Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, any of the rights to Harry Potter,
or anything like that. I would like to own a nice set of oil paints, but
this disclaimer won't make that any more possible than it will make it
possible for me to actually own these characters. JK Rowling owns Harry and
company and I don't think she's sending them to me as a Christmas present
(though I might get those oil paints).
"As it seems I must do every year, I would like to introduce the new defense against the dark arts teacher, Professor Ophelia Rose."
As Dumbledore spoke, all eyes turned to look at the willowy woman with deep blue eyes, pale skin, and golden hair who stood, smiled distantly, and then sat in one fluid motion.
Neville turned to Ron, his eyes seemingly glued to the beautiful professor, "I-is she a veela?"
Ron shrugged, also staring intently at Professor Rose, "I suppose that if she ever gets angry in class we'll find out!"
If Dumbledore said anything more before the banquet began, be it about the Triwizard Tournament, Draco and Hermione's positions as Head Boy and Head Girl respectively, of the newest restrictions on wandering the grounds and visiting Hogsmeade due to increased activity by the Death Eaters, it fell upon deaf ears. Every young man, and a majority of the young women in the hall were far too distracted by their newest professor who sat at the table in the front of the hall, seemingly searching for someone or something, her eyes sad.
Hermione regarded the males around her with disdain. As she looked up towards Ophelia she noticed that the students were not the only ones enraptured by the golden-haired witch. Snape was gazing at the pretty, elegant woman, looking oddly serene, smoothing his robes, almost smiling.
Ramming her elbow into Harry's side, she managed to break him from his trance long enough to whisper in his ear, "She's a veela Harry. Look at the way Snape's staring at her. How does Dumbledore expect anything to get done in defense against the dark arts with a veela teaching the class?"
Harry shrugged, seeming not to care in the least, "Does it matter Hermione? We're 7th year. We deserve a teacher like this."
"Well maybe you like her, but I for one find the whole thing to be ridiculous. She can't possibly teach if over half the students are making eyes at her during class!"
If Harry had any intention of replying he never quite got around to it because as Hermione finished her rant, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away from Harry, Rose stood and practically glided over to the Gryffindor table. As she approached them, her hair brushing her shoulders and her lips turning up in a sad smile, Harry looked as though he was about to fall out of his chair.
The professor opened her mouth, and as she spoke, even Hermione began to think it was the single most beautiful sound in the world, "Harry Potter. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"P-pleasure'smine." Harry stuttered and mumbled, taking the delicate, long fingered hand that was extended to him, resisting the urge to kiss its milky smoothness.
"My class will be a difficult one. Do you feel you are up to the challenge?" Ophelia practically sang, her voice falling on all ears like rain on a desert.
"Y-yes ma'am.. Miss. professor."
"Professor Rose will do just fine Harry." She then turned to Hermione, "Miss Granger, congratulations on your appointment as Head Girl. From what Dumbledore has told me you more than deserve the position."
Hermione felt herself blush at the professor's compliment, but mumbled a small "Thank you" nonetheless.
With a half-smile that caused Harry's face to redden (along with the faces of every boy and many of the girls at the table) Ophelia turned away from the Gryffindor table and seemed to be about to return to her seat when Snape put his hand on her shoulder, murmuring something in her ear. As Hermione and Harry watched, a tiny frown flickered over Professor Rose's face. She shook her head, and opened her mouth as if to reply, but Snape cut her off, looking almost desperate. Apparently, whatever he said to the willowy woman upset her because she pulled her shoulder from his grasp roughly, and with an imperious flick of her head, stalked away angrily, leaving Snape standing, with his hand still held out as though her shoulder had not been ripped violently from him, mouth half open.
Hermione leaned towards Harry, snickering, "If I didn't know better, I'd say that Snape was flirting with the new professor!"
But from the dazed and dreamy look in Harry's eyes, it was obvious that he wasn't listening.
The feast over, each house returned to their dorms for some much- needed rest. Hermione had been given her own suite as Head Girl, but followed with the rest of the Gryffindors until she was forced to part ways with them. Waving goodbye to Ron and Harry, Hermione turned down a long corridor and found herself face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy, Slytherin and Head Boy of Hogwarts.
"Finally Granger. I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."
"After 7 years I find that highly unlikely." Hermione scoffed.
