Malfoy was only half listening as the Gryffindors and Slytherins lined up out side of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom a few days later. This was their first day of this class and Draco was sad to say that Umbridge wasn't there to teach it. She had been the only respectable teacher in Draco's opinion and he wished she would come back.
"What's that fool doing up there?" Crabbe asked him.
"I don't know, being an idiot I reckon," he bordly said, wishing he were back in the common room. He had finally convinced the two blokes that his father was teaching and that the real reason he wanted to teach here was so that he could get Potter alone and kill him.
"Sweet revenge," he muttered under his breath as Dumbledore began to speak in front of the class. Draco didn't pay much attention but he heard something like, "He's not who you think," and rubbish like that.
When he was finished the class began to trail into the classroom murmuring like a thousand bees had entered the room.
"Hey Potter!" Draco yelled across the classroom, "What do you think of the teacher? I think he's alright!"
But Potter didn't look at him. In fact, he didn't even give any signs that he had heard Draco. He was only staring at the front of the classroom.
"Look at him," Draco snickered, looking at Crabbe and Goyle who were also staring at the front of the room.
He looked around the rest of the room and found that everybody else, except Weasley and Granger, were doing the same thing.
He himself looked where everybody else was looking and felt his breathing stop.
"What?" he squeaked out, "Where's my father?" he demanded.
"Mr. Malfoy," said a calm voice from the doorway, "If you would just come with me, please," it said as the ghost teacher turned around to face the class.
Draco followed Dumbledore to his office in a huff. Why wasn't his father teaching? Why was a ghost teaching? Didn't they have enough ghosts around the school as it was?
Before he knew it they were in Dumbledore's office.
"What?" Draco rudely asked, roughly sitting in a chair opposite of him.
"Would you like to know where your father is?" Dumbledore quietly asked, making Draco angry.
"Yes, I would! He said he had applied here…"
Dumbledore cut him off, "Ah…precisely. He had applied here, Draco. That doesn't mean he got the job."
"So then…where is he? He sent me posts saying he was getting his… room…ready. If he wasn't, then where is he?" Draco yelled.
Dumbledore picked up The Daily Prophet, glanced at the cover and then handed it to him.
"Read the cover article."
Draco saw a picture of his father, looking quite dreadful, being lead away from Hogwarts by dementors. The caption read, "Un-masked deatheater: Lucius Malfoy loyally goes to Azkaban for you-know-who."
"That's a bunch of Bull Frogs!" he yelled, "My father is no deatheater!"
"Mr. Malfoy, you may cover up for your father all you want, but I know you are aware of such things."
Draco looked down; he did actually know his father was a deatheater.
"Why don't you hire him?" he demanded.
"I felt he wasn't right for the position," Dumbledore said, "I felt he was…ah…too much of a threat."
"Threat to what?"
"The well-being of Harry Potter."
"But…BUT YOU HIRED PROFESSOR SNAPE AND HE'S A DEATHEATER!" Draco stormed, "SO WHY CAN'T MY FATHER BE A PROFESSOR?"
"I'm afraid your father is still a deatheater, Draco. You see, Professor Snape has turned from such habits…"
Draco interrupted him, "No he hasn't!"
Dumbledore stopped and looked concerned, "I think it's time you go back to class now, Mr. Malfoy," he finally said.
"Fine," Draco said, storming out of the office.
