Becoming weak

[Meera Gupta]

It was just another Sunday for the whole school. A day when there was no classes and when everyone enjoyed the weather. For Meera and all other Hindus in the world it was not just another Sunday but a big happy occasion called Dashera which came on the tenth day of Navratri festival. Hindus danced and prayed for all the evil to be conquered by the Goddess and Dashera marked the day when the Goddess conquered evil and won. Every year Meera celebrated this happy day with her family as the burnt down the statue of the evil Ravaan but today she was all alone in a foreign land.Meera had stopped keeping track of days since she had been sorted. Today as she looked into the calender she realized a whole month had passed. She had not been able to make any friends or take any interest in lessons. Her father had not told her why she was being transferred to another school so far away from France. Meera knew her father was afraid and all this was for her own safety but she hated it. Her guardian and mentor, Arjun had come to New Zealand to take care of her but she could not see him until holidays. To top it all her father had specifically asked her to not contact them for two whole years for safety reasons. Meera could not even call or write a letter. It was worse than torture. She had no idea how she was suppose to survive.

She had become like a living robot. She attended the classes she remembered. Most of the things she forgot like meals. And most of the times when she did remember that it was lunch or dinner time she avoided the Great Hall and skipped meals all together. She did not like the general crowd and cheery people. She was so jealous of them. Today when she was supposed to celebrate she made an attempt at dressing up in Indian attire. Usually Meera was always dressed up in the best way possible wearing the latest trends and designer clothing. Today she put on a simple simple silk and put the red tilak on her forehead and white dots over her eyebrow. It was the way Indian women dressed for the worship ceremony. As Meera was all by herself she decided to select a room where no one would find her. She had heard about the dungeons in the castle. She did not understand why they were needed in the first place. Why were there moving staircases? And forests which were dangerous? A cold dark place seemed right and she hoped that no one would find her there. She did not feel like putting on any jewellery or make up.

Meera begun her journey to the dungeons using a secret passage way she had recently discovered. She was holding a silver plate in one hand which had some flowers, sweets and a small oil candle which was yet to be lit. In the other hand she held the framed photograph of her Goddess which she was about to worship. Although she had been skipping meals and starving herself in general, today she was fasting for religious reasons. It was almost six in the evening and after the prayer she was suppose to break her fast and eat the sweet. She did not feel like eating sweets so she had decided to just drink some water instead. As she walked in the dungeons, in her silk saree, both her hands full she could feel her knees wobble as if someone had done a jinx on her. She looked around but it was pitch black and she could not see or hear anyone. She walked some more and found an empty room. It had a simple table on which Meera placed the photograph. Using her wand she lit the oil candle in the plate and begun circling the plate in front of the photograph as she prayed. Just as she was done with the ceremony she heard footsteps outside. The silver plate dropped from her hands and landed with a big clash on the ground. The flame from the candle just missed her saree by a centimeter before it blew out. Meera watched the items on the floor. Hot tears emerged from her eyes. The way the plate fell and holy things were scattered on the ground was a bad omen. She wondered how much more worse her life could get? The water she was going to drink had splashed on her saree.

Her knees felt weaker than ever and she fell to her knees with her face in her hands as she cried. A few seconds later she realized that someone might be watching or approaching her. Using her wand she quickly made all the items on the ground take their place in the dish. Getting slowly to her feet she realized how weak she had become. If she was to be attacked right now she was sure she would not be able to fight back. Making her way to the class door, Meera looked outside to see who had disturbed her prayers. She could not see anyone but the wall and the corner ahead. Taking slow steps Meera walked a little further to see who else was in the dungeons. It was so dark and Meera was literally dragging her feet forward that she ended up tripping in her own saree and falling face first on the ground. Her head hit the cement floor and she felt the pain on her head before she heard the sound that her landing had just created.

