??????? ????? | h. potter

Chapter Seventeen: It Tasted Like Salt

As Potions was ending, I packed my things in my bag, heart hammering in my chest. I'll admit, I was scared. This is the first time I'll be alone with my father and I have no idea what it will be like. Is he going to be bitter and angry towards me? Is he going to ignore me? Is it going to be extremely awkward? Or is he going to apologise and show 'fatherly love' towards me?

The last one made me snort. That would never happen.

A loud thud pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked up to see Hermione crouching down on the floor, picking up her books.

I crouched down beside her and helped her pack her books away, when one in particular caught my eye. Numerology and Gramtica. This was her Arithmancy book.

Arithmancy...Arithman -- she needs a distraction!

That smarticle did this on purpose!

I caught Hermione's eye and nodded at her slightly, the gears in my head turning, trying to think of a distraction long enough so she can escape. Suddenly, the idea came to me. I leaped out of my position and strode up to Seamus who was muttering to Dean about inequity and child abuse.

"Seamus," I said, catching his attention.

"Oh, hey, Vi..."

"I need your help." My lips twisted into an evil grin. This is going to be fun.

Three, two, one...

BOOM!

The loud sound resounded throughout the dungeons, creating a mini earthquake as a thick cloud of smoke billowed above our heads. Everyone began coughing and spluttering, making a hasty escape from the Potions' classroom.

"FINNIGAN!" I heard my dad bellow over the loud voices. "YOU INSOLENT FOOL!"

But Seamus was already out the door, face black with soot, Dean in tow. "Thanks, Seamus!" I called, though it was probably unintelligible since I was coughing a lot, too.

Through the thick clouds of the quickly disappearing smoke, I saw Hermione use the Time Turner to travel back an hour to Arithmancy.

Another mission accomplished.

When all the smoke was cleared my dad kicked everyone out, angrily.

"Good luck," said Ron, clapping my shoulder. "You'll need it."

Harry rolled his green eyes. "We'll wait outside for--"

"--No, don't wait for me. I'd probably take really long." I interrupted.

"But--"

"Besides, don't you need to do your essay?"

Harry sighed, defeated, and walked off without a second glance. Ron followed him, shrugging with a weird look on his face.

That left just me.

I turned around very slowly, clutching the straps of my bag. "So..." I trailed off awkwardly.

"Sit down." He snapped, sitting down at his own desk and rubbing his eyes tiredly. I did as told. Dramatically, of course. I scraped the chair backwards, so it made a screeching sound (I hate this sound!) and plonked down on to it, resting my face in my hands lazily.

"Where is Ms. Granger?" he snapped.

Oh yeah. She missed detention, the lucky witch. I have to remind her to thank me.

I shrugged.

He snorted. "Funny, I give her a detention and she misses it. Can't her know-it-all brain remember something important for once?" He continued, sneering. "Of course, hanging around with Potter and Weasley probably had something to do with it. One can't stay intelligent with them two around."

"She had something important to do," I say through gritted teeth.

"I thought you didn't know. Or were you lying?" he asked smugly. I clenched my fist, nails digging into my palm. He tricked me! He took my silence as an unsaid answer. "You shouldn't lie, especially to a Professor who's overseeing your detention."

I snapped. I couldn't help it. How could he be such a hypocrite?!

"So you're just going to ignore the elephant in the room here?" I stood up angrily, eyes blazing. "Hate to break it to you, Professor, but we have more than a student-teacher relationship -- we have a blood one. I'm not asking for you to give me special treatment, but for God's sake stop trying to write off my existence as...as insignificant!" My arms swung wildly, and I was positive that I looked half-mad right now but I was just so angry. "Not once have you even directly referred to me in this detention, nor sought me out before school started. Does it seriously mean nothing to you?! How can you expect me to treat you with the basic respect of a teacher if no one was there to raise me -- if you weren't there to raise me? You barely deserve the title of a Professor, let alone a father, if you just abandon your responsibilities like you abandoned me!"

There was a long silence.

"Who said I wanted you?"

I stormed out of the classroom and broke into a sprint. I didn't know where I was going. I just let my feet carry me somewhere, anywhere. All the while something wet rolled down my cheeks.

It tasted like salt.

[Written: 15/11/14]

[Edited: 13/07/16, 12/07/17, 18/05/20]