"I wouldn't put it past you. But either way, you have to follow me." Draco replied darkly, turning to lead a very reluctant Hermoine down the hall to her room.
She took a step towards him before she realized what the fact that she was following Draco Malfoy meant, "Wait. We're not. living together. are we?"
Draco turned on his heel, "Yes. We are. I'm not any happier about it than you are but I have to deal with it so just follow me and shut up for a change!" he snapped, marching down the hall angrily.
Hermione kept about five feet between the two of them as she followed the person who was quite possibly her worst enemy in Hogwarts towards what would be their room.
As they reached the painting that served as the door leading to what Hermione hoped would be a common room, rather than one large bedroom. Or worse, one huge bed. No. Dumbledore would never do that. right? She shuddered at the thought.
Draco approached the painting, a darly hued faerie with jet black hair, grey tinted skin, flame-red eyes and lips, a gauzy black dress with tattered ends, and bat-like wings, and cleared his throat, "Serpent!"
Hermoine scowled and the faerie chuckled, swinging out to reveal a commons room, smaller, but cozier than the one in Gryffindor, "I get to choose the next password." She declared, throwing herself down in a large red overstuffed armchair.
Draco shrugged, "I couldn't care less Granger, just as long as you don't talk to me or come anywhere near me for the duration of the year."
"That sounds like a perfectly acceptable plan to me." Hermione paused for a moment, "Wait. Who let you in here to begin with?"
"In where?"
"The suite." Hermione said patronizingly.
"Oh. Professor Rose. Dumbledore said he had something to attend to so he asked her to bring me up here."
Hermione laughed, "I bet that made you very happy. She makes all the boys happy."
"Oh grow up Granger. She's not even a full veela. Anyone with half an ounce of magic in them can guard against her. It isn't exactly difficult." Draco spat.
Recalling Harry and Ron's immediate absorption with the professor, as well as her own, Hermione blushed. But we didn't know she was part veela. We were caught off guard. I'll warn Harry and Ron next time. If Draco can do it, it can't be that hard.
"Is she coming back? Or bringing Dumbledore up?"
"She mentioned it. Said she needed to talk to Professor Snape though." Draco swung his legs over the arm of his green armchair and beckoned to his ferret Mask who skittered over to him with a small chirping squeak and leapt onto his shoulder.
From across the room, Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, hissed, back arched and tail bottle-brushed.
Scowling, Draco pointed to the cat, "You had better keep that thing the hell away from my ferret."
"Crookshanks wants nothing to do with your rodent. And after what Moody did to you in our fourth year, I wouldn't think you would either." Hermione argued, leaving her seat to walk over to her disgruntled cat and ruffle his ears, scratching behind them until he relaxed and even began to purr softly, "Do you Crookshanks?" she cooed lovingly, picking up the huge orange cat and setting him in her lap as she returned to her armchair in front of the fireplace.
Just as silence seemed about to overtake them, a silky rustling was heard at the doorway and Rose glided in, smiling her distant smile, first at Hermione and then at Draco who, as he had claimed, seemed entirely unaffected by her magical allure.
"Hello Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy." The odd way in which she said both their first and last names made her voice seem even more musical, more enchanting, "I'm pleased to see that you have settled in so well. I was told that you do not get along with one another, yet everything seems perfectly in order here. No yelling or clashing of spells yet."
"Yet" echoed Hermione and Draco simultaneously, scowling at each other.
Rose smiled, "Well, you might want to save those spells for the Triwizard Tournament." When both Draco and Hermione gave her a puzzled look, the professor queried, "Aren't you going to enter?"
With a bitter laugh, Draco replied, "Why bother? Everyone knows that Mr. Perfect Potter is going to be chosen. and probably win, again, becoming the hero of the school for a seventh year running."
"Do I detect jealousy Malfoy?" Hermione smirked.
"No. Who wants that anyway, getting everything he's gotten because he's a bloody celebrity, not because his abilities merit it." Draco spat the word "celebrity" as though it were a curse.
Ophelia shook her head, facing Draco "Everything that Harry has achieved, he has because he is an exceptional wizard," she paused, "But you have a potential for greatness as well. If not the same kind as Harry's."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Draco challenged, standing so abruptly that Mask almost fell off his shoulder.
