Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns every bit of the Harry Potter universe. I simply borrow her settings and characters for entertainment :0)
AN: All of your reviews are greatly appreciated! I am ecstatic from the responses I've received. Each and every one of you has helped and encouraged me so much, I truly can't thank you enough. Cheers to you all!
Also, I realized that the color of jasper does not just consist of green but can be many other colors as well, but just so we're clear, Grizelle's eyes are a greenish hue that I'll be referring to as jasper, or jade. Another thing, I've done some thorough digging and am basing their class schedules off of the data I've found so just know that it's all done as well as I can and to the best of my knowledge. I've only tweaked it a little bit from the lack of information. I'm just pointing this out because apparently Draco's first period potions class includes both first and second years and I don't want anyone ripping my head off in case the info I've found is incorrect. Anyway, we're off with chapter four.
Teacher's Pet
Chapter Four
Hermione Granger was completely famished due to the fact that all she had eaten today was a bit of bread with butter and rice pudding when she'd made her quick trip down to the kitchens to fetch something for Grizelle to eat. A house-elf named Mimpey had insisted that he'd make her a more substantial lunch but Hermione politely declined, ever distraught about the rights and treatment of the kind creatures. Even though S.P.E.W. was no more, she made a note to infuse some of her own state of mind to the students later on to remember to be thankful and courteous.
The professors were asked to gather at the base of the Grand Staircase before the Start-of-Term feast. Even Professor Trelawney, who had previously always chosen to exclude herself from the function, would be attending this year. Hermione was on her way down the corridor on the first floor. For this occasion she had chosen to wear her wine-colored cloak, wanting to exude her Gryffindor pride with a reddish hue. Underneath, her long-sleeved, relatively simple black gown skimmed her feet which were adorned in short black kitten heels. She also wore black tights. The top of her gown was high-cut, covering her neck in a ruffled Victorian-era style. The burgundy buttons on her cloak attached together at the front, resembling a pea-coat. Lastly, she had braided her hair at the base of her head in a smooth plait that fell to the side in front of her shoulder. Her locks had grown so long they reached down to her belly.
She made it down the staircase and was greeted welcomingly by everyone; Pomona Sprout, Aurora Sinistra, Filius Flitwick, Septima Vector, Sybill Trelawney, Bathsheda Babbling, Magnus Berg, the Headmistress, as well as a new face she'd never met. Hermione shook her hand. The woman introduced herself as Leslie Wilson who was the recently appointed Muggle Studies Professor. She had short dark hair that framed her face nicely and reached a bit past her chin. She also had tawny brown skin that complimented her warm, honey hazel eyes. Right off the bat Hermione had a distinct feeling she was going to get along with Leslie. Briefly looking around she noticed that a particular light-haired wizard was not currently present.
"Okay Professors, it is almost seven o'clock! The students will be here at any moment." McGonagall proclaimed. "Now, I've asked Professor Malfoy to greet the older, returning students along with Madam Hooch and Mr. Filch. Rubeus Hagrid will, as usual welcome the first years along on the boats and up to the Receiving Hall, where I will naturally receive them, as is my tradition."
After all this, and finally giving it great thought, Hermione had a hard time imagining what Malfoy would be like with children. Thinking of him as anything like a father or an authoritative figure made her want to giggle. It hadn't occurred to her that him accepting this position would mean he had a softer, more understanding side, perhaps. He had already begun to prove this over the last twenty-four hours. It all just seemed so topsy-turvy. The hard exterior she'd long perceived was quickly crumbling apart.
The teachers entered the dining hall and awaited the festivities.
Draco had rounded up the returning students and was waving them inside as they got out of their carriages. The last of the thestral-pulled vehicles emerged, and when the door opened a familiar walnut-haired beauty exited. Her expression portrayed her as immediately surprised and delighted to see him but covered it up quickly with a passive countenance. "Draco Malfoy? Forgive my rudeness but what are you doing here?"
