Year Two

The first week of classes were always interesting to Antonin. They usually gave him an inkling as to how the rest of the year would go by. As of now? Despondency.

If Dumbledore had hired someone like Antonin while he was still here, he would obviously question the logic behind it, but accept the elder wizard's decision because it was precisely the same thing that he himself had gone through.

But what in Merlin's name possessed this old coot to hire Gilderoy 'bloody' Lockhart…

Suspected Death Eaters? Questionable. Narcissistic, Idiotic, Con Artists? No. He put his foot down on that one.

Antonin knew what to expect from his own kind. It was how he had lasted so long with the surly Potion's Master. Granted, he didn't particularly like the man, and he especially did not trust him, but he could work with him. Hell, he would work with his racist, sociopathic ex-colleagues again. But all he wanted to do with this moron was throttle him until he stopped rambling about his many misadventures and how he could better each professors subject.

I swear if he comes over here…

"Professor Dolohov! You've been unusually quiet! What do you think about adding the riots of the Fantastical Fairies to your curriculum? I'm sure your students could benefit-"

Antonin shot the man a murderous glare before growling out, "My students will benefit from facts not fairytales, professor." He spat the blond's newfound title out and the meeting room when deathly silent. Good, Antonin thought darkly. It needed it.

"Ah yes…" The man rung his hands nervously under the dark wizard's look before averting himself away. "Moving on!"

What a tosser… Antonin internally groaned that the meeting was still being corralled by this idiot instead of the Headmaster who was merely looking on in amusement. Of course he would find this situation hilarious.

At least Lockhart would most likely steer clear of the theory Professor from now on. Unless he truly doesn't possess a single brain cell like McGonagall had previously suggested upon first meeting.

Although, most of the professors gave lead way to the solemn man anyways. The only ones who would openly converse with him were Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, and Flitwick on occasion. Most of the others merely tolerated his presence. But it did seem to appear he'd gotten on a few good sides with his comment to Lockhart…

Both Sprout and Sinistra had sent him sympathetic looks at his effort to shut the man up; even Snape looked as though he had wished Antonin's words had permanently silenced the flashy man.

Pity it didn't work.

Pity he couldn't just kill the man and be rid of him.

But he was supposed to be "reformed" or whatever the hell that implied. And he did owe Dumbledore. For a lot really. So, biting back the scathing remarks held on the tip of his tongue, he suffered through the rest of the staff meeting and the bloody idiot it included; silently.

When it was finally over, he actually sighed in audible relief, earning an amused glance from the professor on his left, Vector, who looked ready to bolt as well. He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment before standing to leave. But as he walked out the door, the smiling witch from earlier had caught up with him.

"I'm surprised Albus took so long to dismiss us this time. I think he purposely wanted Lockhart to torture us but for what reason, I'm not quite sure." Antonin paused slightly, looking down at the shorter woman. Vector had only conversed on occasion with him, but less than any of the others he usually spoke with. He had always figured she was just intimidated by him like all the others. What brought this on now?

"It's not very surprising at all," he said hesitantly, before finishing more confidently, "the old's man been senile for a while now." Vector exploded into laughter at his words.

"I always knew you secretly had a sense of humor, Antonin." The man in question raised an eyebrow but said nothing as they continued walking the halls. Vector would occasionally make more small talk which caused slight discomfort for Antonin. He wasn't that good at conversing with others, not so freely anyways. He had always been a quiet, private man.

It wasn't until they heard the raised voices of children that he perked up. Students were supposed to be in bed at this hour. The pair rounded a corner and he spotted three figures arguing in the middle of the hallway outside Gryffindor Tower.

"I'll handle this," he muttered to Vector and with a nod and another strange smile, she walked off, leaving him to deal with Potter, Weasley, and Miss Granger.

The redhead appeared to be making a point with Potter agreeing with him while Miss Granger shook her head stubbornly. As he neared them, he overheard a bit of what they were discussing,

"Seriously 'Mione, first my mum, now you? Lockhart's a total crock!"

"He is not! He's brilliant!"

"I hate to agree with Ron, but he really isn't that talented Hermione. Were you even listening to him in class today? He had no idea what-"

"That's because you didn't word the question right Harry! He was just confused."

Antonin changed his mind. Maybe he really would murder that man. Tonight, preferably. But first, he had to deal with the trio that seemed to have this penchant for getting into trouble.

