Draco groaned, rubbing the back of his sore neck as he walked down the halls of Hogwarts. Last night's rest was not a comfortable one. It was spent tossing and turning restlessly with his mind wandering through thoughts and memories that he'd rather forget but couldn't. A good night's sleep utterly seemed impossible for him.

The weekend had flown by faster than he anticipated, which made his dread for his first class on Mondays even more vexing. Muggle Studies. It was the last class he ever thought of taking at Hogwarts, but with his probation by the Ministry requiring him to pile on classes or extracurricular activities to keep his schedule busy, he had little choice in the matter. He would have rather taken Muggle Studies as elective than participate in Frog Choir three times a week after classes.

It was even more vexing for him that this class started a week later than scheduled; McGonagall, the new Headmistress, had informed them outside the classroom when the term commenced the week prior.

"I apologize," she had said to the students gathered around the classroom for Muggle Studies, "It appears that Professor Lockley still has not arrived from his travels, but we've received word from him that he will be able to attend classes starting next Monday. You have permission to use the time designated time for Muggle Studies as free periods until then."

Draco had rolled his eyes in groggy irritation. He'd forced himself to get out of bed after a sleepless night and it turned out he was able to sleep in with no consequence. Muggle Studies was already getting under his skin, especially when he briefly caught sight of Hermione Granger on the other side of the crowd outside their classroom that first Monday morning.

Upon arriving at the classroom, Draco looked around the room and found that he was the last student to arrive, seeing that there was only seat left available. He received wary glances from the first students to notice him enter the room, but chose to ignore them rather than shoot back their glares as he had the past week. He was much too tired.

Draco continued on to take the last seat, but then froze when he realized whom he was to share the bench with. The brown, bushy hair and studious nose deep in their Muggle Studies textbook was characteristic of only one person he knew and despised for much of his youth, the Mudblood. Lovely.

Draco eye's swept around the classroom one more time in hopes of finding another seat, but confirmed there were no other seats available for him to occupy. He clenched his teeth. Asking someone to switch with him was out of the question; he'd rather not bring more attention to himself than necessary and he didn't expect anyone to comply with any request from him, either.

Draco hesitantly sank down to sit on the empty side of the bench. Granger glanced up at him from her textbook, eyes widening a bit when she realized who had taken the seat beside her.

"Class hasn't even started and you've already read halfway through the textbook, Granger?" Draco commented, feeling his old provoking nature returning to cast a cloak his discomfort, "I'm surprised Potter's the one who needs glasses."

She shot him a small glare, clearly out of habit, but did not have a chance to reply before the classroom's door swung open and crashed into the wall with a loud thud. All the students turned their heads towards the back of the classroom and saw a feeble elderly man enter the classroom clumsily with a suitcase in hand.

"Oh dear, I apologize," the elderly man said, taking his hat off and bowing remorsefully to the students sitting nearest the door, "I didn't mean to frighten you; I must not know my own strength!"

The old man was short, severely hunched with age. He wore a ragged brown cloak and and bright red bowtie that seemed to stick out like a sore thumb compared to the dull, brown colors of the rest of his clothing. He seemed so frail with his feet dragging across the stone floor as he made his way to the front of the class. He set down his suitcase atop the front desk with some difficulty before turning to face his students.

"I am Aengus Lockley, your new Muggle Studies professor," he said, fingers intertwined in front of his chest, "Headmistress McGonagall has kindly recruited me for this position and I am more than happy that I have the opportunity to teach such fine students here at Hogwarts! My expertise with Muggles is particularly in the subject of cultural traditions from all around the Muggle world."

Draco brought up his hand and rested his chin on his palm, mentally sighing from the boredom that already overwhelmed him. He hadn't expected this class to be exciting the least bit, but his already existent fatigue multiplied his boredom.

"Before we begin the first lesson, how many of you here are Muggle-born?" Lockley asked, clapping his hands together. Enthusiasm was clear in his voice, "Come on now, raise your hands high. Don't be shy!"

Some students gave each other questioning glances before any of them replied. After a brief moment, Granger was one of the three students in the class who raised their hands meekly in response to his question. Draco habitually scrunched his nose.

"Ah, I see you're the ones who have signed up for my class for an easy 'O'," Lockley guffawed at his own joke. A small chuckle escaped from some of the students.

"Now, how many of you are half-blood, hm?"