"Miss Greengrass, nice to see you too." He said with a grin. Astoria, although not a close companion due to difference in age, had been a fellow Slytherin and sister to Daphne Greengrass who was in his own year. He hadn't ever doubted her strikingly pretty features, which Blaise and Theo always admired and Draco wasn't naïve to her school girl crush on him. She'd often sit close by in the common room or at the Slytherin table and frequented careful glances at him which he'd caught her doing more than once. "Can't you tell she's mad for you?" he remembered Blaise asking him one random afternoon. "If I had a girl like that obsessed with me I'd quickly find my way into her knickers." Theo had said, but Draco, even though he was a hot-shot with the ladies, couldn't bring himself to use a girl just for a quick shag. He very silently wasn't the type to bed just anyone. He knew deep down he wanted a real connection but gave everyone the appearance he was a lecherous playboy.
It was true, he had allowed the rumors to spread about him and Pansy Parkinson, and so did she. Pansy had relished in the attention it got her, good and bad, anything to be thought of as the girl who'd bagged the "Prince of Slytherin". They'd make up tall-tales of lust-filled evenings sneaking off to the Astronomy Tower or fondling in an unlucky broom closet, boasting about and laughing off the false stories together, a team of fabricators. Their audiences ate it all up, but he remembered the exact moment when it had bit him in the ass; it happened in Charms class in fifth year when Pansy put her hand on Draco's thigh, slowly moving it upwards. "Maybe later we can have a replay of last night Drakey?" she had cooed in his ear, but loud enough for Granger who was sitting in front of them to hear loud and clear. It was obvious Pansy said it to provoke a reaction in the Gryffindor, knowing that she'd want to make anyone she possibly could jealous, but Granger was not jealous in the slightest. In fact, she made it known she was repulsed and growled at them to keep it out of class so as to not make everyone else vomit from disgust. Oh, Draco had secretly respected Hermione in the highest regard for that, but only sneered at her distaste. He had an image to up-keep after all.
These days, he was wishing he'd chosen another image to take on. It was just as well that Pansy soon wanted to be with Draco for real and he'd had to turn her down on several occasions. He was able to get through to her but not before completely breaking her. He was mean to her but he didn't have any other choice at that point, the damage was already done. Eventually she did get over it and they'd continued to remain friends.
Astoria daintily brushed off her cloak when her feet hit the ground. "Believe it or not, I'm the new Head of Slytherin," he admitted proudly. Her eyes widened in astonishment. "Potions Master as well."
"Wow," she breathed in amazement, truly entranced by him. "That really is excellent. Congrats to you, Draco."
"Thank you, but please refrain from referring to me by my first name. That's inappropriate now." he responded and then gestured her to go inside, cutting the conversation short. When she displayed a look that revealed his words hurt, he savagely added, "The first years will be entering soon. You'd better get inside with the rest of the students." Astoria nodded and reluctantly made her way to the main doors where Kalista Bradshaw, her best friend was waiting for her.
Draco felt a pang of guilt for being so cold to her but he hadn't wanted her to get any ideas. He definitely couldn't consider being too chummy with a student, especially a girl who evidently had feelings for him. He'd had to set the boundaries now, otherwise he'd run the risk of getting himself into troubling situations.
Hermione sat ever so patiently in her chair at the staff's table. They had all been assigned a specific seat to take and subconsciously had been glad that Malfoy was supposed to sit beside her. On her other side sat Leslie Wilson who had been making small-talk with her as the crowds of students trickled in. Apparently, Leslie had been muggle-born as well, which was one of the reasons behind her specific employment as it was an advantage. She was from the heart of London, and was about ten years older than her. The black-haired witch had a cheerful, yet sassy disposition and Hermione could tell she was a very mature person yet knew when to have fun. Having somewhat similar personalities meant she could possibly confide in her when needed, being as she'd have a strong level of understanding and relatability. She also told Hermione that she was basically her idol, being that she was one of the war heroes who'd saved them all. Suddenly, Leslie whispered into her ear. "Who is that? He looks rather yummy."
