❁Chapter 20❁

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[ya kno the drill i'm not supposed to write blah blah blah]

Chapter 20

Her friends hadn't seen Bea for a full week, not even James...or Beau.

She didn't show up to her detention on the Thursday just three days before Christmas break, but she showed up to McGonagall's office on Friday with bags under her eyes and her hair so messy that it seemed like a nest made for birds.

She had written McGonagall a letter, and with that letter was a package for the woman and an apology, too.

"I'm sorry for skipping yesterday's detention," she said, clasping her hands in front of her and with a deep breath, she gestured to the package and the letter, "it's a thank you...and a Christmas present too. I can make up for the detention now if you want me to?"

McGonagall could hardly think of the words to speak as she looked over Bea's appearance, and with her glasses lowered and a sigh - the woman spoke, "I think what you need, Miss Lupin, is a nice bath and a sleep."

"I don't think I can argue with that Professor," Bea said truthfully, her shoulders visibly slumping that the woman wasn't going to make her sit for an hour to do absolutely nothing.

"Thank you, Bea," McGonagall allowed herself to smile, "though I hope this is not to get a higher mark in my class."

Bea smiled at her teasing, but shook her head nonetheless, "of course not, Professor...but if it helps-"

McGonagall laughed, and Bea smiled too, "get out of here before I lower your mark, Phoebe."

"Have a good night, Professor," Bea whispered, bidding her a quick goodbye and turning to leave when she received one from the woman.

She didn't go to bed or have a bath that night. In fact, she ventured back to her gallery to finish what she was doing.

The walls were hardly halfway done but that was clearly out of her mind as she closed the door behind her, and retook her seat on her stool with a sigh.

McGonagall read over the letter with a shaky breath and her hand to her chest. She, like many, could never truly understand the pain that someone like Bea had been through...someone so strong with so many layers that it seemed she was perfectly fine - though demons crawled within that she tried so hard to keep tame.

And the thank you letter, the thank you for helping her through such a time was something easily able to break Minerva's heart to the point that a single tear fell. She moved onto the package after the third time reading over the girl's words, and carefully pulled at the string.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the canvas, of her...of her with her three Patronus' that Bea had seen plenty of times in her classroom. The painting was moving, she was standing with her arms crossed as the cats walked around her - guarding her, and around her was a flurry of flowers, of plants and brightness...it was a piece of Bea within a portrait of the woman and more tears fell.

She turned it around, and written in messily scribbled writing was a small, 'merry Christmas, Professor!'

Professor Sprout was almost shocked to hear a knock at her door so late at night, it was just after ten and she was reading through one of Bea's old essays, funnily enough when the knock brought her back from such vivid descriptions of plants hardly discovered yet.

There was no one at the door when she opened it, but lying on the ground was a similar parcel to that of Professor McGonagall's and a letter addressed to her sitting neatly on top. She could recognise that writing anywhere, and she picked it up without a second thought whilst closing the door behind her.

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