A/N: Thank you for the kind response this story has received so far on this platform. A busy weekend is going to blend into a busy week, so I decided to post the second chapter a bit earlier than intended. I hope you enjoy it!

Like in the first chapter, a huge shout-out to the person who beta'ed the hell out of this and managed to write a wonderful story for the fest herself: niffizzle.

After another round of highly dosed coffee the following morning, the two professors started what Hermione called 'diagnosis'. They needed to know exactly where their summer students' weaknesses lay. A simple, "He trolled the O.W.L. in History of Magic," or "She can't even master the most simple stuff," wasn't very informative.

And so they analysed every student individually, alternatingly testing their year's curriculum with basic skills. Hermione, as the Charms Professor, started with a simple Levitation and grew more demanding when the child demonstrated proficiency. If he or she didn't master a particular task, she marked it on the parchments she'd created for each student.

At first, the process was mildly enjoyable, providing her with the perfect opportunity to dive in deep with an individual's skill set - something her demanded class schedule hardly gave her time to do during the typical school year. However, her pedagogical enthusiasm evaporated very fast.

After the fifth student, Hermione was ready to bang her head on the table.

"What's up?" Draco asked, amused.

"Seriously? I am asking myself what the hell we taught those students these past few years - the exchange of carbon-dioxide and oxygen?"

"They're not that bad," Draco retorted.

Hermione counted on her fingers. "Walters gave you an antenna instead of transfiguring a pen into a cockroach. Stevens made a cauldron explode with a simple Forgetfulness Potion," she pointed at her singed eyebrows, "and when he tried to unarm you with his Expelliarmus, Everton misfired and will squeak like a mouse for the rest of the day. Hopefully only today."

Draco found this whole display of desperation quite... adorable? His colleague's cheeks bore a slight pink hue, and due to the increased humidity, her curls had begun to frizzle.

"Do you think there's a way to get expelled from Hogwarts because of sheer lack of talent?"

He knew she wasn't serious, but he couldn't help but answer, "Well, if there were a way, the Weasel would have been gone by third year!"

"That's not true!" Her eyes sparkled passionately in the light of the classroom and his grin widened.

"I know, I just wanted to stop your whining and get you angry instead."

She smacked his shoulder, but at least he had made her feel slightly better.

"Alright, then let's get this over with, shall we?"

Two hours and an innumerable amount of gasps, ducks, and shield spells later, Hermione and Draco had finally tested all the remaining young witches and wizards. And the picture was pretty bleak.

"Eighty per cent are heavily lacking in History if Magic, but no one in Divination," Hermione summed up, using her wand to turn the individual charts into coloured stats and charts floating in front of them. "Thank Merlin," she added under her breath. "The rest is evenly distributed over the other subjects."

Draco nodded, taking in the results.

Then, she suggested, "I thought we could split the classes between us and create a schedule and study plan for each individual student?"

"That idea is quite perfect when you only have their passing as a goal."

"Do I hear a but?" she challenged him.

"But," he continued, exaggerating the word for emphasis, "look at them… Stevens' catastrophic potion skills are due to her fear of Severus. Everton has this speech defect that prevents him from articulating certain sounds when he's nervous, so he naturally keeps messing up spoken spells. Masters is so full of himself and his glorious heritage that he overlooks that there's more to Defense than a stance like he has blue balls…"

Hermione giggled and told the Defense Professor, "He actually reminds me a lot of you in your younger years. You have to admit-"

Knowing what was coming, he poked her ticklish side - the only tactic he knew so far to interrupt her speech, besides an ancient tome, that is. "My point is, Professor Granger, that we need to take their personalities into consideration as well as their academic skills."

She blinked. As someone who grew up next to him, it still caught her by surprise sometimes the way he had matured and grown into a respected and talented mentor.

"Also, I don't intend to spend my whole summer inside, so we should also plan some Quidditch games. Can't grow rusted or pudgy now, can I?"

Well, mostly matured.

"Okay," she conceded, with only a slight eye roll because she thought his idea of a wholesome education quite modern and logical. "What about this: I draw up the individual study schedules, and you take over the lesson plans? Then, we look over them and add some fun activities and free time?"

"That sounds like a solid plan." He winked and added, "And I'm starting the fun activity by checking out if the Quidditch pitch is still functional."

Draco was about to stand up when Hermione pulled him back by his sleeve.

"Wait. We have to talk about Jacob Higgins." She had turned serious again, the second year boy being a case that seemed especially bad.

Of course, Hermione had considered him a lost case in Charms, but now that she had the chance to see him performing in other subjects, she felt something bigger was amiss with the youngest student in their summer group.

"Apparently, he doesn't understand complex texts. He can read the words out loud, but whenever he is supposed to write something, it's like a blank page. I assumed he was just very untalented in Charms. But-"

"- It's something that happens in every subject and therefore is a general problem." Draco tilted his head, taking Hermione's worries very seriously.

"Do we know anything about his schooling before Hogwarts?"

"He was homeschooled," Draco answered, familiar with the Slytherin's background. "Traditional wizarding family, though not one of the old elite, in case you ask."

Hermione hummed and checked the results again. "And in his essays: his sentence structure, grammar, spelling… it's like a very young child just starting to read and write. No punctuation." She bit her lip in thought, a vague memory of her own primary school days tickling her mind.

"You're up to something." What in their school years would've pushed him to taunt her, now merely piqued his curiosity.

Another nod. "Maybe. Let me -"

"- Check something in the library?" he finished for her.

She smiled brightly at him. "You know me too well, Draco Malfoy."

"Oh, I think there are still a lot of secrets about Hermione Granger I've yet to discover."

Hermione shivered at that - probably imagined - layer of flirtiness.

She decided to react playfully. "Is that a threat, my fellow professor?"

"A promise."

She cleared her throat, a bit embarrassed at the effect he sometimes - veeeery rarely, really - had on her. "But before I check the library, I might need to send a letter. I'm going to be back in an hour or so." The haze of her memory lifted the more she thought about it, but she needed proof, and maybe even some expertise.

"Why? The owlery isn't that far away," Draco wanted to know.

"I don't need an owl."

"Are you going to tell me?"

Draco Malfoy, Hermione had learned, was as curious as she was and couldn't stand not knowing what was going on.

"Nope." She grinned and explained, "I've got to see if my thoughts are taking the right route. But you'll know, eventually." His mock pout amused her. "Oh, poor Draky." On an impulse, she patted his cheek. "Now be a good boy and go play Quidditch for a bit."

Draco, his cheek still slightly tingling after the unexpected skin-to-skin contact, stayed behind when Hermione exited the room.

Him? A good boy? Never. Especially not for Professor Granger.