Chapter Twenty-Eight:

"What is this place?" Draco asked, looking at the red light and the antiquated décor of the house they had just entered. He had a nasty suspicion as to what it was, and he wasn't sure he liked the idea. "It's not a…?"

"But of course it is," Cass replied brightly. A little boy of about six appeared, dressed in a nice Muggle suit, and she whistled, calling him over. "I'd like a word with Mel."

"Sure thing, Auntie Cat." The little boy scampered off. Hermione and Draco were astonished.

"What?" Cass asked, looking at them in confusion.

"You're a Hogwarts professor, and yet you know people –that is…ladies of ill repute?" Draco stammered.

"Naturally."

"Er…how did you ever meet –erm…"

"The Internet, 'Mione, and don't look so shocked." Cass grinned affably and began flipping through a ledger on what resembled a hotel sign-in desk. "It's a perfectly decent profession, though not necessarily my cup of tea, and who's to condemn what works for others?"

"But they're…you know…"

"Draco, if you've never met a hooker, you are missing out on some good conversation and a lot of fun. They're a better class of people than purebloody sticks-up-arse."

"It does sort of sound fascinating," Hermione observed timidly. "Sort of like Belle Watling in 'Gone With the Wind.'"

"Oh, you've read that, too?" a quite ordinary-looking female asked, appearing from another room. "I always felt Scarlett was a little cartoonish, but Belle/Rhett makes for some lovely angsty fics."

"Hermione and Draco, if I may introduce the mistress of magical miscreance herself, Melanie Watling."

"It's nice to meet you," Draco responded automatically. Some things were just programmed into wealthy kids. "Er- are you really a-?"

"Hooker? Yes, though the term 'courtesan' has a much nicer ring to it." Mel smiled and motioned for them to follow her. "The costume makes it hard to tell, doesn't it?" She was dressed in a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, on top of ragged jeans. "So Lady Cat's your professor, eh?"

Both students glanced at Cass. Mel sat down at a computer, smiling.

"You haven't even gotten them hooked on it, have you, mate?"

"I haven't even shown them what it is." Cass shrugged. "With the homework they get, there's no time for addiction."

"Poor kids," Mel observed wryly, tapping at the keys. Draco was, by now, quite ashen.

"Are you talking about Muggle drugs?" he asked.

"Sweet satan, you haven't told the albino anything!" Mel chastised Cass. "Draco –whatever it is, have you ever been on the Internet?"

"Oh, gods," Cass gasped, turning to face the wall.

"No, ma'am."

"Poor kid. You haven't seen anything." Mel called up a website and began to search links. "Have you ever read a Muggle book?"

"My mother made me read 'Les Miserables,'" Draco offered. Hermione was also quite confused, but she thought she recognized the site. "I sort of did like it."

"Okay. Books, 'Les Miserables,' here!" Mel had called up a list of links. "This, darling kids, is called fanfiction." The hooker sent Cass a mischievous grin. "Your professor is one of the best-known slash and het writers."

"Cass!" Hermione was shocked. "Slash?"

"Oh, so you know what's going on!" Mel happily patted Hermione on the shoulder. "You write?"

"I just used to read it sometimes on the summer breaks."

"Lurker. Tell me you reviewed."

"Only the good ones."

"Spiffy, Lady Cat. Now to take the albino's virginity." Draco went absolutely scarlet as Mel got up and gave him her chair. "Read that," she instructed, calling a story up. "You use the mouse to make it scroll down."

"Mel, that is really unethical. Scaring virgins."

"Hey, the addiction should be shared with all. How's the chapter on your new angsty fic?"

"Rotten. Been building a new system, need a part."

"So that's why you came on my night off. What sort of hard you need?"

"New cheese nibblers for five, PS/2, and a read-only wheel."

"Still want that grill I promised?"

"Is it in?"

"Ready and cabled. Your petit-sibs non voker scrivny chat?"

"Not a speck, except maybe girlie sib, petit."

"Naw sharr. Blank slate countin'." Mel smiled. "Other one's on the ashtray side. Mixling or pole-up-arse?"

"More like log."

"Tragique. The parcel to your sinister's got the pogue."

"You pulled 'em?"

"Ring flash. Pull a puller, eh?"

Cass grinned.

"You're a good friend, Mel."

"And you're a good writer. When in the hell is your next chapter?"

"I'll beat keys tonight. How much leaf you want?"

"Usual apiece." Cass handed the hooker a roll of bills. Just then, Draco burst into laughter and nearly choked himself.

"Merlin's balls, that's hilarious!"