"Perhaps," he started, his low, deep voice instantly gaining the three's attention, "You can have this conversation inside your common room instead of the hallway?"

"Oh! Of course, sorry sir, we were just going," Miss Granger started, turning to give the password to the portrait but not before Weasley decided to open his mouth again.

"Oi! Professor, what do you think of Lockhart?" The brunette spun around so quickly that Antonin worried she may get whiplash from it.

"Ronald! That is incredibly rude-"

"But he works with him, so he'll definitely have an opinion-"

"Professor Lockhart is Professor Dolohov's colleague, and I'm sure they mutually respect each other's abilities," as she started on her tangent, Antonin could hardly resist scoffing at her mention of 'respect'. She paused and looked up at him, confusion seared into her eyes.

"S-Sir?" She asked tentatively. Antonin should have just sent the three to bed and not engaged in their childishness. But… something about the way she had defended Lockhart and praised him… It only served to raise his ire. And so he ended up speaking the truth,

"Lockhart is indeed impressive in his ability to produce nonsense and enable complete fools to believe in the drabble."

It certainly made him feel better to just get it out in the open, but Miss Granger's tiny face dropping did not. Her eyes that had always been so expressive closed off and her mouth tightened into a straight line while her idiot friends did some obnoxious dance of "I told you so's." He instantly regretted his honesty, but he wouldn't apologize for it.

She needed to know the truth and come to believe it on her own terms.

And she would. Lockhart was only as good an actor as his audience believed him to be. Eventually the students would put two and two together. So, he sent the Gryffindor's to bed without docking points and left to return to his own chambers.

He was only doing Hermione Granger a favor, he rationalized. Men like sparkling, shiny Lockhart were as big of deceivers as the dark, charismatic men who grew to become Dark Lords. She was better off learning the disappointment of it than remaining ignorant to the fact.

Or so he told himself.

Mudblood…

What Draco Malfoy had called her had been so serious, so insulting, that Ron had instantly tried to hex him instead of just jeering back. Poor thing had forgotten that his wand was broken though and the curse rebounded and hit him instead. Now the three of them, Hermione, Ron, and Harry, were sitting inside of Hagrid's hut, watching Ron belch up slugs over and over again.

It was quite disgusting, but Hermione refrained from commenting this once because he was only in this situation because he had been trying to defend her honor. Or something like that. Hermione didn't completely understand why the word had such a negative connotation.

Well… She knew it didn't sound friendly. And the way Malfoy had spat it out at her sort of told her it was aimed as a slur. Plus, the word itself was pretty self-explanatory. Mudblood – dirty blood.

He was talking about the fact she was Muggleborn and that her parents were Muggles. It wasn't the same as him who came from wizarding parents; a pureblood. But Hermione didn't understand how that made her any less a witch than he as a wizard. She got better grades than him, so surely that had to count for something?

It just confused her.

Why be prejudiced about something she couldn't even control? If he had just called her a know-it-all, then that would have been that. If he had called her any other kind of derogatory term, she could even understand that. But Mudblood…? She couldn't very well do anything about that, now could she?

It just goes to show that some didn't believe she belonged here; that she was nothing better than a Muggle with a wand. But she did belong… didn't she? Ron and Harry certainly thought so and even Hagrid had told her to ignore them, but it was hard when they were raised to think like this… It meant that adults thought like this too.

Draco's father certainly did. Hermione didn't miss the way he mentioned her parents like they were something beneath him; like she was beneath him. At first, Hermione had just thought that it was the aristocratic philosophy, but now she knew better. It was because of her blood and only her blood. They just didn't think she belonged…

Hermione sighed as she watched Hagrid empty Ron's slug bucket outside before quickly handing it back to him before he got giant slugs on the hut's floor. That was when Harry finally spoke up and asked,

"How long is this going to last?" Hagrid scratched his beard before admitting,

"Not entirely sure 'bout the specifics, but I did send a quick message to a professor. He should be 'ere soon and sort Ron out." Hermione wanted to cry at hearing that. The whole reason they had come to Hagrid was so that Ron didn't get in any trouble for trying to hex Malfoy. The only professor's he could have asked that could help would most definitely take House points and possibly even give him detention. And he had only been defending her…

Hagrid set to making tea when the three sharp knocks sounded on the door of the hut. Lumbering away from the stove, the giant man opened the door with a bright smile and boomed out,

"Thanks for coming on short notice Professor. But the boy can't stop." Hermione looked up as Hagrid went back to the whistling kettle and met the dark brown eyes of Professor Dolohov. He seemed almost out of place in the scenery of the home, but he didn't appear bothered by it as he closed the door and walked over to where the trio sat.

