[identity profile] secondsilk.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tthdrabbles
eum laudant
By Rose Williams.
Rated G.

This is an idea that has been in my head for a while now. This was a perfect opportunity to exorcise it.
I do not own the characters herein. They belong to either Joss Whedon or J.K Rowling.
The titles are "I praise/eulogise my teacher" and "I praise/eulogise Giles."
They are 200 words each.



I did not know Mr Giles well. I met him many years ago, in my sixth year at Hogwarts. He taught me things no one else could about Voldemort and how to fight. But I learnt more from him then he thought.
He was a troubled man. I was sixteen years old, and there was a lot I didn’t understand. But he knew what Voldemort could do. And he knew what my destiny could do to me.
He could be dark and restless as well as strong. I appreciated that he was doing what he had to do. Somehow I could help him, just by doing what I had to.
I still don’t know what had happened to him. But his past appeared at odd moments; when he told me that my death would not mean the end of the world; when we sent Draco Malfoy in as a scout; when he played chess against Remus Lupin.
All I wanted for him, at the end of two years under his tutelage, was a chance for him to rest. A chance for him to be who he was, and to allow his hidden side some freedom. I wish him every peace.




Despite what many people thought about our relationship, Giles and I weren’t close. We were barely friends, let alone lovers. I was the Slayer, he was my Watcher. That defined our relationship for close to seven years.
In the next two years Harry learnt more about than I had ever cared to know. In our history he betrayed me twice, left me when I needed him most, and paid the price when I couldn’t do my duty.
I knocked him out when he wanted to protect me and shut him out when he tried to tell me what I didn’t want to hear.
It was only in the last few years that we began to have the relationship we might have had as friends. I began to learn that he was a complex man, much more than a Watcher, a researcher or a friend.
He will be missed so desperately by those to whom he was mentor, friend, lover, teacher, father; to those who ever met him, or spent anytime with him. I wish I had taken more time to know him. I don’t know where he thought he might go, when the end came. I just hope he’s happy.
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