"Just that if you wished to, you could be great," glancing about, as though she was checking to assure herself that everything in the room was in order, then being satisfied that it was, the willowy professor abruptly changed the subject, "Well, as you begin settling into your bedrooms, you will each notice that there's a painting on your wall. The panting will lead to your house common rooms. You each need to come up with a password, and never give it to anyone unless you are one hundred percent sure you can trust them, as the painting portal goes both ways. You need the password to get in from your common rooms as well. After you have completed that, I would suggest that you both get some sleep. As I recall from the roster, you have my class first thing in the morning." She turned to leave, calling over her shoulder "Think on what I have said, both of you. Sweet dreams."
When the beautiful half-veela had left the room, Draco breathed a small sigh and picked up Mask, who had leapt from his shoulder to the arm of his green chair when he had stood abruptly.
"What's with you?" he asked, noticing the slight look of disgust on Hermione's face.
Tossing her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head, the witch scooped up Crookshanks in her arms and stomped over to her room, growling, "Nothing, Malfoy," before slamming the door.
With a disinterested shrug, Draco retired to his room as well, leaving the little common room fire still burning.
The next morning at breakfast, Hermione's demeanor had gone from bad to worse. What had previously been a slight annoyance at the appointment of a veela as a professor had turned to near loathing.
"And she said Draco Malfoy could be great! To his face! As if he doesn't love himself enough already! Snape's gotten to her. She'll probably take points off of me just because I'm not infatuated with her!" Hermione ranted, shoving her barely-touched food away from her before crossing her arms over her chest.
Ron smiled sympathetically "Well, you never know Hermione. She doesn't seem bad to me."
"That's because you're male! You are male and she is half-veela!" Hermione screeched.
"Jeeze Hermione, is living with Malfoy getting to you that much already? Let's just get through our first defense against the dark arts class and then we can make our decision about her." Ron suggested, calmly munching on a piece of toast.
"Yes, it is getting to me, and I have already seen her encourage and compliment Draco. What more do I need to know?"
Harry frowned worriedly, "Hermione. This isn't like you. Usually you're the one trying to tell Ron or I to calm down." As Hermione opened her mouth to speak, Harry held up his hand in a gesture for silence, "look, I don't know what's bothering you, but if Ron or I can help, please tell us."
"Yeah. We can take care of Malfoy for you if you'd like!" Ron added around a mouthful of toast.
Hermione looked about to have another outburst regarding Professor Rose, so Harry made what he thought would be a complete change of subject. "So, are either of you planning on trying for a spot to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?"
Ron shook his head, almost laughing, "Nah. Everyone knows you'll be picked to compete, Harry. Besides, I saw what you had to do three years ago, and quite honestly, I'm not sure I could handle a dragon."
Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I think you could. Besides, I may not even enter. Give someone else a chance, y'know?"
Hermione leapt from her seat, slamming her palm down on the table, "No! Harry, you have to enter!"
Harry looked up at her, puzzled, "Hermione? Wha-"
"You have to. You can't give Malfoy the chance to compete!"
"Hermione?" Harry was still genuinely confused, "What are you talking about?"
"Malfoy. Professor Rose is encouraging him to enter the Triwizard Tournament. You can't let him be picked to compete! He's one of You-Know- Who's. or at least his father is." Seeming to suddenly realize that she was standing, with a small blush, Hermione took her seat.
Having noticed Hermione's outburst (just as half the hall had) McGonagall made her way over to the Gryffindor table and laid her hand on Hermione's shoulder, "Miss Granger, please keep the volume of your voice a bit lower. As Head Girl your responsibility is not only to your house, but to all of Hogwarts, including," she paused to look at Harry and Ron as well before continuing, "the Head Boy. As for Harry entering the Triwizard Tournament, I am afraid he doesn't have a choice. After having won once already, an considering what happened that year, Harry is not permitted to enter again." She smiled at Hermione, "However, I don't think that exactly ruins Gryffindor's chances for a champion, now does it?"
Hermione blushed furiously, either out of shame or pleased embarrassment, "No Professor, it doesn't."
"So you will offer your name to the Goblet of Fire?" McGonagall encouraged.
"Of course I will," Hermione assured her. As McGonagall walked away and out of earshot she added, "If only to make sure that Malfoy doesn't win."
Hermione entered defense against the dark arts with the mindset that it was going to be a disaster, even though Ron and Harry continued to try to convince her otherwise.
