The Soul of a Teacher

The Soul Of A Teacher

Chapter One:

Transfiguration

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His eyes, his hands

All over, all over my body

His lips, his breath

Connecting with mine

His skin, my skin

Rubbing with each other

I tried in vain

To push him away

But he was too strong

To strong for me to fight him

I was too weak

Too weak to defend myself

And as he entered me

I cried and screamed

And felt the pain of his abuse

What did I do to deserve this?

I asked myself as I

Clawed my way out of this nightmare

That fate has unfairly

Brought upon me

And I knew at that moment

That my life would never be the same again

Never going to forget the hell

I've been through

And now, years from all of those

I stand proud

Chin up in the air

But the memory still remains

Forever buried in my memory

Forever buried in my heart

Forever buried in my soul...

--Althea

~ ~ ~

She was only fourteen when it happened. She did not know. She was an innocent. But innocence was one of the things that malice loved to corrupt. And, her life was changed forever.

~ ~ ~

Minerva McGonagall brought down the book that she was holding and took a deep, calming breath. Memories of pain, of misery and suffering that were buried deep in her thoughts. She never to be awaken them again, never to think of them.

She got up from the big comfy cushion in her vast teacher's dorm and headed to her bedroom to get ready for the day. It was just four o'clock in the morning and she was wide-awake, preparing for the usual busy and chaotic day ahead. She picked up her towel and walked into her private bathroom. She opened the faucet, dipped her hand in, and splashed the ice-cold water on her face. It was a relief to feel that freezing sensation as she felt her body shaking off the waking dream, to finally be rid of the visions in her head.

She would not deny, if anybody would care to ask her, that for the past few months, she had been waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat. Breathing hard and feeling that indescribable dread that seemed to visit her every night. The visions, the dreams that she had been having were too vivid for her to ignore.

Why? Why now? Why after almost five decades of living in peace and trying to forget all of the things that had happened, that this memory finally and unfortunately decided to visit her again. She did not wish to remember anymore; she just wanted to forget the whole thing, let go and bury it in her past, but how can she when the images of that dreadful night seemed to be haunting every minute of her sleep.

A few minutes later, bathed, clothed and ready to go to work, Minerva found herself looking at the full sized mirror in her bedroom and feeling that vague sensation of deja vu. As if she was looking at herself forty years in the past and feeling that cold and horrible feeling that she had been used, that somebody had taken advantage of her individuality, thrown it inside a trashcan and pressed it flat.

Caught in an impenetrable trance, Minerva forced herself to look away and walk towards the door to visit the Teacher's Lounge. There are essays to be checked and news to be read. There was no time for thinking about the past. Especially when she was trying to forget it and bury it somewhere where it can no longer haunt her.

Professor McGonagall dragged her heavy feet down the marble staircase to the Teacher's Lounge and pushed the door open with little effort and strode in. Professor Trelawny and Professor Sprout were already in there, both clutching identical steaming coffee cups in their hands.

"Good Morning Sybil, Good Morning Sylvia!" Minerva greeted, taking her wand and Charming herself with a cup of fresh hot coffee. They too, greeted her in return.

She gladly sat beside Sybil and sipped her steaming coffee.

"Have you heard the news today, Minerva?" Sylvia asked her as she settled down.

"Why, what's new?" Minerva replied.

"Oh, the usual," Sylvia said. "Blood and mayhem everywhere! The Great War is starting you know?"

"Ah, yes," Sybil airily and mystically said, taking a sip of her coffee. "The Great War, the final battle between good and evil...Reminds me of a certain boy who will be very affected by the upcoming war. A certain spectacled and green-eyed boy...Yes! He will play a very big role in the final battle, but I could not assure you that it will end the way we want it to."

"Oh, please, Sybil!" Sylvia begged, setting her coffee cup down on the table in front of them. "Don't start with that again!"

"But the stars! The stars-"

"Oh, I don't give a rat's tail about the stars!" Minerva exclaimed. "If Potter is destined to die, then he'll die. But don't tell me that it was already predicted because I believe that it is not. His actions will decide what will happen to him in the future and at the end of the war. That is if the war will ever end."

"I agree with you, Minerva!" Sylvia said, taking the cup again and finishing her coffee with one gulp.

"All of you are the same!" Sybil exclaimed. "You all ignore the valuable signs of the stars and my visions-"

There was an audibly heard cough of disagreement coming from Sylvia's way as Sybil said that.

"But someday, when all of my predictions come true, you will all come running to me, and I will have the last laugh telling you all that I told you so." Sybil finished.

"I am sure we will, Trelawny," Minerva said. "I'm sure we will."

After a few seconds of beautiful silence, Sylvia spoke up about having to go to the Great Hall already for their breakfast.