The majority of the students raised their hands.

"Ah, lovely! Lastly, how many of you are pure-blood? Or are pure-blood as far as you're aware?"

Draco lazily raised his hand along with two others in the class, unsure of why he even chose to participate in this ridiculous introduction to the class of self-identification. Lockley raised his hand as well.

"Splendid! Now, can anyone tell me how many eyes, fingers, arms, and legs Muggles have?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. What in Merlin's name was this old twit getting at with all these useless and ridiculous questions? How they contributed to the lesson, he didn't know. This old man was senile and this class was clearly a waste of time.

"...They have the same amount as us wizards and witches, sir," a 4th year Hufflepuff girl answered after a few moments of the class's awkward silence. Her reply sounded painfully obvious that she was unsure if it was a trick question or genuine one- as were the rest of the class.

"Yes!" Lockley cheered, receiving bemused looks from some students, "That is correct, Miss er- dear, what is your name?"

"Giselle Morny, sir," the Hufflepuff girl replied.

"Right you are, Miss Morny!" Lockley said, "Muggles have two eyes, ten fingers, two arms, and two legs… just like us!"

Draco rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He noticed Hermione fiddling with her quill and shaking her leg as if she, too, was feeling the impatience of how slowly this class was going. He wasn't even sure why she was in this class as well in the first place if her parents were Muggles. If she chose this class for a challenge, he certainly thought it was a poor one.

"Bloody hell, Granger, will you stop shaking your damn leg?" Draco hissed under his breath. The vibration of their bench from her shaking bothered him more than it should have. She glared at him from the corner of her eye, bit her bottom lip, and slung her leg over the other.

"Muggles are not so different from us," their professor continued, walking across the front of the room with his bright eyes hovering over his students, "Now, this is the main lesson that I want each and everyone one of you to take away from my class at the end of this term, Muggle-borns, half-bloods, and pure-bloods alike: Muggles are our counterparts as a human species. The only difference between them and us is their inability to harness magical power. And that, my dear students, is why Muggles are so incredibly fascinating: they are still able to achieve great and colossal things despite their lack of magic."

Draco sniffed, disinterested. Being preached about how Muggles aren't as useless as he viewed them to be was not appealing at the slightest, coming from another pure-blood no less. Frog Choir was looking more and more like a better alternative the longer this class dragged on.

"Over the course of your terms here in my class, we will be exploring the different aspects of the Muggles' way of life, such as religions, transportation, and the internet," Lockley said, "After each aspect that we study, you will study a specific thing- in pairs- from each aspect and present it to the class. The Muggle world is full of captivating things and we won't be able to finely dissect each and every thing with the term's time constraints."

Splendid. Another thing to get under his skin about this blasted class. Draco folded his arms on to the desk and hung his head; he felt a headache incoming. Group work was something he detested and the situation was even more aggravating since he would surely have to unwillingly collaborate and converse with a 5th year Ravenclaw or a 4th year Gryffindor that he did not know or have a shred of care for. No one would even find it pleasant to be partnered up with him, anyway.

"Your partner for the rest of the term will be the person sitting with you at your bench," Lockley said, taking out a piece of parchment and his quill from his suitcase, "which I will take note of as I go around the room. That way, I get to familiarize myself with your beautiful, youthful faces and names while also having a seating chart for my reference."

Draco cursed under his breath; he really had chosen to come down at the wrong time to this class. If he had come down five or ten minutes earlier, he was sure that he would've ended up sitting next to anyone but Granger.

"And while I go around the room to take your names, please do take this time to read the introduction of your textbook," Lockley said as he slowly walked over to the front desk of the first row.

Draco slowly opened his textbook, glaring down at the first page. It seemed that it was just one nuisance on top of another and the stacking didn't seem to want to end. It was one thing to be paired to another student he didn't know, but it was another thing to be paired with someone he'd detested throughout his years at Hogwarts. Granger didn't say a word to him as they read and he was glad for it.

"Hello there," Lockley came to their desk towards the back of the class, "And what would your names be- Oh, Merlin's beard! Hermione Granger, is it?"

"Y-yes, Professor," Granger beside him said, flustered at their professor's sudden burst of energy.

"My, my. It's such an honor to meet you, young lady," Lockley shook her hand vigorously, much to her surprise of how strong this frail old man was, "I've read all about you in the Daily Prophet all these years. I commend you for your bravery. If I can be frank, I've always wondered why such a bright witch like yourself was not sorted into Ravenclaw- but after all you've done, it comes to me that you are surely a Gryffindor, without a doubt."

