The Substitute
A/N: this story is the product of a boring English class. I really don't think there's anything else to say!
"Hullo, what's going on?" Harry slid into his usual seat next to Ron. "Where's Snape?"
"I don't know, "Ron shrugged, "Probably off getting information from You-Know-Who. We'll have a substitute teacher I guess. Wonder who it'll be."
The last time Snape had missed a class McGonagall had taken over and it had been dreadful. The bang of a door opening brought all eyes to the dungeon entrance. A short man with an abnormally large head stood in the opening, a solemn scowl on his face. His green robes were dirty and tattered, but the arrogance in his manner kept comments at bay. "Good morning, I'm Professor Rokeby. I will be your new Potions Professor."
"New potions professor?" Ron whispered softly to Harry, "What happened to Snape?" Whispered comments similar to Ron's could be heard from all over the room.
Harry turned a concerned gaze over to Malfoy, the blonde boy's pale skin looked even paler than usual and his eyes were a deeper shade of silver, but his expression was one of composure as he raised his voice in a question.
"Where's Professor Snape?" Draco's cold, cultured voice echoed off the stone walls drawing every eye to him.
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but Professor Snape is no longer with us." Professor Rokeby said seating himself on the edge of Snape's desk, for the classroom and its contents were still Snape's in the eyes of his former students.
Rokeby's comment brought an uproar from the class. Pansy Parkinson began to cry in loud choking sobs, while Crabbe and Goyle worked to keep their expressions blank. Harry felt tears well up behind his eyes but pushed all thoughts aside and looked at Malfoy.
Draco had begun to gather his books in a brisk professional manner, and when he was done he stood and strode confidently out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.
Without a thought Harry rose from his seat and followed the other boy. In the corridor he caught a glimpse of Draco's black cloak disappearing around the corner. "Malfoy!" he called, rounding the corner at a run.
"What do you want Potter?" Draco had turned and was facing Harry with a look of loathing. "You're not needed here." Draco's cheeks were flushed with anger but the evidence of tears were still evident I his blazing eyes and on his cheeks.
Harry reached out a hand to gently wipe a tear away. "It'll be ok, somehow we'll all get by." He placed a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder trying to, in some small way, show how much he cared.
Draco sighed, it was an exhausted sound. "Your lot doesn't understand what it's like. It's not going to be ok." He felt his shoulder muscles relaxing under Harry's gentle touch and cursed his own weakness. "Thanks though, for thinking it could be." He said, trying to smile. He felt Harry move closer to him and his own body relaxed into the muscular arms that circled him. He tried to fight it, but it felt so right to be standing here, wrapped in the comforting arms of his arch nemesis. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against Harry's shoulder.
A/N: this story is the product of a boring English class. I really don't think there's anything else to say!
"Hullo, what's going on?" Harry slid into his usual seat next to Ron. "Where's Snape?"
"I don't know, "Ron shrugged, "Probably off getting information from You-Know-Who. We'll have a substitute teacher I guess. Wonder who it'll be."
The last time Snape had missed a class McGonagall had taken over and it had been dreadful. The bang of a door opening brought all eyes to the dungeon entrance. A short man with an abnormally large head stood in the opening, a solemn scowl on his face. His green robes were dirty and tattered, but the arrogance in his manner kept comments at bay. "Good morning, I'm Professor Rokeby. I will be your new Potions Professor."
"New potions professor?" Ron whispered softly to Harry, "What happened to Snape?" Whispered comments similar to Ron's could be heard from all over the room.
Harry turned a concerned gaze over to Malfoy, the blonde boy's pale skin looked even paler than usual and his eyes were a deeper shade of silver, but his expression was one of composure as he raised his voice in a question.
"Where's Professor Snape?" Draco's cold, cultured voice echoed off the stone walls drawing every eye to him.
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but Professor Snape is no longer with us." Professor Rokeby said seating himself on the edge of Snape's desk, for the classroom and its contents were still Snape's in the eyes of his former students.
Rokeby's comment brought an uproar from the class. Pansy Parkinson began to cry in loud choking sobs, while Crabbe and Goyle worked to keep their expressions blank. Harry felt tears well up behind his eyes but pushed all thoughts aside and looked at Malfoy.
Draco had begun to gather his books in a brisk professional manner, and when he was done he stood and strode confidently out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.
Without a thought Harry rose from his seat and followed the other boy. In the corridor he caught a glimpse of Draco's black cloak disappearing around the corner. "Malfoy!" he called, rounding the corner at a run.
"What do you want Potter?" Draco had turned and was facing Harry with a look of loathing. "You're not needed here." Draco's cheeks were flushed with anger but the evidence of tears were still evident I his blazing eyes and on his cheeks.
Harry reached out a hand to gently wipe a tear away. "It'll be ok, somehow we'll all get by." He placed a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder trying to, in some small way, show how much he cared.
Draco sighed, it was an exhausted sound. "Your lot doesn't understand what it's like. It's not going to be ok." He felt his shoulder muscles relaxing under Harry's gentle touch and cursed his own weakness. "Thanks though, for thinking it could be." He said, trying to smile. He felt Harry move closer to him and his own body relaxed into the muscular arms that circled him. He tried to fight it, but it felt so right to be standing here, wrapped in the comforting arms of his arch nemesis. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against Harry's shoulder.