The Great Hall was packed with students dressed in their usual black ensemble, eating and chatting with each other as if nothing was wrong, nothing was out of place. Luscious and brightly colored foods and cool drinks fill the enormous and long tables of the Great Hall and the students seated according to their appropriate house. Professor McGonagall watched as they went on their way happily and without a trace or worry.

She scanned the crowd, slowly pushing her food around her plate and taking a sip of her Pumpkin Juice.

Just what exactly is with Hogwarts and Pumpkin Juice? Don't the students even get sick of the orange liquid that seems to fill their cups every day?

She pushed the non-sense thought away as she noticed Ms. Laura Madley's unusual behavior.

Laura was currently at her fourth year of studying at Hogwarts and was sitting at the Hufflepuff table, picking her food, unmindful of the chatting and joyous schoolmates surrounding her. Minerva could tell that she was too preoccupied to think about and notice anything else. Laura sat there looking sulkily at her food, her face clouded with confusion and despair.

Minerva wondered what had caused this beautiful woman's usual joyous spirit to falter that morning. Day in and day out, Laura was always this enjoyable and jolly person that all of the Hufflepuff know her as. For three years in a row, since her first year at Hogwarts, several friends had always surrounded her, and Minerva could tell that Laura was one of the popular people at her year, especially at her own house, Hufflepuff. What was the reason of this sudden transformation? A broken relationship with a boy, perhaps? But she seemed to be too scared of men to even have a bond with one of them. Maybe, a failed exam with Professor Snape. Oh, that man was merciless! But no, that was just silly. It seemed too petty to be the reason for all this.

Probably, out of providence, Laura unconsciously raised her eyes, up at the High Table where all the teachers and staff sat, and without thinking, met McGonagall's eyes. And with that, Minerva finally saw... She saw what she had been dreading to see since he noticed the girl's peculiar behavior. The evidence that she had been looking for was staring at her back, and all the proof that she needed was portrayed clearly in the girl's sorrowful eyes.

And out of the blue, Minerva felt as if she was going to be sick as the truth dawned on her. At that moment, she knew what Laura's dilemma was. She did not know how but the idea just popped into her brain, and she was sure. She knew it since she experienced and felt the exact same thing decades ago. Pain and pity filled her heart as she thought and wondered what had happened to this girl who was once full of spirit and innocent beauty.

One of the Hufflepuff boys walked behind Laura's seat and Minerva watched as she recoiled in terror from the harmless boy. That incident just gave the Transfiguration teacher concrete evidence.

She had once been like Laura, and the fear of men did not leave her until after several months and a few years of recuperating after that unfortunate night. The paranoia was gone, yes, that was true, but Minerva could confess that the mistrust and suspicion was still there, present in her mentality, present in her heart.

The case of Laura Madley brought a great deal of pain and confusion in Minerva McGonagall's mind. It also brought anger and fury to Minerva's spirit. Who could do something like that to an innocent little girl? What had she done to deserve that kind of treatment? To deserve that kind of disrespect to her individuality and her existence? Up until now, she could still not believe nor understand what had happened to her, and thousands of other women and girls out there, and why? Why?

They certainly did not deserve that kind of inhumane handling. Nobody did. But yet, it happened and she could only wonder why it happened, why her, and what would happen to her life now, now that she's... impure.

Breakfast ended without Minerva even realizing it, and the next thing she knew, there were only fifteen students in the gigantic Great Hall, compared to the hundreds that were in here just a few minutes ago. Her gaze automatically went to the seat that Laura had been occupying just seconds ago and saw that she too left. Her food hadn't been touched, and Minerva could still see the bread and eggs the house elves had served for breakfast.

She then hurried on to her class, which was coincidentally with the fourth year Hufflepuffs, moving as quickly as she could without looking like she was in a great hurry. One thing she had learned was that a running teacher who appeared to be late for her class was not a good example for the students that she would have to punish for the exact same thing. Better be as cool and composed as possible. She still had her dignity.

She arrived at her class to see the Hufflepuffs accounted for. None of them appeared to be late. Well, at least no student today would feel her stern wrath of giving detentions to pupils who were behind their schedules.

She started her complicated lesson about transforming a ferret into a beaver, and the Hufflepuffs caught right on. Seems pretty easy, they all thought, but that's before they did the hands on, which resulted into a throng of different species of feathered objects that didn't look like a beaver at all.

Laura sat there, whispering rather than saying the magic words and pointing her wand at the little ferret. She was quite the quiet one in the lot, and she knew that since her housemates were now screaming and running around the classroom, away from the horribly changed ferrets. She could sit there, lost in her own world, just dodging the flying half beaver, half ferret species. What she didn't know was that Professor McGonagall had been observing her since the class began. She did not know that she had reawakened turmoil of feelings and memories from the old lady. She did not know that she too had suffered the same unspeakable fate decades and decades ago.

