A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I've updated... but have you ever tried to build a 3d model, environment, and texture in under three weeks? I was goign through hell-- and I even started early. Needless to say, I've been extremely busy, but taht isn't enough to stop me from posting to my wonderful few faithful readers! Thanks again for giving this story a chance! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything but Naima...

Chapter Six: Against the Grain

Naima stood at the Head of the table, looking down at all of her pupils, smiling. She was wondering how they would take the news of the uniform change. Hopefully, they would be just as ecstatic as she was. So when she announced the vote for colors, the entire Great Hall erupted in whispers—which, hilariously, was not limited to just the students.
"Naima! Are you sure?"
"There must be a rule against this!"
"Wow…this is going to be fun!" At least the reaction wasn't hands down bad. Many of the female students seemed excited, but there were still some who had looks of disgust on their faces. Others just gaped.
"I'm sure that this must be an exciting announcement. And, of course, I will respect the wishes of both students and faculty. There will be a vote, and only one vote per person. Should the majority rule for a uniform change, the option to wear black is still open and the vote for color choice amongst the departments would be held.
"The vote will start tomorrow night at 6pm. And don't try to trick the pot or you might get a surprise!" she winked and laughed heartily. "Oh, and I would also like to mention that if I catch any more fist fighting amongst students, I can come up with some rather nasty punishments. So, be good, and don't forget to vote!" She grinned and took a seat. The animated chatter in the hall didn't die down until the children and professor left for their lessons.
Once she had finished eating, Naima left the table for her office. As soon as she was outside the Great Hall, she was bombarded by a mob of students.
"Are you really going to change the uniforms?" asked a male fifth-year.
"Can you really do that?" came the voice of a bouncing Hufflepuff girl.
"Can we pick which colors?" Another girl, from Slytherin was grinning from ear to ear.
"The colors will be limited to your house colors. However, they may be any shade of that color, if you want. Of course, I haven't finished drawing up the plans, and the uniform change is not required, nor will be in effect until next term. If you have anymore questions…"
"This is so COOL!" The Hufflepuff grinned. "Why didn't they do this a long time ago?"
"But won't the Board of Governors be angry about this?"
"They can't tell me how to run the school, young man. So, please, tell me your names."
"Heather Klopsy!" The Hufflepuff said.
"Marcus Keen," claimed the boy.
"Margaret Black." Naima smiled down at all of them and nodded.
"You three can be the committee on the project. I needed some students to let me know what the rest of the student population really thinks about the change."
"You mean spy?" Ms. Black smirked.
"No," Naima sighed exasperatedly, "…not spy. Just let me know if they have any questions or anything. I'd love to know."
"No problem!"
"You can count on us!" Heather waved as the three walked away.

"Enlisting the help of children, are we?"
"Why are you always hanging around? Don't you have lessons to plan?"
"Nope… all done for this month."
"Then what do you want?"
"I just want to talk, Mistress." Naima narrowed her eyes.
"About what?" she asked as she started towards her office.
"You really aren't the most accessible person." Naima chose not to respond to that one. "You really should learn to lighten up."
"Oh really? Most here would consider me to be a little too easy going."
"Well, I'm not most. Besides, I like that mischievous grin you rewarded us when you made the announcement." Naima stopped and turned to face him. His cerulean eyes were dancing wildly and a small smirk played on the corners of his mouth.
"You're not hitting on me, Zabini." She said flatly. It wasn't a question: it was a statement.
"Oh, why would you say something like that, Headmistress?"
"Don't play coy with me. Your charm won't work on me. If there's something you want , spit it out. Don't lube me up with your sweet nothings." She normally wouldn't be so bold around anyone here, but she found that she could be as uncouth and rude when speaking with the mischief-maker.
"I've already mentioned that I'd get fired if I actually told you. Besides, I've never needed any lube to get the job done." Naima blinked in surprise. She was hoping that her lewd remarks would scare him off. She should have anticipated that he would only take the bait.
"Don't you have somewhere you ought to be, Zabini?"
"You always instigate this game of cat and mouse and then you run away with your tail between your legs when it gets a bit heavy. You need someone to knock the cobwebs off; you know, dust every now and then." And Naima was utterly shocked, then. When he saw that he had caught her off guard again, he couldn't suppress a grin.
"You should close your mouth, Headmistress." He said, giving her the dirtiest glance of which she had ever been on the receiving end. And with that, he walked off, cool as ever.
Naima was left standing there, mouth agape. What the hell was that? Why was he being so flirtatious just now? And why was she getting so warm?

