Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. For the "Long Haul Competition III" and "The If You Dare Challenge".
Prompt: Successful Career (#306)
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Hermit Hearts Unfold
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Chapter 1:
Slytherins and Gryffindors
Tracey Davis was not a morning person. In point of fact, she was as far from a morning person, as it was possible to be.
Were the young and very recently minted auror not a witch, she might just have been a vampire, as she did prefer to go to sleep as the sun was to rise and wake when it was to set. Although, that wasn't the only reason she'd earned the nickname, little vampire, from more than one of her ex-boyfriends.
But that is neither here nor there.
On that fateful morning, in spite of not being a morning person, Tracey Davis found herself trudging through the auror offices. Her feet dragged on the floor, as she ambled through with all the grace of a zombie, sure to make many wonder how she'd ever managed to pass her stealth tests for Auror training with such high marks.
"It's too bloody fucking hot," were the first words out of her mouth as she stopped next to her partner's cubicle, one Harry James Potter's.
Harry, who had gotten used to his partner's antics in the past month or so that they'd been paired together, did little more than look up from his desk. However, his gaze froze on the form of the witch before him.
Tracey Davis, in spite of her foul mouth, even fouler morning temper, and her less than preoccupied style of dress, was an extremely attractive witch. And he'd have to have been blind not to be momentarily stupified by her form of dress, or the fact that she wore so very little beneath her open, midnight-purple, auror-robes.
Very long, lean and pale legs were smooth and on display due to the jean-shorts that fell several inches short of mid-thigh. A spaghetti strap shirt in navy blue failed to cover the full expanse of her torso and showed a sliver of her lower abdomen and the ridge of her hipbones. It's neckline, while not immodest, still showed a tantalizing amount of creamy skin.
Her hair, which reminded him of red-velvet cake, was swooped into a high ponytail out of her face. Which while pretty, was presently sporting a scowl, instead of the bored expression he was used to seeing.
"You're drooling, Potter," the girl with a naturally sultry voice sniped at him, vexation coating her tone.
Harry blushed as he, rather stupidly he thought to himself later, denied the fact.
He the proceeded to glare at the red-headed girl he'd been forced to work with. In spite of her good looks, and being wrong about her in the past, Harry Potter still couldn't get past Davis' prickly exterior. Granted, that may simply be because they started on the wrong foot, but he was making an effort!
For her part, Tracey wasn't so easy. She didn't exactly get over things very quickly. It was not a trait that she prided herself on and was trying to curb, but old habits and all that...
She was trying to get over Potter's initial prejudice against her, but it was difficult. And she often had lapses without meaning to. Though, she felt she couldn't really be blamed at the moment. Heat had never agreed with her, in spite being a child born in summer. And mornings certainly had never agreed with her.
Besides... she couldn't help it that Potter couldn't understand the extremely dual nature of Slytherins.
After all, just because she wasn't pleasant, friendly and kind to him, didn't mean she was incapable of it.
"So what's our-" Tracey started to ask, modulating her tone so that it was aloof instead of foul-tempered, when she was suddenly struck with a wave of light-headedness. Her arm struck out to the low wall of Harry's cubicle and held on to it as black spots appeared before her vision.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked with his brows lightly furrowed. He stood up immediately and hesitated to put a supportive hand on Tracey's person.
"Yeah, I'm just really light-headed," she replied as she continued to try to blink the black spots away. However, any movement of her head, made it spin and the spots in her vision multiply. She was beginning to feel extremely queasy as her vision faltered to.
Her heart started to beat quicker as a flare of panic shot through her at what the hell was going on her with her sight. Heat, flushed up her neck and cheeks, only worsening the sensation in her stomach, which threatened to make her breakfast of tea and toast reappear.
"It's probably just the heat," she stated, hoping rather fervently that she wasn't pregnant. But she immediately discarded that possibility, as she was always very careful whenever she had sex, and the symptoms weren't quite right. After all, she was queasy from feeling light-headed and hot. Besides, she hadn't had sex in a few months.
"Have you been hydrating properly?" Harry asked with mild concern, aware that because of the intense Heatwave presently being experienced in Britain, that there were more than a few incidents of heat stroke around.
