Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Genres:
General Angst
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 12/13/2002
Updated: 12/13/2002
Words: 676
Chapters: 1
Hits: 378

Observer

Eilan

Story Summary:
"Some may judge me to be dumb. Some may say that Herbology doesn't prepare them for what they will face on the battlefield. I agree. But it's not only Herbology I teach them. It's patience and an eye for details; trust in their abilities and love for their chosen professions. Not something that will help them during the fighting. Because that's what I'm best at, working behind the scenes, preparing the warriors for the time after the war." Professor Sprout muses about her place in the world.

Posted:
12/13/2002
Hits:
378
Author's Note:
There is a real lack of fanfics featuring Professor Sprout out there, so I decided to at least write one myself. Thanks to everyone who read one of my other fics until now and was weird enough to like them. You keep me writing.

Observer
by Eilan

Innocent as a dove you will harm no one,
but wise as a serpent no one will harm you.
~Haug

I am an observer, silently fading into the background.

This is a simple truth and nothing I would ever complain about.

They say it's the silent ones that understand more than the loud ones, those who just claim to understand. And they are right.

I observe, keep quiet, and think. Think about everything that happens.

Some may judge me to be dumb. All I can do is smile and think about how wrong they are. I see what happens. I see how the Slytherins are slowly getting restless, how the Ravenclaws grow more nervous with every passing day, and how the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs are preparing for what they will have to do.

The war is nearing. That's also a simple truth. Everyone is preparing for it, like they did twenty years ago. And thirty years before that.

History repeating itself. Nothing is new to those who can remember.

This time I will be fading into the background again, working behind the scenes, preparing the warriors.

Some may say that Herbology doesn't prepare them for what they will face on the battlefield.

I agree.

But it's not only Herbology I teach them. It's patience and an eye for details; trust in their abilities and love for their chosen professions. Not something that will help them during the fighting, but in the time that will come afterwards.

Because that is what all these wars have taught me. The battle is fairly simple. There is a difference between black and white, between good and evil, that even the youngest can grasp; for, unlike Muggle wars, Wizard wars follow these simple rules most of the time.

It's what comes afterwards that worries me and should worry them.

These children have grown up surrounded by the foreshadowing of the upcoming war. And one day, be it sooner or later, it will end, as it always has. Then they won't know what to do. They will look for the next challenge, the next enemy, and if they are lucky there will be none. For a time.

I saw it happen after the last war. After the euphemistic feeling of victory had passed, everyday life took over again. And most didn't know what everyday life meant.

The whole wizarding community almost collapsed.

We can't afford for it to happen again. And I'm willing to do my best to keep it from happening.

Through observing and subtle interference. Because that's what I'm best at. Through helping all the Longbottoms and Bones struggling to find a niche in this world where they are not worthless, where they can find their self-confidence.

I know what they say behind my back when they think I'm not listening. Severus and Minerva and most of the Slytherins. Salvia Sprout, saviour of all the handicapped, mentor to all the half-Squibs.

I don't care about them. I don't care about Severus, who has to sneak out of Hogwarts about once a month and returns bruised and in pain, because he let himself be drawn to the darkness when he was young. I don't care about Minerva, who hides fears about her heritage behind a mask that she has worn for as long as I have known her. I don't care about the Malfoys of this world who won't admit that they didn't choose the right but the easy path. The path by which they leave the thinking to other people. They path by which they can be proud of something they didnĀ“t accomplish -- their heritage - rather than something they did with what was given to them.

The prettiest flowers may be the best to look at, but they are the first to die; the ones that survive despite their circumstances look even prettier to the schooled eye.

And I have a schooled eye.

Because I observe and I will continue to do so for as long as I must.

Until I can rest in peace.