At this Hermione glanced to where she was discreetly pointing. Of course, who else but Malfoy? She cleared her throat, feeling a bit anxious. "That's the new Potions Master, Draco Malfoy. We were in the same year."
"That's Draco Malfoy?" she questioned. "Bloody hell, I hadn't imagined him to be so handsome." Did this woman live under a rock? Draco's face was frequently plastered in articles of the Daily Prophet.
He was indeed, very handsome, Hermione would give him that. He glided through the room like he owned the place. He was sporting a silvery silken waist-coast over top a long-sleeved, white dress shirt that looked like something from the middle-ages and a billowing emerald green cloak. She heard her own heartbeat pounding through her ears as their eyes locked and time seemed to stand still. After a moment she had to look away before the butterflies fluttering below got her too roused up. Leslie didn't miss the pink that stained Hermione's cheeks and curious whilst amused, decided to get more information at a later time.
Draco sat down in his seat, giving Hermione a nod in acknowledgment. All she could muster at that time was a quick nod in return as she avoided making eye contact. Malfoy turned to the Norse man next to him on the other side. "Berg," he greeted.
"Good evening," he replied.
Not two seconds later and Headmistress McGonagall was in view, leading the first years to the front of the hall. There was a chair waiting with the Sorting Hat perched atop. She asked the youngsters to stand and wait for their name to be called and she pulled out a parchment which listed them in alphabetical order by surname. The Sorting Ceremony had commenced.
"Benjamin Adams!" she called.
The young boy quietly made his way to the chair and sat down. The hat was promptly placed upon his head and a moment later, "Ravenclaw!" and applause erupted from the table of blue and bronze.
"Misty Appleby!" the girl hesitantly sat down and the hat decided, "Hufflepuff!" And there was another round of applause.
"Rusty Billings!"
"It's going to be, Gryffindor!" said the hat.
"Cheryl Cleanwell!" another Hufflepuff.
"Jace Flatbush!"
"Slytherin!"
It went on and on for a good thirty minutes, then McGonagall made her speech. It consisted of the usual bits of rules and regulations; no going into the Forbidden Forest, no swimming in the Black Lake, staying off the grounds after dark and keeping to the common rooms by ten. She then announced the four new professors, which caused a rupture of applause, and the Head Boy, Zane Rainwool from Ravenclaw, and Head Girl Ginger Smith from Hufflepuff, before allowing everyone to tuck in.
As dinner was served and enjoyed, Draco noticed something that put him on edge. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Magnus Berg with his chalice held to his mouth taking a sip and blatantly staring at his assumed object of affection. Hermione noticed as well, politely put her cup up in salutation and he responded by doing the same. Then he winked at her. Hermione gave the man a small smile, looked away and took a drink from her chalice, feeling awkward. Why did the Durmstrang men always crush on her? Was there something about her that attracted the attentions of students from the Northern European academy?
Draco selfishly wanted to avert her thoughts to him, unhappy with the Norse's flirtatious behavior and unsure from her reaction whether it was welcomed or not. "So…" he began but hadn't planned what to say so he blurted out a compliment. "You look… lovely," When she gave him a quizzical look he added, "Like a true professor."
"Oh, thanks?" she said, uncertain. Here he went again with the compliments. Did she have a sign on her back that said, "Flirt With Me"?
Draco cleared his throat, feeling slightly mortified. Magnus shifted in his chair and pushed around his roasted potatoes. The feast was soon coming to a close. Draco's plate was virtually empty and he felt full so he got up from his seat. "That's it for me. I'm heading to the dungeons."
At his surprise Hermione set her utensils down and said, "I'm finished too, actually." He gazed at her as she stood. "Goodnight, Leslie, it was truly a pleasure to meet you."
"I look forward to speaking with you again! Goodnight." Leslie replied.
