The Devil Doesn't Bargain (MatD part 2)

Chapter NINE - Chamomile

I wanted to follow him, or at least see where he might be going, but before I could do any of that, a rather solemn professor Fig stepped ahead of me, eyes heavy but tips of a comforting smile touching his cheeks. Our eyes locked and he opened his arms hesitantly, offering a hug right there in the middle of the hallway.

Of course I took it.

Diving in and nearly knocking the poor man over though he didn't seem to mind, humming gently as he wrapped his arms over my back.

A tight burning sensation prickled at the back of my nose and I worried the tears would be next.

"Oh my dear." He cooed and I didn't care if other students were watching, I held on tighter and the tears did come.

My heart clinging to the first constant I'd had after losing my parents and letting the chaos and heartbreak of the last few months spill over the edge. They toppled suddenly, so abruptly so that the power of my emotions startled me and nearly blocked my lungs of breathe.

Perhaps I'd been holding in more than I realized.

"Why don't we take a moment and head to my office hmm? I think I hear a warm cup of chamomile tea calling your name!" He rubbed my back and I was reminded of my father. I hiccuped. "Ah yes. It's definitely calling."

All I could do was nod though I didn't pull back. Professor Fig placed his hands gently on my shoulders and I ignored the ache in them as he led me through a few ogling students and up to his office where he promptly shut the door and conjured over a particularly fluffy looking chair from the corner of the room. Tucking me into is and making a show of wrapping me like a burrito in a thick blanket, I couldn't help but smile back at him, grateful but feeling entirely unworthy of his care.

He shuffled over to a rickety looking cabinet and tossed open the top shelf doors, rifling through them rather dramatically.

"Where... hmmm..." He mumbled to himself. "They should be... ah! Right then!" He smiled and pulled forth two of the oldest looking tea cups I had ever seen. The winding vine pattern along the sides had begun to sink within the cup itself with wear, a slight shift in color mulling over the edges.

He caught me watching and looked down to the cups in his hand.

"Miriam and I bought these the very first day we met." He beamed at the memory, smiling to himself though he spoke to me. "She was insistent on finding a new cup for her tea though I think she may have just been avoiding the pile of coursework she had to finish. I, the budding romantic I was, was all too keen to tell her I knew the best spot in Hogsmeade for all things porcelain and tea related."

Professor Fig chuckled and shook his head, bringing the two cups over to his desk where I noticed a steaming tea pot for the first time. Gently he begun to pour a bit into each cup as he continued.

"Of course I knew nothing of the sort and instead brought her to the only shop I knew might have any sort of cups or dishes. A dusty old antique shop that's been there for years now. We scoured the shelves for hours and I knew if we didn't find something soon, this girl would think me mad and surely be on her way. So I approached the shop keep when Miriam wasn't looking and asked her for suggestions." He stepped back over to me, placing one of the steaming little cups into my hand, I reveled in the warmth. "She winked, disappeared in the back and brought these two cups out from what I think may have been her own lunch sack!"

I smiled down at my cup, trying to picture a young professor Fig desperate to impress his future wife and panicking so much so that the poor shop owner felt bad enough to give him her own cups.

Professor Fig took a sip, and a giggled at the unapologetic way he slurped it.

"I think that woman may be the reason I married Miriam. She saved me from utter and absolute embarrassment without a second thought as to what she may be losing herself."

He smiled at me expectantly and I raised the cup to my lips, sipping just as he had. The warm liquid felt good down my aching throat and the burn of the tears slipped down with it.

Only after the two of us had completely finished our cups did he speak again. The moments of silence had been an unexpected comfort.

"Should you ever wish to speak about- about what happened. I should hope you know I am always here my dear. Doors always open..." he looked up to his actual office door and laughed quietly. "...well not literally of course. Can't have the rabble wandering in during morning tea! But for you my dear, always unlocked."

"Thank you sir." I hummed. And though the tea had done wonders to soothe my aching soul, it had done little to soothe the ache in my bones. I grimaced a bit as something shifted below my chest, no doubt the curse reminding me of its ever pressing presence.

Professor Fig cocked his head, watching me through newly squinted eyes.

"What is it?"

"What is what?" I tried to play dumb, suddenly incredibly nervous that I hadn't entirely planned out how to explain Anne's sudden turn for the better and mine for the worse.

He eyed me closer, no doubt wondering if he should press further.

"I may be old, but I'm surely not blind. Are you hurt sweet girl?"

I kept my lips shut tight, thumb running absentmindedly over the rim of the teacup.

"I- I'm fine. Truly...."

"But?" He prompted quietly from his adjacent seat.

"Anne's doing much better now. She's got so much spunk that girl!" I tried, unsuccessfully, to take the attention off me and instead giving the man the final connection he needed to piece it together.

I could see the gears shifting as he watched me. "It is quite a miracle she overcame such pain-"

His eyes widened and my heart clenched at the understanding and betrayal that etched behind them.

He'd always been far smarter than some gave him credit for.

"Oh my dear Atley... you- you didn't..."

Our eyes locked, my heart pounding, bones aching.

"You took her pain... didn't you?"

A bit of tea dripped down the edge of my cup.