As the students filtered in and began to take their seats, Hermione inwardly groaned, seeing Draco Malfoy, surrounded by his pack of Slytherin sluts, headed by Pansy, saunter into the room.
Even if he is built and handsome and just about every girl in the school thinks he's the best thing since Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, he's still a pig!
"Am I so good looking that even you have to stare at me? Honestly Granger. I thought the Head Girl would have a little more dignity." Draco scoffed, shoving past Hermione with his harem close behind, followed up by Crabbe and Goyle who looked rather glum that they didn't have a harem.
Blushing for about the millionth time that day and somehow unable to think of a witty comeback, Hermione managed to stumble over to a seat next to Harry and fall into it with a moan of self-pity.
"Don't let him get to you. Honestly Hermoine. I don't know what's gotten into you." Harry shook his head.
"It's just Malfoy. I have to deal with him 24/7." She replied hollowly, but she could tell that Harry was having an exceedingly hard time believing her.
Harry was actually about to voice the opinion that there was no way in hell he believed her when Professor Rose floated into the room and the entire class fell silent.
For some inexplicable reason, Ophelia's robes seemed to cling to her body, accentuating her willowy form and graceful movement. Standing before the class, she smiled the same distant smile she had been giving everyone since she had arrived at Hogwarts, "Hello class. Before we begin our first lesson I would like to introduce myself and dispel a few rumours. I am Professor Ophelia Rose, your new defense against the dark arts teacher. Contrary to popular belief I am not veela. Not entirely. Rather, I am a half-veela. If I were a true veela none of you would be able to listen to me you would be so enamored by how I would appear to you and the magic I would be emitting."
From the back of the room one particularly bitter girl piped up, "Most of them can't pay attention to anything but you anyway."
Ophelia sighed sadly, "So I've noticed. That is why our first lesson will be on resisting the charms of a veela. One student has already taken it upon himself to learn this spell. Mr. Malfoy, would you be so kind as to come to the front of the room?"
With a nonchalant shrug, Draco stood upon Professor Rose's beckoning and strode to the front of the class, shooting a superior look in Harry and Hermione's direction as Rose began speaking again.
"This is not so much a spell I will be teaching you as it is a magical work of willpower," as the professor spoke, Hermione watched the eyes of the young men around her follow the beautiful woman's every movement, "To perform the initial spell you must take out your wand, point it at me and shout resisto lustano! As you do so, imagine a wall being built up around me. Now, the trick to this spell and the reason it is so hard to perform successfully is because you must subconsciously maintain this wall at all times. If, by chance, your wall weakens, you must recast the spell, which can be quite a bother," turning to Draco, she added, "Would you demonstrate the spell please?"
With a confidence that made Hermione sick to watch, Draco held out his wand and said in a close to bored tone "Resisto lustano." As he spoke, a thin beam of yellow light was emitted from his wand and reached out to the professor, wrapping itself around her until, with a final shimmer, it faded away. This being done, Draco returned his wand to his robe, but remained standing in the front of the room.
"Alright, now it's your turn." The professor indicated to the wands lying on her student's desks, untouched, "well, go on, try it."
When no one even stirred to pick up their wand, Ophelia sighed with exaggerated resignation, "I suppose then, that Mr. Malfoy is the only one among us who wishes to test the limits of his abilities."
At that, Hermione shot out of her seat, held up her wand and declared "Resisto lustano!" a thin thread of light, looking exactly like Draco's shot from her wand and wrapped itself, cocoon-like around the professor before dissolving into nothing.
"An impressive display, Miss Granger. It's amzing what one can do when given the correct motivation." A few of the Slytherins snickered and Hermione turned a deep shade of pink once more. Taking pity on Hogwarts' Head Girl, Professor Rose smiled "Very well done. Please take your seat."
Following Hermione's example, thread after thread of light began zooming towards the new professor, some forming a cocoon, others dissolving before they reached the willowy young woman who smiled at each spell successfully cast on her.
Per the usual, Neville found himself at odds with their newest spell, shooting weak spurts of oddly colored light threads at Rose repeatedly while Harry, Ron and Hermione tried in vain to get the spell to work correctly. Draco, who had since returned to his seat, smirked and let out a malicious laugh.
