Hey everyone! New story! I haven't chosen a good title yet… suggestions? Not Parenting Class, though, that would be stealing the great IcyPanther's story title. Please read this and give me your thoughts. Being mean is fine…no bad words though, that'd be a little too mean.
Dumbledore is alive! (He faked his death.)
Chapter One. Good News and Bad News.
On the first day of their seventh year, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny trudged up the path to the carriages.
"Cool! I can see the threstals now!" Ron said, awed.
"That's not good," Ginny swatted the back of his head, earning a satisfying 'OUCH, you woman!' "It means you've seen death!"
Ron was suddenly silent, but Ginny was too as she remembered her late brother.
"Well," Hermione said happily, "We do have great news! I'm Head Girl!"
"For you, maybe," Ron grumbled, "Not for the seventh years below us who were vying for that position. They'll never get it!"
"Hold on!" Harry said suddenly. "The Head Boy might be and Sixth-and-Half year!"
"Yeah, maybe," Hermione said thoughtfully. "But, Harry, they're not sixth-and-half years. They're seventh years, and we are eighth years."
"Cool!" Ron grinned, swinging his lanky arms as he climbed into an empty carriage. "First and only eighth years in Hogwarts!"
"Yay," Harry groaned. "More fame."
Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts Harry was nearly suffocated by the tide of reporters every time he Apparated one step out of Grimmauld Place. He now used the Invisibility Cloak every time he went out, leaving money at stores where he bought things. Either that, or he would ask Molly Weasley to buy things for him. However, that hadn't worked out so well as Molly was famous as well for defeating Bellatrix Lestrange. (A/N: Actually, I have no idea why Bellatrix died. If that was the case, there is more than one Killing Curse, yes?) So Harry had resorted to asking Bill or Charlie to help him. (Percy was still obsessed with work. He also got along well with Hermione, the two discussing the newest thing on the work list and how to do it better.)
"Hermione, coming?" Ginny asked, as she and Harry piled into the carriage.
"Sorry, no, the Heads have a carriage to themselves," Hermione replied. "See you at the feast, later!" She waved and started off to the front.
The Head's carriage was the same size as the others, with plush red velvet seats, a snack cabinet, and a small table. Hermione sat down and relaxed on the increased space.
Uh oh.
Someone else was entering the carriage, and it was someone Hermione was familiar with. Someone she had known since the first came to Hogwarts.
Someone who had bullied her.
Malfoy.
"Damn!" Hermione groaned.
"Wow," Malfoy smirked, "Did Miss Know-It-All just swear?"
"You call that swearing?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You're soft."
Malfoy bristled with indignation. "I am not 'soft'!"
"Really?" Hermione laughed. "What do you use to swear?"
"Uh… Malfoys do not swear! It is uncivilized!"
"It is not! It's a way of letting out your anger. Besides, I know some really good swear words. Want to hear them?"
"No!" Malfoy shuddered. "Primitive mudblood!"
"Uh, excuse me, you pureblood twat," Hermione snarled. "You and your 'smart ass'" Hermione made quotation marks with her hands, "friends have done worse things than swear!"
"Friends?" Malfoy scowled. "I do not have 'friends.'"
"You don't?" Hermione forgot to put up her you're-horrible attitude and looked genuinely concerned. "Crabbe and Goyle do count, don't they?"
Malfoy gave a bitter laugh. "Those two dim-witted numbskulls? I think not!"
"Oh. How about Pansy?"
"Pansy?" Malfoy roared with laughter. "Really? She just likes to drape herself all around me to give her a position of power."
"Power? How does being your girlfriend give you a position of power?"
"The Slytherins have their own system," Malfoy said shortly.
"You're king, then," Hermione guessed.
"Not anymore," Malfoy snarled.
"Then?" she asked, curious.
"Not telling."
"Tell!"
"Won't!"
"Will!"
"Won't!"
"Will!"
"Won't!"
"Won't!"
"Will…oh!" Malfoy swore.
"Guess who's a primitive pureblood?" Hermione smiled. "Now tell!"
"You're evil," Malfoy sulked. "You really are."
"Tell!"
"Fine!" Leaning closer, Malfoy whispered, "Servant."
Hermione began to laugh. And laugh some more.
"Hey!" Malfoy growled.
"How did the great Slytherin Prince become a servant?"
"Don't rub it in! How did the lowly Mudblood become Gryffindor Princess?"
"What?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Gryffindor Princess?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not the Gryffindor Princess! There are no ranks in Gryffindor!"
"Well, you are."
"Was that a compliment? Thanks!"
"You called me great! Thanks!"
The two glared at each other, and the argument was really beginning to heat up when the carriage stopped.
"I heard the Heads have their own dorm! Let's go!" Hermione grinned, forgetting her anger.
"Yay, sharing a dorm with the mudblood for a year," Malfoy muttered.
