Disclaimer: I don't own shit, J.K. Rowling, Goddess that she is, owns every bit. This adaptation is just for entertainment purposes! Thank you.
AN: I apologize for the extra-long notes in the first chapter. Sometimes these things are just necessary lol. Like I said before, I have dubbed my story as slightly Alternate Universe (AU), as well as Non-canon to save my ass with some of you sticklers! This is a story I have made up for the delight and wonderment of us all! With creative licensure, I can basically make the story go however I want! So relax about it and enjoy.
Also, I want to give a huge thanks to all of my reviewers! They truly do keep me going, even the healthy criticism. Sorry for getting so amped up in the first chapter, I guess I was a bit sad that my original plan wasn't the best idea, BUT I must say, I am extremely happy with the turn the story will take now. I have loads of interesting goodies for you all, so stay tuned. It's started out perhaps a bit slow, but I'm building it up so don't you fret. Let's get on with it, then.
Teacher's Pet
Chapter Two
Draco and Hermione made their way up to the old castle in silence for the most part. They'd charmed all of their luggage and belongings to fit into their pockets so they could walk with ease. It wasn't long until the two came face to face with the huge, oak front doors. Hermione stopped abruptly and gazed up to admire how sturdy and glorious they were in the waning sunshine. They were so large, towering way above them, and were gorgeous and grainy in the luster of the setting sky. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, so much so she pawed her palm over the erratic organ, gripping at her white shirt. Why was she so nervous? Where was her usually ever-so prominent Gryffindor courage? What was she afraid of?
Draco was peering over at the witch with slight amusement and a bit of concern. "Granger, are… are you alright?" he asked, turning and leaning a little closer to her. She hadn't taken her eyes off of the main doors.
"…Quite." She said finally and seemed to snap out of her apprehensive trance. Her eyes shifted to Draco, her hand still over her heart, and he gave her a quizzical look. Hermione didn't exactly want to give him an explanation, for she wasn't sure if she even knew why she was holding herself back from entering. "Let's go, I'm ready." She conveyed, and he nodded. 'As ready as I'll ever be.'
He went first and opened the door. The oaken appendage gave a mighty creak as it bellowed outward and Draco gestured politely for her to go in. Impressed at his chivalry but choosing only to give him a quiet "Thank you." She made her way inside and he followed suite, closing the door behind them. There, as they entered the Entrance Hall, was a greyish brown tabby cat with piercing green eyes waiting patiently on the Grand Staircase in front of them. At the sight of them its long tail delicately whipped around in anticipation and if you listened hard enough, you could hear a soft purring emanating from the feline.
Hermione and Draco stopped just short of the staircase and gave the tabby knowing looks. "Hello, Headmistress." Hermione greeted.
"Headmistress," Draco acknowledged, giving a light bow and feeling a little silly that he was bowing to a cat despite knowing very well who she was. A small smile seemed to grace the feline's mouth before she quickly morphed back into her original, human form. Minerva McGonagall, fully garbed in long, lustrous, fancy emerald-colored robes, tipped her hat in salutation.
"Welcome, my new and esteemed Professors," she began in her thick Scottish accent. "It is a great honor to have you both back at what you will now call, and I'm sure have always thought of as home."
Hermione pushed away the last of her wavering anxiety and stated somewhat sarcastically, "It certainly is a pleasure." She only slightly glared over in Malfoys direction as his smirk widely grew. McGonagall quirked an eyebrow at her bland enthusiasm but held a strong smile.
"Ah, yes, Miss Granger, I suppose you're a bit perturbed at my lack of, I'm sure you would call vital details, but I hope you can forgive this old cat and that the news materialized itself to you gently." Ignoring Hermione's scoff of disapproval and Draco's small snort of mirth, she beckoned them both to follow her up the stairs to the Headmaster's Tower. Despite previously having the desire to throttle the elderly woman with some choice words Hermione sighed and let the feeling go, understanding it was really no use and there was nothing she could actually do to make the situation better besides accepting it all for what it was.