Hermione followed Draco through the noisy dining area and out to the Entrance Hall, confused at herself for wanting to join him in his exit, besides truly feeling sleepy. When they reached the bottom of the staircase he whipped around to face her. "Wanted to get me alone, aye?" he said showcasing his smirk.
"Not in the slightest." She said glaring daggers at him. "I was simply done eating at the same time."
"Right, right… would have thought you'd wanted to walk with Berg." He said cautiously, examining a smudge on the floor. "He's obviously so smitten." He finished disdainfully as if there was a bad taste in his mouth. He took out his wand and 'scourgified' the eye sore upon the otherwise flawless porcelain.
At his words her eyebrow quirked up in amused confusion. "Do I actually detect a bit of jealousy?"
Gritting his teeth he said, "Please, nothing at all to be jealous of." Was he really that transparent? He was trying to be slick, getting a feel for how she felt about the situation. His emotions were getting the better of him and he wasn't sure if he could stop.
He left it at that and they just gazed at each other for a moment before she said, "Okay, then." She grasped onto the railing. "It's time to get to bed, wouldn't you say?"
"Get to bed?" Draco just couldn't help himself and moved slightly towards her, his icy demeanor washed away by a humorous countenance. "Oh, this is all so sudden." She quickly swatted his bicep.
"You foul prat, that's not what I meant." But she was lightly giggling as he gave her a gentle grin. She couldn't believe she was allowing this flirtatious banter to continue. What had gotten into her? They just kept staring at each other, unable to look away. Hermione broke the silence. "You do look…" she trailed off for a moment and reached forward, tracing the outline of a button on his waist coat. "…rather charming." She said tentatively.
At this he grabbed her arm, shocking the both of them. The horrified expression on her face was enough to make Draco want to let go, but there was something he'd wanted to say to her since he saw the ugly word etched into her yesterday and it was all he could do to stop thinking about it. "Granger, there's something…" he started but was having trouble finding the words.
"Oh, so we're back to Granger now, are we?" she interjected, a bit hurt to hear her surname from him again and not sure why.
"Damnit, just let me finish," he tried but right then the commotion from inside the dining hall was edging closer to the door and some students began trickling out. He quickly let go of her and backed away. "It'll have to wait then." He turned around, feeling stupid, and headed towards the stairs to the dungeons. "Good luck with the first day of classes."
"Y-you too!" she called after him, her hand slightly extended and missing the contact but he didn't turn back and disappeared around the corner. Hermione felt crestfallen and very eager to know what he'd needed to talk about. What on earth could he have wanted to say? She then hastily went back to her chambers, ready to take a steamy shower and for the day to finally come to a close.
She was in the library, flipping through a text she'd read through a hundred times. She was feeling quite relaxed, comfortable in her familiar school uniform. She was at peace, relishing in her natural element. No one could bother her here if she didn't want them to and only Madam Pince kept her company, shuffling through the shelves not far away from where she was sitting.
Out of nowhere, long pale hands glided across her shoulders from behind, disturbing the contentedness she was feeling, and grasped her around the neck. Suddenly she was panicking, but despite herself she found the intruder's hands to be warm to the touch, countering their icy disposition. The man's fingers firmly pressed into her flesh leaving Hermione's eyes frantically searching for the librarian who was now nowhere to be found. She wanted to cry out for help but couldn't make a sound. Her voice felt gurgled as the hands choked her, but just as quickly as they had aggressively strangled her they softened dramatically and began to pull her chin upward; causing her to reluctantly lock gazes with the slate grey orbs she had grown so accustomed to.
"Hermione," his cool voice echoed and sent a shiver running through her spine as she peered at him from upside down. His fingers traced her jawline before his thumb tenderly caressed her bottom lip. She sighed into him, fighting the feeling of repose for she was still unsure of why he was here. His warm presence smothered her, threatening to swallow her whole.
"What do you want? I don't understand!" she wailed at him but he wasn't fazed as he graced her with his smirk and smiling eyes.
