Chapter 11

They sat in Draco's office, at a large wooden table. It was furbished in dark green colours with some silvery touches. Tasteful, rich, dark. Precisely like its occupant. Draco had given her a parchment and a quill.

"Just write down what comes to mind for fourth-years. That would be sixth or rather seventh-years at Hogwarts," he added.

"Right," Hermione nodded. "Something difficult."

Draco looked at her as she was scribbling down various ideas. He himself leaved through the textbook her was currently using for that particular class. He stopped at one of its pages.

"We shouldn't go for the Babbling Beverage, that's for sure," Draco said chuckling. "I once thought it might be fun to try out, big mistake!"

Hermione giggled, despite herself. "I can imagine." It took hours to wear off and it didn't make for fun conversation.

"What's it like, having Snape's office?" Draco suddenly wondered. "Doesn't it feel strange somehow?"

"A little, occasionally. Apparently it was a Slytherin position for years on end," she remarked. "Snape, Slughorn."

"Quite understandably so, what with all the possibilities of creating poisons…"

"Or medicine," she retorted. "And there's room for inventiveness, creating one's own recipes."

"I was more interested in the Ancient Runes position at first," she continued, "but since Hogwarts managed to get the world's leading expert interested in it, I didn't stand a chance."

"Creating one's owns brews is what drew me to it as well," Draco admitted. "Discovering the powerful effects of moonlight or raindrops, waiting patiently for results…"

"I often assumed it was your favorite subject because Snape cut you some slack," Hermione said.

Draco smirked. "Well, I can't say it didn't help, but it genuinely sparked my interest, much more than say Magical Creatures."

Hermione smiled. "Hagrid himself was the only thing I actually liked about the class," she said, "but those horrible beasts not so much. Divination, however, that really was my most hated subject…"

"Far too woolly for you."

"Precisely," she shook her head. "Staring at tealeaves for hours on end…"

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "Yet some people," he whispered conspiratorially, "can be genuine Seers and it is quite uncanny. Our Headmistress for one…. She already predicted the Tournament would be held here, no matter what barriers or resistance would come from the other two schools. And when it happens— I've witnessed it once or twice— her voice alters, like she is not entirely human."

"I didn't know your Headmistress was a Seer," Hermione said surprised. "That's very interesting."

"She keeps it to herself, mostly," he explained. "Though she's shared it with a few friends."

"You are in her inner circle," Hermione stated as she quoted his Headmistress, "soon to be my right hand man, she said you were."

Draco's grey eyes lit up. "The Deputy Headmaster is getting restless. He wants to go abroad more, instead of being stuck at the school all year….. so perhaps she was referring to that."

"But… But," Hermione stuttered, "wouldn't she choose someone more senior? Aren't you considered, well, an outsider, perhaps?" Hermione briefly wondered if there was more between Draco and Freya and she blushed slightly at the thought.

His eyes narrowed. "Talent counts for more," he sneered, "I'd have thought, you for one, would appreciate that about her."

"I do," Hermione replied. "It just seems quite soon in your career?"

"Jealous much?" Draco smirked. "I've always known exactly how to hone people."

"Probably inherited that particular skill," Hermione said darkly. It wasn't a compliment.

A few days later, Draco found Hermione sitting in a corner in the teachers' common room. She was all by herself. He didn't realize she was crying until it was too late and she had already spotted him. Immediately she wiped her eyes with a white lace handkerchief.

"Didn't see you there," he muttered as she said: "Don't mind me…"

"Anything I can do? A nice cup of tea, perhaps?" he said, awkwardly. They still hadn't agreed on a lesson plan as they kept sliding into petty arguments whenever they tried to discuss it.

Hermione swallowed. "Thanks, you are too kind but that won't be necessary. I'm all right again."

He nodded. "Well, in that case, I do need to talk to you about what happened this morning…" His brow darkened as he sat down in one of the flowery, quite ugly, chairs. Draco had hated the common room decorations since the start. Pinkish wallpaper, flowery fabric: it was as if they'd hired Dolores Umbridge as the interior designer. He wasn't the only teacher who'd complained about it either.

Apparently it had been created for a Valentine's celebration and was never restored to its old appearance. All sorts of gossip was shared about Freya's refusal to alter it back to its original state. Some said she'd received her first kiss in that room, others had nastier explanations. The real reason, a rather sinister one, was only known to the Headmistress herself.

"Granger….." he hesitated, "Weasley, I mean. Perhaps you shouldn't…" He coughed.

"Shouldn't what?" Hermione replied worried. For a second, she pondered on the thought of being a Granger again which wasn't an entirely unlikely possibility. She felt suddenly hot, despite there not being a fire in the fireplace, as a feeling of dread overcame her.

"This morning I've taught the fourth-years," he said, "and, well, I told them about the guest lessons and I encountered some resistance at the mention of your name."

"No surprises there," Hermione said. "We've expected that, surely?"

"Perhaps," he replied, "yet the intensity rather startled me. It made me wonder about taking precautions. I could remove the most difficult students from the lesson, if you wish?"

"Giving in to their demands?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Letting them get away with it?"

"It would keep you safe," he argued, not responding to the not-so veiled insult. "They might want to take out their anger on you, as the perfect…"

"Scapegoat." Hermione sighed. "Are you saying we're going to need Aurors in class now as well?"

"I hope it doesn't come to that, but after this morning…" With a hoarse voice, he recounted the tale.

Draco had told his students enthusiastically about the guest lessons. He hadn't really warmed up to the idea yet, but that wasn't for his students to know. Some of them had cheered, saying it might be fun to get a different teacher for a change. But most of them had scowled, or worse, far worse.

Anatoly had stood up, challenging him in his own classroom again. "I won't be taught by Muggle-borns, as you well know," he'd stated. His father had granted him permission not to take those courses. He wasn't the only student who boycotted Igor and Sasha's lessons either.

"And she's one of the worst of their kind!" He had spat on the floor, before stalking out, leaving Draco dumbfounded. But that wasn't the end of it. Lilith too had risen and commanded some of the others to leave the room. Her eyes had spat fire but an eerie coldness radiated of her also.

"You're becoming a traitor to your blood," she'd said, quite coolly. "But then again, you were a lousy Death Eater already."

Draco had taken out his wand, furiously, but she had just stared at him and laughed. "Challenging me to a duel, are you? I wouldn't be too sure you'd win!"

And with that she'd left his classroom, taking another four students with her.

"They are not even hiding it," he said, not quite meeting Hermione's eyes. "If they don't mind threatening me, they certainly won't hesitate in attacking you," he said. "The biggest problem is that they have protection: powerful parents, teachers who agree with them. We'll have to tread lightly."

Hermione nodded stiffly. "On top of everything else," she sighed. "And to think I was rather looking to seeing everyone compete."

"I think we should allow them not to attend, " Draco said. "Perhaps it is cowardly and feels like appeasing them, but safety does come first. You are our guests and you should be treated as such."

"Maybe you're right," Hermione said deflated. "It might be for the best."