In the Great Hall Hermione sat beside Ron with Harry and Ginny on the other side. Ron was currently stuffing his face with cheesecake, while Hermione daintily ate her strawberry ice cream. Ginny and Harry were sharing a chocolate smoothie. Already, bets were going around on whether they would get married.
Dumbledore stood up.
"Hello, students! First years, your prefects will lead you to your new dorms. Eight years…"
"See, I was right!" Hermione whispered to Ron, grinning happily.
"Count on Hermione to get over excited on something this simple…" Ron mumbled. "Dean, can I have your chocolate-covered strawberries? YES!" He punched a fist in the air.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"…Please stay behind." Dumbledore sat down.
"Wonder what he wants us for?" Harry asked, kissing Ginny on the cheek.
"Eek, Harry, not here!" Ron said, scowling.
"You would rather in our dorm?" Harry said, grinning.
"No! Okay, here!"
After the majority of students had cleared out, Dumbledore stood up once again. "Hello, eighth years! May I have your attention please?" Immediate silence fell over the hall. "This year," Dumbledore said, smiling, "The eighth years would have a different schedule. I would like to thank Mr. Potter for this idea."
Harry groaned and hit his head on the table.
Dumbledore smiled. "Because the teachers all agree that this year's student all have achieved an Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Transfiguration, we have changed your schedules. You will have study periods during the normal Charms and Transfiguration lesson times in the Great Hall. Students will practice spells here and possibly make up some too. For Defense Against the Dark Arts, we have arranged a Parenting Class."
Whispers broke out in the hall.
"Tomorrow, please meet at ten o'clock in this hall with your wand and your wand only. Dismissed!" Dumbledore gave and energetic wave of his hand, then sat back down.
In the girls' dorm Parvati was talking energetically about the Parenting Class.
"I can't wait to dress up the little boys and girls!" she gushed. "I'm already thinking of a tutu-like pink skirt and tight fitting top for the girls, and a huge pink bow in their hair!"
"Not the bow, please, not the bow," Hermione interrupted. "Umbridge."
"Oh, yeah," Parvati said after a moment's thinking. "Okay, not the bow. It'd be so cute, though!"
"Yes!" Lavender squealed. "I'm thinking to a spaghetti strapped orange and white summer dress with a flower print!"
"Ooh! That's so cute!" Parvati agreed.
Hermione sighed wearily and smashed her head into her pillow as Parvati and Lavender moved on to talk about boy's clothes.
"So, Hermione?" Lavender asked suddenly.
"Wha—?" she asked blearily.
"What would you chose for the child?"
"Oh, dark jeans, high Converse sneakers, black shirt," Hermione sighed. "Done?"
"Ooh!" Parvati squealed. "I just thought of something!"
Leaving the two friends to chat themselves to death, Hermione fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
After breakfast Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood to the side of the Hall, watching the plates and food disappear and conversing about any random thing.
"Honestly!" Ron waved his long arms in a windmill, "Lying at the edge of the Lake! No wonder that Davies fell in!"
"It was really funny, though," Hermione said, laughing. "I think he was sleeping, then a huge wave washed up and he tumbled right into the water and on top of the Giant Squid!"
Harry agreed. "It was hilarious," he chuckled.
"Miss Granger, the tables are ready," said a new professor smiling at her from the Head Table.
"Thank you," Hermione said, smiling back. "Excuse me, but you are?"
"Oh, Professor Emmaline Scott. I arrived just this morning!"
Professor Scott was certainly a very pretty woman. She had wavy black hair to a point a few inches below her shoulder, large, brown eyes, and full lips.
"I'm twenty-two, and want to secure a position in Hogwarts as a job. I'm your Parenting professor," the young teacher said. "In case you were wondering, your tables are your meal tables."
The trio hurried to their usual spot as other students came pouring in.
Once everyone was seated Professor Scott began talking.
"Hello, eighth years," she said, smiling around. "My name is Emmaline Scott. Professor Emmaline, Professor Scott, Professor Emma, and even Emmaline are okay. I'm twenty-two and from Singapore, a place in Asia. I just arrived this morning, which explains why you did not see me yesterday. I rather much like Muggle inventions, which explains why I own a phone, iPad, computer, and earphones. I'm going to be your Parenting Class professor. Well, to begin, I shall explain this class to you.
"Parenting Class is a chance for you to learn what it's like to be a parent and how to control your child. You will be in groups of three which I will choose." Ignoring the disappointed groans, she continued. "All of your group members will be temporarily turned into a six-year-old for a month. They will only remember events up to this point of life, only they will not remember their previous family, but only behave like they did. It is the older ones' job to control and have fun with the child. Please do your best! Now, because of this project Hogwarts has had new rooms made for every group. Please come up one by one to receive information on the password and location of your new room. Oh, and for the Head Boy and Girl you are automatically in a group with Blaise Zabini. Your dorms will be shown later."
