[Author Notes:
moonlite roses: who is simon crowell?
lizdarcy1: part of the reason of being in a community is being able to write back to the people that comment on your stories. i like to know who leaves comments on the story
prowlingkitkat: didn't mean intentionally to be rude, just a little touchy. this is my first fanfiction.
to everyone else: thanks for the patience. its been a hectic last few weeks. will try to update as soon as possible]

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JKR.

Plot: Draco/Hermione. Don't like it? Go somewhere else. This is my story. And I did warn you in the summary. As for the actual plot being original, no one has a copyright on the entire school idea. If so, Hollywood would be in serious trouble

Chapter 8: The New DADA class

After Arithmancy class, both Seamus and Hermione started down the hall and into the East Wing, where the Advanced DADA class was to be held. Like everyone in the school, they were all intensely curious about their new teacher. More importantly, they were curious as to where Dumbledore had found her. After the dismissal of Trelawney and the hiring of Firenze for the position of Divinations professor, most of the student body was surprised that the professor was human, or at least appeared humanoid. And pretty. Hermione thought she looked like a china doll she often saw in muggle toy shops, with her porcelain complexion and eyes blacker than Hecuba's ink. Seamus kept saying that he hoped that she'd last throughout the entire year; she seemed awfully delicate.

When they finally arrived to the DADA classroom, they were thunderstruck by the change in décor. Instead of damp, stony floors and wooden benches, they were greeted by tatami covered floors and with individual desks that sat low on the floor, so that it looked like you had to sit on the floor to be able to use them. The walls were covered in wall scrolls, some with writing on it and some that appeared to be landscapes, misty mountains were the mist swirled about with running streams and storks grazing in the marshy shallows. The air was fragrant with incense sticks that seemed to be burning in all four corners of the room. At the front of the class, there was a huge blackboard and another individual desk.

Hermione quickly noted that they were sharing the classroom with Slytherins and both her and Seamus moved to the Gryffindor side of the room. Seamus moved to sit by Dean and she found herself between Harry and Ron again. The room was relatively packed since most of the students thought it wise to take the advanced levels of DADA in these troubled times. Why the Slytherins opted to do so was a continuing puzzle, although it was often speculated that they merely wanted to know what their enemies knew.

No sooner had Hermione sat down that a gong resounded in the room, its echo resounding throughout the room as the students quieted down and awaited the teacher with bated breath. She entered the room from her office, gliding silently, her robes fluttering behind her, trailing like streamers and her head held high, not looking at the students. Once she reached the front of the classroom, she turned to face them.

She surveyed the room as the students surveyed her. At first glance, she appeared unassuming and affable, with her small smile. But there was something else that kept your attention riveted on her. It wasn't that she was extremely beautiful or enchanting, you didn't feel the same compelling force as when you were looking at a Veela. Perhaps it was more of an acknowledgment that this woman was something more. She seemed to irradiate calm and peace.

Then she spoke, in a low and soothing voice that caressed you, like when you run your fingers through silk, "Welcome. I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You may call me Professor Tara. I expect the format of this class will be different from what you are accustomed to, but I do not doubt that you will enjoy it. We have much to do, so expect to devote a good amount of time to completing the tasks I set on you."

No one said anything. What could they say? To Hermione, her words were no different to those of other Professors. She was used to homework. She was surprised that no one groaned. Everyone else just seemed to be entranced by the new professor. A piece of parchment appeared on her desk and Hermione immediately looked down.

"This is a tentative course schedule for the class. If a particular theme or spell takes more time, things will be shifted around to accommodate the loss of time," Professor Tara said as Hermione scanned the course schedule and looked up confused. Her confusion was mirrored in the looks of the others.

"As you can see, the nature of this class has been divided into two. Depending on the week, I will be teaching you the traditional DADA course work. These sessions will tend to be intense as your previous DADA teachers were very irregular. Your Professor Lupin was the one that taught you the most, a situation that has to be rectified post-haste. The other part of the course I will be teaching you wandless magic," Professor Tara said.

"Professor Tara? Did you say wandless magic?" Lavender Brown's voice interrupted the silence. Most of the students were stunned at the thought of being taught wandless magic.

"Yes. From all of your expressions, this appears to be a novel concept. To my mind, it makes the most sense. There are several circumstances in which you will be separated from your wand, making you incredibly defenseless. As your professor, my primary concern is to teach you how to defend yourself in several different scenarios, including those that are without a wand," the Professor explained.

"How did you get past the Ministry's restriction on wandless magic?" Blaise Zabini asked, a question that was burning on everyone's mind.

"The Ministry does not restrict the teachings of muggles," she replied calmly. There was an audible gasp from the entire class. Muggles doing magic? It was impossible.