Naima woke the next morning to a strange, shrill sound. Annoyed, she tossed the sheets and blankets off her legs and stood. Groggily making her way to the steps that led downstairs to her office, she noticed the erratic sound rising and falling, almost drowning out the sound of rustling paper.
Naima made her way down, yawning and scratching her side. What the hell was all the commotion so early in the morning? Why the hell was anyone in her office at this time? Surely, if anyone did, the English would be respectful enough to wait until a decent hour before calling.
When she made it to her office, she was shocked to find hundreds of owls hooting and darting back and forth, messing up her papers and leaving droppings all over her floors. Angry, she shouted, "Silencio!" The noise immediately died and the birds settled a bit. Glaring at them accusatorily, she made her way to the one nearest her and bit out a set of instructions. "Alright, everyone. Line up and show me some leg. There's got to be a good reason why you've got me up so early."

About an hour and a half later, Naima was sick of reading all of the letters. Most of them were from apprehensive or downright disgruntled parents who were concerned about the uniform change. After conjuring some food for the owls, she organized the letters alphabetically and made a mental note to personally write each and everyone of them back. It would take days, but she was keen on personally reassuring them.
"Seems like you have quite a mess on your hands." Naima looked up to see her Pa-Pa's eyes glittering merrily at her.
"Oh, no gloating! I'm going to go insane writing all these people back."
"You don't have to write everyone. You could just work on convincing those who are only slightly apprehensive about it."
"I could…but I want those against me to know that I appreciate their opinions as well. If I can reach them, I'm sure I can win a few hearts over." Her grandfather seemed lost in thought.
"Perhaps."
"Besides! You know me: I love stirring up trouble!"
"I can only imagine what the Board of Governors will do."
"Oh, I'm sure they'll be here any moment." Naima waved him away. Just then, a house elf, Blinky, she thought it's name was, popped in and curtsied.
"The Board of Governers is here to see you Headmissus," Naima smirked and conjured a stack of papers over to her.
"Please, let them in, Blinky."
"Yes, missus."
"You really do seem to enjoy your fair share of mischief."
"Call it a familial trait."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Cullings, Monsier Buvet, Madame Galante, and Senior Guillemen. I trust you had a safe journey, today?"
"What is the meaning of this!" The old woman with gray hair stormed up to her and shoved a Daily Prophet paper in her face.
"The media knew about this before I did." She huffed. "Imagine waking to hundreds of owls screeching and defecating on your priceless furniture. I thought we were clear that if there were any mess-ups…"
"Mess- ups? No, no, Madame. Please, have a seat while I conjure some tea." And Naima brought out her wand—something that she rarely did in front of anyone, and conjured a nice table set for five.
"Blinky," she called. Almost immediately, a house-elf popped out of nowhere.
"Yes, Missus?"
"Please alert the elves that the Board of Governors will be joining us for dinner."
"Yes, Missus," the ugly but sweet little thing tipped its head and curtsied right before it disappeared with a pop.
"You aren't going to woo us with your charm, Dumbledore." Madame Galante seemed to be the head of the Board.
"I wasn't intending on doing that at all, Madame Galante. In fact, I was only hoping in making you much more comfortable as you give your opinion on my first project."
"First?" She was absolutely scandalized.
"Yes, Madame. But you were going to give me your reason why the uniforms should remain black."
"Why, yes! For tradition if nothing else! I can't believe you would have the audacity to come here and change things that have a history older than your bloodline!"
"Older than my bloodline, Madame? It isn't in anyone's best interest to begin discussing bloodlines. But to answer your position of upholding tradition, it isn't enough to keep me from changing my mind."
"Excuse me?"
"I only think this change will bring some more spirit into this school. The darkness of England's history is hidden in these walls and I plan to flush it out. It is, in a word, depressing. I feel like everyone's still in mourning sometimes. And while I am all for upholding tradition when able, Madame, these kids need something else to occupy their time.
"How many here have lost parents, siblings, and friends to the war? How many are still indirectly affected by it today? Now is a time to move forward. I plan on bringing life back to Hogwarts. I intend to create a happy atmosphere for our children to thrive. I'm not talking about dismantling the House organization or pacifying our children with too much free time or anything like that. I only want them to be able to express themselves in any way they want while adhering to most of the rules that have already been laid down by our Four Founders." Silence ensued.
"Seems like you already had a speech prepared for us." Said Monsieur Buvet.
"No, it's what I truly feel. I am very passionate about this, and I I have already outweighed the good and bad that comes with these small changes. Regardless, the choice is in the hands of the students, now. I have already made the announcement and there will be a vote tomorrow night."
"You really won't budge on this?"
"No, I will not. I think the children deserve a small treat. And regardless of what the result is, the children will wear their black uniforms until next term and will still have the option to wear black."
"What about the jewelry policy?"
"I will not change that for the simple fact that body adornment can get in the way when doing potions." Madame Galante seemed to calm down a bit after hearing that one.
"Now, is there anything else you wanted me to cover?" she asked. Everyone was silent.
"You said there were more plans?" Monsieur Buvet asked.
"I don't know whether or not I feel like employing them, but I can assure you that Hogwarts will continue to offer the best magical education in the known world and I can assure you that none of he changes will affect the education received here. In fact, they just might improve it. However, I realize that having left you out on my plans may have put you off. I do not wish to clash heads with you, Governors, I know that you have been here much longer and know more about this school than anyone alive. I want to work with you, include you on the various things I plan on doing at Hogwarts.
I intend to, from now on, include you in all of my plans. Each and every one of you will have your say as I find that I cannot do everything on my own and having other minds increases our success in creating the best learning environment for England's children." The Madame was still bristling with anger, but the rest seemed placated by her words.
"That is acceptable." Nodded Monsieur Buvet.
"Very well, then, I have these concerned parents to attend to, if you do not mind." She nodded. They all said a stiff goodbye before being led out of her office by a perplexed house elf.
Monsieur Buvet hesitated just outside the door.
"Perhaps the England air isn't agreeing with you. You seem a bit pale." Namia immediately blushed. "Yes, I have been coming down with a little something."
"No matter, it isn't something magic can't cure. Be sure to keep up with your health you don't want to have succeeded in keeping your job just to lose it to a simple sickness." Naima was grateful for the concern.
"Thank you, Monsieur Buvet."
"You may call me Peter."
"Very well, then Peter, you may call me Naima." He nodded.
"We will be in contact with you soon. Good day." Naima turned back to the large stack of papers on her desk.

