Shortly Thereafter
Chapter 2. Pangs of Pity and Potter's Kid
"Ms. Granger," a voice pulled Hermione from her thoughts. "Are you alright?"
Hermione looked up to find Shawn Wood looking at her concern filling his brilliant blue eyes. Hermione smiled. Shawn Wood had his mother's eyes.
"I'm fine Shawn," she reassured him. "How's your mom and dad doing?" Oliver Wood had hooked up with Alicia Spinnet a year out of school and were married in the spring. Shawn was the eldest of their children, three years older than his sister Kelsey.
"Mum's fine," The brown haired boy answered brightly, convinced that his teacher was fine. "Dad is fine too, but he's a bit crotchety since he can't play quidditch." Shawn suddenly looked pained as though he had said too much.
Hermione laughed inwardly. "How's your dad's shoulder doing?" Wood had injured his shoulder a month prior and the Healers at St. Mungo's had decided to let it heal Muggle-style, for reasons to complicated to explain here.
"It's healing fine, though not fast enough for Dad." Shawn reported. He turned and sat down in a seat next to a redheaded boy. The two chatted amiably for a minute or so until the class had assembled and Hermione hushed.
Hermione looked over her class list. She had 13 students total ranging from fourth years to seventh years.
Morgan Avinast 7th year
Chaverick Goyle 4th year
Phil Janter 5th year
Robyn Keaklin 5th year
Magrette Leekra 7th year
Lizzy Omposim 4th year
Cameron Paperma 6th year
Carmen Paperma 6th year
Ahava Peckroh 7th year
Mindy Smitte 5th year
Caleb Taikore 7th year
Shawn Wood 4th year
Lauri Wyles 6th year
Hermione took attendance, identifying the teenagers as she went along. Goyle, big like his father. The Paperma twins, identical from their jet black hair to the matching mischievous glint in their eyes. Mindy Smitte, brilliant blonde hair and the trademark Slytherin sneer. Laurie Wyles, quiet and shy, baby blue eyes framed by glasses.
"Put away your wands," Hermione instructed, shuffling through one of her desk drawers. Her request was greeted by disappointed groans. "We're going outside.
On the other side of the school, Draco Malfoy was trying in vain to bring his class of rowdy first years into some sort of conformity. The second he got one group of kids quieted enough to actually be heard, something set off another group of kids. It seemed in all honesty, hopeless.
"Alright!" Draco bellowed, kicking himself mentally for yelling at the class in the first five minutes of the first day. "If each and every one of you pint-sized terrors do not shut your ever-open mouth, I will see that none of you ever fly so much as a foot off the ground." It was an empty threat, but none of the first years were going to challenge the authority of the towering bulk of a teacher in front of them anymore.
Draco exhaled through his nose and began to take attendance.
Mark Avinast? Here.
Roy Keaklin? Here.
Pam Lackley? Here.
Soury Nombris? Here.
Caeli Potter?
Caeli Potter?!
"Caeli Potter?" He called.
"Aye?" A small, black haired girl emerged from a crowd of students. Her black hair fell to her shoulders, pulled back into a half pony tail by a clip.
"Are you...?" Draco trailed off, already knowing the answer.
Caeli's green eyes twinkled. "Yup," she told him grinning, though not in a prideful way. "Harry Potter's my dad."
Great. Out of all the bloody first years in Hogwarts, he would get Potter's daughter in his first class. What a brilliant way to start out the year.
Second period left Hermione in exuberant mood. Her first lesson had gone smoothly. The teenagers had been introduced to basketball and they'd loved it. After they'd gotten over the initial shock of a sport brooms, they found that it was somewhat like quidditch, minus the brooms. Of course, Hermione had to explain to that oaf of a boy, Chaverick Goyle, numerous times that there are absolutely no bludgers in basketball and he should not use the ball in such a manner. Still things were going well.
When she got back inside, she found a number of books stacked neatly on her desk. As she suspected they were the books she had dropped earlier. Hermione made a mental note to thank the house elves.
The remaining periods flew by. Hermione was a good teacher and her students, with a few exceptions, were genuinely interested in the subject. She couldn't ask for more.