"See?" Mel asked. "Told you he'd like the site."

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From the journal of Bilius Arthur 'Bill' Weasley, Professor:

            I should owl the house-elves to bring up some food, since Maria's meeting me here tonight. It's positively sad the way Robby elf's been fawning on me lately. One or two compliments and the poor elf goes mad. True, his ham sandwiches are lovely, though. I love that brown mustard he uses, wonder what sort it is. Pumpernickel bread is definitely better than rye, though, I'm sure of it. Something about the color makes me fond of it. I wonder if I could talk Robby or one of the other elves into getting some chicken up, maybe with that potato salad Winky makes and some of those pickles…

(Some paragraphs of the food nature omitted, Mr. Weasley having clearly been hungry.)

            There again, Maria's friend what's-her-name mentioned she liked crisps. I'm fond of them myself, even if they are rather bad for you. That's likely why Mum only had them about the house for parties and such. I do prefer girls who don't mind a crisp or two. That poor girl Amy Spinnet was nearly anorexic trying to stay small for Quidditch, and I reckon that was why Charlie switched her to Beating. Her sister Alicia played as well. I know because Ron inherited her spot. Harry's new lineup's been really good, but I don't like to bring that up because Maria's a Slytherin. It's astonishing how badly those snakes treat women, for all the 'pure-bloods' are supposed to be noble and chivalrous. Miserable inbred gits!

            I wish I could trust myself alone with her overnight. I don't want to scare her, or push her into doing anything she'd regret, but I'm –I can't believe I'm even writing this. I'm falling in love with one of my students. Holy hell! What would my mother say?

            Nevermind. Mum would probably be rooting for the girl.

            Am I crazy? Is this a bad idea? I know that rules and ethics say I can't love her, but emotions and the facts of how wonderful she is say I must, or I'd be insane. How can I not love her, when she reads and thinks and challenges anything she thinks is wrong, to the point when even if she's off her nut I agree with her? She has that darling way of frowning over her assignment and biting at her lip when she concentrates, and absentmindedly gazing at nothing when she's finished with that mysterious little smile. She's had so little to smile about, and yet she seems to smile more often every day. Is it because of me? Does she know I care about her the way I do? I think-

(Large inkblot where Mr. Weasley evidently slammed journal shut on pen.)

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"What exactly did you two say back there?" Hermione asked Cass. Draco was sitting happily in the backseat with a printed-out sheaf of 'Les Miserables' and 'Lord of the Rings' fanfic, laughing occasionally. "And what language was it in?"

"Scrivny chat," Cass explained. "Writer slang."

"Writer slang?" Hermione frowned in disbelief. "I don't remember any of that in the ones I read."

"It developed in chatrooms and when the writers met irl," Cass explained. "I just told Mel what parts I needed and answered a few questions about you two. She thought Draco was dishy and asked if he was a pureblood or a Muggle-born."

"You mean she's a witch?"

"An ex-witch." Cass grinned ruefully. "Her family was all Death Eaters and whatnot, so she snapped her wand and went to live with the Muggles and courtesans."

"She became a hooker by choice?"

"Hey, I didn't say I understood her, duck. Maybe she likes the ...work, or perhaps she saw 'Pretty Woman' one too many times."

"Melanie Watling's not her real name, then?"

"No more'n mine's Lady Cat."

"I didn't know fanfiction was written by hookers -and professors," Hermione commented, trying not to seem too shaken by Melanie's ...choice of occupation. "What-all was it you needed?"

"Five mice and a CD-ROM drive, plus she had the burner I asked for a month ago."

"So that's what a grill is."

"Grills burn things, so do CD burners."

"And cheese nibblers are mice."

"Right in one."

"Cass, you're mad."

"Thank you. Draco-boy, are you buckled up?"

"Yeah," Draco replied absently. "What's a hobbit?"

"Gaaah!"

Cass had flipped the car and was now driving at a very high speed, upside-down. Draco failed to notice, as the papers were all in his hands and didn't so much as rustle from the change. Hermione, however, was bordering on terrified.

"You crazy werewolf, put it right!"

"Hmm?" Draco looked up from the story he was reading. Shocked quite thoroughly, he barely managed to squeak out a 'help' before Cass gunned Dingo's motor like a bat out of hell and drove through a neat series of almost vertical loops. Draco finally relaxed his death grip on the back of the front seat and began tentatively to smile during the first loop. Hermione was by then calling her professor every expletive she knew, including a few specially invented for the occasion. The werewolf put the car through a series of rollercoaster-like dips and turns, all at speeds well beyond legal and even safe. Draco let out a cheer, finally enjoying the insane ride. Hermione swore and hid her eyes, terrified.

