Hi all! I wanted to put a hyperlink for easy access to the preceding installment to this story for those who have yet to read.. but apparently they won't let me. -_- So, look on my profile for 'The 10 Year Reunion' if you want to check it out.

I can't wait to share what I have in store for this story, it's going to be a good one! Let me know what you think! Happy reading. :)

"Welcome to the first class and inauguration of Charms Synthesis. This is the first year that the course will be taught and practiced for second-years at Hogwarts," Draco Malfoy pridefully announces. "I will be teaching you how to take the most basic of spells and turn them into your own." He slowly paces back and forth with his eyes on the ground and a hand in his pocket. His whiteish blonde hair is perfectly disheveled, lightly gelled and swept to the side. He's wearing a white button up dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up. A plain dark emerald tie hangs around his neck paired with black slacks and shoes.

The classroom is shaped in a dome-like setting with cobblestone walls and concrete floors. A string of lit candles line the circumference, and a natural source of lighting emits from the see-through glass ceiling overhead. A large screen, similar to a muggle's television, harmoniously levitates next to the teacher's podium. Hogwarts had slowly implemented modern day technology into their schooling over the years. There were many benefits to be had when infusing magic and the ever-emerging field for muggles. The advanced method of teaching and brand-new professor held a promising outlook for the progression of creating uniquely gifted wizards and witches.

Three long months of extensive training and modifications to Draco's lifestyle had come to fruition. Not only had he taken on the role of teaching the self-invented class, but he had also reinstated the position as Head of Slytherin. He was exhausted, and his temper was put to the test multiple times. In the first couple of months of training he managed to balance his duties with ease. However, his lack of sleep and overachieving commitment had begun to catch up with him.

Draco spent most of his holiday doing what he loved most; altering spells and charms to one's advantage. It had become his own personal craft, leading to endless innovations and a very unique expertise. McGonagall suggested he collaborate with Professor Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw and seasoned Charms teacher, on the emerging field. The Ravenclaw was impressed with the Slytherin's intellectual advancement for his age. Flitwick had always encouraged his students to experiment with their magic, so the pair saw the immediate potential for their newly shared course. A textbook the size of a small magazine was orchestrated and dispersed to the students with the intention to grow over time.

"Some charms will be used for defensive measures; although most likely never used," Draco advises. "Others will be of convenience; utilizing each spell as a fusion of your desires, if you will." Faint gasps and whispers are heard throughout the classroom as he continues to pace the area. "The rest is left for sheer entertainment; the fundamental essence of magic deserves recognition, which is too often neglected."

The professor stops at his podium to take an elongated sip of coffee and scan of the classroom. Each student is visibly invested, leaning forward in their seats with widened eyes. "Professor Flitwick and I will be alternating between ideology and demonstration. As you are aware, you are responsible for Mr. Flitwick's course; Charms Synthesis Theory, on Tuesday's and Thursday's prior to this class. He will be holding an emphasis on the study of the fusions found in your textbook, while I will be exemplifying such spells. Depending on the criteria for that week, he and I will interchange into each other's courses when deemed necessary." While taking another pause to ingest more caffeine and gauge his audience, a girl in the third-row eagerly raises her hand.

"Question!" The young woman dressed in Ravenclaw robes rests one elbow against the desk with the other hand eagerly raised in the air. She has porcelain white skin, golden blonde hair, and blue eyes. Before he has the chance to answer she states, "You're Draco.. Draco Malfoy, aren't you?"

"Thank you for the introduction, Ms.- what was it?"

"Weasley. Victoire Weasley, sir."

"Of course a bloody Weasley," Draco hisses under his breath turning his back to them. He regains momentum of his pace and replies, "Your observation is correct, Ms. Weasley; but you will all refer to me as Professor or Mr. Malfoy."

"Is it true.. what they've written in the papers?"

With his back still turned to them, he aggravatingly squeezes his eyes shut. "Not the entirety of it."

"Are you really a-"

"I am your professor," he barks spinning on his feet. "Not a celebrity, and not what the media depicts me to be. I refuse to attend to any rubbish regarding my personal life."

Draco's meticulous defense instantly sends his student into retraction as she sinks in her seat with interlaced fingers against the table. The professor's eyes drag to the young man seated at the table adjacent to her. He has a deep side part and long choppy bangs that sweep across his forehead. One of his hazel colored eyes is intentionally hidden beneath a pile of royal blue locks. Draco's face softens at the recognizable crooked smile on the boy's face. He almost hadn't recognized Teddy; only three months had passed, yet he had grown an inch taller, along with his freshly died hair, and his face had maturely thinned out.

The Hufflepuff does a quick head tilt to the Slytherin receiving a concise eyebrow raise in response. The familiar face motivates Draco to get back on track. Re-centering himself at the forefront of the classroom, he pulls out his wand from his back pocket. "Carrying on, then. A short demonstration."

