Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do, unfortunately, own the massive survey project I have to do for Intro into Social Research.
Thanks to:
Meirta:
What will the Golden Trio think, indeed. I am def. planning on having
them meet in a future chapter. Thanks for the review.
Wildlyobsessed:
Harry/Ginny, I don't know. Maybe slightly, but we really won't
see a lot of them, so if you hate the ship, don't worry, if you
love it, well, re-read the last chapter again, cuz that's prolly
all your going to get. Thanks for the review.
Gremlin:
Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you liked the Buckbeak part. I felt
I had to put it in to explain Draco's behavior in the third book.
Rachel:
Thank you very much. And if you re-read parts, it must mean you like
it right? Lol, thanks again.
NMS:
Thank you for the consecutive reviews, and yes, I am making thestral
shows a lot like horse shows and rodeos, though, I've never been to
one, I just thought it sounded rather aristocratic, like English
polo. Anyways, thank you very much and I'm glad you like the other
side of Draco, it's fun to write.
Mask:
Write what you know, right? Lol.
As always, thanks to my beta, to whom I sent two chapters in a row (this was the second of the bunch) and she is still my beta even after that. Amazing. Thanks Ada.
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Chapter 15
Rule number thirteen: There is no hole bigger in a disguise, then the hole of perfection.
As usual, the break ended far too soon and the Monday after New Year's, the students came back. The school days fell easily back into their pattern and by the first day of classes, it had felt as if there had never been a break at all. That Monday, Claire Jameson taught her first class in DADA, observed by Professor Stevick. Draco felt like cringing every time she spoke because that slight inflection was still there, the one his mother had when trying to talk normally, the trace of seduction. No one else noticed it.
Even if there hadn't been that slight seductive impression in her voice, Draco would still be wary of her. She was too sweet, too kind, and too perfect in her role of gentle student teacher.
Rule number thirteen: There is no hole bigger in a disguise, then the hole of perfection.
Although, Draco might have to edit that because it seemed like everyone was falling for her disguise.
Draco mentally made a note to watch out for her. He remembered what had been on the board before Christmas break, that 'one' was hidden in the school, and that was referring to a Horcrux. Draco had read up on Tom Riddle after finishing his potions book, and his guess would be that the Horcrux was hidden in the trophy Tom had received for turning in Hagrid's monster when he had actually been the one to open the Chamber of Secrets, but the trophies were protected much more than the restricted shelf at the library, besides, if there was a Death Eater at the school, wouldn't they have already made a move for the cup if it was a Horcrux? Surely it wouldn't be too difficult for a Death Eater to get into it, since they didn't have a cover to keep like Draco did.
Either way, Draco took it upon himself to figure out what was going on, and just because he was suspicious of Claire didn't mean he was closing out his options. Stevick seemed a little off as well, like he was trying to fade into the woodwork, but there were moments in class, when he showed them how to do a particularly hard curse, that he seemed to puff up and flourish under the awe of the students, but then he would remember himself and deflect the compliments. He never spoke out of turn with the other Professors and was always polite. Draco refused to believe that there was a specimen of humanity that boring, and figured that he, too, must be hiding something.
There was one good thing about classes starting again. Classes meant that helping Bill out with the code was once again a part of Thursday afternoons, and Draco knew that he had missed it, and when he stayed after class that Thursday and when Bill pulled out his notes, Draco felt himself relax, something he hadn't done for the past two weeks, not even around Hagrid.
Bill shot him a smile as he plopped down a bunch of papers on the table, and Draco found himself returning it before he caught himself.
"How was your break?" asked Bill as Draco immediately began sifting through the pile to find the parchment he had been reading last.
"Tolerable," said Draco. "Yours?"
He didn't know why he asked, usually Bill was the one who asked the questions, but he found the dialogue comforting.
"Fleur came over two days after Christmas," said Bill, a soft light coming into his eyes.
"When are you going to pop the question?" asked Draco.
"How did you-" Bill started, but Draco smirked.
"Have you looked in the mirror when you talk about her?" he asked.
"Well, no," said Bill.
Draco found the parchment he was looking for and pulled it out, already scanning the page to find where he had left off. "It's a complete give-away. Anyone with a half a brain could see that you're nuts about her."
"That doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to ask her to marry me," said Bill.
"But you're going to," said Draco
"But how did you know?" asked Bill.
Draco shrugged. "I'm a genius," he said. "So, when's the lucky day?"
"Valentine's Day," said Bill. "She's coming up then."
"Utterly sappy and romantic," said Draco. "Where's the Richslin Scroll?"
Bill handed it to him. "Do you think so?" he asked.
"Think what?" asked Draco, even though he knew what Bill was talking about. Bill gave him an 'I'm-not-fooled' look. "She'll love it," said Draco. "She is French after all."
