Black Blood

014 - Humble Bee

"Cassiopeia...er..." Professor Lupin called as she attempted to leave his classroom, only to stop herself short and send him a cold stare for his informal, inappropriate usage of her full, first name. "Uh...Ms. Black, I mean, may I have a word before you depart?"

"Cass," Draco quietly called, imploring her with his tone, alone, to leave the scarred, gaunt man to mind his own.

She ignored her cousin and turned fully to face the scraggly, scrawny man, giving him a polite bow, allowing her cold stare to disappear and leave a soft smile within its place.

"Of course, Professor Lupin, you may," she called back, padding her way up to his cluttered desk without a single glance back.

"Thank you," he softly said, showing her a light smile that didn't quite suit his marred features. "Now, let me first start off by mentioning I've taken H...Mr. Potter under my wing."

She blinked rather rapidly, her polite smile slipping as the bizarre statement washed over her mind.

"What, precisely, does that mean to me, Professor?" she asked, thinking the man had gone a little mad.

"Everything, Ms. Black, as it is, in great part, why I felt the need to talk to you," he said, his easy smile morphing into a rather disturbing albeit lighthearted grin that caused a shiver to crawl down her spine. "You see, I didn't allow Mr. Potter to face down his own boggart that day, as I figured he'd see You-Know-Who, and that would've caused quite the disturbance in class, wouldn't you agree?"

'Indeed,' she silently said to herself, feeling another shiver crawl down her spine due to the grim implication.

"During the recent Hogsmeade weekend, instead of visiting the village, Mr. Potter and I had tea together, as he wanted to know why I hadn't allowed him to face his boggart. It was then that I told him of my assumption, and it was then that I allowed him to face his fear, still quite certain of my assumption, but what formed in front of him was no dark wizard, Ms. Black," he continued, dropping his grin, although she could still clearly hear amusement within his half-gruff voice. "While it is no business of mine to tell you what he saw, I'll do so for the sake of context for the conversation at hand. It was a dementor, Ms. Black. That is what Mr. Potter fears most."

"Professor?" Cassiopeia bemusedly queried, unsure why he was telling her such, or why any context for their conversation was in any way necessary.

"To make a long story short, Ms. Black, Mr. Potter asked me how one would go about dealing with such a creature, and I, being his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, told him," he replied, showing her, once more, that disturbing grin of his. "But, as I'm sure you're already aware of, performing the Patronus charm is easier said than done."

"You're...teaching Potter, a third-year student, how to perform the Patronus charm?" she calmly asked, whilst internally, she felt quite confounded by the news.

"Yes, Ms. Black, and it's because of this that I felt it would be unfair to aid one student of mine in need, but not the other," he quietly returned, adopting, once more, the easy smile he'd previously worn.

"Professor, with all due respect, the Patronus charm, I should think, would do very little to deter a muggleborn witch," she indifferently replied, not allowing her inner mirth at the idea of using the aforementioned charm upon a hapless Granger to show.

"No, indeed, I should, likewise, think it would not," he lightly jested, chortling, possibly, because he'd envisioned the same scenario. "But I wonder, Ms. Black, if a muggleborn is what you truly fear the most."

"I...beg your pardon?" Cassiopeia uneasily asked, unsure if she'd misheard or misunderstood what he'd said. "My boggart took the form of Granger, Professor, therefore, and you should know this better than I, my greatest fear is, in fact, Granger."

"Is it, though?" he solemnly asked, steepling his hands in front of his gaunt, scarred face. "Or is it merely what she represents to you, Ms. Black?"

"What...she represents?" the girl blankly asked, ignoring something cold that wanted to crawl up from within her belly.

"When I saw the boggart change into Ms. Granger's form, I'll admit, I was quite shocked Ms. Black," he continued on, not answering the question she'd asked, one which she very much felt needed a sound answer. "But what surprised me more was your reaction."

"My...reaction...Professor?" Cassiopeia quietly queried, unable to situate any sort of emotion into her voice.

"Yes, Ms. Black, your reaction," he confirmed with utterly serious eyes. "There was fear, of course, but to me, it seemed completely dim in comparison to what else I saw."

"What...did you see, Professor?" she asked in a faint whisper, that cold something placing itself into her throat.

"Frankly, Ms. Black, when I first set sight on you, I thought you were the very image of pureblood nobility," he replied, diverting his answer, one which she felt desperate to know. "And nothing, up until the point you confronted the boggart, and even afterwards, in fact, has made me think otherwise."

'What is he trying to tell me?' she wondered, wishing he would simply spout his intent aloud.

"And frankly, Ms. Black, most likely because you seem the very image of pureblood nobility, you don't strike me as a very humble individual," he blatantly stated.

"Of course not, Professor," she simply replied, which caused the man's sunken eyes to bulge in something akin to stark surprise. "Humbleness is a trait befitting low-born lessers who've made a name for themselves, and who recognize such. I am a bred and born witch of purest nobility. My natural place is upon the epitome of wizarding society. Humbleness does not course within my veins."

"I'm...honestly speechless, Ms. Black," he muttered, and truly, every feature he had looked the part. "It's both saddening and telling why your boggart is represented by Ms. Granger, though I suspect any muggleborn could've taken her place, or any muggle, for that matter, if you'd ever met and conversed with one, which I sincerely doubt you have."

"I beg your pardon?" Cassiopeia asked, floored and flabbergasted by his strange statement. "What, precisely, are you attempting to impart upon me, Professor?"

"What I'm trying to impart upon you, Ms. Black, is that whatever history you have with Ms. Granger, and yes, I know you have some, as Mr. Potter has kindly told me, is causing you to think less of yourself by a certain means," he solemnly said, narrowing his hardened eyes into her shocked own. "In short, Ms. Black, Ms. Granger, and most likely any muggleborn you can think up on the spot that you personally know, makes you feel insecure about your inner image."

She opened her pretty pink lips to outright deny his awful words and to tell him how inappropriate she thought it was that he felt the need to insult her, a student he was supposed to protect and guide, but nothing came out. Nothing at all.

"You're just more concerned about your inner image than most."

"How...how dare-" she quietly began, choking upon her own outrage and disbelief.

"Ms. Black, to be completely frank, you lack humility, or, at the very least, you lack the courage to face what humility you do possess, and I believe that's what you came face to face with the other day. I believe that's what I saw, plain as day, through your dim, dulled fear," he simply said, not a hint of remorse within his sunken eyes or half-gruff voice.

"I'm just telling you how it is."

"Be silent!" she angrily shrieked, although Cassiopeia couldn't say as to whom she was truly speaking. "I...you don't know me! You haven't the slightest idea!"

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed through the door, hatred for the man she'd left within her wake burning as brightly as any she'd ever fostered for Granger.

"You don't know me!" she hissed to herself as tears of outrage began to freely flow. "You haven't a clue!"