Joy of the Giving

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty had thought his midlife crisis to be over at thirty-five, but evidently he had thought wrong. It seemed to him that he had not so much chosen the direction of his life as his many phobias and fears had steered the way for him, and thus the inevitable question had finally crept up on his consciousness: was this really what he wanted to do? He liked to think it was; nothing gave him greater pleasure than imparting his knowledge upon the minds of the young; yet some great chasm within him pressed him to doubt it. This couldn't, surely, be all there was to life. This couldn't be all he was meant to do.

Such a childish fantasy was it to yearn for some greater purpose that Monty blushed suddenly, a heat lingering in his cheeks even after he terminated thoughts of it. Seeing the predicament one much too complicated to solve in an evening, or even a week, Monty took himself outside and ventured down to the gardens, where the late evening and tall shrubs guaranteed him some solitude. But he had apparently not been the first to have this idea: as he turned the corner to a semicircle of benches he found one of them to be already occupied, by Professor Stark. Feeling awfully as if he had just intruded on her privacy, he made to carry on past with a genial smile in her direction. Alas, in his glancing her way he perceived that she was quite upset, and his course was abruptly altered to approach her. "Sloane?" he said warily. "Is something the matter?"

 

[Sloane Halliwell]

There were many things that Sloane was good at, but apparently being a teacher was not one of them. These days she found it hard to ignore what she heard the students saying about certain professors and it made her wonder what they might be saying about her. She couldn't very well punish them for having an opinion, though if they went too far, she certainly stepped in. There wasn't very much, if anything, that she could do, after all, she had no choice but to ignore it, which was becoming harder with each passing day. She loved being a teacher, she loved her job, but some kids could be horrible and she was getting sadder to see it everywhere. So when she walked into the Hogwarts Gardens and took a seat, she couldn't really stop the tears that had begun to form. She knew she wanted to stay in this job, but sometimes there were things that just got her down. The students bullying each other was awful and she'd seen so much of it, she was beginning to wonder if any of them got along at all.

The sound of her name caused her to look up and she noted that she was now sharing the Garden with Professor Pendleton. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes as he approached her. "Oh, Professor Pendleton, hi." She said, not really knowing what she was going to say now. He didn't look completely put together himself and the staff had heard about what had occurred between him and that young Ravenclaw. Sloane was just glad she didn't have to deal with a student like that, though her own students indeed had their problems. "What brings you out here then?"
​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Many things had brought Monty to the gardens that evening: a craving for fresh air, a lack of anywhere else private to think but his office, the need to assure himself he would not encounter any students. But these reasons, for a man in his forties, quite bordered on pitiful. He wasn't afraid to see Rama again - his failure to act the last time had been the result of nothing more than a panic attack. What he feared the most was the way he would now be perceived, both by his colleagues and the remaining pupils. They didn't know what he'd experienced in the courtyard, and since he was too humiliated by his anxiety to tell them, they would likely go on believing he was merely incompetent for so long as they knew him. He didn't even know which was worse, any more.

"I'm... hiding," he decided to confess, with a cheerful smile. Then he sat down on the bench beside Sloane and conjured a tissue to offer her. "Here. Unfortunately, it's rather difficult to hide from oneself." The Potions Professor looked out over the green and sighed softly. "I take it you heard about Rama. You and the rest of the school." He laughed sadly. "Look, I... I know how it appears. And I wish I could tell you the truth, because to think of how you must perceive me is... terrifying, quite frankly. But the point is, I'm OK. And at the moment... I don't think you are," he said, his tone tender and gentle. "Is there anything I can do for you, Sloane?"