Looking at the Gryffindor table made Draco want to squeeze the pulp out of the orange he was holding.
First of all, there was Seamus. He was telling a story animatedly, speaking far too loud and knocking things over with his flailing arms. Then there was Neville, who deemed it appropriate to bring a huge potted mandrake, leaking droplets of stinksap and all, and place it right beside the plate of grilled cheese sandwiches. Then there was that horrid she-weasel, who was making him lose his appetite with the repeated view of her tongue she gave as she enthusiastically kissed her current boyfriend, a 7th year.
But worst of all definitely had to be Potter. He was surrounded by classless gryffindors, acting rowdy and uncouth, and still managed to stand out as the worst. His hair was so horrible Draco was surprised he wasn't embarrassed to go out in public. His shoes were so scuffed that the sole flapped noisily in the front whenever he walked. And his foul round glasses. The frames were made of plastic. The thought of this horrible muggle invention made Draco shudder.
Draco wanted to turn away, but he kept looking out of morbid fascination. Dear God, where did he get his clothes? Did he go shopping in a dumpster? Perhaps he learned the habit from Weasley, who probably visits the dump daily to scrounge up food for his oversized family.
Speaking of the Weasel, Draco shifted his eyes to watch him, disgusted, as he shovelled food into his mouth.
"I didn't know it was possible to ingest food and regurgitate it at the same time", he sniffed.
Next to him, Pansy looked up from her plate. "I know, it's simply dreadful dear."
"Why do they even allow these monkeys into this school? It's unfair that we're forced to watch their hideous behaviour" Draco whined.
Blaise nodded in agreement and Pansy patted Draco on the back sympathetically.
"Not everyone can afford to go to St-Claudine de Sailly" she said, referring to the French finishing school they went to every July for two weeks.
"That's no excuse," Draco grumbled.
"Well, where else are they supposed to learn manners if their unrefined parents don't teach them anything?"
Draco stared at Pansy for a minute.
"Yes! That's exactly what we need here. An etiquette class where student learn how to dress and conduct themselves properly".
Blaise and Pansy raised their eyebrows, surprised.
"So what are you proposing?" asked Blaise.
"Hogwarts should start a mini finishing school. It wouldn't have to take too much time away from other classes, it can even be just one hour a week."
"Who would be the teacher?" Pansy asked, eyes scanning the head table.
Draco could barely contain himself, he was so excited.
"Me! Of course, since naturally I'm the most aristocratic and well-mannered person in the school".
Pansy and Blaise glanced at each other and looked at him sceptically.
"You think you'd actually be allowed to lead a class?" Pansy pointed out. "Everyone will think you're just trying to brainwash people into joining the dark arts.
"Besides, who would want to be taught manners by a slytherin? You know what other houses think of us," Blaise commented.
Draco scowled at them. "We'll see about that", he said, excusing himself from the table. During lunch hour period, most teachers ate quickly in the Great Hall then retreated to their office to prepare for their afternoon classes. For most matters, Draco went to see Snape, but for this he knew he needed the credibility of another house. Thus, he found himself waiting outside Mcgonagall's office on the second floor, mentally rehearsing what he'd say.
He had a full speech prepared along with a list of several reasons why she should give him permission to host a class, but all of this turned out to be unnecessary.
As soon as she'd come round and he'd told her his idea, she agreed enthusiastically.
"I dare say the students could use some coaching in the manners department," she said, patting her bun thoughtfully. "Why, just this morning I had to apprehend at least 8 students for using foul language in my class. If things continue this way, imagine how badly it will reflect on the school. Our students need to know they're representing Hogwarts, the best magical school in all of Britain!" she exclaimed.
Draco nodded, "I wholeheartedly agree, Professor. I was hoping that-"
"Mr. Malfoy, I think you would make a wonderful teacher for this class".
Draco gasped, hardly believing his luck. "Really professor? Thank you!".
Mcgonagall smiled. "I would love to do it myself, but I'm already drowning in work this term between instructing 6 classes and taking over Headmaster duties whenever Dumbledore is away. You will report to me every week to go over the lesson plan, and the classes will take place on Friday afternoons in the Transfiguration classroom. I will give a sign up list to each house Head, and instruct them to advertise the class to students.
Draco was pleased, except with the last bit. "But professor! It should be mandatory instead of just allowing people to sign up! Who knows how many people will show up voluntarily!"
Mcgonagall spoke firmly, "I am already giving you enormous privileges by allowing you to conduct this class. This idea is just in the trial phase, I would like to test it out with a few students before implementing it on a larger scale."
Draco knew there was no use arguing, so he let it go. Bowing slightly, he thanked the Professor and made his way to his friends, excited to see the looks on their faces when he informed them of his new position.