She immediately noticed that the only free spots were Hagrid's chair and the spot on the couch next to Hermione. She tensed slightly as the man lowered himself next to her. It wasn't that she was frightened of the professor, but his words from the first week of term still echoed in her mind. Only fools believed Lockhart's drabble. He hadn't exactly called her such… But he might as well have.

She just wanted the man's respect…

Her eyes wandered over to him, and she saw him staring at Ron with a blank expression before she watched his eyes glance over at her and heard his deep voice address her,

"What exactly is the problem with Mr. Weasley?" A brief silence fell over the room before the sound of Ron retching and the horrid, squishy sound of the slug flopping into the bucket rang out.

Hermione winced before answering, "That."

She heard the older man sigh before he begrudgingly asked, "How did it happen?"

"His wand was broken before term started, sir. It backfired when he tried to… hex someone." Harry ended up answering instead because Hermione couldn't bring herself to admit that Ron had tried to attack a fellow student. She didn't know how Professor Dolohov would react to that.

"Let me see it." Ron quickly dug his wand out of his pocket and shoved it into his professor's waiting hand. He inspected it silently, turning it between his fingers before holding it out towards Hermione.

"Hold this for me, Miss Granger." She did as he instructed and held the wand steadily. She watched her professor pull his own wand out and Hermione became entranced by it. It looked to be about thirteen inches and made of willow. It was a dark color but had lighter intricate symbols and lines across it, especially on the handle. It fit him, she decided.

He flicked his wand carefully and muttered some spell under his breath before the trio watched the tape around Ron's wand turn into wood and merge itself with the two separate pieces. Hermione's eyes widened and she saw the boys' jaws drop before Ron threw up another slug.

"That's… brilliant, professor…" Hermione managed to say, before handing him the wand back. He gave her a strange look before twirling the wand around his fingers again and then handing it back to Ron.

"It isn't fixed, I've only transfigured the tape into the matching wood, but it should hold you for the rest of term. I do recommend getting a new wand soon though." Ron nodded enthusiastically while Harry still stared at the man in appreciation.

"Now," he started, a concerning glint in his eyes, "Open your mouth."

Ron's jaw seemed to lock in place as he shook his head furiously, gesturing to the bucket and the slugs already inside of it. But the professor only watched him with disinterest, his wand raising to point straight at Ron's face. Hermione held her breath, wondering what would happen.

Ron finally relented and opened his mouth as wide as possible. Another unheard muttering and a flash of blue light filled the room. Everyone stared at Ron as he appeared to dry heave some more before settling down and meeting everyone's eye with a surprised expression.

"It… feels like it's still there. But there just aren't anymore slugs coming up," he finally looked up at his professor in complete bewilderment. Hermione could only stare at the man as well. This type of magic was… amazing. She caught the professor's eye and he must have noticed the question in her gaze because he explained,

"A stasis charm. It will hold the spell until it fades away on its own." The trio nodded slowly in sync while Hagrid chose that moment to trump over and hand them all cups of steaming tea and set a plate of what looked to be scones on the table. Hermione went to reach for one but she saw Professor Dolohov purposely lift his free arm and put it along the top of the couch, catching her eye in the process.

He gave a slight shake of his head before inclining it towards Ron who had just bitten into the bread. The redhead made a face of disgust before discreetly slipping the scone to Fang who was lying on the floor by his feet. Hermione looked back up to the older wizard who held a trace of a smile on his face as he sipped his tea.

He really is kind…

Hagrid sat back down and started telling them a few stories about the different mythical creatures he'd encountered or, well, wanted to encounter. As he was describing a particular encounter he had with a mermaid and a unicorn, Hermione noticed Professor Dolohov shake his head in disbelief.

"Eh now! Don't give 'e that look, Antonin. I remember when you was just a lad 'ere as well. You were just a wee second year like these three and became dead set on seeing yourself a unicorn." Hermione had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggles. She couldn't picture a young Professor Dolohov but she imagined him to be just as stoic as he is now and that alone was funny. A serious little boy on the search for a majestic unicorn.

