Disclaimer: Everyone except Jones belongs to JKR.
A/N: This chapter is coming a bit earlier than it should, but I'm getting carried away! Please tell me if you'd like me to either a) carry on or b) stop submitting and lock myself in a darkened room.
Sorry about Lockhart's abrupt departure. Depending on how feedback goes, he could be back. J (That's if you want him to be)
Thanks for the reviews so far. It's great to know at least four people in the world know my story exists!
The following Thursday, the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses of the 5th years trundled down to the Muggle Studies classroom. Dumbledore felt that after school was the most appropriate time for this personal and social education, that Miss Jones had planned for those students who didn't take Muggle Studies past the third year.
It was the most eagerly anticipated lesson of the week. Who was this woman? Why, with no magical qualifications, was she appointed? Why had Dumbledore given her such a ludicrously short interview?
"I think she's great," stated Hermione as they arrived at the classroom.
"You haven't even met her yet!" exclaimed Ron.
"Yes, but she's obviously a strong female, I mean the way she stood up to Snape…"
"But he takes it out on us!" cried Harry. "Perhaps he takes lessons in being vindictive or something, but a five-foot essay on 'the aphrodisiacal properties of chocolate and its place in modern love-potion making' is pretty nasty".
"It isn't if you know where to look," scoffed Hermione.
"Perhaps he fancies her. You know, all that talk about aphrodisiacs and hot melted chocolate…" he gyrated his hips. "Perhaps he's in the mood for lurve." Both Harry and Hermione laughed.
They had reached Miss Jones' classroom. "Oh no, perhaps the feeling is requited," said Ron, pointing a large sign on her door. It said: Only people bearing chocolate may enter.
"I hope not," Harry shuddered. "Lots of little Snapes running around…"
The door opened. The new Muggle Studies teacher stood in the doorway. It seemed she hadn't quite taken to the wearing of robes; she was dressed in a pair of tight black trousers and a beautifully cut Italian white shirt. It illuminated her curves perfectly.
She held out a hand. "Chocolate?" she smiled. "OK, I forgive you, it's your first lesson. But next time, make sure you all bring a bar…"
Suddenly an apple flew through the air, directly at Miss Jones' head. She caught it expertly. Her eyes traced the apple's path back to the thrower.
"Aah, you must be Mr Malfoy," she said.
Draco stepped forward, looking very pleased with himself.
Jones continued. "I had a very interesting conversation with your father the other day," she stated.
"You've met my father?"
"Oh yes, I must say he is rather full of himself isn't he? It is nice to see that sort of attitude is hereditary," she said simply.
Malfoy blanched. He scowled at her, and made an almost incoherent comment: "filthy Mudblood."
"Excuse me, Mr Malfoy, I'll have none of that in my class." Jones said. "One more comment on those lines and you'll have more than apples coming your way." It was a thinly veiled threat, which carried more weight than if she was actually wielding a wand.
Suddenly Jones smiled. "Come in, you lot. Settle down."
They all filed in the room. No sooner had they sat down, there was a knock on the door. It was Snape.
"Chocolate?" Jones asked him.
"What?"
"Can't you read Professor Snipe?" she said, pointing to the poster.
"Snape," he said through gritted teeth.
"Whatever. You can't come in here with no chocolate." Jones was trying to sound serious, although her expression was playful. "These fifth years haven't, but it's their first lesson, they're forgiven. However, Mr Malfoy brought me an apple, I think he's making a subtle comment about the size of my thighs, but then he does seem to be a bit slow, bless him. Do you think I've got big thighs?"
She said all of this very fast.
Snape scanned her over, with something remarkably like lust in his eyes.
"No," he whispered, his eyes still firmly fixed on Jones' legs.
"Oh good," she said. "I'd hate to think I did have. Anything you wanted?"
She placed her hands on her hips, and flashed a broad smile at him.
Snape suddenly realised that he was in a classroom of fifth years, all of whom were staring at him.
"Er..no." He walked away, perplexed and muttering incoherently.
Ron turned disbelievingly to Harry and Hermione. "He does fancy her!"
To be continued….