Draco huffed, angrily throwing his things on to his bed. He couldn't believe it! That senile old coot! How could Dumbledore do this? Force him to room with one of the Gryffin-dorks. And not just anyone. The king of the dorks, Harry Potter himself.
As if summoned by the thought, Harry walked in at that moment, hefting his tiny little tattered trunk with difficulty. Clearly, Potter wasn't nearly as athletic as himself. Nor was he as smart, nor as talented: that was clear from his studies. He wasn't even as good looking, what with his hair that covered his eyes and ugly glasses that covered his face.
And yet, this stupid git managed to earn favor with nearly all the teachers and students. Even the Headmaster was eating out of the palm of his hand. Draco hated it. Despite all of his perfect scores in Transfiguration, he would never be liked or appreciated by Professor McGonagall. No matter that he was an Occlumens, and a seer. Nobody cared. No matter that he had better grades than Hermione Granger. Nobody cared. They were all too busy fawning over Potter to notice.
That is, until this new one. He said that Malfoy was destined to be one of the greatest wizards alive. Finally someone who appreciated his hard work and brilliance. Someone who said to Potter, "learn something from Malfoy". It was the first adult that noticed. His parents certainly had never said that. They were too busy moaning and groaning over what a failure of a Malfoy he was, simply because he didn't wish to become a Death Eater.
"I don't like this either, but I guess maybe we should try to get along, at least, if we're going to spend the next couple weeks together. Truce?" Potter was saying awkwardly, words tumbling over one another. It was awkwardly phrased, but so was everything he said.
"Rot in hell." Draco answered, opening a Transfiguration textbook, and immersing himself in the study of it.
I looked at my first class, satisfied with their nervous looks. They weren't even first years. They were sixth years, but they looked at me apprehensively, like they thought I would turn into a giant beast at any moment.
"Tell me about your last DADA teacher." I said, opening the class.
"Which one?" this was from my man Draco. I actually really liked him. There was something about him that was really charismatic.
"Good, Draco. You're cool. Five points to Slytherin." I said, and heard the Gryffindors moan. "So, Draco, tell me about them all."
"Well, first was Quirrell, who turned out to have Voldemort on the back of his head. Then Lockhart, who was arrogant and beyond incompetent. Lupin was a werewolf, Mad-eye Moody was a Death Eater in disguise, and the Ministry's person, Umbridge, ended up being crazy and sadistic."
"Okay." I said, processing the information. Five teachers, all with some sort of problem. I smiled. So I didn't have a good teacher I was following up. "Well, I hope you'll find I do not have any of those issues. Now, I'd like you to turn to page three. Who would like to read?"
"I would." This was from Draco again. Man, I loved this kid. I awarded ten points to Slytherin, and he read the page, telling all about the purposes of the class.
"No, does anybody want to sum up what he just read?" I called on a Gryffindor in the front. "What was your name?"
"Hermione Granger, Sir. The purposes of the class are to educate us to the Dark Arts, as we must avoid them, and also how to defend ourselves against such Dark Arts if the need should arise."
"Very good, miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor. So, now, this will be one of the only times we consult this book. This year, I will assume you can mostly tell what is good and evil. This year will be spent teaching you the second point, which is to help you to defend yourself against the Dark Arts. Any objections?" There were none.
"Grading this class will have to do with some practical application of what you learn. All right, on to the meat of the lesson!" I stated excitedly. "Now, I have a list of ten spells that will always help you against a Dark Wizard or Creature. I want you to know this list by heart by the end of the month.
"Now, let's take a look at the list." My lesson continued normally by then. At the conclusion of the lesson, I said, "Draco, Harry, please see me after class."
They made their way to my desk. I noticed they walked far away from each other, obviously wanting to be as far away from each other as possible. I smirked, watching their antics with amusement.
"All right. Here is your assignment: I want you to find out about Demons. By the end of the year, I will ask you all the questions I can think of about them, and I would like you to answer them with fact, not just myth."
"That's it?" Harry asked. "It's all in the book."
I looked at them. "What page?"
"1743."Draco answered. "It is quite detailed."
I flipped to that page in the book, and began to laugh. Are they serious here? It was all superstition! "All right, myth, myth, myth, myth, myth. It's all incorrect superstition. I mean what is this? Demons eat anything from cows to people without discretion. On top of being incorrect, this is beyond vague! Each species of demon has another preference, completely different from the last. And it mentioned nothing of the kinds that eat souls and such. For you test, I will ask you specifically what kinds of foods are a Sikh's favorite, and which foods they avoid."
"But that's insane! We could spend years just on the topic of food!"
"I'm glad you understand the immensity of this project. Here's the good news. I will be available at all times to help you check the validity of your sources. Also, you will not have to do any papers for any classes this year, so that should take a chunk out of your workload. If you pass this assignment, all those papers will be entered in as perfects. If you fail, they will be entered in as zeroes. And that is where your grade for this assignment comes in. Lastly, I will give you this piece of information: The most accurate accounts on demons will be found from more than five hundred years ago."
"What?! How are we ever supposed to find any information?!" Harry exclaimed. Yeah. It was hard. It was a year-long project, though.
"I understand." Draco finally said, reluctantly. "How many times are we allowed to ask for your help?"
"Well, I want you to do this mostly independently. I won't give you a limit, but I want you to determine a lot of what is true and not for yourselves."
"Very well." Draco said. "Come on, Potter. Quit wasting time gaping. We have work to do." With that, he left the room. Aw man, I loved that kid. He was, like, the best student ever.
Oh, yeah. I quickly walked out of the room, opening the door. "Draco, could you stay behind a bit? I'd like to talk to you."