After McGonagall said the password to the Gargoyle statue, which was "sapiens cattus" meaning "wise cat" in Latin, they entered the massive, oval-shaped office. The new professors gazed with curiosity around the room as they walked, looking at old artifacts and trinkets and noticing the new portraits of the previous Headmasters, Dumbledore and Snape, that adorned the wall. Dumbledore was peacefully snoozing away and Snape sat beside a cauldron, his face twisted in his familiar expression of displeasure. McGonagall took her seat behind the clawed-foot desk and Hermione and Draco sat opposite of her on two sturdy wooden chairs. Noticing the newcomers, Dumbledore awakened and stared with twinkling eyes at the alumni, delighted to see them.
Hermione grabbed the length of her hair and pulled it all out of her face and back behind her neck and at this moment, Draco glanced over at her and a wave of guilt washed over him as he saw the outcome of a moment he could never forget. The scar of the word, 'mudblood' had been etched gruesomely into her forearm by none other than his nefarious aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. He inwardly thanked the fact that Molly Weasley killed her in the Battle of Hogwarts. That woman was insane and he wasn't proud to have been related to her. He again found himself admiring Hermione, this time for having enough confidence to wear a short sleeved shirt.
Somewhere along the way, he had come to the conclusion that he needn't apologize to her for his past-actions. He figured he had redeemed himself enough by stepping into the light side, and thought that him being sorry about it was understood, not having to be spoken out loud, yet here and now he felt the shame rise up in his belly and constrict his throat. He felt so nauseated and wondered if she could feel the ignominy rolling off of him in waves. Oh, how she had suffered by his fault, literally and associatively. Hermione didn't look at him, but she unconsciously began rubbing her arm against the fabric of her blue-jeans.
"Well, let's start with relaying the duties of the Heads of the Houses, although I am sure you both are aware what they are already. We might as well skim them over." At this McGonagall handed them each a piece of parchment with a list of responsibilities. "Each Head of House is in charge of the reinforcement of House and school rules, as well as giving their students important information pertaining to school events, functions among other criteria, as well as answering any questions they may have and helping with concerning matters. Additionally, you will be held responsible for any instances of punishment, whether the conviction be slight or severe. Furthermore, you must respond to any emergency within the House you are accountable for. Any questions so far?" the older witch finished primly.
Hermione and Draco both shook their heads.
"Excellent, well that basically concludes what you'll be doing as the Heads. Respectively, Miss Granger you are officially the Head of Gryffindor House, and Mr. Malfoy you are hereby officially the Head of Slytherin."
The new House Heads gave their thanks to the Headmistress. It was an honor and a privilege to be chosen as the Head of a House, and in this case, risky for they were both new teachers this year with no experience except for attending the school for half of their lives. It was truly a test of great capability.
"Now, I expect you have received my letters with the curriculum for each of your classes outlined?" as they nodded she continued. "I expect you to follow these outlines as they are, but feel free to add in bits of knowledge you'd like to devise and circulate. Miss Granger, your classes will now be permitted to learn a new segment added to the text books summarizing the Battle of Hogwarts. Is this all understood? Brilliant. Mr. Malfoy, I am sure you know where to find the Potions classroom and office as well as the Head of Slytherin's chambers?"
"Indeed, Headmistress." Draco answered.
"Good. You may go there now and prepare yourself. Miss Granger, would you care to follow me? There is a bit more I'd like to discuss with you on the way to show you to your classroom, office and chambers."
"Of course, Headmistress." She said.
The three of them parted once they reached the top of the Grand Staircase. Draco made his way to the ground floor, and then disappeared down to the dungeons and Hermione and McGonagall continued through a corridor on the first floor. As they reached Classroom 4F the Headmistress turned to the young, new Professor. "Firstly, I have personally charmed the room to make it a bit bigger, seeing as how it could only fit roughly eight to ten students before. Now, it may fit up to twenty-five if needed, but either way it is a lot less cramped now."
