THE KEEPERS: A Hogwarts Legacy Story

Chapter 6

***cw: some description of blood, injury, death

Professor Sharp didn't leave his office for breakfast that morning. He stayed at his desk, making annotations on his lesson plans, relishing the quiet of the early morning before his students stormed in for their first Potions class of the term.

Next to him, stacks of handouts stood tall on his desk, waiting to be given out in class. After the Headmaster's ludicrous rant on the OWL results, the professor had ensured there would be no shortage of assignments for the sixth-years in his NEWT-level course.

Sharp smiled to himself. He could almost hear the loud groans of dismay filling his classroom. Contrary to what seemed a popular belief, he cared about his students and their academic success.

Admittedly, he hadn't always been keen on being the Potions Master at Hogwarts. He'd only accepted the position out of necessity after leaving his old job as an Auror. But with enough time passed, he'd learned to find as much fulfillment in teaching young wizarding folks as he had in putting away Dark wizards in Azkaban.

Speaking of time - Sharp glanced up at the clock, then at the fireplace on the other side of the room. He'd opened his floo network that morning, expecting a visit from an old friend. She would be here any minute now, if she was still as punctual as he remembered -

Just then, the flame in the fireplace turned green and erupted to a new height. Sharp reached for his cane and rose from his seat as the flame subsided and revealed a silhouette of a witch.

"Clarissa Gladwell."

"Aesop Sharp," the liaison greeted back, stepping out of the fireplace. She brushed the floo powder off her sleeves and smiled brightly. "Or shall I say, Professor Sharp?"

Sharp shook his head with a wry smile. "You can save the formalities for the Ministry bigwigs." Clarissa chuckled.

Those who closely followed the Ministry affairs knew Clarissa as Madam Liaison, but Sharp knew her as an old colleague. They'd both started working at the Ministry around the same time as Auror trainees, then went on to work together as Aurors.

Clarissa had carried a bit of reputation even back then, coming from a respected family of Aurors who'd served the Ministry for generations. There had been murmurs, a jealous kind, that she'd employed her family connections to bypass her competitions. But she'd quickly proven herself by achieving a solve rate higher than most others' in their cohort.

It had come to Sharp as a surprise, then, that she'd decided to pivot her career and take the liaison position at the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

Sharp gestured his guest to a small table where a floating teapot and modest refreshments awaited them. Clarissa sat down in the armchair facing the table.

"You look well, Aesop. Life at Hogwarts must suit you," she said amiably. Her eyes trailed him as he crossed to the table. "Your injury, still the same?"

She was referring to his limp. It was an old injury from his last assignment as an Auror. He'd been staking out with his partner in the deep neck of the Forbidden Forest when a mob of masked raiders came out of the Disillusionment Charm and ambushed them.

It was a setup - a rat amidst their ranks tipping off their enemies - and by the time Sharp realized, he had taken a Dark curse on his leg, and his partner a Killing Curse directly on the head. Sharp knew, then, that his career as an Auror had come to an end.

The message from the Auror Office was clear. The Head Auror constantly badgered him with the mention of honorable discharge, and kept him at his desk with a mind-numbing amount of paperwork. Sharp briefly considered transferring out to another department, like Clarissa had done, but that required pulling strings, ones that he didn't have a reach for.