"Thank you, Professor," Granger said with a small smile, evidently unsure of how else to reply. Draco couldn't help but feel annoyed at the sight.

"And what is your name, son?" Lockley had turned to him with his parchment and quill back in hand. His bright gold eyes looked like they were staring straight into Draco's soul.

"Draco Malfoy," Draco muttered, half expecting the old man to say something upon hearing his name. Being singled out was something he wanted to avoid more than anything as of late. He didn't need more insults or glares being thrown at him, and he certainly did not want any undivided attention from anyone. He just wanted to be left alone.

"Thank you, my boy, it has been noted," Lockley said, jotting down his name with an enthusiastic. Draco felt himself relax when Lockley didn't acknowledge anything about his name.

"Well, I hope you find my class academically stimulating, Miss Granger. It will be a fun term, I can promise you that," their professor said and he moved on to the next desk.

"A fun term, he says," Draco muttered irritably to himself when Lockley was out of earshot. Granger beside him shifted in her seat. If she heard him, she didn't show it and continued on to reading where she had left of in the textbook.

Hermione fiddled with her fork, poking at the scrambled eggs and sausages on her plate as her thoughts wandered aimlessly. Saturday had finally come and Ginny had fetched her in the morning to have breakfast in the Great Hall.

The second week of classes had gone by slowly for her- excruciatingly sluggish. She thought being back to her studies would keep her busy, but Hermione found herself struggling to keep herself rooted in her routine of studying and reading. There was far too much on her mind.

It didn't help that Malfoy had been fatefully designated as her partner for Muggle Studies, meaning she would be soon required to interact with him three times in the week. Although he'd proved himself to be less vocal and antagonizing after the war with the matters of his family and probation, Hermione still felt the same arrogance and disdain radiating off of him when she sat beside him. She ignored him and was thankful that he ignored her in return.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked, taking a bite out of an apple, "You've barely eaten any of your breakfast."

Hermione heaved a sigh, setting her fork down on the table as if she'd given up trying to appetize herself enough to eat. When she didn't reply right away and continued to only stare at her plate of untouched food, Ginny reached across the table and gently set her hand atop Hermione's. Ginny's touch was warm, comforting.

"Is it about your parents?" Ginny asked softly, voice laced with sadness for her friend. Hermione couldn't look Ginny in the eye, afraid for if she did she would let the tempting tears escape. Hermione bit her lip and nodded.

"I should be out there looking for them," she said in a low voice, feeling a painful tug at her chest, "It's difficult to focus on schoolwork with that thought constantly at the back of my mind."

"It's alright Hermione," Ginny said, her hold tightening, "You know it isn't safe to be out there on your own just yet. You know that the Order will need to ensure that all the remaining Death Eaters have been accounted for. You'll be able to go off and find them soon; don't worry."

Hermione nodded. She'd already tried to get permission from the Order to locate her parents in Australia after the war ended to restore their memories, but her requests were firmly declined each time. Arthur Weasley's reassurance that their search for the last of the Death Eaters would be soon complete felt like it had been centuries ago. The longer she waited, the worse she felt with each passing day.

"Thanks for the comfort, Ginny," Hermione smiled, "I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," Ginny replied, smiling back and taking back her hand, "I think we all need some of that right about now."

Hermione looked at Ginny with understanding and felt the usual pang of loneliness she felt whenever she was reminded that Harry and Ron weren't around. Oh, how she missed them being by her side. And she knew Ginny felt the same way.

"Weasley," someone said. Hermione turned her head to her left and saw that Draco Malfoy had approached them. His face was tired like hers as if he hadn't gotten much sleep, either.

"Malfoy," Ginny greeted back, "I was actually just about to find you. My schedule's open for all of today, if you were still willing."

"I'll meet you at the pitch after you finish up," Draco simply said, nodding at her plate of food and leaving before Ginny could reply. Hermione kept her eyes on Malfoy's back as he departed out of the Great Hall before turning back to to Ginny.

"Are you sure about this, Gin?" Hermione asked, concerned. She still didn't understand why Ginny had chosen to seek the help of the last person they'd ever think of asking a favor from.