"Oh, well that's lovely. Thank you, Headmistress."
"You're very welcome." she said but pressed on. "Alright, so unfortunately I'm sure you know of Mr. Cuthbert Binns." At this Hermione audibly groaned.
"I- I had forgotten actually, but yes, I am well acquainted." Poor Professor Binns had taught History of Magic at Hogwarts for ages, and one day while lounging in the Staff Room, he nodded off and sadly never woke up alive for he passed away in his sleep. Apparently, his ghost was seen simply rising from his chair and leaving his body behind. Cuthbert had no inclination he had died. Since then, he has continued to teach the class, although very dead, and has shown no signs of ever passing beyond the veil and thus has remained earthbound.
"I have tried to reason with Professor Binns, telling him he was dismissed from his position and was free to pass on, but he has refused to listen to a word I say, going as far as to insult me, calling me a decrepit old nutter! I told him to look in the mirror!" they both chuckled at this.
"Oh my, that's just dreadful!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Yes, it was. I am asking you to please try and speak with him about it. He may listen to you."
Hermione laughed nervously. "Of course, I'll do my best, but this may prove difficult, since even though I took his class for years he still could never get my name right! He kept calling me Miss Grant." McGonagall dismissively waved that off.
"Oh, Professor Granger, I have the utmost faith in you. You have a funny way of getting through to almost anyone."
"Almost anyone," She repeated. McGonagall pretended she didn't hear that.
"Okay, well, the students will be here tomorrow evening around twilight and classes will begin the next day on Monday. You may take this time to prepare yourself and get your classroom ready as well as enhance your living quarters to your liking. Your chambers are just down the hall to the right. It is the mahogany door with the tapestry of the otter and fish to the left."
With that the Headmistress was off, and Hermione happily trotted down the corridor to the door and the tapestry McGonagall had described. As she approached, she gazed up at the large, exquisitely detailed wall hanging. The background of it was a deep blue with light cerulean highlights, presenting the water, and the center showcased a swimming, cheerful brown otter grasping a yellow fish in its little paw, clearly about to enjoy its lunch. 'She must have made this for me!' Her patronus was an otter, after all.
She went to open the door to her rooms and was dazzled by the intricately carved mahogany doorknob shaped into the head of a lion, something else McGonagall must have personalized for her. She was a tad fearful it would bite her hand but she laughed that idea off and went inside. The interior was relatively dusty, a moderate amount of grime and soot layered atop the surfaces and furniture, giving a thickness to the stale ale. Hermione sneezed, overwhelmed from it. Apparently, Cuthbert had no interest in keeping the place clean or tidy; despite there being a large bookcase, random books, texts and scrolls were strewn about in reckless abandon over the coffee table, counters, and end tables. There was also a desk in the middle of the room that was beneath a large, streaked window. There was a fireplace with a mantel that appeared to have not been used in decades. The candles around the room had been burned down to the wicks, hard wax seeping outward over their sticks and holders. There was a small, cozy kitchenette. In the somewhat rusted sink lay a few plates, a bowl, two mugs and a glass. There was an incessant dripping of water droplets from the faucet, and on the stove top a kettle full of cold water sat abandoned, ever waiting to fill a cup for tea. She was weary of checking inside the fridge.
Hermione patted the brown sofa, which was decent sized, and mildly coughed as a heap of dust billowed into the musky air. "Goodness me," she rasped. Opposite the sofa was the coffee table placed in front of the fireplace. Adjacent to the sofa was a big, stiff-looking armchair. On the left of the fireplace was a door so she opened it and went inside. Her new bedroom had lots of potential, although, just as much covered in dust as the rest of the living quarters. She inspected the vicinity. There was a roomy queen sized bed, an end table with an antique lamp, a spacious closet, dresser and a plain mirror. 'I have a lot of room to work with.' She assessed and she took out her wand, planning how she'd decorate.