"You will understand…" he whispered so quietly she almost didn't hear it. He let go of her and she quickly turned around but he was disappearing into the wall behind her. "You will…" She reached out for him but a bright white light engulfed her, the library disintegrated and she felt herself suspending in air.
Hermione awoke with a fright, briefly startling Grizelle from her spot curled up next to her feet. Her hand flew up to her neck and then to her lips, the feeling of his fingers still lingering on her from the dream. It had all felt so real. She wiped the sweat from her brow, still trying to catch her breath. Grizzy was mewling at her with concern in her jade eyes. Hermione tentatively lurched forward and smoothed out her soft fur, instantly calming and slowing her breathing. "Good kitty." she said as the cat purred.
She got ready as swiftly as possible, sadly realizing she was missing breakfast. The dream took up most of her mind making it exceedingly difficult to concentrate. She opted for the cloak she wore to the feast again, but instead of a black dress she donned a cream colored gown which nicely accented the wine hue. She slipped on black ballet flats that had a strap around her ankles and twisted her pretty curls into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck. Pleased with her appearance she headed out of her bedroom but stopped when she noticed Grizelle was following her.
"Oh, Grizzy, I'm terribly sorry about this, but it's the first day of classes! I'm not quite sure if…" she trailed off as the cat just looked at her with sadness. 'I don't see why not… taking her with me could add some levity to the classes, and she'd be able to get out of this room.' Deciding to let her tag along she said, "Alright then, you can come with me. You can assist me by getting my students interested in what I have to say." With a chirp of approval Grizelle left with her master.
She had forgotten that her schedule was rather bleak. Her first and only class for Monday was with Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years. Most had seemed excited as they entered the recently enlarged room, but there were the few who looked like they could care less if they were there or not. Many of the Gryffindors greeted her and she recognized them all from living with them in the common room the previous year. As they sat down most of the children gazed at Grizelle with interest while she lounged on the desk, happily whipping her tail around and observing each of them with equal curiosity.
Hermione rose from her seat, receiving complete attention from the students. She prepared herself to speak. "Greetings fifth years, you may refer to me as Professor Granger. This beautiful creature on my desk," she gestured towards Grizzy. "Is my familiar, Grizelle."
"Can we pet her?" one of the females from Slytherin called out.
"She is very friendly, but I warn you that she is extremely intuitive and can sense if you are afraid or have malicious intentions, so I'd advise you to keep this in mind. Also, while I am teaching it is very important that when you have a question or want to say something that you raise your hand until you are called upon, are we clear?" she replied sternly. The girl nodded her head and Hermione smiled, letting it go. She wanted to lay the ground rules but didn't want to come off as a mean spinster. She was after all, not much older than them, her twentieth birthday being around the corner.
"Now, I'd like everyone to go around the room, one at a time and introduce yourself with your first and last name as well as sharing a hobby or subject that you favor. Are there any questions?" This wasn't a usual type of thing to be done in Hogwarts classes but Hermione grew up doing this in grade school and figured it wouldn't hurt to get to know the students and their names.
They shook their heads and Hermione pointed to the Slytherin girl who'd asked about Grizzy out of turn, making her share first as a light punishment. "Guinevere Turner, Professor, but I prefer to be called Gwen. My favorite hobby is practicing charms and fiddling with certain spells. I'd like to have my own charms taught in school one day."
"Ah, that's a lovely goal, Miss Turner." Hermione replied and Gwen looked very pleased with herself.
The boy next to her, another Slytherin said, "Fritz Horning, ma'am, and my favorite hobby is Quidditch."
"Very fun sport," she offered, although she found it a bit boorish when talked about she always did enjoy rooting for her friends as they played. She looked on to the next table. It was another boy's turn, this time a Gryffindor.
"Dusty Billings, ma'am," he started politely with a thick Irish accent. She recognized the name from last night's sorting. He must be Rusty's older brother. "I also love Quidditch but my favorite subject is Herbology."
"That's excellent, Mr. Billings." She said.