After running to her rooms to freshen up—basketball had been exhausting—Hermione headed to the Great Hall. She was starving.
When she got to the Great Hall, she was surprised to see Malfoy sitting next to her usual seat instead of McGonagall. Draco must have seen the confusion in her eyes, because he answered her question before she could ask it.
"The professor wanted to talk to Snape," he informed her dryly. Then with the tiniest trace of a smirk he added, "So your suck with me today."
Hermione sighed and sat down. She began to eat the meal suddenly. Dealing with jerk-face Malfoy was no on her list of things to do today.
A sharp rap on the table interrupted her apparently dismal mood. A small black haired girl stood before her. Shaking off her dismal mood, Hermione smiled warmly at the girl. "Yes, Caeli?"
"Hi, 'Mione," Caeli said, using her nickname. "Mum told me to give this to you." She produced and envelop from a pocket in her robes.
"Thank you, Caeli." Hermione leaned over the table to kiss Caeli on the forehead. "How are Ginny and your dad doing?"
"They're fine, although worried sick about me. Honestly I think I'm fine, don't you?" She turned and went back to her table but not before greeting Malfoy. "Hi. Mr. Malfoy."
As soon as she was out of earshot, Hermione turned on Draco. "She's in your class. Why didn't you tell me?"
"You never asked." Draco said simply. He looked worn out, Hermione noticed, and tired. In short, he looked as if he had no energy to dish out any snide or sharp comments.
"Hard day?" Hermione asked, asking herself at the same time why she cared.
"To put it lightly." Draco answered with wry smile. "After this year is over I'm going to need some serious therapy." He chuckled softly to himself, but his laughter was without mirth.
Hermione felt an uncharactoristic pang of pity for her old foe. To her mind Draco just really wasn't teacher material. WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! Hold on! Pity? That was understandable, Hermione was a compasionate person. But Pity for Malfoy? Hermione started to smile to herself ant the absurdity of it. Her smile froze when she realized that she knew, deep in her heart, it wasn't absurd at all. That perhaps pity was on the beginning.
"Ms. Granger," a voice pulled Hermione from her thoughts. "Are you alright?"
Hermione looked up to find Shawn Wood looking at her concern filling his brilliant blue eyes. Hermione smiled. Shawn Wood had his mother's eyes.
"I'm fine Shawn," she reassured him. "How's your mom and dad doing?" Oliver Wood had hooked up with Alicia Spinnet a year out of school and were married in the spring. Shawn was the eldest of their children, three years older than his sister Kelsey.
"Mum's fine," The brown haired boy answered brightly, convinced that his teacher was fine. "Dad is fine too, but he's a bit crotchety since he can't play quidditch." Shawn suddenly looked pained as though he had said too much.
Hermione laughed inwardly. "How's your dad's shoulder doing?" Wood had injured his shoulder a month prior and the Healers at St. Mungo's had decided to let it heal Muggle-style, for reasons to complicated to explain here.
"It's healing fine, though not fast enough for Dad." Shawn reported. He turned and sat down in a seat next to a redheaded boy. The two chatted amiably for a minute or so until the class had assembled and Hermione hushed.
Hermione looked over her class list. She had 13 students total ranging from fourth years to seventh years.
Morgan Avinast 7th year
Chaverick Goyle 4th year
Phil Janter 5th year
Robyn Keaklin 5th year
Magrette Leekra 7th year
Lizzy Omposim 4th year
Cameron Paperma 6th year
Carmen Paperma 6th year
Ahava Peckroh 7th year
Mindy Smitte 5th year
Caleb Taikore 7th year
Shawn Wood 4th year
Lauri Wyles 6th year
Hermione took attendance, identifying the teenagers as she went along. Goyle, big like his father. The Paperma twins, identical from their jet black hair to the matching mischievous glint in their eyes. Mindy Smitte, brilliant blonde hair and the trademark Slytherin sneer. Laurie Wyles, quiet and shy, baby blue eyes framed by glasses.
"Put away your wands," Hermione instructed, shuffling through one of her desk drawers. Her request was greeted by disappointed groans. "We're going outside.