Their professor laughed heartily, and it was musical like the fluttering of butterflies. "I see that I will have to explain the logic and history behind this class. Nevertheless, it shall prove to be an important lesson and I suggest that perhaps you take note of the answers I give. Or at the very least, remember them," she said calmly.

"Without going into an in-depth discussion or debate on the nature of magic, let us all agree and assume that magic has a myriad of forms. Are we all in agreement?" Professor Tara looked at the class. The Gryffindors nodded their heads. The Slytherins continued to look at the professor inscrutably.

"Good. Everyone is also perfectly aware that a wizard or witch can have muggle parents. Have you ever wondered why? Sometimes, the answer can be found among family history, a long lost ancestor. Other times, there is simply no such answer. In my opinion, it is very simple. Every human carries a tiny spark of magic in them. In some cases, like those of a wizard or a witch, it is a bigger spark or flame."

"My studies took me to the East where I encountered old beliefs and older forms of magic. In the Orient, there was no distinction between being a wizard and being a muggle in some of their magical practices. For them, the ability to perform wand magic was merely a differing characteristic like the color of eyes. Because in essence, we are all alike. We are all human."

Hermione warmed up to this thought. Too often, she had tried to reconcile the magical side of herself and the muggle side. Her parents, ummagical and ungifted, had a gifted child. They were proud of her but Hermione knew that at least part of them were mystified about her powers. More importantly, she had not been able to find a hereditary source for her gift. What Professor Tara said made sense to her.

"Professor, no disrespect intended, but what can muggles teach us?" Malfoy drawled.

Professor Tara turned her attention to Malfoy and gave him a warm smile. "Muggles have been constantly learning how to function within this world without wand magic, without casting a spell to wash dishes or to defend themselves from an attack. There are valuable lessons in their creativity and their endurance. In the West, we have come to rely too much on our gifts and not enough on our two hands. We have ignored the possibilities of our bodies. In the East, there are disciplines that take the spark we all have and have learned to fan it into a flame."

Hermione had read something about the mysterious East in a book once. There magic seemed to work in different ways than their own. She felt excitement growing at the prospect of expanding her field of knowledge.

"Perhaps a demonstration is in order," their teacher said before turning around and using her wand to make a giant rock appear in the front of the classroom. She then turned and walked toward Malfoy and gave him her wand. "You seem to be the most doubtful. Please hold my wand until the very end of the demonstration to assure yourself that I have not been casting any spells," she said before turning around to face the rather large rock.

For a few seconds, the entire class just looked at their Professor. She seemed to almost change in front of them. With her eyes closed, her posture becoming straighter and slightly more rigid and the aura before her seemed to intensify, like an electrical field charging. She took three breaths, opened her eyes and with a step forward, she punched the rock.

She stepped back and the rock began to crack from the point of impact. It crumbled into large chunks.

Hermione could not believe her eyes. It just didn't seem logical. Their teacher had just punched a giant boulder into smithereens. It wasn't possible.

Professor Tara turned around to face them again. "Impossible? You have seen it with your two eyes. Your classmate has held my wand and can testify that I have not cast any spells. So how did I do it?"

Not even Hermione had an answer for this.

"I do not expect any of you to be able to do this at the end of the year. Although you have the gift, you do not have the proper training or discipline to do so. If we had time, I could teach you to be able to do this and much more. However, you will be able to derive other benefits from my teachings, namely increased focus and reflexes," Professor Tara said.

"Could you show us what you mean with increased reflexes?" Dean Thomas asked.

"Of course. This would require all of you to stand next to the left classroom wall and three volunteers," Professor Tara answered.

All of the Gryffindor hands shot up to the air and some of the Slytherins did as well. Professor Tara picked Blaise Zabini, Dean Thomas and Hermione as her volunteers. She gestured for everyone to move to the left wall. "Now, my volunteers need to make bolts of arrows come my way," she said, gesturing to the three piles of arrows that were located in the right corner of the wall, next to the incense. "Accio arrows should suffice."

Dean Thomas and Hermione looked at each other, a little scared and surprised. If something went wrong, would they be held accountable? Would they be accused of attempted murder? Blaise Zabini seemed nonplussed. Professor Tara seemed to notice their hesitation and told them to proceed.

The arrows levitated off the ground. With their wands, Blaise, Dean and Hermione made them fly toward their teacher.

It was almost beautiful to watch. Professor Tara used the overly large and long sleeves of her robes to deflect the arrows, her arms spinning around her as she seemed to weave in and out of their trajectory. It was over in a matter of seconds. The arrows fell in a clank at the right side of the room. After the last arrow, their professor seemed to let out a sigh and turned to face them.