She first successfully "scourgified" everything, wiping away the dust and soot with her magic. In her bedroom she transfigured the plain mirror into a classy, but not overly done, oak vanity set, and she stained it a pretty marigold shade. She changed the old quilt on the bed into a huge, fluffy scarlet-colored comforter with soft gold sheets and pillows. She decided that the closet, dresser and end table were large enough but colored the surfaces the same marigold color and spiced up the closet door to a fresher shade of brown. Her living room and kitchen had been given the same treatment, giving the whole room earthy brown, gold and crimson shades. She cleaned the ancient dishes and levitated them into the cabinets. She waved her wand and said, "tergeo" which made quick work of getting rid of the rust in the sink and cleaning out the refridgerator. The waxy burnt-out candles were now turned back to their original, unused state. Additionally, every book, scroll and piece of parchment was guided neatly into the bookcase. To set the finishing touch she added wispy, scarlet drapes to the window in the living room to match everything.
Feeling extremely accomplished and satisfied, she plopped herself down onto her now red sofa and said, "incendio", lighting a bright, warm inferno to the fireplace. With one more wave of her wand, Hermione began heating the once forgotten kettle, ready to relax for a bit with a hot mug of herbal tea. After the water was ready she fixed herself a cup and sat back down in front of the fire. She let out a sigh of relief. "That's more like it," she spoke out loud.
Suddenly, as if he had heard the commotion, the plump, wrinkly-faced ghost of Cuthbert Binns floated down through the ceiling and frightened the living daylights out of her. She shrieked and almost spilled her hot liquid all over her but was thankful for she did not. He let out a long, ghoul-like moan as he descended to the floor. "Mr. Binns! Merlin's beard, you scared the bloody hell out of me!" she half-yelled at him, gasping for air. He peered at her accusingly.
"Well, I've never heard such language from a young lady, and a student no less! And what might you be doing in my chambers?" he wailed, his voice a little less monotonous than she remembered.
"Actually, Mr. Binns, I'm no longer a student here. I've graduated and am now a new professor." She stated. He scratched his head and straightened his crooked bifocals as he gave her a good look. Something seemed to snap into place as his eyes studied her face.
"Ah, I've got it!" he said as he hit his fist against his palm in an 'ah-ha' moment. "I remember teaching you! You're Miss Grant, one of my best students." If Hermione rolled her eyes any harder they would have fallen out of her face.
"It's Miss Granger, for the one-hundredth time. And these are now, my living quarters." She responded with disdain. His eyes widened in horror. "Honestly, Mr. Binns, you would think you'd have gotten my name right by now."
"What did you mean by that, eh? What do you mean these are now your living quarters?" he looked electrified now, upset at her apparent insolence. Hermione took a deep breath. She had to be more delicate with the old man.
She took a sip of her tea, set it down and rose from the couch. "Look, I know this is going to be difficult for you to understand," she walked to the fireplace and used the poker to move around the burning wood inside. "You died quite a while ago, decades I presume, and although we've respected your place here as part of the staff at Hogwarts, it is time for you to move on, perhaps even pass on, if you can." Hermione knew she did not have the best tact when it came to these types of things. She had thought of pursuing the medi-witch career before, but one thing she was not extremely confident in was her bed-side manners.
"What in good heavens are you babbling on about?" he queried, yet seemed to have calmed down a smidge. "You're just as delusional as that old nutter, McGonagall! What is this academy coming to?" he whined.
"With all due respect, Mr. Binns, it is more probable that you are indeed the one who is delusional." Hermione seethed through gritted teeth as her hands swiftly rested against her waist. She jutted out her hip with attitude for optimal effect. "I'm the History of Magic professor from this day on, and I expect you to get your ducks in a row, politely resign with dignity and let it be so I can attend to my classes properly."