"Having trouble Longbottom? Maybe it's true love!"
Ophelia whirled on her heels and glared at Draco, a great emptiness in her voice, "With a veela there is no love."
"As it seems I must do every year, I would like to introduce the new defense against the dark arts teacher, Professor Ophelia Rose."
As Dumbledore spoke, all eyes turned to look at the willowy woman with deep blue eyes, pale skin, and golden hair who stood, smiled distantly, and then sat in one fluid motion.
Neville turned to Ron, his eyes seemingly glued to the beautiful professor, "I-is she a veela?"
Ron shrugged, also staring intently at Professor Rose, "I suppose that if she ever gets angry in class we'll find out!"
If Dumbledore said anything more before the banquet began, be it about the Triwizard Tournament, Draco and Hermione's positions as Head Boy and Head Girl respectively, of the newest restrictions on wandering the grounds and visiting Hogsmeade due to increased activity by the Death Eaters, it fell upon deaf ears. Every young man, and a majority of the young women in the hall were far too distracted by their newest professor who sat at the table in the front of the hall, seemingly searching for someone or something, her eyes sad.
Hermione regarded the males around her with disdain. As she looked up towards Ophelia she noticed that the students were not the only ones enraptured by the golden-haired witch. Snape was gazing at the pretty, elegant woman, looking oddly serene, smoothing his robes, almost smiling.
Ramming her elbow into Harry's side, she managed to break him from his trance long enough to whisper in his ear, "She's a veela Harry. Look at the way Snape's staring at her. How does Dumbledore expect anything to get done in defense against the dark arts with a veela teaching the class?"
Harry shrugged, seeming not to care in the least, "Does it matter Hermione? We're 7th year. We deserve a teacher like this."
"Well maybe you like her, but I for one find the whole thing to be ridiculous. She can't possibly teach if over half the students are making eyes at her during class!"
If Harry had any intention of replying he never quite got around to it because as Hermione finished her rant, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away from Harry, Rose stood and practically glided over to the Gryffindor table. As she approached them, her hair brushing her shoulders and her lips turning up in a sad smile, Harry looked as though he was about to fall out of his chair.
The professor opened her mouth, and as she spoke, even Hermione began to think it was the single most beautiful sound in the world, "Harry Potter. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"P-pleasure'smine." Harry stuttered and mumbled, taking the delicate, long fingered hand that was extended to him, resisting the urge to kiss its milky smoothness.
"My class will be a difficult one. Do you feel you are up to the challenge?" Ophelia practically sang, her voice falling on all ears like rain on a desert.
"Y-yes ma'am.. Miss. professor."
"Professor Rose will do just fine Harry." She then turned to Hermione, "Miss Granger, congratulations on your appointment as Head Girl. From what Dumbledore has told me you more than deserve the position."
Hermione felt herself blush at the professor's compliment, but mumbled a small "Thank you" nonetheless.
With a half-smile that caused Harry's face to redden (along with the faces of every boy and many of the girls at the table) Ophelia turned away from the Gryffindor table and seemed to be about to return to her seat when Snape put his hand on her shoulder, murmuring something in her ear. As Hermione and Harry watched, a tiny frown flickered over Professor Rose's face. She shook her head, and opened her mouth as if to reply, but Snape cut her off, looking almost desperate. Apparently, whatever he said to the willowy woman upset her because she pulled her shoulder from his grasp roughly, and with an imperious flick of her head, stalked away angrily, leaving Snape standing, with his hand still held out as though her shoulder had not been ripped violently from him, mouth half open.
Hermione leaned towards Harry, snickering, "If I didn't know better, I'd say that Snape was flirting with the new professor!"
But from the dazed and dreamy look in Harry's eyes, it was obvious that he wasn't listening.
The feast over, each house returned to their dorms for some much- needed rest. Hermione had been given her own suite as Head Girl, but followed with the rest of the Gryffindors until she was forced to part ways with them. Waving goodbye to Ron and Harry, Hermione turned down a long corridor and found herself face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy, Slytherin and Head Boy of Hogwarts.
"Finally Granger. I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."
"After 7 years I find that highly unlikely." Hermione scoffed.
"I wouldn't put it past you. But either way, you have to follow me." Draco replied darkly, turning to lead a very reluctant Hermoine down the hall to her room.