"And I remember you cried when I told you that unicorns only liked pure females." Harry and Ron finally burst out laughing at that statement but Hermione turned to look up at her professor who actually seemed to be smiling in that moment. It was hard to tell since his jaw was covered in thick stubble, but his lips did appear to be quirked.

"After that I convinced a girl in my year to come down to the edge of the forest with me after hours so that I could properly see one." Hagrid guffawed loudly at their professor's statement while Hermione continued to smile at him before asking,

"Did you, professor?"

His eyes flicked down to her and the slight smile on his face grew a little larger, "Of course."

"Slytherins," Hagrid said, still suffering from a few hiccups of laughter, "Never met a more resourceful or determined lot."

Then, it was time to go. It was a weekday so curfew was earlier than it normally was. Professor Dolohov had offered to escort the trio back up to the castle in case they didn't make it to the portrait in time. Secretly, Hermione bet it was just because of their penchant for wandering when they shouldn't be. And while Ron and Harry said their goodbyes to Hagrid, Hermione walked outside with the professor.

"Sir?" she asked as he started down the path back up to the castle.

"They'll catch up, Miss Granger," he explained without turning around. Hermione looked back to the hut before turning and speeding up a bit to catch up with her professor. When they finally reached the entrance and stepped into the immediate warmth of the castle, she heard a curious low voice ask her,

"Who did Weasley attempt to hex?" Her eyes immediately fell to her shoes as she shuffled slightly, not wanting to explain what had happened earlier on the Quidditch pitch. But she remembered her conversation with Professor Dolohov last year… Refrain from lying at least to me…

"Malfoy, sir…" She said quietly, secretly hoping he hadn't heard. But, of course, he had.

"Why is that?" Hermione's eyes lifted slightly and she saw that the professor wasn't even looking at her like many of the other teachers' would when interrogating a student. His gaze was out the window but she knew he was still listening. And for some reason, it made it easier to tell him.

"He insulted me, sir. He called me a…" But her voice paused, almost as though she herself were afraid to say the word. But fear of a word only increases fear of the thing itself, she knew that. So then why couldn't she just say it? Maybe it was just because she didn't want to get Ron in any trouble.

But as it turns out, she didn't have to say it. Professor Dolohov let out a deep sigh before turning to look at her fully, "I can only guess what Mr. Malfoy said to you, Miss Granger. But I can assure you that it does not have any standing on your status as a witch."

She blinked in surprise before he looked her deep in the eye and softly uttered, "You belong here."

Hermione could only nod, trying to stave off the tears she felt prickling at her eyes. How did he know exactly what she wanted to hear? Why did he have to be so kind? Why did he also have to be so cruel? One moment implying she was foolish and the next telling her exactly what she needed to hear…

But she still respected him. He was an amazing wizard after all.

And he was also an amazing man.

The Chamber of Secrets…

Antonin mused over the meaning of it. The Dark Lord had mentioned it before; he had been the one to open it all those years ago when he was a student and killed the girl that currently haunted the first floor girl's bathroom. Moaning Myrtle, was it? But the Dark Lord was gone… How could the Chamber be opened without his presence?

Unless… No. Antonin shook his head angrily. That maniac was gone and he wouldn't be coming back any time soon. He can't… He just can't…

But now Hogwarts had bigger problems. Something was petrifying Muggleborn students again. He was on his way to investigate the third attack so far. All professors were asked to try to contribute ideas of how to solve the problem of how the incidents were occurring as well as cure the students themselves.

Unfortunately, it involved him working closely with Snape, but he would do so if it meant the end of this nonsense. The students were beginning to become insufferable with all their bloody questions and concerns.

As he walked to the infirmary, he continued to ponder who or what could've opened the chamber. At first, he had suspected Snape, but upon remembering that he was only a half-blood, switched his suspicions to Lucius' son. The aristocrat knew about the chamber just as much as he had.

But after witnessing the adorable stunt of Miss Granger stealing from Snape's lab to make Polyjuice potion and the trio's attempt to gain information, he realized it couldn't be the Malfoy boy. He wasn't a Parseltongue, to the best of his knowledge. And even though Potter had been seen speaking in the snake language, Antonin found it just a bit too convenient.

He wasn't on the boy's side, but he did find it odd to say the least.

But that didn't leave Antonin with much options then. Most of the Slytherin's were too daft, weak, or self-centered to concern themselves with it. And while they did have their prejudices against Muggleborn students, he doubted any of them would purposely let loose someone or something that could possibly kill their fellow students.