"Miss Grant," she cringed at the usage of the wrong surname, again. "If there is one thing I'm not doing it's politely resigning! This position has been my whole life!" He was optimally back to freaking out now.
"Yes, and it's been your whole after-life as well." She said in a much gentler tone. He seemed to ignore her as he lamented about the room weeping, still not quite hearing her. "I know this is not easy for you, but you have been terminated, indefinitely, because… because you are dead, indefinitely." She finished. Hermione was getting absolutely no joy from this. It must be so hard to be a ghost.
He sniffed and sniveled in the corner of the room, his erratic sobbing becoming more and more steady. Hermione thought the image of it was entirely creepy. Finally, his head seemed to bob upwards with an idea. "Okay, okay. I've got it, I've got it…"
"Wha- what do you got?" she questioned hesitantly.
"The perfect idea, I do!"
"Please elaborate."
"If you must be the new Professor then I will switch roles and attend your classes as a student!" the ghoul commenced. Hermione smacked her own forehead in annoyance.
'Oh, dear Merlin. No.'
"That is not going to work, Mr. Binns, not for me, and not for my students. You will only serve as a distraction! I can't have you-"
"It's perfect! I'll even score you to let you know how your lectures are! Oh, this will be fascinating. I will be the one in the learner's chair for once! Who'd have thought it?" he started floating away, ascending back up to the ceiling.
"No, no, Mr. Binns! Please…" she cried out but he was gone as fast as a golden snitch. "Oh, bugger." Feeling utterly defeated she threw herself on the sofa. Blast it all, she was exhausted. This might have been one of the longest days of her life. If seeing Malfoy and discovering he was to be her colleague wasn't enough to send her over the edge, this was the icing on top of the cake. Although, there happened to be a few things that were definitely decent about today; the otter tapestry and carved lion doorknob; her own new living quarters in which she got to polish it all up and decorate it to her liking and the fire was warm, emanating mellow heat to her body. Her eyelids felt extremely heavy all of a sudden and fluttered shut. The last thing she envisioned before she succumbed to dreams was silver-blonde hair, raincloud eyes and a devilish smirk, but she wouldn't remember it.
In the morning, Hermione awoke and felt rather chilly as she sat up from the couch. 'I need some throw-blankets.' She observed that the fireplace was no longer lit, still emitting a pale swirl of smoke from the ashes. Looking down at her hands in her lap, a sad thought occurred to her. She really, truly missed her part kneazle cat Crookshanks. Out of kindness for Ginny, Hermione had left her cat to live at the Burrow with the Weasley's and Harry. Crookshanks had always liked the red-haired girl, vice versa, as well as the environment of the rickety house and as a gift to her had let him stay. Hermione had almost regretted this but had set aside her own selfishness. She wanted Ginny to have her little friend around while she could not be there. If Crookshanks were here he could keep her warm all night long and she could pet his fluffy fur for comfort and…
A rather excellent idea came to mind and she formulated a plan. She could take a trip by apparating from Hogsmeade to Diagon Alley today, and not only pick up a few last minute materials that she was in need of but she could also stop at the Magical Menagerie and check out the pets. Perhaps she could bring home a new kitty! Oh, the thought delighted her. She only wished she'd come up with this sooner, she'd have done it earlier in the week before she left on the Hogwarts Express. Usually she had no trouble at all with preparation and organization, but recently she'd just felt so empty, but overwhelmed. This trip would surely raise her spirits. Thankfully there was a large, round, old-fashioned clock adorning the wall by the front door. It read, 6:35 in the morning. She had a good amount of time to get it all done and be back in time to plan for the first week of classes but she'd have to move now. Hermione needed to ask permission from McGonagall, of course.
She went into the bedroom. While she had been cleaning last night she had returned her luggage to its normal size. Rummaging through them she found an outfit she was happy with. She put on new underwear as well as a brazier, posh khaki trousers with a skinny ankle, and a crisp, clover green blouse. She quickly tamed her hair which had become a bit of a mangled mess during her sleep and cloaked herself in her plain black robes. Setting her feet in some black oxfords she gave one last look in her mirror, put some money in her coin pouch and made her way out the door.