She took a step towards him before she realized what the fact that she was following Draco Malfoy meant, "Wait. We're not. living together. are we?"
Draco turned on his heel, "Yes. We are. I'm not any happier about it than you are but I have to deal with it so just follow me and shut up for a change!" he snapped, marching down the hall angrily.
Hermione kept about five feet between the two of them as she followed the person who was quite possibly her worst enemy in Hogwarts towards what would be their room.
As they reached the painting that served as the door leading to what Hermione hoped would be a common room, rather than one large bedroom. Or worse, one huge bed. No. Dumbledore would never do that. right? She shuddered at the thought.
Draco approached the painting, a darly hued faerie with jet black hair, grey tinted skin, flame-red eyes and lips, a gauzy black dress with tattered ends, and bat-like wings, and cleared his throat, "Serpent!"
Hermoine scowled and the faerie chuckled, swinging out to reveal a commons room, smaller, but cozier than the one in Gryffindor, "I get to choose the next password." She declared, throwing herself down in a large red overstuffed armchair.
Draco shrugged, "I couldn't care less Granger, just as long as you don't talk to me or come anywhere near me for the duration of the year."
"That sounds like a perfectly acceptable plan to me." Hermione paused for a moment, "Wait. Who let you in here to begin with?"
"In where?"
"The suite." Hermione said patronizingly.
"Oh. Professor Rose. Dumbledore said he had something to attend to so he asked her to bring me up here."
Hermione laughed, "I bet that made you very happy. She makes all the boys happy."
"Oh grow up Granger. She's not even a full veela. Anyone with half an ounce of magic in them can guard against her. It isn't exactly difficult." Draco spat.
Recalling Harry and Ron's immediate absorption with the professor, as well as her own, Hermione blushed. But we didn't know she was part veela. We were caught off guard. I'll warn Harry and Ron next time. If Draco can do it, it can't be that hard.
"Is she coming back? Or bringing Dumbledore up?"
"She mentioned it. Said she needed to talk to Professor Snape though." Draco swung his legs over the arm of his green armchair and beckoned to his ferret Mask who skittered over to him with a small chirping squeak and leapt onto his shoulder.
From across the room, Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, hissed, back arched and tail bottle-brushed.
Scowling, Draco pointed to the cat, "You had better keep that thing the hell away from my ferret."
"Crookshanks wants nothing to do with your rodent. And after what Moody did to you in our fourth year, I wouldn't think you would either." Hermione argued, leaving her seat to walk over to her disgruntled cat and ruffle his ears, scratching behind them until he relaxed and even began to purr softly, "Do you Crookshanks?" she cooed lovingly, picking up the huge orange cat and setting him in her lap as she returned to her armchair in front of the fireplace.
Just as silence seemed about to overtake them, a silky rustling was heard at the doorway and Rose glided in, smiling her distant smile, first at Hermione and then at Draco who, as he had claimed, seemed entirely unaffected by her magical allure.
"Hello Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy." The odd way in which she said both their first and last names made her voice seem even more musical, more enchanting, "I'm pleased to see that you have settled in so well. I was told that you do not get along with one another, yet everything seems perfectly in order here. No yelling or clashing of spells yet."
"Yet" echoed Hermione and Draco simultaneously, scowling at each other.
Rose smiled, "Well, you might want to save those spells for the Triwizard Tournament." When both Draco and Hermione gave her a puzzled look, the professor queried, "Aren't you going to enter?"
With a bitter laugh, Draco replied, "Why bother? Everyone knows that Mr. Perfect Potter is going to be chosen. and probably win, again, becoming the hero of the school for a seventh year running."
"Do I detect jealousy Malfoy?" Hermione smirked.
"No. Who wants that anyway, getting everything he's gotten because he's a bloody celebrity, not because his abilities merit it." Draco spat the word "celebrity" as though it were a curse.
Ophelia shook her head, facing Draco "Everything that Harry has achieved, he has because he is an exceptional wizard," she paused, "But you have a potential for greatness as well. If not the same kind as Harry's."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Draco challenged, standing so abruptly that Mask almost fell off his shoulder.