"I don't see why not, Hermione," Ginny replied, "I've already pestered all the other previous Seekers for advice. And besides, other than Harry, you have to admit that Malfoy's the next best Seeker who's still around Hogwarts."

"I know, but…" Hermione trailed off, scrunching her brow, "This is Malfoy."

"I know that too, Hermione," Ginny said, "but I hardly think he'll try any funny business, being under watch by the Ministry and McGonagall and all. I'll be fine… and at least focusing on Quidditch will give me the distraction I need."

Hermione hesitantly nodded, unable to verbalize any other points to make against her friend's wishes. If a distraction was what Ginny needed, then it would be unfair for Hermione to deprive her friend of it knowing full well of what Ginny was also suffering through after the loss of Fred and the absence of Harry.

"Well, if he causes you any trouble, just let me know," Hermione said.

Ginny shot her a reassuring smile, "Of course."

Ginny made her way down the stone steps that led to the Quidditch Pitch from the castle with her broom in hand. Her bag that carried her Quidditch gear bounced against her side with each step she took. It was a cool Saturday morning in September, the fall breeze just light enough to feel pleasant on her exposed skin. It seemed a perfect day for flying and she understood why Malfoy had been up and about in the skies the weekend before. The weather did not get any better than this for flying.

Ginny arrived at the pitch and found Draco Malfoy already waiting for her in the middle of the grass, sitting down and reading a book with his bag and broomstick lying beside him. The all-black turtleneck and black pants he wore made him stand out against the green.

"Morning," Ginny said, putting down her bag onto the grass a few feet away. He didn't reply and just put away his book before getting up to his feet.

"First thing's first," Draco said, folding his arms, "Before we even think about hopping on a broom, tell me what you know about being a Seeker."

"The Snitch is your only concern, aside from being knocked out by a Bludger, of course," Ginny replied. She inwardly glad that he wasted no time in jumping to their training; any small talk would have been awkward.

Draco yawned, "And?"

"When you've found the snitch and are in pursuit, you shouldn't finely focus your vision and track the snitch itself, but focus on its erratic movement within a larger field of vision in front of you to anticipate its next move."

He blinked, "And?"

"If you've found the Snitch before your opponent's Seeker, your priority is to maneuver it in the direction of the wind to give you an advantage in capturing it."

"And?"

"...Be fast?" Ginny said, frowning with a hint of annoyance in her voice. What else did he want her to say?

"Right," Draco said, nodding, "At the end of the day, even if you've got some convoluted plan under your belt, you've got no chance of catching the Snitch if you're as slow as your brother's brain."

Ginny glared at him at the comment about Ron and received an amused smirk in return.

"Still with the childish insults, I see," she said, "You would think you would've grown out of it after returning to Hogwarts, Malfoy."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Weasley," Draco said sarcastically, "Anyway, the key is to be fast in your movements and also in your thinking. You have to make split-second decisions without hesitation, while also making the best judgement to ensure your decision is the correct one. As a Chaser, you've got two other teammates that have your back while you try to do your job, but as a Seeker, you function alone."

"Right," Ginny nodded, adjusting her grip on her broom.

"The first thing I'll have you do is gauge just how fast you're able to go on that pitiful broom of yours," Draco noted, observing her broomstick with scrutinizing eyes, "Is that worn piece of rubbish older than you are?"

Ginny sent him another glare, her annoyance with his provoking nature slowly growing, "It's a fine broom, thanks."

Draco shrugged, "Whatever you say, Weasley. Now, I want you to get on your broom and fly around the pitch in any pattern of your choice- but just fly as fast as you and your twig can go."

Ginny gave him another annoyed glance before getting on her broom and kicking of the ground into flight. Draco observed her as she flew through above him around the pitch, noting her posture and her speed. She was a fine flyer, he deduced, but there were definitely some things about her technique that could be improved.

Draco's lesson continued through the rest of the morning, giving Ginny instructions from the ground of where to fly and how to fly so he could evaluate her technique even further. He laid out the basics of flying from the very beginning, much to her chagrin. Draco ignored her subtle protest about him teaching her things she already knew. He intended to build her from the ground up as a Seeker and to accomplish that would mean fine tuning of even the basics.

The sun was now high in the sky, the air warmer. Ginny took a swig from her canteen to quench her thirst. Flying endlessly all morning while also being lectured by Draco at the same time proved to be more tiring than she anticipated. Though she was irritated at his method of delivering his instructions in an unnecessarily aggressive way, she felt that his coaching had been beneficial so far. She hadn't realized that her basic techniques were far less than perfect than she had perceived them to be.

