I couldn't help but laugh when I read the first page:
"A woman by name of Hooch,
Dearly loved to screw the pooch,
With a bark and a groan,
You could hear the girl moan,
As the Doggie rammed into her...shit...
And ..... er....um....FUCK!
Smooch, pooch, hooch...scootch...nah
[Shit, wrote myself into a corner. That would have been a good one too. Hmmmm....what else rhymes with Hooch besides pooch...mooch, scootch (although I believe this is an American word that means “move”). Shit! A good limerick wasted. I’ll have to try this one again later.]
[Later: SMOOCH! I forgot SMOOCH!
And afterwards gave him a smooch.
Oh well, that one lost its edge. I’ll have to try another one.]"
It was charming, somehow. He'd tried to write a dirty limerick about us. I hoped the remaining pages were more successful than this first attempt. Even without his loss for the word "smooch" the first two lines didn't quite scan. But even so…
I started to turn to the next page when I heard a sound from out in the corridor. Turning off my lamp I peeked out into the hallway to see what it could have been.
There was a light coming from under the door to the Gryffindor Locker Room. Only members of the teams know the passwords to unlock the doors when there isn't a match going on, so it could only be one of seven students. But why would a student be here, and at this time of night?
I decided to investigate. Putting Sirius's pages back into the envelope, I tucked them into an inner pocket of my robe and went to the Gryffindor Locker Room. The student hadn't locked the door behind them, so going in was both simple and silent. I didn't see anything at first, but heard the distinct sound of a shower running.
A student came all the way out here for a shower? Unless it was two students. That would make more sense. If only limited people know a password, there's less chance of being interrupted during "water sports".
Well, I can certainly sympathize with that. And unlike some of the other members of the faculty, I feel no pressing need to stop the kids from indulging their instincts. Not only does Poppy provide them with personal spells to prevent "accidents", there is also a Barrier Spell over Hogwarts itself. As long as a student wakes up each morning within the walls of the castle, they will be unable to conceive. Headmaster Dippet had invoked it back during the days of the Sexual Liberation and Albus had seen no reason to change that.
Since I wasn't interested in seeing anything I didn't need to --especially since neither of my recent lovers would be available to me ever again-- I sat down on one of the benches and prepared to wait for a while. I would catch them unaware & present a scowling disapproval & tell them not to use this place for their illicit meetings again. Yada-Yada.
I was surprised, therefore, when I heard the water turn off fairly quickly. If the sound I'd heard initially was them coming in to the Locker Room, then they'd only been here about 10 minutes. Hardly enough time to indulge in more than a little bit of foreplay. I put on my best "Stern Disapproving Face" and waited.
Soon Virginia Weasley stepped out of the Bathing Room by herself, drying her hair with a towel. As she reached up with both arms, the towel wrapped around her torso slipped and I saw a frightening series of bruises. I must have gasped when I saw them, because she suddenly looked up at me. She was obviously horrified as she held the other towel in front of her body.
"Miss Weasley," I said. "Virginia. I would like to see you in my office as soon as you are dressed. There are …things… we must speak of." When she nodded, I left the Locker Room, giving the girl some obviously much-needed privacy.
I went into my office trying to determine the best way to approach the delicate subject of Virginia's bruises. Should I be blunt and ask straight out which boy had left those marks? Should I offer sympathy? Should I let her know that she isn't to blame for the assault? She did seem embarrassed and a bit ashamed, but she didn't seem distraught. And from the color of the marks, they were very recent, no more than two days old.
Before I could decide what approach to take, I was interrupted by the girl herself.
"Sit down, Miss Weasley." I gestured to a chair before my desk. Then I realized I didn't want the desk between us and pulled up another seat beside her. "What happened, Virginia?"
"Nonsense. You know what I saw, and I know what it means. There is nothing for you to be ashamed of."
"It's not what you think," she whispered, looking down into her lap."
"I think some young man got rough with you. Am I wrong?"
"Has this happened before?"
"Who was it?"
"I-- I can't tell you."
"Can't? Or won't?"
"Because you'll punish him."
"Damned right I'll punish him!"
I don't generally lose my temper in front of the students. I don't generally lose my temper at all. But Virginia Weasley has always reminded me of myself at her age, and this was as if her assailant had attacked me personally. I was furious.
But my fury seemed to be frightening her.
"Virginia, I know how hard this can be, but if someone has assaulted you, I cannot turn my back on it. You were obviously badly used by some young man and he needs to be shown that such behavior is not acceptable. I understand that you might wish to put this behind you, avoid the scandal as well as the pain of bringing this out into the open, but that really won't help at all. We have to deal with the fiend that raped you."
"It wasn't rape."
She had spoken so softly I almost didn't hear her. "What was that?"
"I said I wasn't raped."
Have you ever been flying and suddenly discovered your broom was no longer beneath you? I felt a lot like I imagine that would feel.
"But you agreed some young man had gotten rough with you."
"Things just got a little… We got carried… It was an… He didn't really mean to hurt me. I know he didn't."
"Virginia, you needn't defend him."
"I'm not defending him. Not the way you mean. We just got a bit too …enthusiastic." The poor thing blushed to the roots of her hair.
And I realized that she might be even more like me than I had supposed.
"Are you telling me this was completely consensual?"
"And you don't mind what he did?"
She looked up at me. "Well, I could hardly complain, could I? These aren't half so bad as the marks I left on him."
Good girl! I wanted to shout my approval at her.
"That's not what I asked."
"Um… actually… No. I didn't mind." And then she returned her gaze to her lap. And I began to truly understand.
"Virginia, this may be a bit awkward, and I assure you I'm not asking just to be nosy. Did you enjoy it when Master Draco got rough with you?" Then I realized the alternate meaning of what I'd called him and almost laughed. If this was going where I though it might be, it was an appropriate title for him indeed.
"Yes. I did. It just felt right, like it was something we both needed."
Ah. "You said this has never happened before?"
"No. We've never left marks. We were always careful about that."
"Ginny, there's one more thing I have to ask, and then you can tell me the rest is none of my business: Do you trust him to have stopped if you didn't like it?"
Her shocked expression was all the answer I needed; her words only confirmed it. "Of course he would have stopped if I'd asked! He would never force anything on me."
"I'm very relieved to hear that. As long as that's true, then I don't need to tell anyone about this." She slumped in her chair, seeming to be as happy about that as I was. "As long as no one is truly getting hurt, then your …activities… are not my concern. But, if you need someone to talk with about it, I am always available."
"I understand that with seven children, your mother is more than capable of explaining all about love and such. But I imagine your parents' idea of 'Deviant Sex' means that Molly's on top." She gasped, and then giggled. "I'm a bit more familiar with such things and am more than willing to discuss them with you if you find yourself curious or confused."
"I think I'll be all right, Madame Hooch, but thank you for the offer."
As she rose from her chair I remembered one more thing. I got a jar of salve out of my supply cabinet and offered it to her. "For the bruises."
By the time we were done with our talk, it was fairly late and I was tired. I decided I shall read the rest of the limericks in bed. I can use a good laugh to send me off to sleep. And who knows? They may even inspire some interesting dreams.
I do miss Sirius.