"It's okay, Hermione," Ron put a comforting arm on Hermione's shoulders, "You punched that git in third year, remember? You're tough! In a womanly way, of course," he added hastily.
"Thanks, Ron," Hermione sat up straighter, "I can do this."
"Yeah!" Ron agreed strongly.
After the speech Professor McGonagall led Blaise, Hermione, and Malfoy up to the seventh floor, where a very large portrait of all the founders of Hogwarts rested.
"I didn't know this existed!" Hermione said in awe.
"Salazar Slytherin," Blaise and Malfoy said in unison, gaping.
"Harry already saw him," Hermione dismissed the comment.
Two heads turned to stare at Hermione.
"What?" she defended. "In second year remember?"
"That's so unfair!" Malfoy scowled. "He is connected to the heir of Slytherin and saw Slytherin before the actual Slytherins could see him?"
"You three," McGonagall interrupted, "Decide on a password."
"Horse," Hermione suggested.
Blaise looked at her strangely. "Not 'lion?'"
"Nope," she answered.
"'Snake,'" Malfoy said.
"Sorry, mate, horse it is," Blaise smirked.
"Why?" Malfoy groaned.
"Because they're awesome," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Duh."
" 'Snake' is kinda unfair to Hermione," Blaise said.
"Very fair, Mr. Zabini," Professor McGonagall said approvingly. "Ten points to Slytherin."
Blaise gave Draco a victorious smirk.
"Horse," Hermione announced.
"Correct," Godric Gryffindor smiled, and the portrait swung open.
The common room was a blend of Slytherin and Gryffindor colors. Gold and silver were less accented.
Behind the fireplace and sofas were two sweeping staircases on either side, with a hallway in the middle connecting them both. The rails were made out of wood, and so was the loft in between them. On one staircase was a green carpet, and the other a red. Directly after the staircases were two different rooms, one for Hermione and one for Malfoy.
On the common room floor was Blaise's room under of the green-carpeted grand staircase. Under Hermione's staircase was a door leading to a study room.
Hermione walked into her room and gasped. On one side was a huge kind size four-poster bed. Beside that was a polished wood bedside table. A vanity was against the wall, and a big walk-in closet was inside the wall. Thinking back to the layout of the dorm, Hermione realized Malfoy's closet was right beside hers in the wall. If the wall on her right was knocked down, they would share a closet.
Suddenly, she heard singing, and began to giggle softly. It was Malfoy, who was singing a muggle song named Beauty and A Beat.
It was rather surprising, actually, that he knew a Muggle song.
"'Cause all I need
Is a beauty and a beat
Who can make my life complete"
He did have a wonderful voice, Hermione mused. Wait, this was Malfoy. Nothing he did or had was wonderful.
Hermione went across the loft to his room, and knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" Malfoy shouted.
"The mudblood you despise!" she shouted back.
There was a moment's silence, then he opened the door a fraction.
"What do you want?" he snarled.
"You're not being very nice," she sighed. "To see your room, of course!"
Hermione heard him mutter, "Bossy pants," and remarked, "Not being civilized, are you?"
He swore.
"Oh, look at that primitive blonde-haired monkey!" she said in a mock-adoring voice.
He cursed.
"Really, what got into your pants this morning?"
"You don't want to know," Malfoy mumbled.
"Why?"
"Uh-uh-be-because-erm…"
"You're stuttering," Hermione pointed out. "Hold on. Do you have a fever?" She pressed her hand to his forehead. "Malfoys don't stutter."
"No, they don't," he agreed softly, turning slightly red as he brushed her hand off. "I don't have a fever! Get out!" Malfoy said with sudden vehemence.
"I'm sorry," she said, alarmed. "What's with the mood swings? You're nineteen now, correct?"
"Yes! Out!"
"Sorry, sorry," she snapped, striding to the door. "Oh, yes, and we have a prefect meeting at nine."
"Okay! See you then! Out!"
"Fine! Calm down! Sheesh…" Hermione slammed the door shut. "Can't wait for the year," she said sarcastically. "You okay, Zabini?" she called downstairs.
"Blaise. Yeah, I'm fine. You, Hermione?" came the answering shout.
Hermione was rather surprised at the niceness of this Slytherin, but nonetheless replied, "I'm fantastic! Bloody Malfoy bugging me, that's all."
A loud chuckle issued from somewhere below her, then the Italian walked out from his room.
"Give him a chance," he advised.
"What, after the last seven years?" Hermione was astounded.
"Yes. He's changed, now that his father is in Azkaban and Voldemort is gone."
"Okay," said Hermione doubtfully. "I'll try, Blaise! See you tomorrow!"
"You too, Hermione."
So? How was it? I think that's the longest chapter I've written ever! Please review or I won't continue…I will, just for the fun of writing. But please, do review! A word is enough!
Drama will enfold in the next chapter, though it will be short, as I want to finish it today.
Also, please tell me what all the ratings mean. I have no idea!