She breezily trotted down the corridor excitedly and was then surprised as ever when she saw Draco walking up the Grand Staircase, looking just as surprised to see her. "Good morning, Malfoy." She offered politely.
"Morning," he returned. "You're looking positively jovial, what's gotten into you?"
"Oh, well, I've got something mildly fun planned for my morning." She told him truthfully and he seemed intrigued. "Where exactly are you headed so early?"
He shrugged. "Honestly, I was just going for a bit of a walk to stretch my legs, you know, inspect the castle before breakfast. I don't have anything mildly fun planned for the morning like you." He taunted but it wasn't malicious. Hermione was amused.
"Ah, right. Well, see you." And she turned to go down Gargoyle Corridor where the Headmaster's Tower would be.
"Uh, wait a minute…" he called after her. Shocked, she turned back around. He just gazed at her and she gave him a questioning look. He shuffled his feet, actually appearing to be nervous, which was a rare sight to see on him. "What could possibly be so fun, I wonder?" he drawled.
"Um… well, I'm about to go ask permission from the Headmistress to see if I could make a little trip… out to Diagon Alley." She finished and awaited his reply.
"Oh, is that so?" His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wall. "Whatever for?" he pressed on.
It was time for Hermione to shuffle her feet. "There's a few things I need, materials and…" she trailed off.
"…And?"
"…A cat! I want to go get a new cat, is that alright with you?" she was getting a little annoyed. Why did Malfoy always have to go and get her revved up?
"Blimey, Granger, you're going all the way to Diagon Alley just to get a new wittle-kitty-kins?" he chuckled in merriment, a little bit at her, and a little bit at his own hilarity. "That's absurd!" he continued savagely. Hermione huffed in anger.
"I'm not going just for a cat, there's a lot more I could get to prepare for my stay here." She said but he just kept looking at her with mirth twinkling in his eyes. "And for your information, it's not absurd! Having an animal by my side is essential to my… to my growth as a witch, and as a person. I– "
"You don't fool me, Granger; you just want a little kitty cat to cuddle with at night, am I right?" he jabbed.
"Oh, you are relentless, Malfoy, and incorrigible, you know that?" she rebutted haughtily.
"Certainly," he replied
"That's great. Now, if you'd excuse me, this is clearly just wasting my time, which you're always so very keen on doing." And she turned down the corridor again.
"No, Granger, wait,"
Her brain almost exploded. She whipped her head back around in exasperated anguish. "Yes?" she ground out.
"Let me come with you, err, well may I?" he asked her quietly. It would entertain him greatly to follow her along. Perhaps he could get a few things as well.
She stood still, astonished. "You… you want to come with me?"
"I mean, sure but all you had to do was ask, Granger."
She took her pouch, which was decently heavy with coins, and launched it towards his face. He caught it before it made contact with his forehead, his smirk giving way to record breaking heights.
"You're really going to try to throw a little pouch at me, when I was part of the Slytherin Quidditch team for years?"
"You just love reminding everyone of that." She stated. It wasn't a question but his smirk never left his lips. "Come on then, if you really want to go." And she turned on her heels for the final time because after that she wasn't going to look back. "Oh, and you love hearing yourself talk!" she called behind her as he followed.
"Ha! As if you don't enjoy hearing yourself spew out fact after bloody fact." He mocked.
"Oh, do shut up!" she told him, but she wouldn't let him see the small smile she had. They reached the entrance of the Headmaster's Tower and walked up to McGonagall's office.
AN: Until the next chapter then, which I will gladly get started on tomorrow (technically today since its 3 AM lol). I'm incredibly excited to put my plans into action so I will definitely update regularly and try to make the chapters as long as possible. Thank you again for the reviews and I can't wait to continue on this journey with you all.