"Still at it, I see." Naima looked up just as Zabini stepped through the door with his hands around the collars of to frumpy-looking boys. Naima sat back in her chair and put down her quill.
"Of course, Professor. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Always, Headmistress." He sat the two boys down in the chairs in front of her desk and stood between them.
"I caught these two trying to sneak into the girl's bathroom on the third floor." Naima closed her eyes and rubbed her brows.
"The girl's bathroom?"
"Moaning Myrtle's." Naima gave him a look that indicated that she had no idea what he was talking about, so he elaborated.
"It's a bathroom generally avoiding by the student population. So at first, I thought these boys were trying to sneak a peek. But then I thought that if there were no girls, what would they be doing in the room? I followed them and found a little setup in the bathroom."
"Setup?"
"They have been brewing a very dangerous potions on their spare time, it would seem." She looked at the boys who seemed to be no older than fifteen. Unremarkable, they were, and she could only hazard a guess as to what it was they were brewing."
"What sorts of potions, Professor?" She asked, but the one on the right, with his red hair wild and his grey eyes wide broke out in a sweat.
"I swear I was going to turn it in for extra credit! I wasn't going to use it on anyone!"
"Y-yeah! I was just going to see what it smelled like to me."
"VERY dangerous love potions, Headmistress." Naima stood and planted her hands on the desk, leaning forward, alternately staring into the eyes of the little pipsqueaks.
"I'll have none of this in my school. Putting someone under a love enchantment robs them of their own free will and makes you no better than a Death Eater who's wand happy with his Unforgivables!" The boys visibly paled. Even Zabini seemed a little shocked.
"You have detention until the end of next month, understood?"
"Yes, Headmistress Dumbledore." the chimed in unison.
"I want you to go back to your dormitories and think about what is that you were about to do. Do you know what that is boys?"
"No, Headmistress."
"It's a little something called enslavement. Something that's generally condemned in our time. Do you know what we call it in America if any sexual acts have been peformed?" Zabini's mouth hung open while the boys' eyes rounded like saucers.
"We call it rape. Would you like to consider yourselves rapists, boys?" They shook their heads violently.
"I would never…"
"We would never…"
"Then you must understand that forcing anyone to drink a love potion is very cowardly." She glared down the bridge of her nose at them. "I want 10 feet of parchment on the controversy surrounding love potions with excerpts of victims accounts and feelings about it. I want it one week from today."
"Yes, Headmistress Dumbledore."
"I trust you confiscated all of the ingredients, Professor." Zabini quickly closed his mouth and nodded.
"Then the two of you may leave." They were gone in the blink of an eye. Naima turned back to her letters, curling her quill to create that tiny, neat little script of hers.
"Don't you think you were a little harsh?"
"I've been getting that a lot lately."
"Might I inquire as to what incited your ire so?"
"Speak English, Zabini."
"Why were you so angry? It was just a love potion."
"We don't consider it 'just a love potion' where I'm from. It's a criminal offense. Wizards there love to use it on unsuspecting Muggles. Some tried to slip me one once. It's cowardly and offensive. I want them to know how wrong it is to place anyone under any enchantment that bends their free will."
"You're strange you know that."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"What are you so bitter about?" Naima's quill slid across the parchment, marring her beautiful letter. Frowning, she grabbed her carnelian stone.
"First Malfoy, now you. Can't handle a woman with a little bite?"
"I can handle you just fine, princess." Naima snorted.
"Then what are you so offended by? The fact that I don't melt over your accent like your fourth years?" Zabini leaned back in his chair and crosses his arms.
"Ouch."
"Ouch? Did I bruise your ego? Didn't think myself capable."
"Okay, what's gotten your knickers in a twist?" He observed her.
Her skin was flushed, her brow forming beads of sweat. She seemed completely unaware of her physical state and he wondered if she just wasn't used to the weather here. He almost chose to ignore it, however. Most women didn't want to hear a guy tell them when they looked like they were sick, i.e. shit.
"Let's steer clear of any conversation concerning my knickers, please." Naima pulled out some fresh parchment and proceeded to copy the letter she'd just messed up. Zabini got up and strode over to her and stood over her shoulder. After reading her letter, he felt a twinge of pity.
"Are you alright? You seem a bit pink. You aren't getting sick, are you?"
"Are you still here, Zabini?" Blaise smiled and clamped his hands down on her shoulder and proceeded to massage her.