"If there are no more questions, I would like my wand back and we can use the remainder of the class time to refresh what you have learned in previous DADA classes," their teacher said.

---------------------------------- -------------------------------- -------- --------

Draco had picked up his acoustic guitar on the way to the Great Hall for lunch and to pick up Crabbe and Goyle. Given the weather, most of the students were opting to take the food outside and enjoy the dying summer. He ate quickly and left Crabbe and Goyle to continue stuffing their faces. Besides, they had wanted to go workout instead. He avoided Pansy and a gaggle of Slytherin girls by the Entrance Door and made his way into the shade of the trees in the western bank of the Great Lake.

Sitting down at the base of a positively ancient elm tree, Draco surveyed the rest of the school. Students were lounging about. A group of ever-audacious Gryffindors was waddling by the lake, admiring the giant squid as it observed the adventurous group curiously.

He didn't know why he felt the need for sunshine. His disposition was better suited for the evening, when shadows were cast and lengthened. Or for rainy days, the interminable gray in the sky overwhelming and calming at the same time. He knew that he didn't want to be part of fun in the sun as most of the others did. But he didn't feel like staying inside the castle either.

It was just a strange day. It would take a little getting used to this year. First was sharing close living quarters with the annoying know- it-all Granger. Seriously! She just had the ability to get right under his bloody skin. Even on days when they didn't even exchange a glance.

Then there was this utter rubbish about learning muggle discipline with the new DADA teacher. Professor Tara was probably more off her rocker than the batty Professor Trelawney, for all her composure and calm demeanor. Okey, he was willing to admit that her little demonstration in class had been impressive but what was the point? If the Death Eaters were coming for you, what good did it do if you could crumble rock with your bare hands? It wasn't like the Dark Lord was going to hurl a giant boulder at your head.

"Like a young Orpheus, he sits under elm trees and charms the young lasses," Blaise's cheerful taunt rang loudly. If he was a little surprised at seeing Malfoy outside in the sun with his guitar, he kept his comment lighthearted.

Draco snorted in amusement. He doubted he looked like a Greek God in the wilderness. In fact, he was more than willing to bet that the birds and gentle creatures of nature would much rather peck his eyes out than lie about peaceably at his feet. He just didn't irradiate goodness the way Saintly Potter did. "You're only bitter because if you brought out a drum, you'd end up looking like a poor drummer boy," Draco heckled back. Although it was very doubtful that Zabini could ever be mistaken as poor. Blaise was even more fastidious about his clothing than Draco was, although he had more of a flair for the eyecatching than Draco's demure elegance.

"Too true. Not the most glamorous of impressions," Blaise agreed amiably, leaning against a neighboring oak tree. "Instead, you look like you're ready to serenade any girl you fancy."

"Zabini, have you considered a career in public relations. You would make a brilliant manager," Draco answered derisively, although he spoke the truth. Zabini was always looking for the best angle, either for himself or for the circumstances he found himself in.

"It pays to have the band I am in have a lead singer that all the girls are crazy for," Blaise said with a salacious grin. "Especially since he's a royal arse and the ever charming drummer is there to lend them a hand after their youthful dreams have been crushed mercilessly by their idol."

Draco laughed at this. "You're full of it, aren't you? You probably enjoy exploiting them more than the actual sex, taking advantage of them in their vulnerable state."

Blaise didn't answer, although an emotion flashed through his caramel eyes. "In either case, I was wondering what your impressions on our new DADA teacher were."

Draco's lips twisted into a sardonic grin. Of course Zabini would not seek him out merely for the pleasure of his company, there was an ulterior motive to his visit. And as always, it was about information. In this case Zabini was merely doing his job. As the Prince of Slytherin, Draco would dictate the behavior of all other Slytherins in the DADA classes, approving or disapproving of the professor. Quite frankly though, he did not know what Professor Tara was all about. He remained silent for a few seconds try to think about what his actual impression of the Professor was.

"I have to admit that her demonstration was quite interesting. One has to wonder what else she is capable of doing," Blaise said nonchalantly.

"I have to agree with you on that Zabini," Draco responded in a blasé tone. "Perhaps we should wait and see what our Professor Tara is all about," he added blandly but with an arch of his eyebrows. He knew that Zabini would correctly interpret this gesture that the Slytherins were to appear courteous but not overly warm, but more importantly silent through this "examination" period of their teacher.

"That would be a wise course of action," Zabini added with a nod of his head. Slytherins were not commended for their patience. They weren't Hufflepuffs. But they could be patient to an extent, while they assessed the enemy, potential threats and a situation for the best course of action. 'Cautious' was perhaps the better term.

--------------------- ------------------------ -----------------------

"That has to have been one of the more amazing classes I've ever been to," Ron said enthusiastically.

