The Eyes of Graphorns (Professor Sharp x mc)

A Reunion

- Seven years later -

Sharp arrived just in time for the induction ceremony for the new first-year students, quickly taking his seat at the long teacher's table in the grand hall. His injury had been particularly troublesome today, almost causing him to be late. Normally, he wouldn't have cared whether he was there or not, but he lacked the patience to deal with the questions from the headmaster that would come with his absence. So, he reluctantly dragged himself up to the great hall. He lowered his gaze to avoid the sympathetic faces of his colleagues.

Black began his introductory speech, welcoming the new first-year students and commencing the house distribution ceremony: "The Sorting Hat will now determine which of the four houses you belong to..."

Perhaps there was a promising student among the newcomers this year. In the past few years, there had been students who achieved good grades and were clever, but none of them had been truly exceptional. Most of them were only skilled in the safety of the classroom, but without their books or even for a duel, they seemed ill-suited.

"...I must inform you before the start of the school year that..."

Sharp's thoughts drifted out of the grand hall into the past. It had been a long time since someone had truly impressed him. In recent years, he had found himself dwelling on memories of a particular student. Over time, he realized that he had admired her, even though he hadn't been aware of it when she was still at Hogwarts.

"... furthermore, there are the following changes to the faculty..."

She had said she wanted to go traveling and then simply disappeared. Secretly, he had hoped to hear from her again, but what reason would she have had to contact him? Sometimes he had even tried to find out if his colleagues knew anything about her whereabouts, but no one had heard from her. Of course, he could have conducted further investigations by using old contacts, but what reason would he have had to do so other than a vague sense of nostalgia?

"... for health reasons, Professor Hecat has decided to teach the subject of Magical Theory until further notice..."

Why was he still bothering his head about her whereabouts? Perhaps it was because they had shared the same feeling of loss for a short time. Perhaps the pain they shared had felt like some kind of connection?

"... as her successor in the Defense Against the Dark Arts subject, please welcome Professor Elaine Hopkins, who has previously served as an Auror..."

Sharp abruptly snapped out of his thoughts and almost said something out of surprise. Instead, for the first time that evening, he looked around the faculty, and there she sat, diagonally across from him at one of the semicircular arranged teacher's tables. Elaine Hopkins. She stood up briefly to introduce herself to the student body. Dinah Hecat sat beside her, smiling knowingly at him; she had surely noticed his excitement. Probably she hadn't told him about her successor on purpose, just to see how he would react that evening. Her cunningness could drive him to madness, but he had to admit one thing: he had the impression that she always knew him a little better than he knew himself.

As the great hall gradually emptied after the feast, Sharp wanted to seize the opportunity and speak with Elaine. Garlick and Ronen stood with her to greet her. When his colleagues finally left her alone, he slowly approached her.

Elaine had already noticed him when he entered the great hall. Although she had tried to avoid his gaze, her attention had repeatedly slipped back to the tall, broody man. Sharp approached his former student and shuddered. If he hadn't known it was her, he wouldn't have recognized her at first. For reasons Sharp couldn't explain, Elaine didn't look directly at him. He examined her. She was thinner than he remembered, and deep scars ran from her forehead diagonally across her face to her ear. Her hair was shorter, and there were already some grey strands. She wore fingerless gloves, a long, dark coat, and underneath, a set of black protective clothing with silver buckles, as used in handling magical creatures. What troubled him the most were her eyes: they had lost their strength and looked tired. He knew that look, the despair in it.