Hermione sat on a wide burgundy chair in Professor McGonagall's office, her right leg crossed over the left as she absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of her cardigan. Although Professor McGonagall had summoned Hermione to the office at a quarter to noon, the professor had still not arrived nearly five minutes past their arranged meeting time. With every passing minute of McGonagall's absence, Hermione's anxiety increased.
That morning, Hermione had awoken to a note neatly arranged on her bedside table as if it had materialized out of thin air. On the front, her name was scribbled in impeccable penmanship. Receiving notes from McGonagall typically wasn't any cause for concern, at least not in Hermione's case. It didn't worry her the way that it would worry Ron or Harry who constantly found themselves in trouble. Hermione, on the other hand, was different. Her correspondence with McGonagall had gone back years, occurring on a semi-frequent basis. They checked in with one another every few days, mostly in regards to Hermione's studies or sometimes when McGonagall discovered an interesting book that Hermione might enjoy.
Recently though, every bit of news made Hermione uneasy. In the current unrest of the wizarding world, everyone was constantly wondering what would happen now that Voldemort had officially returned. Hermione could only ever anticipate bad news. These days, she had forgotten what it was to feel completely at ease. It seemed that around every corner was just another setback and more danger.
Nevertheless, she arrived promptly - albeit a bit apprehensively - to the Deputy Headmistress's office, outwardly calm as she awaited the professor's arrival.
McGonagall's office was a quaint, cosy room tucked away in a quiet corner of the castle. It had a window that overlooked the area surrounding the castle, giving the perfect view of the picturesque grounds. A fire, which Hermione believed to be eternally burning, flickered before her and made the room the perfect temperature to combat the frigid air outside. But Hermione was uncomfortably warm. The stress made her cheeks warm. With all the anxiety within her, she couldn't help herself from bouncing her knees in anticipation.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, the thick wooden door flung open and Professor McGonagall, clad in her signature emerald robes, entered the room in a blur. "Ms. Granger," she said, not slowing her pace. "Apologies. Unfortunately, a number of first-year students were involved in a distressing misuse of magic this morning. Very unpleasant."
The older woman flicked her wand and the door swung shut behind her as if thrown by a gust of wind. There was something so admirable about McGonagall's effortless use of magic. Hermione had always viewed the older woman as a role model. Even now, in these dark times, her opinion remained unchanged.
Hermione cleared her throat and clasped her hands together in her lap. She reassured the Deputy Headmistress that it was alright, even though it didn't really matter if she thought otherwise, and then watched McGonagall glide across the room. The older witch flicked her wand again but this time to put on a pot of tea. Once she had everything settled, McGonagall took the seat opposite Hermione.
"I suppose you're wondering why I've called you to my office this afternoon. I have a rather important subject to discuss."
Hermione's stomach was in knots. She quietly tried to steady her breathing as she prepared herself for the moment of truth. "Professor, is everything alright? Have my parents been... Are my parents okay?"
McGonagall's eyebrows furrowed and a deep crease formed in the skin between them. Hermione could have sworn that she saw the older woman's shoulders drop. "Oh, gracious. Yes, of course. It hadn't occurred to me... You children are so much more aware of the state of our world than us adults sometimes realize. It was not my intention to frighten you. No, I asked you here today because, as it happens, I am in need of your assistance."
The teapot began to whistle and then shriek. Hermione sat a little taller, exhaling quietly.
"You see," McGonagall continued. "A certain classmate of yours has been, let's say, struggling with their studies more than usual. In the past, I have not found sufficient reason to be especially concerned with this particular pupil's academic performance. However, I have been alarmed as of late. I fear that perhaps it is not a lack of understanding - no, that would be much easier to resolve. I believe that it is a lack of interest. That's where you come in."
"Me?" Hermione squeaked.
McGonagall nodded thoughtfully as she used her wand to pour the piping hot tea into two porcelain teacups. One of the cups moved through the air towards Hermione who grasped it carefully in mid-air.
"You are, without question, one of my brightest students, Ms. Granger. I doubt that anyone at this school could argue that," McGonagall declared. The statement made Hermione's heart swell with pride. It wasn't often that her professor dished out compliments, so when you did happen to receive one, you were sure to know that she meant it. "However, I have reason to believe that it would be enough for him to simply be in your presence. This particular student has previously shown an interest in you, so to speak. I think that perhaps you are one of the only people at this school that challenges them. Would you be willing to take this on?"