At last, Cass brought Dingo down, slowing to a stop on the ground, directly in front of a familiar, slightly ramshackle house. Several garden gnomes chittered away at the car's landing and a redhaired man emerged from the house, napkin still around his neck.

"Holy crumbs!" Arthur dropped his fork on the head of a garden gnome. "Mrs. Tyler, you didn't mention that it worked!"

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"It was awful."

"It was exciting."

"She belongs in St. Mungo's."

"She's a great driver."

"I'm going to be sick."

"I'm going to see if I can get her to teach me how to drive."

Draco left, heading toward the garage in back of the Tyler's 'Shack' and Hermione found herself being hugged.

"Darling, I should have warned you."

"You knew that miserable lump of tin could fly?"

"Well, no, but I did suspect her of driving recklessly." Severus shrugged.

"Recklessly?" Hermione sank into a couch with Snape beside. "Severus, that bordered on homicidal. Just exactly what is that girl's problem?"

"Blood," John Tyler replied tacitly, appearing from inside a closet. There was a roll of flowered shelf paper in his hand.

"What do you mean, blood?" Severus asked.

"Cassie has wild blood." John set the shelf paper down and picked up a screwdriver to open a paint can, as if his explanation was perfectly logical. Noticing his friends' blank faces, however, he continued. "It's complicated. Cassie's civilized enough, but I've noticed a few odd tendencies from the day I met her."

"Like her driving?"

"Naw, that's just playing. Wolves play a lot, you know."  As he spoke, John neatly painted a smiley face on the wall, then covered it over with the paint. "Have you noticed she holds a grudge like hell?"

"Doesn't she have a right in the case of –you know?" Hermione tried to be tactful. John sighed and scratched at his beard.

"In that case, yes. But she also holds grudges against herself. It's like she needs anger and something to rail against to survive."

"I know a few people who are like that," Severus pointed out. "Minerva McGonagall, for one."

"I've seen her at Quidditch games –you're not wrong, my friend. But she doesn't wage war on Slytherins. The minute Moldy-Voldy's put in lavender, Cassie's going to want to go and fight something else."

"Put in lavender?"

"Moldy-Voldy?" Snape couldn't restrain a smile.

"Put in lavender means killed," John explained. "I also think her dad's got something to do with it."

"Does she miss him, here in England?"

"She misses her father, yes," John replied bitterly. "She also doesn't know who her father is." He abuptly dropped the paintbrush and punched the wall with his fist, splintering lath and sending plaster dust to the floor. His expression didn't so much as change during the outburst. "Goddamn."

Hermione was already off the couch. She delicately pulled the splinters out of John's hand and began to mumble healing charms, none of which the werewolf noticed.

"How is that?" Severus asked gently.

"Her mother was attacked before she was born. All her life there was doubt, but now she knows the man she grew up with isn't her biological father." John sighed. "If she were an ordinary Muggle, or if her mother had been a witch, it would be alright, but now she has to wonder if she was fathered by a Dark wizard. I don't think she's too far off the mark in that."

"How so?" Severus frowned. "She's American."

John shook his head, smiling in a halfhearted, bitter way.

"Not quite. The attack happened in Britain."

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"Gaw dammit," Cass observed wryly, rubbing her ankle. "That was a shit landing."

"Good race, though," Draco replied encouragingly.

In the few weeks since Malfoy had been introduced to Cass's driving habits, the two had been sharing their affinity for fast things, brooms included. The professor was dressed in a genuinely odd assortment of Quidditch things, 'borrowed' from the retire piles in the locker room. She had old Ravenclaw robes over a Hufflepuff jersey and some Slytherin pants. The only thing not swiped was her pair of Quidditch gloves.

"I think I sprained it."

"That 'ent good." Draco was starting to pick up a few American words in his speech. "Hold still." The lean sixth-year neatly picked his teacher up. "You're lighter than I thought."

"Put me down, snakey-boy."

"You need to see Madam Pomfrey about that foot."

"I can walk on it!"

"Sure."

"Aw, f'rchrissakes, Draco!"

"Say, you're a mudblood, aren't you?"

"Muddy as the Mon' River."

"I think we're turning into friends."

"Yes. Buddies. Can you put me down before I claw your nuts off?"

"No, this is neat. I've never had a Yankee friend before."

"Draco, watch out for the-" THUNK! Cass sighed and picked herself up. "Goalpost."

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