With a sudden movement and aggressive gesture of his arm, he flicks his wrist at a fully capacitated bookshelf. A thunderous boom emits from his wand causing a mini explosion; each textbook perilously flung across the classroom. Most students yelp and duck for cover as he shouts, "Immobulus Tricio!"

As the books hurl across the classroom, Draco notices a boy from Slytherin neglecting to pay attention; distracted by the wrapper covering his pastry in hand instead. He points at the student from across the room and wordlessly slashes his wand in a downward motion before flicking it upward. A bright orange translucent trail of smoke fluidly expels from the tip of his wand smoothly slithering toward his target. With a precise double twirl of his wrist, the vapor wraps around the unwrapped muffin in the boy's hand. His expectant mouth is left wide open as it's forcefully ripped from his grasp. A rogue textbook comes flying toward his face soon thereafter.

With one last effortless flick of his wrist Draco timely freezes each spastic novel in place, the last one pausing just inches from the young Slytherin's nose. The boy yips as he lunges his bodyweight against the back of his seat and collapses to the floor. Laughs echo throughout the dome shaped room as his classmates emerge from beneath their desks.

Their attention is quickly deflected once they notice the airborne textbooks, 20 of them revolving ever so slowly in place, scattered across the classroom. As the bewitched novels remain on stand-by, the snatched pastry bolts toward the conductor of the charm.

Draco keeps his eyes concentrated on the incoming object as he shoves his wand back in place and nears his post. He catches the muffin like a fastball in his left hand. Immediately after, each book lures toward the front of the room as though his body was a magnet. They gracefully pile upon each other, one after the other, creating a neat stack on the podium before him.

The class breaks into a mixture of applause and snickers; impressed with the teacher's performance, and wildly entertained by the embarrassed, snackless Slytherin on the floor. Draco's vision alternates between the fresh treat and the agitated student beneath him before taking a bite. "Thank you for the biscuit, Mr.- what was it?"

"Goyle," he grumpily replies crawling back into his seat.

Now that Draco had a face to the name, he was able to recognize the boy's uncanny appearance to his best friend growing up; Gregory Goyle. He hadn't heard from the fellow Slytherin since the end of the Battle in the Room of Requirement. From his point of view, Gregory most likely retained the idealistic view that their Death Eater parents held. Therefore, he had no interest in maintaining a relationship with him.

"You and my father were best mates; Death Eaters, at that," Goyle mouths off with a smug expression. A few sharp inhales are heard at his defiant yet truthful commentary.

Draco thoughtfully tilts his head to the side tossing the muffin up and down in hand. His eyes remain perilously steadfast on the Slytherin as he towers over him. "My apologies, Mr. Goyle, for my lack of recognition. I was under the impression that your father was too thick to reproduce."

The professor takes one last bite retrieving his wand. "I believe this is yours." He holds the bitten pastry in one hand as the other does a quick flick of the wrist. He returns his wand to his back pocket while concentrating on the levitated muffin above his palm. He lowers his hand and centers it in front of Goyle who appears more than willing to eat his leftovers. As he reaches to grab it, it abruptly liquidates mid-air. A mini waterfall spills through Draco's fingers and crashes across Goyle's desk onto his lap. His classmates snicker; apprehensive of the unpredictable teacher yet extraordinarily entertained. The humiliated Slytherin whimpers as he nervously pats his freshly soaked slacks.

"Friendly reminder, you lot," Draco announces with a disingenuous smirk. "As your professor I expect nothing less, other than for you to submit to my requests. Unless, of course, you'd prefer I turn them into demands." The remaining light-hearted giggling comes to an immediate close as the class falls deathly silent. "However, I would not advise such, as it'd be in your best interest to reside on my good side."

With his face tilted downward, his eyes scour the visibly intimidated crowd. "I'm a man of second chances. Therefore, I shall repeat myself: Any hearsay regarding my personal life is strictly forbidden," he harshly lectures through pressed teeth. "Understand?"

The group of adolescents hesitantly glance to each other with enlarged eyes. After receiving a head nod from everyone, other than those who were too stunned to make any sudden movements, Draco concludes, "Class dismissed."

Later That Afternoon

Knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

"Hello?"

The knob to Draco's office slowly revolves causing a loud creak once the door is fully open. The piercing sound ignites a sharp inhale as his eyes flutter open against the back of his forearms. He lethargically lifts his head from his folded arms rested upon an opened textbook. He repetitively blinks so as to push away the grime from his eyes and gain proper focus. He simultaneously rubs the back of his palm beneath his lower lip, lightly grimacing at the trail of saliva now spread across the top of his hand.

"I.. brought you coffee," the hesitant soft voice states from the hallway. "Seems as though my premonition of your status has proven to be correct."

Draco's head snaps toward the door with lively eyes as he inspects Hermione Granger perched against the doorway. She holds a hot beverage in each hand with a bookbag swung over her shoulder. Her hair is in loose waves and she has on matching wine toned lipstick and heels. She's wearing a fitted collared white shirt with the sleeves at three quarter length. In contrast to the color of Draco's house, a dark plain maroon tie hangs from her neck paired with a black pencil skirt.