On the other side of the school, Draco Malfoy was trying in vain to bring his class of rowdy first years into some sort of conformity. The second he got one group of kids quieted enough to actually be heard, something set off another group of kids. It seemed in all honesty, hopeless.
"Alright!" Draco bellowed, kicking himself mentally for yelling at the class in the first five minutes of the first day. "If each and every one of you pint-sized terrors do not shut your ever-open mouth, I will see that none of you ever fly so much as a foot off the ground." It was an empty threat, but none of the first years were going to challenge the authority of the towering bulk of a teacher in front of them anymore.
Draco exhaled through his nose and began to take attendance.
Mark Avinast? Here.
Roy Keaklin? Here.
Pam Lackley? Here.
Soury Nombris? Here.
Caeli Potter?
Caeli Potter?!
"Caeli Potter?" He called.
"Aye?" A small, black haired girl emerged from a crowd of students. Her black hair fell to her shoulders, pulled back into a half pony tail by a clip.
"Are you...?" Draco trailed off, already knowing the answer.
Caeli's green eyes twinkled. "Yup," she told him grinning, though not in a prideful way. "Harry Potter's my dad."
Great. Out of all the bloody first years in Hogwarts, he would get Potter's daughter in his first class. What a brilliant way to start out the year.
Second period left Hermione in exuberant mood. Her first lesson had gone smoothly. The teenagers had been introduced to basketball and they'd loved it. After they'd gotten over the initial shock of a sport brooms, they found that it was somewhat like quidditch, minus the brooms. Of course, Hermione had to explain to that oaf of a boy, Chaverick Goyle, numerous times that there are absolutely no bludgers in basketball and he should not use the ball in such a manner. Still things were going well.
When she got back inside, she found a number of books stacked neatly on her desk. As she suspected they were the books she had dropped earlier. Hermione made a mental note to thank the house elves.
The remaining periods flew by. Hermione was a good teacher and her students, with a few exceptions, were genuinely interested in the subject. She couldn't ask for more.
After running to her rooms to freshen up—basketball had been exhausting—Hermione headed to the Great Hall. She was starving.
When she got to the Great Hall, she was surprised to see Malfoy sitting next to her usual seat instead of McGonagall. Draco must have seen the confusion in her eyes, because he answered her question before she could ask it.
"The professor wanted to talk to Snape," he informed her dryly. Then with the tiniest trace of a smirk he added, "So your suck with me today."
Hermione sighed and sat down. She began to eat the meal suddenly. Dealing with jerk-face Malfoy was no on her list of things to do today.
A sharp rap on the table interrupted her apparently dismal mood. A small black haired girl stood before her. Shaking off her dismal mood, Hermione smiled warmly at the girl. "Yes, Caeli?"
"Hi, 'Mione," Caeli said, using her nickname. "Mum told me to give this to you." She produced and envelop from a pocket in her robes.
"Thank you, Caeli." Hermione leaned over the table to kiss Caeli on the forehead. "How are Ginny and your dad doing?"
"They're fine, although worried sick about me. Honestly I think I'm fine, don't you?" She turned and went back to her table but not before greeting Malfoy. "Hi. Mr. Malfoy."
As soon as she was out of earshot, Hermione turned on Draco. "She's in your class. Why didn't you tell me?"
"You never asked." Draco said simply. He looked worn out, Hermione noticed, and tired. In short, he looked as if he had no energy to dish out any snide or sharp comments.
"Hard day?" Hermione asked, asking herself at the same time why she cared.
"To put it lightly." Draco answered with wry smile. "After this year is over I'm going to need some serious therapy." He chuckled softly to himself, but his laughter was without mirth.
Hermione felt an uncharactoristic pang of pity for her old foe. To her mind Draco just really wasn't teacher material. WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! Hold on! Pity? That was understandable, Hermione was a compasionate person. But Pity for Malfoy? Hermione started to smile to herself ant the absurdity of it. Her smile froze when she realized that she knew, deep in her heart, it wasn't absurd at all. That perhaps pity was on the beginning.