"Just that if you wished to, you could be great," glancing about, as though she was checking to assure herself that everything in the room was in order, then being satisfied that it was, the willowy professor abruptly changed the subject, "Well, as you begin settling into your bedrooms, you will each notice that there's a painting on your wall. The panting will lead to your house common rooms. You each need to come up with a password, and never give it to anyone unless you are one hundred percent sure you can trust them, as the painting portal goes both ways. You need the password to get in from your common rooms as well. After you have completed that, I would suggest that you both get some sleep. As I recall from the roster, you have my class first thing in the morning." She turned to leave, calling over her shoulder "Think on what I have said, both of you. Sweet dreams."
When the beautiful half-veela had left the room, Draco breathed a small sigh and picked up Mask, who had leapt from his shoulder to the arm of his green chair when he had stood abruptly.
"What's with you?" he asked, noticing the slight look of disgust on Hermione's face.
Tossing her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head, the witch scooped up Crookshanks in her arms and stomped over to her room, growling, "Nothing, Malfoy," before slamming the door.
With a disinterested shrug, Draco retired to his room as well, leaving the little common room fire still burning.
The next morning at breakfast, Hermione's demeanor had gone from bad to worse. What had previously been a slight annoyance at the appointment of a veela as a professor had turned to near loathing.
"And she said Draco Malfoy could be great! To his face! As if he doesn't love himself enough already! Snape's gotten to her. She'll probably take points off of me just because I'm not infatuated with her!" Hermione ranted, shoving her barely-touched food away from her before crossing her arms over her chest.
Ron smiled sympathetically "Well, you never know Hermione. She doesn't seem bad to me."
"That's because you're male! You are male and she is half-veela!" Hermione screeched.
"Jeeze Hermione, is living with Malfoy getting to you that much already? Let's just get through our first defense against the dark arts class and then we can make our decision about her." Ron suggested, calmly munching on a piece of toast.
"Yes, it is getting to me, and I have already seen her encourage and compliment Draco. What more do I need to know?"
Harry frowned worriedly, "Hermione. This isn't like you. Usually you're the one trying to tell Ron or I to calm down." As Hermione opened her mouth to speak, Harry held up his hand in a gesture for silence, "look, I don't know what's bothering you, but if Ron or I can help, please tell us."
"Yeah. We can take care of Malfoy for you if you'd like!" Ron added around a mouthful of toast.
Hermione looked about to have another outburst regarding Professor Rose, so Harry made what he thought would be a complete change of subject. "So, are either of you planning on trying for a spot to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?"
Ron shook his head, almost laughing, "Nah. Everyone knows you'll be picked to compete, Harry. Besides, I saw what you had to do three years ago, and quite honestly, I'm not sure I could handle a dragon."
Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I think you could. Besides, I may not even enter. Give someone else a chance, y'know?"
Hermione leapt from her seat, slamming her palm down on the table, "No! Harry, you have to enter!"
Harry looked up at her, puzzled, "Hermione? Wha-"
"You have to. You can't give Malfoy the chance to compete!"
"Hermione?" Harry was still genuinely confused, "What are you talking about?"
"Malfoy. Professor Rose is encouraging him to enter the Triwizard Tournament. You can't let him be picked to compete! He's one of You-Know- Who's. or at least his father is." Seeming to suddenly realize that she was standing, with a small blush, Hermione took her seat.
Having noticed Hermione's outburst (just as half the hall had) McGonagall made her way over to the Gryffindor table and laid her hand on Hermione's shoulder, "Miss Granger, please keep the volume of your voice a bit lower. As Head Girl your responsibility is not only to your house, but to all of Hogwarts, including," she paused to look at Harry and Ron as well before continuing, "the Head Boy. As for Harry entering the Triwizard Tournament, I am afraid he doesn't have a choice. After having won once already, an considering what happened that year, Harry is not permitted to enter again." She smiled at Hermione, "However, I don't think that exactly ruins Gryffindor's chances for a champion, now does it?"
Hermione blushed furiously, either out of shame or pleased embarrassment, "No Professor, it doesn't."
"So you will offer your name to the Goblet of Fire?" McGonagall encouraged.
"Of course I will," Hermione assured her. As McGonagall walked away and out of earshot she added, "If only to make sure that Malfoy doesn't win."
Hermione entered defense against the dark arts with the mindset that it was going to be a disaster, even though Ron and Harry continued to try to convince her otherwise.