"Good," said Bill, seemingly relieved that the resident genius thought it was a good idea. He took to sifting through the papers as well and they lapsed into silence.
"I need a favor," said Draco abruptly, his fingers that were twitching in the pattern going double time.
"What sort?" asked Bill.
"I need a detention," said Draco. "Preferably a couple in a row. Saturdays. After lunch."
Bill set his notebook down. "Do I want to know why you need detention?" he asked.
"I'm helping Hagrid train a thestral for a show this summer," said Draco.
"And you need an excuse," said Bill, catching on to his train of thought. "Consider it done. You were taking notes out of my test book and you now have ten Saturdays of detention."
"Sounds Slytherin enough," said Draco, relaxing again. "By the way, are you keeping a close eye on the trophy room?"
"The Horcrux," said Bill, once again following his thinking. "The original trophy is in Dumbledore's office, he had the same idea. Someone did try to break into the room in the beginning of the year, but they must have realized it wasn't the real one."
Draco nodded and they lapsed into silence once again.
"How are classes?" Bill asked after awhile.
"Easy," said Draco. "Boring. I hate Debate Class."
Once again, he found himself giving information without any prying, just another reminder that he was getting far too lax in his guard, but he didn't really mind.
"That bad?" asked Bill.
"You try being stuck in a room with a bunch of Junior Death Eaters and tell me that you don't feel homicidal at the end of it."
"If you did go on a killing spree, we could give you honorary Order membership," said Bill, and Draco bit back a laugh.
"I think I should get a trophy as well," said Draco. "For services rendered to the school."
"Heck, they'd give you a Merlin, first class," said Bill, and this time Draco turned his head to hide his smile. "If it's that bad, you could always come to the APR meeting," said Bill, on a more serious note.
"Yes, I can see that happening," said Draco. "I'd get accused of spying."
"Not like you've been accused of worse," said Bill.
"True," Draco acknowledged.
Bill was about to respond when the door opened behind them and Draco turned to see Claire Jameson enter.
"Oh," she said, pulling up at the sight of them. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was here. I was supposed to grade a few papers in here." She gestured to the desk. Draco knew what she was trying to convey. This classroom doubled as the NEWT DADA class for seventh years when Bill was not using it, and Stevick had apparently sent her down to grade the papers in the desk.
"Go right ahead," said Bill, giving her a reassuring smile, and Draco tried not to roll his eyes. Did everyone fall for her innocent act?
"Is it alright if I grade them in here?" she asked.
No! Draco thought, trying not to glare at her, but Bill gave that smile again.
"Of course," he said. "The teacher's lounge is quite a hike away."
"Thank you so much," she said and Draco picked up the slightly carried 'sooo'.
Draco glared as she walked to the front of the room to the desk, but then composed his face and pulled out a sheet that was written in the Gaelic dialect and began translating it on a clean piece of parchment so it looked like he was actually learning.
"What's all this for?" asked Claire, coming over with the papers in her hand to lean over their shoulders.
"Private project," said Bill. "I'm working on translating some runes I found on a dig once."
"And he's helping you?" asked Claire, prying ever-so-slightly.
"Wha-?" started Bill. "Oh, no. He's translating some Gaelic. His summer program didn't cover it."
Draco could feel her eyes turn to his paper as if making sure that was what he was really doing.
"Looks hard," she commented.
"He's picking it up fast enough," said Bill, looking over his shoulder as well and noticing the mistakes Draco was adding in. "Watch it right there," said Bill, pointing to one of the errors. "Remember what it said about agreeing? It agrees with the noun so it has to be plural."
Draco sighed, as if genuinely frustrated, and Claire moved to go sit at the back of the room. Draco could feel her eyes on him and the back of his neck prickled. Bill spoke softly, as if instructing him on something else and not wanting to disturb Claire, when he was really not talking about Runes at all.
"You don't like her." He didn't make it a question.
"She talks like my mother," Draco whispered back. Bill looked confused, so Draco elaborated. "Like a whore," he said bluntly.
"Claire?" asked Bill in surprise. "She's not forward at all."
"Exactly," said Draco, keeping his voice down. "Would you say Fleur is forward?"
"What?" asked Bill, a little too loudly, but then he quieted back down. "No. Not at all," he said.
"But she still dresses nicely, wears make-up, sometimes a low robe or two?"
"Well, yeah," said Bill.
"Would you say that Claire is prettier than Fleur?" asked Draco.
"About the same," said Bill. "Where is this going?"
"Since when has a woman been as pretty as Fleur and never flaunted it?" asked Draco.
"So she's a whore because she's modest?" asked Bill.
"She's a whore because she's that modest," said Draco. "She's hiding it."