"Maggie Blume, Professor Granger," the Gryffindor next to him stated. "And my most favorite subject is Potions." This answer somewhat surprised Hermione and a memory of her dream flashed in her mind but quickly pushed it away.
"Tricky trade, even I occasionally struggled with a recipe or two."
Introductions went on and on until they had all finished. Hermione clasped her hands together as she took a few steps around the front of the class.
"I noticed that none of your favorite classes are History of Magic," she said and Gwen raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Turner?"
"With all due respect, Professor Granger, the previous instructor was immensely boring." She admitted and the whole class roared in laughter. At the mention of Cuthbert Binns Hermione grimaced and motioned with her hands for them to quiet down.
"Yes, yes, yes, I am well aware of the… methods in which Mr. Binns taught. I am hoping to change your opinions of our history with a more lively and involved way of going about things. In your fifth year, you're required to learn all about the Giant Wars which transpired decades before and up to the turn of the twentieth century. You will be tested on these rather gruesome conflicts on your O.W.L.S at the end of the year, as well as all sorts of things you've learned in this class in past years."
The students seemed none too thrilled about the mention of O.W.L.S but were glad for the young, new teacher. "Although, considering the changes we've all went through in recent years, we will first study the basics of the infamous battle that transpired here at our own school, which I know most, if not all of you were present for. Therefore, by the end of next week I'd like you to hand in a complete foot-and-a-half long essay on the subject." The students perked up even more from realizing they'd be able to learn and share about the Battle of Hogwarts but inwardly groaned about the essay. There was also still some animosity about the event, for a lot of them had lost family and friends but none of them protested the new professor.
"Now, I'd like you all to take out your new editions of Hogwarts, A History and turn to page six-hundred and twenty nine."
The students complied and just when Hermione thought she was getting somewhere a disturbance of the worst kind materialized. Cuthbert Binns rudely floated in through the black board in which Hermione was facing, having been about to write on the surface. She shrieked in shock as he moved right through her and her frightfulness soon turned to utter annoyance at the ghoul. Some students gasped in horror while the rest of them laughed at the hilarious interruption. Grizelle let out a low growl at the intruding spirit.
"Mr. Binns!" she cried. "I told you before, you –"
"Sorry I'm late, Professor," he wailed sarcastically in a sing song voice, traveled to the corner of the room and slumped himself down in an empty chair next to one of the Gryffindors. "Now, what have I missed?"
"Are you serio –" She stopped herself before she erupted like a volcano and sighed. "Mr. Binns, I told you I would not allow this foolish behavior!" she said in her most serious tone.
"But Miss Grant, I just want to be given the chance to learn like everyone else!" he wailed sadly. Hermione smacked her forehead as her students continued to giggle.
"You are just going to be a distraction. Please, exit the classroom before I take severe action."
Unfortunately, what type of severe action could she take? He was just a ghost, residually fated to travel the corridors and classrooms of Hogwarts forever, for all she knew.
"Please?" he cried, and there actually seemed to be tears forming at his eyes. The children looked wistfully at the ghost before the Gryffindor next to him raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Criswell?" Hermione asked, trying not to break down in frustration.
"I mean no disrespect, Professor, but speaking for myself I have to say I really don't mind if Mr. Binns joins the class."
Hermione thought for a moment before saying, "Alright, then how does the rest of the class feel?"
The students looked around at each other and then turned back to their teacher, some of them speaking simultaneously. "I don't mind," one said. "It's okay," said another and the rest of them shrugged, probably indifferent to the situation.
"Fine," she replied through clenched teeth, feeling defeated. "But, Mr. Binns, you have to promise you will not cause any distractions and will give the students this time to learn like they all deserve. If you promise me, you may sit during class. Do we have a deal?"
Mr. Binns nodded his head fervently and muttered a quiet, "Ah, yes, I promise."