"Of course, it also helps when the Professor is a very lovely and attractive female," Ginny said derisively, watching as her brother colored slightly.

"That's entirely beside the point," Ron retorted hotly. "You should have seen her smash that boulder to smithereens!"

Stories of the first DADA class and Professor Tara's small demonstration of her powers had spread throughout the school. All the other Houses and years were very keen on going to the DADA class. Especially the boys. Apparently, there was something supremely attractive about a woman that could crush rocks with her fists.

"I'm very interested in her muggle teachings. Of course, she has already given us three chapters to read for tomorrow," Hermione said. Professor Tara had not been kidding when she said that the class would be extremely intensive given its dual nature. Hermione wasn't sure that Professor Tara was giving the NEWTS sufficient weight. But then again, the professor seemed more interested in training them to survive any number of disastrous scenarios.

"I'm gonna sign up for her Survival Club. It seems like a good idea if other DA members do so," Harry said quietly. "I mean, she did bring up a few good points. It would be useful to know how to make a fire without magic or matches. Who knows what will happen? We have to be prepared for everything."

Ron, Ginny and Hermione nodded solemnly at Harry. For a few minutes, they didn't say anything. They just lived in the moment. Despite the war that was brewing and their own doubts and concerns about how prepared they were to fight, it was a beautiful day. A true summer day, when the sun shone lazily over the ripples of the water and before the autumn cooled the winds to chilly. The shouts and screams of Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, Colin Creevey and a bunch of other Gryffindors by the lake could be heard throughout as they teased the giant squid. Students were stretched out on the grass, talking and carefree. So for the moment, the foursome just watched and listened to the rest of the school on a summer afternoon and cherished it for what it was.

Ginny stretched out and put her head on Ron's lap. He smiled down at her, brotherly love infusing his face. He had come so close to losing her that first year. He was immensely thankful to Harry for saving her.

Hermione put her head on Ginny's tummy and put her face up to the sun. She smiled at both Ginny and Ron. Ginny's tummy was a comfortable pillow and the sun was out and it was warm without being too hot.

Harry just looked at them with his green eyes bright with intensity and smiled at the picture the three of them made.

Hermione knew that Harry cherished these small moments, the moments that slip into the cracks of memory for most people because they are mundane and just seem to fill the days between the exciting parts of one's life. But for Harry, these were the moments worth living. Hermione was pretty sure that Harry would trade all his fame and exciting moments just to have his parents or Sirius back.

----------- ----------------- ------------------------

"They do make a quaint picture," Zabini commented with a bland voice, but there was a hint of a sparkle in his eyes.

Draco followed with his gaze at what Zabini was looking at. Just the Golden Trio and Weaselette, sprawled on the grass like lions resting on a hot day in the African savannah. Almost made him want to take up lion hunting, he thought mirthlessly. Draco gave Zabini a gallic shrug. He really didn't give a rat's ass how pretty the Golden Trio looked, they were still a nuisance.

He ignored the pang of longing that stabbed at him. He squelched it mercilessly, his face impassive. He didn't need to frolic in the grass with chums to be happy. The last thing he wanted was Zabini to think he was even remotely envious of the Golden Trio. Especially of Weasel King and The-Boy- That-Is-Most-Annoying. Or that he harbored some sort of secret fancy for the mouthy, prissy Granger.

Despite how lovely she looked lying on the grass, her legs a golden tan, her mane of curls spread around her, smiling warmly, he certainly wasn't going to admit to even thinking she was anything other than a dirty mudblood.

"The question is, a quaint picture of what?" Draco said sardonically, plucking at his guitar. He wasn't sure what Zabini was getting at precisely. Oddly enough, the last thing he felt like doing was encouraging Blaise to pursue Hermione solely to piss Pothead or Weasel off. He certainly couldn't picture both of them together.

"I was hoping you would know," Blaise said in a not-so-innocent tone.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I do, but I don't feel like sharing," he said smugly.

Blaise let out a long-suffering tragic sigh. He hated when Draco turned even more closemouthed. But he wasn't going to let out that he was interested in Ginny Weasley quite yet. That would be showing his hand before the play was over, and that was one thing Blaise did not do. He couldn't explain if it was merely intellectual curiosity or real attraction. Ginny Weasley was interesting if only for the fact that Voldemort had possessed her during his second year at Hogwarts. He literally had a score of question he was dying to ask her but hadn't had the opportunity yet, mainly because he had to wait until Draco was Slytherin Prince before he could even make a request to interrogate Ginny Weasley about the Dark Lord. And if he didn't ask this year, he would probably never have the chance to do so. He tried not to think about how he had this strange weakness for red hair.

Draco looked amused at Blaise, and for the first time that day wondered what it is that Zabini was really trying to get at.