"Oh, would you look at what we have here," a voice taunted nearby. Ginny and Draco turned to where the voice came from and saw a black-haired young man walking towards them with two other boys following behind looking just as intimidating. They each carried a broomstick.

"How absolutely adorable," the young man said, "Gryffindor's Quidditch princess trying to make her way as a Seeker. I think you'd be better of as Chaser, Weasley. Or better yet, in the stands instead."

"And you are?" Draco glared, already finding the uninvited presence obnoxiously irritating.

"Killian Culver," Ginny said disdainfully, answering for him.

"That's right," the boy said haughtily, running his fingers through his sleek black hair, "Seventh year, transferred from Durmstrang with my two chaps here, Berk Yorgus and Roland Crieves. I'll be Gryffindor's new Seeker when tryouts come around. I learned from Viktor Krum himself."

Draco didn't recognize them, which didn't surprise him at the least for he paid no attention during the Welcome Feast and Sorting Ceremony.

"How's your dad doing?" Killian sneered, eyes on Draco with visibly fake concern plastered all over his face, "He alright falling from riches to rags in Azkaban?"

Draco's nostrils flared at the condescending mention of his father. Anger started to boil from the pit of his stomach as he clenched his fists tightly.

"Yeah, I know who are you are, mate," Killian said, narrowing his eyes on Draco, "The infamous Draco Malfoy, Death Eater-"

"Ex-Death Eater, now sod off Culver," Ginny interrupted, "We were here first."

Draco glanced at Ginny from the corner of his eye, internally surprised that she had come to his defense without hesitation.

"So? You've been hogging the pitch all morning. Run along now," Killian said, shooing them with his hand, "We've got our own training to do."

"Let's go, Malfoy," Ginny said after a moment of scowling at her fellow Gryffindor. She picked up her bag and her broomstick from the grass.

"What? No-" Draco protested. He did not want to stand down from a fight, not especially two a Gryffindor and two Hufflepuffs.

"I just remembered that I've got to meet up with Luna about an assignment before lunch, anyway," Ginny said dismissively. She then lowered her voice so that only Draco could hear, "And you know full well you can't be acting up with the Ministry breathing down your back."

Draco clenched his teeth. She was right. He'd already had enough of the constraints the Ministry had on him and to have them even more domineering over his business if he acted out of place would be even more maddening. With a growl, he picked up his bag and broomstick as well.

"You best keep a wary eye on your back, Culver," Draco threatened, glowering at the other young man, "Don't ever speak of my father in that insufferable manner again."

He felt a hand grab his arm and saw that Ginny was adamantly pulling him away from a potential brawl. Draco heatedly tore his arm away from her grip, too angry to say anything but in his right mind enough to know backing down for now was in his best interest. He followed Ginny to the pathway that led back up to the castle.

"See you at tryouts, Weasley!" Ginny heard Killian call after her. She didn't bother acknowledging his taunt and continued to walk.

"Word is they were expelled from Durmstrang," Ginny said, scoffing and breaking the silence, "Ironic that they were sorted into Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, don't you think?"

Draco snorted, but didn't reply. They continued in silence again for the remainder of the walk back up the stone steps.

"I have to ask; why did you agree to help me train?" Ginny asked after observing him for a brief moment as they walked, "To be quite honest, I was expecting you to shoot me down the second I asked you."

Draco shrugged, anger from their altercation with Killian Culver still boiling in him. He was not in the mood for any conversation.

"I've got nothing better to do being trapped in this blasted school," he said curtly. Ginny seemed to have taken his answer as satisfactory as she didn't question him any further.

"Well, thank you again for taking the time," Ginny said, "I'll see you next Saturday, in the afternoon?"

"Fine," Draco replied and they parted ways at the entrance of the school without another word.

Hello! Thank you so much for reading the second chapter of this slowly going-but going- story of mine. I'm still currently working on what direction I'd like to take this, but rest assured, it will be going somewhere. I introduced my own original characters into this story, but I'd like to say that they were created just for it and to be used as devices.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review with any constructive criticism or comments because I'm most definitely open to any feedback! And receiving any and all feedback would greatly encourage me to keep writing and to improve. :)

Until next time~