"That's great, then." She let out another, deep sigh and turned back to the black board. "As I was going to begin with before, to get to the Battle of Hogwarts we have to go back years and years to when it all started, when a particular wizard attended Hogwarts for the first time in 1938. His name, as you probably know, was Tom Marvolo Riddle…"
Down in the dungeons, Draco's class wasn't nearly as eventful. First period consisted of both first and second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He went through the rules and requirements to inform his first years who'd obviously never attended a class at Hogwarts before. Some of them appeared to be scared shitless, but others seemed to drink in every word. He had a regal air about him as he spoke, his aristocratic nature coming through as he strode around the room.
"It is easy to see that I indeed differ from your previous instructor, but you will find that I'm just as pertinent, yet patient, and stern but fair." He proclaimed. "There are a few things I have no patience for though, and that is interrupting me without asking or waiting to be called upon, distracting your fellow peers," he then grabbed a note one of the second year Hufflepuffs was scribbling on his desk as he walked by. "And not giving me your undivided attention." he finished as he crumpled it up in his hand and gave a severe look at the second year. The boy audibly gulped.
"Now, to start out I'd like all of the first years to open your texts to page thirty-two and write down all of the types of cauldrons as well as types of vials. Study them well, please. Second years, you'll be learning the etymology, history and brewing instructions of a potion today that we unfortunately won't be developing practically yet, specifically the Wiggenweld Potion. You can find this all on pages ninety-six to one-hundred and one."
All of the children opened their books without any qualms and he stepped around his desk. "If you have any questions, please do not refrain from asking me. Understood, class?"
A few of them said "Yes, sir" and "Yes, Professor" and the rest of them nodded viciously, but silently. He smiled and sat back in his seat. He combed his long hair with his fingers. He couldn't believe he'd let it get down to his shoulders, but he rather liked it this way. It gave him more of a rugged look, or at least so he liked to think. He pulled it back in a small knot with a few strands loose in the front, framing his face. He had a pair of tortoise-shell glasses, which he'd prefer the less people who knew that, the better. He only used them for reading anyway, and in the past he never wore them because he didn't want anyone thinking he was some kind of… some kind of, well, book-worm he guessed. His mind drifted to Granger as he opened up his curriculum, but pushed the thought of her away as he memorized the syllabus for the next class: fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins.
The rest of Professor Granger's class went as breezily as possible. The students were genuinely interested and actually listened to her. They asked many questions and were polite and considerate for the remainder of the double period. Mr. Binns had been relatively quiet, only offering an opinion or comment here and there. All in all, he hadn't necessarily bothered her much. She wasn't sure what she should do with all of the spare time today. It was a bit depressing; she only had a class or two a day. Technically, there could have been a class today for sixth and seventh year N.E.W.T students, but none of them had wanted to bother with taking History of Magic this year, and she didn't blame them, all things considered.
Hermione made a decision. She would owl certain students who placed with an 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher in their O.W.L.S and offer them to take the class if any of them had time. She was getting the hang of this teaching thing, getting a natural euphoria from being able to relay information to children and have them retain the information. It was a feeling of completion she never got to have before, to be the instructor instead of the student, and she found she was learning even more about herself than she thought possible. It was riveting.
After heading to the Headmaster's Tower with Grizelle and asking the Headmistress for the O.W.L.S scores, McGonagall complied as well as offered Hermione a cup of tea, wanting to know how her first day went. Hermione accepted and they chit chatted for a few minutes while the Headmistress cooed over and petted the kitty. She told the elderly woman about her students and how Mr. Binns had caused quite the commotion. McGonagall sympathized with her but reassured her not to give up. She had a feeling it would all eventually get through to the stubborn ghost.
Hermione made it back to her chambers with her cat in one piece. She quickly, but neatly wrote up several letters of invitations for her N.E.W.T level classes but wasn't able to finish by lunch time so she decided to complete them all that night and send them out early in the morning. She left Grizelle, who seemed perfectly fine with staying in the room this time, and headed down to the Great Hall to get a bite to eat. She wanted to stop by the library afterwards to see if she could find out where she'd heard the name of her kitty before. It was seriously beginning to get to her.