Draco gazes at her for far longer than intended entranced by her beauty. She peers back at him with sparkling brown eyes and a subdued smile. Based off his lack of response, Hermione takes initiative and occupies the seat at his desk across from him. "Well, you look like rubbish."

Gelled pieces of disheveled blond hair messily fling in every direction across his forehead. His dark rimmed lower eyelids and paler than normal complexion gives off the appearance of a sleep deprived ghost. And yet, he was still remarkably handsome.

"Always a pleasure, Granger," Draco grumbles turning his attention back to his heavy head. His fingers interlace through his hair with a firm grip to prevent it from tilting downward.

After pushing the piping hot cup of coffee closer to him, she reclines in her seat with an entertained smirk. The strong aroma instantly perks him up as his hand snatches the drink. He takes a hefty sip as though he were critically parched, regardless of the fact that it burns the shit out of his tongue.

The telling smile of endearment on Hermione's face is promptly dropped once she notices he had been sneakily observing her from the corner of his eye. "So, how was your first day?" she diverts.

"Threatened the bloody twits into obedience," he states dryly. "I'm illustrated as quite the celebrity; now I understand why Potter is so insufferable." An uncontrolled giggle escapes her lips at his characteristic combativeness. "Amused, are you?" He leans his elbow against the table and uses his inner wrist as a pillow as his eyelids lower.

With a light head nod and smile she replies, "I anticipated your impending threats to the children.. on the first day, however; that's bloody impressive."

Hermione curiously examines the 5-inch textbook he's perched against. "Is that The Book of Charms & Spells?" she inquires with palpable envy in her tone. "That's Filius' annotated masterpiece! I haven't read it in years."

"Flitwick requested I review this. Perhaps I'll lend you the ludicrously tedious novel if I finish it by my 30th birthday." Draco frustratingly slams it shut, missing the tip of Hermione's eager finger by centimeters. "Thank you for the beverage," he states shortly. "Now if you don't mind; I have work to attend to."

"Very well, if you deem napping in the middle of the afternoon as working," she slickly replies tightly crossing her arms. After springing to her feet, she struts to his side of the desk demanding his full attention. She leans her bottom against the minimal surface space facing him. Perching herself on the table, she casually points a finger behind herself slamming the door shut for privacy. There is less than a foot of space separating them, and the scent of vanilla and jasmine wonderfully radiates from her skin.

Draco's icy blue eyes light up as he glances up to her face and then back to her slim waist and curvy hips at eye level. Crossing one leg over the other, Hermione interlocks her fingers over her knees and playfully tilts her head to the side. "You know, Draco; I advise you get in as much work as possible before the end of the week, seeing as you won't have the opportunity to do so Friday night."

Officially awake and fully alert, he lounges in his chair with arms folded behind his head. "Granger; the obnoxious teacher's pet, advising myself to hush aside homework? And for what, exactly?" The mocking of her, an innate defense mechanism since he was 11, compartmentalizes his overpowering temptations.

Hermione raises her eyebrows with a lightly lowered jaw and smile. "Well I'd prefer being a loathsome teacher's pet over a spoiled little brat; such as you're being in this very moment."

Draco reclines in his seat with furrowed brows. "As much as I'd enjoy having my temper further tested, I'd rather you-"

"Hush aside homework for what, you ask?" she testily cuts him off. "You will be taking me to dinner on Friday evening."

"Is that right?" His judgmental eyes critique her with fingers still intertwined behind his head. "I was under the impression that you were opposed to the notion of our involvement until we were properly adjusted."

"Precisely. It was most beneficial to wait until we were individually settled at Hogwarts; for the purpose of your training, and for the concentration of my curriculum."

"You're implying that the first bloody day of term establishes us as settled, then?" he disputes. "Do I appear settled, Granger?"

"No.. no you do not," she sternly replies with the look of disappointment. "Perhaps you're right, then." Readjusting the strap of her bookbag, she reaches for her coffee as her heels meet the floor.

Draco's hand grabs hers faster than she could the coffee. "I apologize," he mutters. "I'm dreadfully sleep deprived." His eyes ricochet back and forth mirroring his jumbled thoughts. "I've anticipated being in your presence for the last three bloody months. In fact.." He grabs the ridiculously lengthy textbook and whips it open to where he had left off. "I could utilize your assistance with this rubbish, if you wish to stay."

"Brilliant," Hermione chirps with a cheery tone and dramatic change of poise. "Now for starters.." She snags the textbook from his grasp propping it open on her lap. "It was rather daft, starting on chapter 4. I strongly suggest beginning with chapter 7."

Draco resumes his positioning from before, fully reclined in his desk chair. He glances up to her, his lips curled at the sides. She catches him gazing at her and stops her sentence. "What?" he snaps.

"Nothing, it's just.." Hermione's eyes brighten as she says, "It's lovely to see you smile."