"How can you tell?" asked Bill, dubiously.
"Her inflections," said Draco. "Next time you talk to her, imagine her in bed with you."
Bill shot him a disgusted look.
"I'm serious," said Draco, "or at least in another setting. One with candlelight with her in a low, short red dress with loads of make-up on."
"Your unfounded accusations are not going to make me imagine a colleague in a compromising situation when I have a girlfriend already," said Bill.
"Stop being such a prude," said Draco. "Just because you have a girlfriend doesn't mean you have to be celibate."
"I'm starting to believe that we have very different views when it comes to moral values," said Bill, a look of reproof in his eyes that made Draco slightly angry.
"We are not here to talk about my morals," he whispered with an edge in his voice. "So what if I think that marriage is just an excuse to shag four times a day? The fact is that the sweet little student teacher has everyone believing she's a saint when she's a seductress."
"Draco, you are one messed up kid," said Bill shaking his head slowly. Draco felt his anger flare.
"Well catching your mother banging 'Cousin Richard' in reverse cowgirl on the kitchen table tends to do that to a seven year old!" hissed Draco. "I can't help it if you're too blind to see what she really is, or maybe you refuse to see it because you fancy her prettier than Fleur and wouldn't mind meeting her after class for some extra-curricular activities!"
He knew he had gone too far with that and a flash of regret made him flush ever-so-slightly. Bill stood, scraping his chair back noisily, and walking to the board.
"So," said Bill, louder than necessary. "How about I go over the rules for the Egyptian dialect? Copy these down Draco."
Oh, he could be cruel when he wanted to. There were thirty-seven long rules on that dialect (because there were a lot of exceptions to the rules), but Draco knew them by heart. He glared at Bill.
"Draco, you won't be leaving until you write them," said Bill, merely finding a page in the textbook and waving his wand so that the rules on the page copied themselves onto the board in an instant flat. "So you better get started."
There was a new note in Bill's voice, one of coolness and a slight trace of anger. Draco began copying, not looking up at Bill, and was surprised that he actually felt a fair bit of guilt at his words, but it wasn't his fault Bill wouldn't listen.
He scratched out the words onto his parchment, writing them in French, German, Italian, and Latin while his right hand drummed the table, not bothering to be quiet about it. It took half an hour.
Once he was finished, Draco sat back, flexing his left hand to get rid of the cramp.
"Done?" asked Bill. "If you haven't copied these down correctly you'll have to re-do them." He came over, reclaiming his chair and picking up the parchment.
Draco smirked as Bill looked at the paper in incomprehension, wondering if he was going to admit to not being able to read it.
"I'm sorry, but this is illegible," said Bill. "Please copy it again."
Draco glared. Behind them, Claire walked to the front of the room and put the graded tests back on the desk, then walked back to her spot and began picking up her things.
"So you don't believe me," said Draco. "Well, explain this then."
Draco got up and walked to Claire just as she picked up her bag.
"Excuse me, Miss Jameson?" he asked.
"Yes?" Claire asked, smiling politely.
"I just want to say that you did a really good job in class on Monday," said Draco, loud enough for Bill to hear, but not obviously so.
"Why, thank you," said Claire.
"I think that you're going to make an excellent student teacher one day," said Draco, making sure that his voice practically dripped with the innuendo and then he raked his gaze over her body.
Claire noticed his gaze, and ducked her head slightly, but she didnot blush, in fact, she smiled again, almost knowingly and walked off. Draco watched her leave and shut the door behind her, then walked back to where Bill was sitting.
He slumped in his seat and raised an eyebrow at Bill, knowing that the spy would have noticed that the student teacher had not turned red at the blatant once-over.
"You may have a point," Bill conceded.
"I better have," said Draco, slouching slightly. "I just leered at my Professor for you."
There was silence for a moment and then-
"The reverse cowgirl?"
Draco groaned. "Let's not talk about it."
"He wasn't really your cousin, was he?"
"No!" said Draco, burying his head in his arms on the table. "It's code for screwing another man. She goes abroad and 'visits relatives'."
"So this Christmas, she was-"
"Yes," said Draco. "Now, drop it."
"Were you really seven?"
"Yes, now shove it, Weasley." His voice had gone cold.
"On the kitchen table?"
"Merde!" exclaimed Draco, sitting bolt upright and ready to strangle his professor, but then he realized that Bill was teasing him and shaking with silent laughter.
"It's not funny," he said. "You try walking in on that!"
Bill merely shook his head, trying to stifle his laughter, and Draco glared, turning back to his report.
"You didn't have to eat off of that, did you?" asked Bill. "Because that would have been so wrong."
"I burnt it down," said Draco stiffly.
"I'm sorry," said Bill, becoming serious once more. "I shouldn't laugh."