"I'm sorry. I don't understand. Do you want me to tutor someone?"
"Not exactly. It would be more encouraging rather than actual teaching. I realize that you are extremely busy with your own coursework and... other activities are the moment. But it shouldn't be too much extra work. One hour every day. I'm certain that you could manage."
"Oh, I'm not worried about the workload. I'm honoured that you would consider me, Professor. Thank you. So, who is it that I'll be tutoring?"
McGonagall paused for a moment. A frown settled on her already naturally turned down lips. "I'm afraid that student is Mr. Malfoy."
It felt like the world stopped moving around Hermione. "Malfoy?" Her vision blurred and her body froze. "As in Draco Malfoy?"
McGonagall raised a hand in the air. "Ms. Granger, before you are tempted to judge, I urge you to remember that he too is a student at this institution and that he deserves an equal opportunity at a full education, regardless of your personal feelings towards him."
"I beg your pardon, Professor. But Draco Malfoy doesn't deserve an equal anything," Hermione protested. Even just talking about him made her agitated. That much was obvious by how she was speaking to her professor. She had never so much as disagreed with McGonagall before. Well, at least she had never been stupid enough to do so vocally. But on this, she couldn't stay silent. "He's... Well, truthfully, he's an absolutely horrid person. He isn't doing well in his classes because he just doesn't care. I have classes with him, Professor. He is disrespectful to our professors and to the other students who actually want to learn."
"Respectfully, Ms. Granger, I beg to differ." McGonagall stood from her chair and strolled towards the window. "You are at liberty to decline my request if you so desire. I'm not here to tell you that you must take on this role. However, I would be greatly disappointed in you if you turned down this opportunity. I really did believe that you are interested in the greater good."
Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Professor McGonagall - who had, over these past six years, witnessed firsthand how Draco Malfoy terrorized the students and professors - was asking her to voluntarily spend time with him. Hermione reckoned that the poor woman must have been under an Imperius Curse. Either that or Ron was actually right: McGonagall had finally lost it.
"Professor, please understand," Hermione begged. "Draco is unteachable. He is rude and... and... uncouth! Believe me, there is no way that Draco Malfoy is going to let a Muggleborn tutor him. It's impossible."
"Improbable. But not impossible." McGonagall's eyes were practically twinkling. Now Hermione was really beginning to worry. "Ms. Granger, please. It would mean a great deal to me."
Hermione stared long and hard at the older woman. Goddamnit. With a sigh, she finally gave her answer. "Alright. I'll do it. I'll tutor Malfoy."
The words made Hermione's skin itch just by saying them aloud. How was she supposed to tutor Malfoy when she could barely look at him without disgust? The thought of seeing him every day with no way of avoiding him made her exceptionally nervous.
McGonagall, surprisingly, smiled. "Thank you." She took a delicate sip of her tea. "You will tutor Mr. Malfoy in Transfiguration, History of Magic, and Potions. The two of you will meet for one hour every evening, except for on Sundays. Professor Snape and I have agreed to lift the curfew for you two so that you may meet from 9 to 10 o'clock. We thought that perhaps it would be best if this arrangement were kept discreet."
For that, Hermione was grateful. God knew that Harry would have a coronary if he found out that Hermione was spending time with an alleged Death Eater. That would really get him going.
"What should I tell my roommates?" Hermione asked.
McGonagall considered this for a moment. "Tell them that I've asked you to assist me with a special project. That should be sufficient. If they ask any more questions, I will deal with it. But I hardly think that will be necessary."
She was right. In fact, Hermione wasn't all that concerned about her roommates. She wasn't even certain that they would notice her absence, let alone care where she was. She wasn't particularly close with any of them after all. It was her friends that were more problematic.
Once Professor McGonagall had finished relaying all the information, Hermione thanked her for the opportunity and headed towards the door, feeling a bit woozy. As she reached out for the doorknob, a thought gave her pause. Slowly, she turned around. "Professor?"
"Hm?"
"What exactly did you mean when you said that Malfoy had shown an interest in me?"
An odd look grew in McGonagall's eyes, like a secret that was bursting at the seams. "Have a good afternoon, Ms. Granger."
With a slight huff of frustration, Hermione wished her professor a good afternoon and headed out the door, but not before being reminded by McGonagall that the first meeting with Draco would be that evening in the library. Great, Hermione thought. She closed the office door behind her and then leaned her back against it, squeezing her eyes shut. A sick feeling grew in her stomach.