As the students filtered in and began to take their seats, Hermione inwardly groaned, seeing Draco Malfoy, surrounded by his pack of Slytherin sluts, headed by Pansy, saunter into the room.
Even if he is built and handsome and just about every girl in the school thinks he's the best thing since Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, he's still a pig!
"Am I so good looking that even you have to stare at me? Honestly Granger. I thought the Head Girl would have a little more dignity." Draco scoffed, shoving past Hermione with his harem close behind, followed up by Crabbe and Goyle who looked rather glum that they didn't have a harem.
Blushing for about the millionth time that day and somehow unable to think of a witty comeback, Hermione managed to stumble over to a seat next to Harry and fall into it with a moan of self-pity.
"Don't let him get to you. Honestly Hermoine. I don't know what's gotten into you." Harry shook his head.
"It's just Malfoy. I have to deal with him 24/7." She replied hollowly, but she could tell that Harry was having an exceedingly hard time believing her.
Harry was actually about to voice the opinion that there was no way in hell he believed her when Professor Rose floated into the room and the entire class fell silent.
For some inexplicable reason, Ophelia's robes seemed to cling to her body, accentuating her willowy form and graceful movement. Standing before the class, she smiled the same distant smile she had been giving everyone since she had arrived at Hogwarts, "Hello class. Before we begin our first lesson I would like to introduce myself and dispel a few rumours. I am Professor Ophelia Rose, your new defense against the dark arts teacher. Contrary to popular belief I am not veela. Not entirely. Rather, I am a half-veela. If I were a true veela none of you would be able to listen to me you would be so enamored by how I would appear to you and the magic I would be emitting."
From the back of the room one particularly bitter girl piped up, "Most of them can't pay attention to anything but you anyway."
Ophelia sighed sadly, "So I've noticed. That is why our first lesson will be on resisting the charms of a veela. One student has already taken it upon himself to learn this spell. Mr. Malfoy, would you be so kind as to come to the front of the room?"
With a nonchalant shrug, Draco stood upon Professor Rose's beckoning and strode to the front of the class, shooting a superior look in Harry and Hermione's direction as Rose began speaking again.
"This is not so much a spell I will be teaching you as it is a magical work of willpower," as the professor spoke, Hermione watched the eyes of the young men around her follow the beautiful woman's every movement, "To perform the initial spell you must take out your wand, point it at me and shout resisto lustano! As you do so, imagine a wall being built up around me. Now, the trick to this spell and the reason it is so hard to perform successfully is because you must subconsciously maintain this wall at all times. If, by chance, your wall weakens, you must recast the spell, which can be quite a bother," turning to Draco, she added, "Would you demonstrate the spell please?"
With a confidence that made Hermione sick to watch, Draco held out his wand and said in a close to bored tone "Resisto lustano." As he spoke, a thin beam of yellow light was emitted from his wand and reached out to the professor, wrapping itself around her until, with a final shimmer, it faded away. This being done, Draco returned his wand to his robe, but remained standing in the front of the room.
"Alright, now it's your turn." The professor indicated to the wands lying on her student's desks, untouched, "well, go on, try it."
When no one even stirred to pick up their wand, Ophelia sighed with exaggerated resignation, "I suppose then, that Mr. Malfoy is the only one among us who wishes to test the limits of his abilities."
At that, Hermione shot out of her seat, held up her wand and declared "Resisto lustano!" a thin thread of light, looking exactly like Draco's shot from her wand and wrapped itself, cocoon-like around the professor before dissolving into nothing.
"An impressive display, Miss Granger. It's amzing what one can do when given the correct motivation." A few of the Slytherins snickered and Hermione turned a deep shade of pink once more. Taking pity on Hogwarts' Head Girl, Professor Rose smiled "Very well done. Please take your seat."
Following Hermione's example, thread after thread of light began zooming towards the new professor, some forming a cocoon, others dissolving before they reached the willowy young woman who smiled at each spell successfully cast on her.
Per the usual, Neville found himself at odds with their newest spell, shooting weak spurts of oddly colored light threads at Rose repeatedly while Harry, Ron and Hermione tried in vain to get the spell to work correctly. Draco, who had since returned to his seat, smirked and let out a malicious laugh.
"Having trouble Longbottom? Maybe it's true love!"
Ophelia whirled on her heels and glared at Draco, a great emptiness in her voice, "With a veela there is no love."