Naima's first reaction was to knee him in the baby-makers when she felt him touch her, but once his hands started applying pressure in just the right places and kneading her tense muscles, she all but melted.
Letting the quill slide out of her hand, she closed her eyes and dropped her head, knowing that Zabini was probably grinning from ear to ear. Massages had always been her weakness. Especially when they--
She let out a slow sigh. He had started on the muscles near her spine, working his way down her back, kneading and rubbing with firm pressure. Of course, he wasn't as good as the professionals, but for an amateur he was amazing. As he continued his ministrations, she wondered when it was alright for anyone-- let alone him-- to touch her. She had always been a fairly private person, never hugging or touching anyone. And she absolutely abhorred any kind of affectionate touching in public areas. This was why she always turned down any massages from her coworkers and opted for the cold detachment of the spas.
As he moved his way back up her spine and to her shoulders again, she bit back another sigh. There was no need to hear her exhaling like that-- he would no doubt make something of it. When he finished, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "As much as I enjoyed that, I daresay it would have been much more enjoyable for the both of us if you didn't have a blouse on." Naima blushed and leaned forward so he was no longer so close to her. She looked up to her Grandfather's portrait, relieved that he had run off on some errand. The rest of the portraits were looking down at them, completely scandalized. Naima cleared her throat.
"Right, er…thank you." Zabini leaned back and looked down at her, smiling mischievously because she was unaware that this position awarded him such a wonderful view of her assets.
"Well, I'm off to class, Headmistress. If there's anything you need, you know where I'll be." Naima swallowed hard and then nodded, watching him go. When the door closed behind him she slumped down in her chair and covered her face with her robes. She couldn't believe what had transpired. Had she been so lonely that she would actually allow someone-- Zabini in particular-- to get the best of her?