Tracey was about to respond when suddenly her vision cleared and the upset in her stomach quelled. She smiled as she was able to straighten-out, for the moment ignoring the way her skin felt wet with perspiration.
Unfortunately, it was short-lived relief. In an instant, she felt as if her energy were sapped and her muscles turned into jelly before she was consumed by blackness.
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Minerva McGonagall stared down at the young woman across from her.
The young witch with dark hair, was only twenty-six. However, in spite of that, she was quite accomplished. A Potions Mistress of Bronze Class was nothing to sneer at, even if it wasn't the highest class that the Guild of Potions Masters awarded. But for a witch of only twenty-six years, it was very impressive. And in that respect, she was the most qualified for the position, now that Slughorn decided to retire.
"I'm impressed, Miss Farley," Minerva said, to which the young witch offered an impish grin.
Though it had been many years since Minerva had last seen the girl, and though Gemma Farley had been in Slytherin, that did not mean that Minerva did not remember her.
Gemma Farley, as a student, had a very checkered record. While not necessarily a trouble-maker, she was an opinionated and spirited lass. There was no doubt that she was intelligent, but when Severus had put her name forward for Prefect, Minerva had been very doubtful that the girl would take the responsibility seriously.
However, Gemma had proven to not only be a very competent Prefect, but a very fair and responsible one. She would have probably made Head Girl, if her grades and record were as impeccable as Penelope Clearwater's.
"I was in Slytherin for a reason, Professor. And while I may not have been the best in Transfiguration, and been a bit lazy where my other subjects were concerned, I achieve what I set my heart on. And Potions has always been a passion of mine," Gemma grinned.
"You're a bit younger than I'd prefer for the position," Minerva stated with a slight frown.
"Professor Snape was only twenty-one when he started teaching here," Gemma pointed out evenly, causing Minerva to raise a brow. Asking how she knew that, was on the tip of her tongue, but Minerva pushed it aside. It was irrelevant to their purpose.
"And you do not wish to pursue the Silver or Gold class in Potions?" Minerva asked, to which Gemma had a ready answer.
"A Gold Class in Potions has not been awarded to anyone since Professor Snape earned one when he was twenty-four. Professor Snape is a genius where Potions are concerned, and I do not delude myself in believing that I am in the same class. However, I do intend to pursue a Silver Class, but that pursuit may take years and in that time, I want to do something worth my while," Gemma replied in confident tones.
"Working in St. Mungo's was not?" Minerva asked, raising a brow.
"Brewing Potions in their labs, for it's exclusive use, doesn't give one much variation. I can brew to perfection every possible tonic, Potion and anti-venom known to wizards, but it doesn't leave much time to experimenting or working on Potions outside the realm of Healing," Gemma replied with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
"You have no experience teaching," Minerva pointed out.
"I don't think very many, Professors do, before they start. But I did tutor a few students when I attended Hogwarts and I know how to handle trouble-makers," Gemma replied, not at all troubled by the fact that she didn't have experience.
Gemma could see that Professor McGonagall still wasn't very convinced.
"I heard Professor Lupin is working here," Gemma hedged, wondering if she could get an edge. Once she was sure she had Professors attention, she went on delicately. "Is someone brewing the wolfbane potion for him?"
"Professor Slughorn was brewing it," Professor McGonagall replied with tight lips, unsure where Gemma was going with the topic. Though as headmistress, she did have a responsibility towards applicants, in regards to their safety.
"The wolfbane Potion while being exceedingly fastidious to make, is very simple for any Potions Master worth their metal... some of its ingredients are also considered very pricey," Gemma said, with a slight smirk. "As I worked in St. Mungos, I have significant experience with the potion and I can make it in my sleep."
Professor McGonagall looked at Gemma Farley with a sharp gaze over the rim of her glasses. For her part, Gemma merely smiled in turn in a way that was not quite smug, but told McGonagall that Miss Farley knew, she'd won the game.
Minerva sighed. She wasn't fond of many Slytheirns, but she had to admit, she liked Miss Farley's spunk.
TBC...
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