Anna Black, The Girl Who Lived (Book 6)

18: Godmother

~ Sorry, this chapter is a bit longer than intended! Happy reading <3 ~

Kate Mavis' heart flooded with fear, blood running cold in her veins. It was only the next day, but she had already vowed to better herself and her class. History was so important in these dark times, and she needed to stress that.

In short, she needed to stop being a bitch.

So she decided her lesson plan for the day was going to be different. Instead of lecturing pointless stories of goblin raidings and book burnings, she was going to let her students decide.

As the teens walked in, dressed in robes of either blue or red, she eyed them carefully. It was now a matter of who she was going to pick on. Definitely Harry and Anna, Caspar, Luna...and definitely NOT Hermione.

She always hated know-it-alls. It reminded her of her own school years, where she was so eager to show her intelligence and to impress others. Her need for admiration from higher sources is what led to her engagement with George, the man who betrayed her and her friends.

The bell chimed and everyone was seated on time- no one dared to cross the woman whose sass almost gave Snape's a run for its money.

"Good afternoon class," she started, rising from her seat. "I'm going to be blunt. I know that many of you think these lessons are a waste of time. And, if I must admit, they are...well, at least the way I've been teaching within them. In times of war like these, with Voldemort back, we really need to ask ourselves what history do we need to know? How will it help us?"

The class sat silent, except for Hermione who had her hand up. Mavis ignored her, her eyes flitting to everyone else. "Anyone?"

"Well," started Hermione, much to the woman's disdain, "we need to know true, raw history. We need to know what causes the evil, manifests it, and how to make it stop."

"To make it never happen again," finished Harry coldly, sitting beside her. Everyone looked at him expectantly, knowing that if anyone knew evil, it would be him and Anna; who was yet to show any emotion at the turn of tables.

But, before he could continue, Luna did.

"People have problems believing the truth because it's so painful, but we need to make them not only believe it, but feel it."

"A-and we need to show that evil hurts everyone in some way," added Neville shyly, but with a indication of underlying determination in his tone. "We need to know how to help each other too, even with the small things, like making sure they're okay."

"We need to be brave," said Ron, his face bright red as everyone's gaze shifted to him. "I-it's bloody difficult sometimes, but it's how we win."

Almost every one of the other Gryffindors and Ravenclaws chimed in, causing a rumble determination to spread through the room, to Mavis' surprise.The women suddenly had to hold back a smile that was threatening to break the surface.

But Anna stayed silent, her eyes glued to the desk. She felt anger; these people didn't know true evil. They didn't know the heavy weight it constantly held, they didn't know what it was like to literally have it run through your veins. To cause severe, awful feelings, to make you feel desolate. To cause a constant battle.

Caspar sat beside her, studying her expression. He didn't quite understand her pain, but he knew what it was like to have evil in your life, even if it was only a touch of it. He intertwined his fingers with hers, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Well, now that you are all engaged, I believe it's time to give you each a separate, elongated opportunity," said Professor Mavis, the room staring at her in an antsy silence.

"You will each write an essay. I will not put a specific minimum on it, but I will grade harshly. You must write about your interpretation of history and how it is important. Feel free to include any personal experiences, anything that connects you to the prompt. It should be easy, considering the fact that we just spoke about it."

A familiar hand shot up in the air, followed by a question. "Professor, must we cite our sources?"

"Granger, I don't want a research paper. Stop being so rigid and try to feel for once," said the woman, her usual steely sass coming back full force.