Dinner that night went exceptionally well. She had to alert her Prefects and Heads of an upcoming meeting, smiling as people darted back and forth between a charmed pot that collected their votes. Once or twice, she saw the pot spit a vote back out and slap the student in the head. She inwardly snickered. She told them not to trick the pot. When she sat down to eat, she was surprised to find Zabini sitting beside her. Was he sitting a little too close or was it in her mind?
"Good evening Professor."
"Good evening Headmistress." He said, looking out amongst the crowd. She sighed and magicked her favorite foods onto her plate. Zabini stared at her, eyebrows raised.
"I don't believe I've ever seen you perform magic."
"I tend to refrain from displays of ability. Unless of course, it is necessary." Zabini nodded.
"Are you going to attend the Quidditch game this Saturday." Now it was her brows that shot up to her hairline.
"Of course." He nodded. Naima was starting to get a small chill and she shuddered as the wind picked up. She looked ahead to see if anyone was taking notice. She sighed and folded her hands. They were startlingly red-- almost as is she had been washing them in hot water. She had been so busy all day, she had forgotten to take her medicine.
"You aren't getting sick, are you, cara mia?"
"Maybe." she answered before returning to her plate, loading it up with meats. If she didn't satisfy her appetite, something bad might happen. Zabini looked down at her hands, frowning. Naima grabbed the carnelian stone and silently prayed she could hold out until the end of dinner. Using a bit of wandless magic, she performed a slight concealment charm. It wouldn't be hard for someone with half an iota of intelligence to see her skin and put two and two together.
"Cara, if you're not feeling well, maybe you should retire?" Naima looked over to him and a feeling so strong settled over her. She was beginning to operate on her base instincts. If she wanted to keep her job, she would haul ass as long as she was still listening to the voice of reason.
"I think I will. I am so sorry to leave so early."
"Don't worry about it." Even Hermione seemed concerned. "We'll have some food sent up to you."
Naima bowed and left quickly, all but sprinting back to her office. As she ran up the moving stairs and burst through the office door, and up the spiral of steps to her private bedroom, she nearly knocked over everything on her desks to get to the half-open cupboard. Gulping down half her stores, she only settled when the potion began to take its effect several minutes later, her bronze skin returning. Naima sighed and laid back down on her bed and closed her eyes.
"That was a close one."
"You need to stay on top of your health, granddaughter. I don't want the enchantment to take its full effect. I don't know how we'll bring you back without having to involve someone else." Naima closed her mind to the world and emptied her thoughts one by one.
"We will find her, Grandfather, and when we do, we will kill her. I can't go on like this. I just can't."
"I know, sweetheart. Get some rest." Naima didn't even bother to take off her clothes as she curled herself into a tiny ball and succumbed to a peaceful rest.

When Naima showered the next morning, she couldn't stop staring at the silly-looking carnelian stone tied to her neck by a simple leather string. It was funny that it was what had kept her from her own insanity all these years. It was almost an intrinsic part of her now. Like another appendage of her body-- an arm or leg, perhaps. Naima held her face under the showerhead.
Although she knew that the stone was nearly a part of her, she couldn't wait to berid of it and everything it had to do with anything. She would never want to see another one in her life. And she would not, WOULD NOT, bear a child just to rid herself of this familial curse. She would bear this burden until she could find the witch who had cast it or it would die with her. She would never want to force it onto her child.
Naima shut off the water and grabbed her towel as she stepped out of the shower. She dried of her hair the muggle way and then stepped up to the mirror, wiping a streak of the fog away. Looking into the mirror she was unimpressed by what she saw. Although her face was often claimed to be one of exotic beauty, she was never once convinced. Underneath this shallow layer of skin was a monster and she would flush it out-- one way or another.
Naima took the comb to her hair and watched as it conformed into the tiny ringlets typical of the strands. She was a monster, and nothing but the death of that witch would change a damned thing about it.

Another chapter complete! Yay! I have a shit-ton of work I have to do this week, so I won't be posting any time soon. But after that I have a 1 1/2 month holdiay! Yay! I'll be writing, working, and painting my arse off this christmas (and they will all be gifts to family members 'n' stuuuuuufffff. But you guys will defnitely enjoy more chapters. Hell, I might even write a celebratory two in one two weeks from now. But yeah. If you guys like the story, please encourage me to go on. Your reviews help me out a lot and point out what's wrong or right with the story so I can make it more enjoyable for you. But I wanted to tease you with this

-there will be many more Draco/Hermione scenes... wink, wink, nudge, nudge

- You will learn about the twi's histories

-Naima begins her research into the Berserker enchantment.

-Naima and Blaise get better acquianted ;)