The class finally ended with mutated species of ferrets running wildly everywhere and just a few beavers to put into Professor McGonagall's cage. She did not worry, however, about her student's catching up. They will learn the spell correctly with just a few days of practicing. It was a complicated spell.

A few seconds after the bell rang, the classroom was unsurprisingly free from students and just full of different-colored feathers here and there. Minerva raised her hand and in one swing of her wand, and with a single word from her pale lips, the room underwent a miraculous transformation. From a four-cornered room filled with feathers and streaking half ferrets, the area suddenly became one of the cleanest and most orderly vicinities in Hogwarts with all of the feathers and half-changed ferrets gone, and the chairs and tables in their proper position. It was then that she realized that she was not alone in the supposed to be deserted classroom.

Minerva saw Ms. Madley still crouched on the floor with her bag and she was struggling with her things while Professor McGonagall straightened up the classroom.

What a perfect opportunity to speak with this girl, Minerva thought, walking down from the platform and approaching the petite little girl.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said automatically as she sensed Professor McGonagall walking her way. "I-I'll be off now."

"I noticed that you've been a bit preoccupied, Ms. Madley," Minerva said, her hands clasped behind her back. "Is there something bothering you?"

"Uh, no," Laura quickly answered, standing up, her backpack hurled at her shoulders, obviously preparing to leave. "I'll promise I'll be a lot attentive in the following discussions, Professor. I'm just a bit absent-minded these days. But I'll be better, promise."

"Will you?" Minerva said, still standing directly in front of Laura and purposely blocking her path. "Are you sure it will go away just after a few days?"

"I'm positive, Professor," Laura replied, a hint of annoyance evident in her voice. "Look, if you're talking about what happened in today's class, I'm not the only one who messed up."

"I'm not talking about today's class, Ms. Madley," Minerva said, still as calm as ever. "I'm talking about some other more serious things here."

"Well, whatever it is, Professor, with all due respect," she said, standing up straighter "I'm sure we could discuss it some other time. I'm going to be late for my next class."

"Who is your next class Ms. Madley?"

"Potions," she answered. "With Professor--"

"Snape," Minerva finished for her. "Yes, I know."

Laura looked at her expectantly.

"I'm sure we can deal with Professor Snape later on," Minerva said. "In the meantime, let's take a seat and talk for a minute."

There was an audible sigh of frustration coming from Ms. Madley's direction, that the elderly teacher heard, as she sat down in one of the chairs, with her Professor in front of her, but Minerva let it slip. She could not blame the girl for being irritated about her meddlesome teacher. This was a serious matter and a matter that should be talked about and brought out in public.

"What is this about, Professor?" Laura inquired, looking at Minerva in the eye for the very first time since the start of the forced conversation.

"It's about..." Minerva started, but could not continue. What was she supposed to say to this girl?

"About what?" she again asked, genuine curiosity present in her eyes.

"Have you ever been..." Minerva again began, but was cut off as a tornado of emotions and memories came crashing through her mind. She closed her eyes as she fought back tears of memory and pain.

"Look, Professor," Laura again said, standing from her seat. "I really have to go. Even if you talk to Professor Snape, he will still cut my head off if I don't pass his written exam that will consist of today's lesson. So please--"

"Why are you so self-protective and distrustful of me?"

"What? I'm just-- "

"What happened, Laura?"

"Nothing! What are you talking about?"

"Don't be scared, tell me..."

"Tell you what? It is none of your business!"

"Who was it, Laura?" Minerva said, as she too rose from the wooden chair that she was sitting on. "Who did this to you?"

"Who did--"

"Who was he?" Minerva, driven by her angry emotions that were currently resurfacing in her brain, bombarded Laura with questions. "When did this happen?"

"Stop this, please!" she started crying. She was terrified, Minerva could tell.

She was probably fighting an inner struggle whether to tell her trusted Professor about everything or not. McGonagall just hoped that she does soon. She could not had stand any of this turmoil longer.

"Where? How?" she continued.

"Please, I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't lie to me, Laura! What happened?"

"I... I just want to forget about everything, okay? I don't want to remember anymore!"

"What did he do?"

"He--"

"Who was he, Laura?!"

"HE WAS MY FATHER!"

"What?" Minerva's shouting suddenly scaled down into an almost silent whisper. She had not been expecting this. How... how could a father...

