Detention Talks

After calling out to his last class to remind them of their upcoming essay on Giant wars, Professor Fortier sat down at his desk and sighed. He was forgoing his free period for a detention with a student caught cheating on the final exam. He took that very seriously. The student was Isobel Green. She wasn't anything very extraordinary. She didn't cause trouble in his class, at least. She didn't seem to pay much attention, which sadly made her the norm. This detention, he decided, he wouldn't ask the cliched "why did you do it?" question. The answer was obvious. She hadn't known the answers and thought she could get away with it. Professor Fortier had little use for such rhetorical questions. Instead he would try to understand her better, while being as formal as possible.

"Take a seat here," the professor announced when the second year walked in, pointing at the desk nearest his. He decided to start off with the obligatory speech. "Miss Green, you understand the severity of what you did. Cheating is considered a serious offense. On your O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts, they may even be considered criminal. This is not just a zero on a test, although that certainly isn't something to take lightly. Your future is at stake here." He paused, watching her for a reaction.

"So tell me about yourself, Miss Green," he continued, in a softer tone. "Who are you, really? What is your history?" Professor Fortier sat forward, but not too close as to give her space. "I remember your brothers. Stark and Ryan. Stark was very kind." He didn't know what to say about Ryan. Neither of them were very extraordinary, he just found it fascinating to teach students of the same family. "Neither of them mentioned a sister." Not that either of them spoke much with him. But Ryan was always boasting about his brother.

She had been busted for cheating. And she knew for a fact that her charm wasn't going to get her out of the immediate detention she received.

So she shuffled into the classroom and sat down at the desk Professor Fortier had pointed at.

Isobel rolled her eyes at the your future is at stake part. Grades weren't important until fifth year. Wolf had told her so.

"I don't have to tell you anything," she spat. Isobel crossed her arms and looked away. She'd sit in the classroom and write her lines like anyone else. Then she'd leave.

"Don't talk about my brothers. They aren't any of your business, either." Isobel felt defensive of Stark, even though they had never met. And Ryan wasn't a trouble maker in class. He shut up and minded his own business. So of course the professor didn't know about her.

Professor Fortier was taken aback by the young lady's disrespect. Perhaps it was slightly better than boredom. Nevertheless he wouldn't tolerate it. "You need not tell me your deepest secrets. But sadly, it is my business whether or not you want to pass this class. And furthermore, you do have to talk to me respectfully," he replied, folding his arms. Her grades for the class were mediocre, but the final exam would certainly bring them down. 

"As you wish. We won't. We will talk about you. Or," the professor paused, handing her a quill from his drawer, "you can choose to write about it instead. A one thousand word essay about your strengths and weaknesses and why your grades matter to your future. Quite an appropriate theme, as the graduates have returned. Perhaps you can learn from one of them. Due at the end of this detention, or it's another one thousand words added on. Same standard essay format as with homework, with an introduction, at least two body paragraphs, and a conclusion." Professor Fortier sat back, satisfied. She had likely expected lines. Professor Fortier considered them quite useless as they required no thought.

Her eyes narrowed. "You don't have time to read an essay about me. Surely you have better things to do," Isobel replied coolly. He was obviously bluffing. People often underestimated her intelligence. "And I would gladly hand in a poorly written paper. I could make up whatever I want and just move on. And you wouldn't be able to read it anyway."

Isobel could see it now. An essay written in English about what an asshole Professor Fortier was and how much she hated the hell hole that was Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. She bit her lip to avoid laughing. That would probably get her in more trouble. Not that she really cared at this point. What more could he do?

"On the contrary," Professor Fortier replied casually, shuffling his huge stack of exam papers. "It will be quite a refreshing respite from grading a thousand exams, albeit a thousand exams completed on their own merit." He took out his quill and began grading the top one. "As long as you reasonably complete this essay, you will not have to complete another detention. It mustn't be a masterpiece," he certainly didn't expect it to, anyway, "but you must have proper spelling and grammar, essay formatting, and stay on topic. And of course, complete the word limit." He looked at the clock. "I suggest you start now, Miss. Green, you have just slightly over thirty minutes."

He waited patiently for her response or for her to start writing, not looking up. The exam he was grading was perfect, he could not have asked for better answers. These kinds of performances made him happy. He marked a satisfying "Outstanding" on the exam before moving on to the next in the hefty pile.

"I'm going to fail either way, so is there even a point?" she asked rhetorically. She didn't think she could write a decent essay in English. French was going to be even worse. She could do it just fine if she were speaking and had someone else write it. But that wasn't allowed on exams.

So she just sat there in silence. She was not going to cry. Crying was for quitters. If she cried every time she got worked up or offended, she'd never make it in this world. She'd be one of those drippy, whiny girls. And that wasn't the Isobel way. She was fighting it and winning, so far.