Well, except Malfoy. But he had already been ruled out.

Racking his brain, Antonin entered the infirmary and saw Pomfrey fretting over what appeared to be the two newest victims of petrification. The incident had occurred earlier in the evening so Dumbledore and McGonagall must have already been through. It was a late hour, he realized. But then again, he had been grading and lost track of time. Not that he slept much anyways.

When the Mediwitch scurried back into her office, Antonin walked along the foot of the hospital beds the four students were in. Creevy, Finch-Fletchley, Clearwater, Granger…

Granger?!

Antonin heard what sounded like a strangled noise come from the back of his own throat as he stopped at the edge of the final hospital bed. He turned on his heel and gripped the bars of the frame so tightly his knuckles were stark white. A look of pure horror spread across his face.

It was her, he knew that hair like the back of his own hand. Why did he even know that? Bloody hell, Dolohov, now wasn't the time to get philosophical. She was frozen, just damned stone at the moment. He released the bed frame and went to the side, facing her motionless body.

Why… Why had this happened to her? Why couldn't it had been anybody but her?

She was too little, too innocent. He had told her only months ago that she belonged in this world, and now she was attacked just for having Muggle parents. What if she had died? Merlin… He couldn't even think about that. It just made him sick to his stomach.

She didn't deserve this, gods… She didn't deserve this! Antonin dropped to his knees at her bedside, his hand not even hesitating before running through her wild curls. "Too soft," he muttered. She was too soft. Why had this happened? Why her?

But beneath the surface of sadness and confusion, there was anger. He was furious, murderous really. He wanted to find who or what had done this to her and crush it, destroy it. How dare they… How dare they do this to this little witch… to his little witch…

He had no right to claim her, some part of him understood that. But he cared for her, had been trying to help her in the best ways that he could. And she was one of the spare few who weren't intimidated by him. She respected him. She trusted him. And he cared, Merlin he cared. It was new, different, and he didn't know what to do about it, but it didn't stop him from caring. She was important, loathe as he was to admit it. He couldn't remember when it happened, but Hermione Granger had become important to him, Antonin Dolohov.

Why else would he have this strong of a reaction to something like this?

He continued to run his hand through her hair, watching her with sorrowful eyes. Before he knew it, he was speaking in a foreign, soft tone; back in his native tongue of Russian, "I swear I'll get you out of this. I'll help you wake up. I won't leave you like this. It'll be okay, I promise it will be." His free hand took one of her frozen ones, when he felt something stuck inside of it.

It was a piece of parchment, detailing a mythical creature; a Basilisk… Antonin's eyes widened. That was it! The creature hidden in the chamber had to be a Basilisk. It made sense, at the very least. And explained the petrification of these students as well as the death of Myrtle.

Of course the Dark Lord's secret beast would be a bloody snake.

Antonin leaned forward, pressing his lips to her cold forehead. Brilliant, brilliant girl. Putting the page back into her hand, he touched her curls one last time before heading out to the greenhouse. Mandrakes roots were the main ingredient to curing Basilisk petrification. After that, he'd head down to the dungeons. It might take a few days, but he would make the cure.

And she would be alright…

She would have to be.

She was awake.

Hermione left the Great Hall with a huge smile on her face. She had been unpetrified and immediately went to go find Harry and Ron. They were so glad to see that she had been alright as well that they had done some sort of group hug in the middle of the tables.

Then they had sat for dinner and everyone was talking a million miles per hour. She found herself a little overwhelmed at one point and looked up to the staff table as a distraction.

After she had woken up, Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster had told her how most of the professors had worked tirelessly to cure all the students effected by the Basilisk. But her Head of House had looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment before explaining to her that the only reason they had known it had been a Basilisk was because of Professor Dolohov.

She admitted to her student that they had immediately suspected the man of being the one who had opened the Chamber. But Professor Dumbledore immediately settled her worried look with his addition that they had quickly ceased that train of thought because of his determination to find a cure.

"But… why even suspect Professor Dolohov in the first place?" She had asked. Professor McGonagall had pursed her lips for a moment before answering,

"How much do you know about him, Miss Granger?"

"Just rumors," and it was the truth. She only knew rumors about him and her own experiences with him. And they were entirely different views.