She made it to the dining hall. It always seemed wherever she roamed students pointed and stared, no doubt because she was recognized for her role in the famed battle almost two years prior. Hermione found it rather funny that she and Draco had been accepted for their instructor's posts, because usually witches and wizards weren't accepted to teach without at least three years life experience after graduation. She figured they'd had enough "life experience" to equal up to three years and that's why they were ultimately hired.
Magnus Berg was sitting in a chair at the staff's table and Hermione immediately felt nervous as she sat down in the seat beside him. He already had a plate full of food, garnished with Cornish pasties, a roast chicken sandwich with bacon and sprouts on the side. It appeared to be somewhat appetizing and Hermione slightly mimicked the man, grabbing a chicken sandwich, adding bacon to it and putting some sprouts on her plate. Alas, like Ron, breakfast had always been her favorite meal, though.
"Hello, Hermione," Berg greeted her as he shoveled in some sprouts. Hermione tried not to notice how very like a certain Weasley he resembled, minus the outward appearance of course. "How has your first day been?"
"It's going swimmingly, with only minor hiccups, I'd say, how about you?"
"Let's see, this morning I had sixth and seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins, then I had first year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs who were very tiny, adorable people. Then I had a free period before now. I'm definitely enjoying it, so far." He told her in between bites.
Hermione lightly nibbled on her sandwich, used to the men in her life acting like wild animals. Hey, when you were hungry, you were hungry. "Yes, I'm enjoying it very much." She said.
Magnus finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on his napkin before turning to her. "So, the potions bloke," he started. "Is he your boyfriend?"
Oh, god. Did he really have to go and ask her that? Durmstrang men really weren't the type to tip-toe around these kinds of things, were they? She flushed red, cursing the fact that she was made to blush so often the last couple of days. "Um, no, he's not," she replied. "He's just my, erhm, well my colleague, you know? We went to school here together." He seemed to approve that they weren't an item.
"Oh, I am aware you both attended school together." He replied, ignoring her mortified stammering. "I suppose I'm more concerned of the fact that he was a Death Eater. Didn't you fight against him in the war? Doesn't that make things… strange?" It seemed Magnus had done his homework.
Hermione wasn't sure what to tell him. She mulled over the things she could say. "Well, indeed it made things strange, at first." She began, knowing full well things were still strange. "We both returned to complete our schooling last year and I have to confirm, he's seemed to truly… redeem himself, thus far."
"Huh." Was his response as he finished off his plate and set his utensils down. "Well, Hermione, you know if there's ever a problem, I'd like it if you sought help in me. I can protect you, although, I am sure you can protect yourself well enough. I just needed you to know that." He wiped his chin with the napkin as she squirmed in her seat at his words.
"Ah, okay, thanks." She said to be polite, but he came across to her as quite presumptuous. Then he put his hand over hers and squeezed it.
"I'm serious, you know. Anything you need, anything at all," he gave her an eager look that reminded her of the look he'd given his sandwich moments earlier.
"Right then," she pulled her hand away, feeling very uncomfortable and stood up without finishing her meal. "Well, I'm off. I've um, got things to do."
Hermione left the Great Hall in a rush, feeling as if the walls were caving in on her. She had to get out of there or she was going to pass out. She needed the safety of her books, the peace of the library. When she made it to the library she waved to Madam Pince and made her way towards a promising section, got a stack of texts together and sat down in a faraway corner away from prying eyes.
AN: Wow, there we go. A whopping 12 and a quarter pages long, that chapter. I PROMISE there will be more Dramione moments in the next chapter. Also, I'm still trying to come up with a better title for this fic. I'm sure I'll eventually think of something. I really hope you are enjoying this for what it is! I am having so much fun writing it! Please let me know how you like it so far. I have A LOT more scenes and ideas I'm setting into motion for the plots to keep you interested. Thank you all so much for your time! Cheers!