"Damn right," muttered Draco under his breath. "I'm leaving now," he said louder, as they had actually gone past the hour they usually took. "I've got work to do and can't spend all of my time copying dialect codes I already know." He said the last rather meaningfully, but Bill didn't look repentant at all.
"You sure?" asked Bill. "We can stay a bit after if you want."
"I've got a test to just barely pass," said Draco, packing up his things. "It's amazing how much studying has to go into failing a test."
"Have fun then," said Bill.
"Oh yes," said Draco sarcastically. He was practically out the door when Bill called out again.
"Thanks for the books!"
Draco halted for a moment. "You're welcome," he said, and then continued on his way.
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Draco was just out the door when Bill looked over his shoulder and called out "Thanks for the books!"
He watched as Draco stopped short and froze for a split second. "You're welcome," said Draco finally, and then kept walking. Bill grinned; it was more than he expected, but then again, this entire lesson had been one surprise after another.
First, there was the fact that when Bill had given Draco a smile of greeting, Draco had smiled back. Okay, so it was more of an upturn of the lips, but Bill wasn't choosey. Secondly, Draco had actually asked him how his holidays had been, and Bill was sure that Draco had been aggravating him on purpose when Draco had asked "What?" to Bill's question about Fleur.
Aggravating on purpose was another word for teasing, which meant that Draco was getting far more relaxed with him. Of course, there was that thing with Claire. Draco had gone too far with his comment about Fleur, but then again, he did have a valid argument. Bill grimaced as he began picking up the papers. There was something wrong with a sixteen year old looking over a teacher, but his point had been made, Claire hadn't blushed. That just meant that Bill had to watch out for someone else now, and he didn't like that.
Bill finished putting the things away and headed up for the teacher's lounge, thinking back to what Draco had said about marriage and then his mother. He obviously thought his mother was loose and from what Draco said about walking in on her and some 'cousin', he had a right to think so.
Bill didn't know what he would have done in that position. He had received 'The Talk' from his father right before he had left for Hogwarts in a comfortable atmosphere where it was okay to make 'ewwww' faces. He shook his head again, opened the teacher's lounge extremely grateful that it was empty, and slouched onto the couch by the fire.
Then there was the fact that Draco knew his mother was off having…affairs with other men during the holidays. Bill knew from previous discussions that Draco's mother wasn't exactly role-model material with her 'activities' and tendencies for illegal potions and alcohol, but the fact that there were code words for it made him think that the indiscretions happened rather often. No wonder Draco thought that marriage was just an excuse.
Bill probably shouldn't have teased Draco about it, but in those few moments when Bill had been pestering him, it was almost as if Draco was another little brother of his, actually showing emotion, albeit that the emotion was revulsion, but still, Draco had even slipped so far as to let out a French expletive.
Bill had never heard Draco speak French, except for that one time before Bill had figured out Draco's secret, and it was a good thing to know that Draco reverted back to his native language when he was upset so he could watch out for it.
The lounge doors opened and Claire came in, and Bill was instantly wary.
"Tired?" asked Claire kindly.
"You've no idea," said Bill, keeping the conversation natural.
"Is tutoring that bad?" asked Claire.
Bill remembered what Draco had told him, imagining her in another setting. Well, there was no way he was imagining her in bed with him, though he doubted Draco would have such qualms, and instead pretended that they were at a classy bar, where women wore those little black dresses they were always on the hunt for.
"Tolerable," he said, unconsciously using Draco's description of his holiday. "It's just a pain to come back to work after having a break." He closed his eyes, as if exhausted, but in reality, it was to better place them both in his imaginary bar.
Claire laughed, and to Bill's surprise, her laugh did not seem out of place at a bar, in fact, she sounded downright enticing. He could picture her now, in a small dress with high heels and make-up.
"I know what you mean," she said. "What I wouldn't give for a few more hours of freedom." In the bar, she stepped forward, a small, seductive smile playing on her lips.
Bill's eyes snapped open and he saw Claire standing above him with the exact smile he had imagined her wearing hovering on her lips, and immediately he saw what Draco had been telling him.
The smile was not provocative in a school setting, but it looked very slightly out-of-place. When Bill had pictured the bar, the smile looked as if it belonged there.
"Something wrong?" Claire asked.
"Just forgot that I had a quiz to make up for tomorrow," said Bill, lying easily. He didn't do it often, but he was a good liar.
"Don't you just hate that?" Claire asked, and Bill caught the slightly elongated vowels that fit a bar, or a bedroom, better than the school.
"Absolutely," he said. He got up, grabbed a few papers off of his desk, and then went to his room. Once in the privacy of his bedchamber, he shook his head. Leave it to the kid to pick that up, he thought ruefully, and then flopped onto his bed for a nap before dinner.
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