1. Chapter 1 (1/2)
i can't remember exactly how this came about, but at some point while all the
ight young things were submitting their ucas forms, werepuppyblack and i decided to write fics about the blasted things. as if filling them in once (twice, in my case) wasn't enough. so, anyway... here's the fic i came out with. it's got a sequel which will go up sometime in september, i expect, because at least one of these fics may as well be time-appropriate. you should also check out werepuppyblack's 'the ucas form'.
disclaimer: not mine.
"bertrand, old chap!" jim grant's annoyingly cheery voice boomed down the corridor to stop bertrand in his tracks, forcing a polite nod as the other teacher approached. "valerie still off sick, is she? if you're lucky, she'll be malingering until andrea goes on maternity leave." bertrand sincerely hoped that this wasn't all he'd been flagged down for.
"i'd never wish illness on a colleague, of course." especially since year 9 appeared to be on a mission to drive him mad before they all – hopefully – dropped history upon choosing their gcses.
jim chuckled. "of course, of course, but it's nice to have the work, i'll bet. tutoring doesn't have quite the same dependable hours, does it? anyway, i wanted to talk to you about vlad. he's in my form group, as you know, and i haven't had a ucas form from him yet.
ight lad like him, i wouldn't want him to miss the deadline; perhaps you could check on his progress with it? anyway, duty calls. i'll see you in the staffroom, no doubt!" and with that, the other man disappeared into his classroom to begin his lesson.
bertrand made his way to valerie's desk and took the register before surrendering to the anarchy for his traditional five minutes. in those five minutes, when it appeared that he'd forgotten that there was a lesson to teach, it was easy to spot the worst of the troublemakers. he also identified a student who'd changed class a few weeks ago, but had clearly had him for a lesson before. she was waiting patiently, sitting with her textbook open and her hands folded neatly on her desk, dividing her attention fairly equally between the book and the silent teacher.
this class was not subtle in its rebellion; he quickly identified three particularly loud, irreverent and – in the case of one of the boys – downright vulgar pupils he could reduce to quivering wrecks as an example to the others, but rather than setting to it straight away he took an extra minute to consider what jim had been babbling on about.
vlad was supposed to submit a ucas form soon. he should have realised the deadlines were coming up, but he hadn't even considered that the school would be expecting the chosen one to apply to university. he couldn't go; the idea was preposterous. for one thing, he didn't know of any university that housed all of its lessons and its accommodation in the same building, nor one that employed underground tunnels to get its students from a to b. even if there was such a place, it wouldn't matter. vlad was the chosen one, soon to take his place as grand high vampire. it simply couldn't be done.
yes, preposterous. rather like the behaviour of his year nines. less than two minutes later, one of the ringleaders was sniffling quietly behind his exercise book, and the entire class was giving bertrand their rapt attention. "right, then. who can tell me what conditions were like in the trenches?" he was never quite sure if he enjoyed the trip down memory lane this part of the curriculum gave him, but he certainly couldn't be accused of making it dull.
he thought no more about what jim had said until he knocked and walked into vlad's room that evening, only to find the boy in question frantically stuffing glossy-looking books into his coffin and slamming the lid shut. he raised an eye
ow, but didn't ask what he'd interrupted. he suspected that he didn't want to know.
"oh. bertrand. it's you, i thought you were dad. i want to show you something, actually." he opened the coffin again and bertrand cringed."i really don't need to see- what's that?" it wasn't what he'd been expecting, at any rate."it's... well, it's a prospectus." vlad looked confused for a few moments, as if he couldn't work out what else it would have been, but then his eyes darted across to the sofa and bertrand made a private resolution never to dig behind the seat cushions."i see."
vlad seemed unnerved by his lack of reaction and held it out, open at a dog-eared page, for bertrand to take. he did so and scanned the page carefully while vlad babbled at him."history at the university of surrey. it's supposed to be a really good course, and, well, you always tell me i'm not terrible at history and i quite like it, so i thought maybe... they've got one that's modern history and international relations, too, i could
ush up on my vampire leadership at the same time... or-" he leapt across the room to rummage in his coffin again, emerging with another prospectus, a train ticket marking the page he was most interested in. "or politics at the university of east anglia. that looks pretty cool, and you can't say you wouldn't be thrilled if i got into politics. i think i've been doing ok so far, right?"
bertrand didn't even bother to take the second book thrust his way, crossing instead to peer into vlad's coffin. jammed up against the end, where vlad's feet would rest if he was lying in it, was a veritable li
ary of glossy pamphlets advertising every university from devon to inverness."vlad... you can't be serious." the teenager's expression turned defensive and he crossed his arms."why not? i'm smart enough, all the teachers say so. and i can claim i'm uv-sensitive or allergic or something...""how would you get to lectures, then? and who'd run the council in your absence?" bertrand knew it was harsh, but there was no point sugar-coating it. vlad's dreams of attending university were just that; dreams, and dreams that had no chance of ever becoming reality. the chosen one crumpled."bertrand, i just want to go to uni like any other teenager.""you're not any other teenager. what did your father have to say about it?"vlad sank down onto the sofa, looking tired. "i wanted to talk to you about it first." he snorted mirthlessly, dropping the uea prospectus to the floor. "just as well, really, isn't it?"
"morning, bertrand. still no application from vlad." bertrand sighed."i don't think he'll be going to university, actually."jim seemed horrified by the very idea. "well, talk some sense into him, bertrand, there's a good chap. he's an intelligent boy, he could rule the world, if he was properly encouraged!"
bertrand started the lesson promptly, this class already afraid of him. "so, it's germany. 1933. what can you tell me about this new chancellor who's shaking things up?" they were hesitant at first, but year 11 actually came out with some very astute observations and insights into a period of history that only one person in the room had ever lived through. and even he'd been in a different country at the time.
"bertrand, i don't know what's got into your student. only a week ago he looked just as interested in higher education as anyone in his form – i've never seen one boy with so many prospectuses – and now he claims it's not for him. it would be a terrible shame if he let all that potential go to waste.""if he doesn't want to go, jim, there's no law against i-""we owe him a duty, as educators, to give him the best opportunities in life. this is one of them. talk to him!"