 

[Professor Misha Haden]

With the middle of term coming to a close, and leaving little open for the rest, the young professor had found himself seeking the company of things other than the four walls of his office. He longed for real friends, and things like that, though he'd scarcely find friends between the cold brown walls of the school. He knew some of the other professors, but Misha was different from most of them. He was not incredibly excitable, he was not particularly unkind or cold. He was just him. He was Misha, texas born, Durmstrang educated. With much in the way of a future though not always sure of himself. He knew one thing, and that being at hogwarts was the best thing ever. He had never thought of himself as the sort of person who had the mentality to be a professor. He had believed that he had too little patience and too much rage. But the first time he had ever stood in front of a class, not necessarily to teach, he had fallen in love with it. Like a person with the first crush, a feeling that filled them, so much they lost track of most other things and that one person became their soul goal even if that person, the crush, was completely out of reach. Which he had never known the feeling towards a member of the opposite or same sex but towards a profession he had never believed would actually be for him. With that said, he taught the elder years Charms, which was not a difficult subject to teach. It was his best subject, he was comfortable teaching that as if it were something he'd always done. The lessons would always be the same year to year, but he never lost interest in the fact that people liked learning them. Watching students fail and succeed seemingly at random. Some people were cut out for Charms, others were not. He found the subject fascinating, and often toyed with the idea of persuing a line of work where he could create his own charms. But, for now, he was very much satisfied with just teaching. He was young and had lots of time to offer the world his many talents. He didn't need to do everything in the one. That was silly. That's for sure. It was day after his one day of classes during the term, it was an advantage teaching the three elder years. He did much less work than his counter part who taught all of the younger years. Which suited the young professor fine. Though it was always the day after when faced with more days of no work, than days of work, that he grew just that little bit annoyed at this first job. No more annoyed than he would be if there ended up being coffee in his daily tea. So not overall p!ssed, but not exactly happy.

Without much reasoning, the professor had taken a walk. Heading in and around the school he taught. Smirking as students looked away from him, and shrunk into corners, though this happened rarely as it was fairly early in the morning. Misha was pretty laid back. He'd be stern if need be, but the students of Hogwarts were pretty well behaved, he didn't have many issues on that front. At least he didn't have any right now. Which was kind of the point. The good thing about it. He was heading out of the kitchens, a place he rarely entered, having a small amount of things within his room which made it easy for him to survive without leaving all too often. But he'd had a small craving during his walk. For a bit of chocolate. Misha was well built, he did lots of sports, and because of that fact he was well built. He was dressed pretty simply, a pair of dark jeans and a slightly lose fitting v-neck t-shirt. Which gave him a casual but still fairly teacher-y appearance. Getting the chocolate had been simple. The elves more than happy to help the professor out. Giving him more than enough of what he wanted. Which he carried in his hand as he walked away from the kitchens. He felt a little odd doing so, realising he look a little more than greedy, but not entirely caring. He was a professor, and students couldn't say sh1t about it. At the very least not to his face. He had his wand light guiding him, dancing in a little ball of light in front of him as he walked. It appeared that for the most part within the dungeons, light, or fire was not often used. He was sure he should bring that up with either the headmistress or deputy, or even the ministry, but that was a thought for a later date. Because since he was the charms professor and his classroom was a few floors above he cared too little to want to bother. As he walked, he noticed a girl walking slowly in front. At first it appeared as though she was maybe drunk as she dragged her feet while walking, but then it occurred to him that it might be something else entirely. Before he could even register it, the girl tripped and fell to the floor. A small but sharp noise echoed against the dark walls. He rushed over to her, he was a professor, he should be able to deal with this. But he was panicked. He knelt down next to her, and felt his hands hover over her as he struggled to remember what to do. Then he recognized who it was. A girl, a sixth year girl who was in his class. She was bright that was for sure, and he wasn't blind to the recent article about her in that odd, Rumor Has It magazine thing. He touch her shoulder lightly, "Ms Gupta?" He called to her, giving her shoulder a slight shake. Wondering what else he could do. What he did do was make sure that she was still breathing, that her heart was still beating, after those few seconds were gone, he tried to rouse her again, "Ms Gupta? Are you alright?"
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Sorry this took so long!

 

[Meera Gupta]

Meera felt so sad and weak inside as she lay on the ground in the dungeon. It was as if a dementor had passed and taken away all her happiness but it was not that. This was her doing. She knew she was wrong to some degree. Her parents had only sent her away for her own safety and skipping meals wasn't going to get her anywhere. In her unconscious state she felt like someone was there with her. Something told her that the person did not want to do her any harm as they were calling her name. Meera did not want to wake up and face the world again. People had started recognizing her in the castle because of the stupid gossip magazine. Meera had risked the secret that she had been protecting all her life and now it was out. Many people had taken interest in this news and though she had not answered to anyone on their questions, she knew people were soon going to be after it and then the real media would get involved. It was the worse case scenario that was soon going to unfold. She recalled the powering words of her mentor who had told her to hide her emotions and not write journals. Only if she had listened. The pain in her head continued and that was what made her feel conscious again. She heard her well wisher ask her something but she couldn't quite understand what she was being asked.