Her Professor exhaled before explaining to her that Professor Dolohov had been like most Slytherins when he had been a student and held a great deal of disdain and hatred towards Muggles and Muggleborns. And as such, they thought perhaps he had been responsible for the attacks after he had suddenly come forward with knowledge of the beast that had harmed the students in the first place.

"But Minerva, you forget that he is no longer a boy and holds no regard for those ideals any longer," Professor Dumbledore had contributed. "And his efforts to cure the students immediately removed him from suspicion."

As it turned out, Ron's younger sister, Ginny, had been seduced by some magical book and had been the one to open the Chamber. There wouldn't be any action taken against her because she hadn't consciously known what she was doing, but the book had been destroyed; by Harry, of course.

And now, staring up at the group of professors, she couldn't find the one that she actually wanted to see. Professor Dolohov wasn't in his usual spot next to Professor McGonagall. He wasn't there at all. Frowning, Hermione told herself that she had to go see him before curfew. She had to thank him. If he hadn't realized what creature had petrified her and the others, she still would've been nothing more than stone.

On her way to his classroom, Hermione thought hard about what she would say to her professor. Learning that he had despised Muggleborns when he was in school was a tough truth to swallow for Hermione. Especially after he had been so kind to her after the whole Ron/slug debacle.

But he had worked tirelessly to find a way to help his students and so that also had to account for something. She just wanted to hear it from him. She was tired of hearing rumors that he was evil and that he couldn't be trusted. Not after everything she had experienced with him.

So, she stood outside his classroom door and summoned that Gryffindor courage everyone in her house went on about and knocked. Shortly after she did, the door flicked open and she heard the familiar tones of her professor say, "Enter."

She walked in and spotted the man at his usual spot behind his desk. He looked to be grading papers, his usually slicked back hair had a few strands falling into his face. Just the sight of him brought a small smile to Hermione's face. He always looked so cool and composed but it was moments like this where he looked much more natural.

His dark eyes flicked up to meet her waiting gaze and a brief look of surprise crossed his face before he sat up straighter and addressed her, "What can I help you with Miss Granger?"

She shook her head slightly before answering, "I don't need any help, sir. I just wanted to thank you for saving me."

His brows furrowed, "I didn't save you Miss Granger."

"Oh, well, I know technically you didn't, but who knows how long I would've been petrified if you hadn't realized that I had been attacked by a Basilisk."

"You realized it had been a Basilisk." At her confusion, he continued, "The paper that was in your hand. I only found it and confirmed your theory."

"Still… Thank you, Professor." He nodded slightly before returning to his papers.

"If that's all."

Hermione paused for a second. Did she really want to know? Yes… She really did. "Actually… I had a question, sir." She saw him stifle slightly before he stood from his desk. He stepped to the front of it and leaned against it, crossing his arms as he did so.

"And?"

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "Do you hate Muggleborns?" Whatever Professor Dolohov had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. His hand went to his mouth and he seemed to hunch over for a moment. His body racked slightly and at first Hermione thought he was hurt. It was only after hearing a few snorts and sniffles of amusement that she realized he was laughing!

"Wha-?" She started, before her professor held up a hand and stopped her. She heard a rumble that might have been him chuckling before he met her gaze once again, mirth shining through his dark eyes.

"No, Miss Granger, I would have thought that was obvious." Hermione felt herself flush in embarrassment. "It's why I have a zero policy for insulting behavior in my classroom. Because I know how Slytherins can be."

"But… You were once a Slytherin, right?"

He nodded, "I was. And I'll admit that I had no fond feelings towards Muggles in my youth, but Muggleborns, despite their heritage, were still magical beings. And they belonged in the magical world."

It made sense, she thought. But… Did he still hate Muggles now? Almost as though sensing her question, Professor Dolohov shook his head before saying, "No, Miss Granger. I do not still harbor negative feelings towards Muggles. I do not trust them, but I can say the same for many witches and wizards as well."

"I'm sorry, sir… I didn't mean to, well, interrogate you like this." He waved his hand in an air of nonchalance,

"It's fine. You didn't mean it to be malicious, merely… curious?" He asked, and she nodded her head fervently. "Then that's settled. Now, run along, I'd hate to take points if you were caught after hours."

She smiled brightly, "Of course, sir. Thank you again." And as she walked past the various desks to leave his classroom, she heard his voice again before she reached the door, causing her to turn half around.

"Your welcome, Miss Granger. And I am… pleased to see that you are alright."

Did her heart just skip a beat?

I think it did…