It was when McGonagall finally got her presence of mind back that she realized Laura had collapsed on the wooden chair and was now crying as if she would never stop. Minerva felt her heart contract as she saw the façade of a normally jolly and innocent girl crumpled into dust, as she cried as if there was no tomorrow. She was tempted to embrace and comfort the poor girl but she could not, for the reason that she did not have the slightest idea how to do so. Instead, she just there, her own tears, brimming at the edge of her eyelashes.

"When did this happen?" Minerva slowly and quietly asked Laura sometime later when her crying turned down a bit.

"This... this summer vacation," she said in an almost inaudible voice.

"What happened?" Minerva asked. She knew that this wa not her business anymore, but she was already involved now, and there would be no turning back.

After a long deep breath, it seemed that Laura was ready to tell everything. Ready to confide everything to her Transfiguration teacher.

"It was a dreary cold evening it was August twenty-first..."

It was a lifeless and cold late afternoon...

"I was at home alone, sitting at my table in my room and looking out the window, waiting for my mother to arrive, when I heard footsteps and voices coming up the stairs..."

She was walking in a dark alley on her way home from an errand when she heard footsteps on the wet pavement and voices coming from behind her...

"I turned around and saw my father. He was staring at me. I didn't know what was wrong, I asked him, but he just kept staring. He looked so angry..."

She turned around and saw somebody coming her way. He was eyeing her with lust filled eyes that made her uneasy and nervous...

"My heart began to pound when he would not take his eyes off me and answer my questions. He approached me. He had an almost evil smirk attached to his face, and then... I knew..."

She turned the other way around and saw another two men, who are also approaching her with the same lust filled eyes and cruel smirks. They were cornering her in the dark wet alley...and then at that moment she knew...

"He roughly grabbed my hands and dragged me to my bed, and shoved me to it. He put himself on top of me and started kissing me... not like a father is supposed to kiss. It was disgusting. He and forced me to stop pushing him back. I tried... I tried to get away from him but he was too strong..."

She tried to run for it but it was too late, the three cornered her, held her arms wide and pinned it into the rough and cutting wall behind her. The other two held her hands so she could not move and the first one started doing things to her. Horrible things. She tried to push him away, but they were too strong...

"My wand... my wand was in my cabinet and there was no way that I could get it. I felt so scared...so weak and helpless and felt the pain of hopefulness maybe my mother would come, maybe he would stop. He ripped my clothes off... and I felt used. He took a rope from beneath my bed and tied my hands to the corners of it. The rope cut the skin of my hands, but even then, I could do nothing but endure the pain..."

They were also smart for their kind. They took her wand from her pocket, snapped it in half and threw it away. She had lost her only hope. They started ripping her clothes off and doing things to her body, touching places that shouldn't be touched. She tried to push away with all her might, but he fight was three to one. There was nothing she could do but endure the pain...

"After he was done with me I wondered why he hadn't just stunned me. It would've made it much easier for him. Why did he have to let me feel everything the sting, the soreness, the pain of what he did..."

They took turns doing her, and when they were finally done, they left her alone, quivering in the coldness of the evening with no clothes on and no energy to run for her life or to even stand up. She suddenly heard some talk about the perfection of having live tasty meat to play with when they were already walking away. Now she felt as used as ever...

"After that, he told me not to tell anybody about what happened," Laura continued. "I was in so much pain and so depressed that I could not even speak. He threatened me that he would kill my mother if I did so much as mention any part or say anything that to her. And I love my mom, I would do anything for her... so I kept quiet."

There was a brief pause; neither of them could speak in the shared despair and misery of the situation. The once brightly lit walls of the classroom now seemed so gray and ancient. Minerva too, was attacked by the memories of that night, and it seemed so overwhelming that she could hardly speak and had to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes.

"We're going to do something about this, Laura," Minerva said, standing up and heading to her desk at the front of the classroom.

"But my father," Laura started to say when Professor McGonagall cut her off.

"Your father must pay for what he did." Minerva said, fierce determination evident in her voice. "He must and will pay. Trust me on that."

Laura surprisingly remained silent. That was the end of their discussion as Minerva and Laura silently walked out of the desolate room, their minds still clouded with unwanted thoughts and a ferocious willpower to do what was right and to have justice.

Minerva McGonagall never had the justice that she so truly deserved for what had happened to her. In fact, nobody ever knew, with the exclusion of her mother who had already passed away. She told her at her last remaining breath and Minerva never knew what her mother's reaction would have been. She never had any justice to the horrid things that took place, but she wouldn't let that happen to young Ms. Madley. She was just at the brink of her life, and Minerva vowed at that very moment, at her mother's grave, that Laura Madley was going to have justice. No matter what it takes she was going to have justice and have some of her integrity and self-respect back. Minerva was going to make sure of that.