As Meera opened her eyes and found herself facing the ceiling of the dusty and dim dungeons she recalled all that had just happened until she tripped on her saree. Her hand automatically went to her head where she had hurt herself. Then bringing her fingers before her eyes she felt few drops of blood on her head. The realization of being watched was still with her. Then a familiar face zoomed into her vision. Despite being hurt it did not take the Hufflepuff more than a second to recognize her charms professor. It was after all her favorite class so far and she enjoyed the way Professor Misha handled the classes and the students. Meera hardly thought about having a carrier in the magical world and seeing a Professor so young and intelligent made her wonder how he managed it all. Ofcourse she was never going to find out the mysteries behind the making of a Professor but she had to find out if he was the only one around or there was someone else here. She did not want to see another article on herself telling the school that she was weak and unstable. "Professor?" she said weakly as she tried to sit up. Rubbing her head she took a look around to see if anyone else was there. She couldn't be sure and she wasn't feeling strong enough to do a Homenum Revelio charm and find out. She hoped if there was anyone they would be scared of Professor Misha and scatter away. Not that he was scary in any way but still. "I tripped" she explained the Professor hoping he would not ask her any further questions. She knew he wasn't going to tell anyone about her being weak but she just didn't want to bother him with her worries. "Is it bad?" she asked Professor Misha pointing to her forehead which was still hurting.She hoped it was just a small scratch. She did not want to visit the hospital wing and make a big fuss. If she just rested for a day she would be okay.

 

[Professor Misha Haden]

It had never occurred to the young Professor that he would do anything other than just teach while at school, he cared for his students as any person might but outside of his classroom he hadn't ever really cared for them. it had never came up. He was a professor they were students he had no intention of ever having relationships of any sort outside of classes. But, that being said, he always held true that if ever his students wanted to speak with him, all they needed to do was go to his door, and he would more than happy to help. However, in the last year and a half he had not had so much as a whisper at his door. All the better really, if it was something other than a question about charms he would be a little lost. The young professor was by no means talented in personal matters, for insistance his own personal life was a sort of shambles. He was sure that this would the case for most things, so he always had a small hope that he would never have to deal with matters of such a nature. However the small streak had been broken when he had stumbled upon one of his students stumbling and falling in the dark dungeons so early in the morning. He had never been sure of himself in anything, and now was really no different. He was hopeful that it mostly nothing. That she would all right. He really didn't want to have to spend his entire day dealing with that. He cared for his students. But, if he had to worry about them too much he wasn't sure it would be good for him. He wasn't the best with those things in the slightest.

The girl looked at him, and he flashed a small smile to her through instinct. Thinking that doing anything other would be silly. She said his title, and then began to sit up. He put a hand on her shoulder to support her, but shook his head. "Slowly now," He said to her. Giving her another small smile. The from within his pocket, he removed the chocolate that he had been getting for himself. He opened it, and broke off a bit for her. "It'll make you feel a little better. Unless you're allergic, in which case I'll happily keep it" He nodded as she told him what had happened, though as he looked at her, he noticed that she looked fairly tired, weary even. Was that part of it as well. He then looked to her head, and noticed there was a small bump but that it would go away after a few hours. "It's alright, a small bump. That's all, I think" He looked back to her and worried that if he left her that she would then end up getting hurt again. He didn't want to leave, he was almost tempted to suggest the Hospital wing. Since while he could see a small bump he was no healer, or nurse. "It looks alright to me, but, I teach charms, so, I could be very wrong." He gave her a small shrug, "In any case, how about I accompany you back to Hufflepuff? To be sure you're okay, my office isn't too far away from Hufflepuff Common room." He gave her a second small smile, staying beside her waiting for her to get ready to leave. he wouldn't be of much use leading her away if she wasn't ready and while he was capable of lifting her, that might look a little bit odd.
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Sorry about how horrible this is.