He turned, looking at me curiously, but followed. I led him to my office, and motioned for him to have a seat. "So, Draco, what's up?"
"I'm sorry?"
"What's on your mind right now? Tell me about yourself." I elaborated.
"That's it? That's all you called me here for?" He asked, unbelieving.
"Yeah, like why were you so surprised when I said you could become a great wizard?" I asked, pouring him some tea. It was silent for a good couple minutes before he responded. That was the secret to listening: Don't be afraid of the silences.
Finally, he opened his mouth. "Most teachers don't like me."
"Why not? You're like the perfect student." I asked, and he took a long sip of the tea.
"I don't know! I try every day! I get good marks on all my tests, participate in class—everything! And yet all my teachers hate me! Even Snape, who is supposed to be my godfather, just seems to tolerate me. I don't understand it at all! Have you any idea how much I work, just to gain their approval?! Hours of my day! I hardly have any free time at all. And that stupid Potter! All the teachers just fawn all over him. Ooh, it's the Chosen One. You know what? Big whoop! Who cares? He barely gets average marks in all his classes!"
"What do your parents think of your excellence in school?"
"That's just it—they don't care, at all! Nothing was good enough for my father, from the start, and my mother never cared about school. And now, I'm even more of a failure, because I don't want to become one of their little Death Eater parade. Jeez! Why can't I just make my own decisions?! There's always someone telling me what to do, and if I do it, then there's somebody else that hates me for it! What am I supposed to do?"
Okay, you might be wondering about the rare outburst. Why did he tell me this? I hardly knew him. I might have slipped some truth serum into the tea. Just a little. Why did I do it? Well, I'm not the most patient person in the world. This just speeds up how soon I get to learn all about him.
"And that Potter! I tried to be nice to him, in first year! But, no, apparently, I wasn't good enough for him, either. Figures. Perfect Potter too good for anyone who wasn't a Gryffindork. He was the one that turned the teachers against me, you know. Cause we'd fight. Naturally. And whose side did they take EVERY time. That's right, Potter's. So I look like an arrogant bully, and he looks like the tortured hero. And he keeps yelling at me not to make fun of mudbloods and blood traitors. Maybe I might, if they didn't keep perpetuating the stereotype! I mean, just look at the Weasel! He literally has no good points! He's not even loyal to Potter! I've heard him talk about the kid behind his back, before. And you know what; I wouldn't care, except that I keep getting compared to them! Why? I'm obviously superior!"
"Draco, you put a lot of stake into what other people say. You want nothing more than to be accepted. But what do you want in life?"
"To be loved! To be admired! Revered! Maybe have a couple slaves. That would be nice, too."
"Okay. I'll try to get you some." I laughed, and sent him back to his room. That truth serum had worked wonders. And now it was all out in the open, so he wouldn't mind confiding in me. Which was, of course, my first step in my "Make sure Draco doesn't become Evil" plan. With that, I began planning my classes for the next couple of weeks. Ugh1 So dry! Why was my life so boring? Five hundred years ago, I could've never imagined myself doing boring stuff like this! I decided to call up Ellen. She was always nice to talk to. As I walked to my phone, though, I noticed a ripple in the air. I moved towards it to investigate, when suddenly, a figure jumped out from the ripple.
"Hanyou!" The creature hissed. "I have not seen such an abomination in five hundred years!" I stared at it. A…demon? And not just any one.
"Kagura…? Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
"I was remade by the Great Lord, Ahkimastabifhe—Inuyasha?! How are you still alive?"
"With all the demos gone, there were no immediate attempts on my life?"
"No—Hanyou don't live this long. Especially without aging. Even powerful demons would age more than you have. Sesshomaru aged ten years, and he is the most powerful one I know of!"
"Yeah, things have been kinda trippy with me. No matter. How did you get in my office?"
"You have an office, too? Is this really the same hanyou I knew?"
"It has been five hundred years. Now, tell me: How did you get here?"
"You said it yourself—it's been five hundred years. The spell separating the two worlds must be renewed every five hundred years. But many of us aren't so sure we want it renewed. During the political debates, the barrier is weakening. This is the first hole, but I'm sure there will be more."
"And you came here to….?"
"Feast, of course." She smiled devilishly. "And I'm sure you will find it is not so easy to stop me. Some of us didn't waste the past five hundred years lazing about with humans." She grabbed something that looked like a thick staff from her back. She opened it with a flick of her wrist, revealing it to be a giant fan.
"Oh, your fan got bigger. Scary." I mocked. Without any before battle banter, she unleashed her fury, swinging the fan with her whole body. Before I could speak, I, and most of my wall, was catapulted into the outside air. She was right. She had gotten powerful. I spoke a word, and the wind circled about me, preventing me from falling. Surveying the damage, I realized she had wrecked not only my wall, but the entire half of my office. I smirked. This could be fun. I noticed she had turned around, undoubtedly to start feasting on my precious students, which were just barely trickling into my room for their DADA lesson. Well, they were going to get one.
"Yoohoo! Kagura! You didn't think that tiny little love tap could defeat me, did you?" I mocked, landing in my office.
"You!" she spun around in just enough time for my foot to connect with her face. She plowed through the wall, into my classroom, startling the fourth years. She sat up, spitting out a pool of blood. "I see the past five hundred years haven't been entirely useless, Princeling." Ugh. Looks like she found out that Sesshomaru hadn't disowned me. Sometimes it was really irritating being his brother.
"That wasn't half of it, you experiment." I snarled. "Now leave, before I kill you."
"Ooh, Experiment. What an amazing insult. Really brings the fear into my bones." She grabbed one of the fourth years, pulling him in front of her. The boy, to his merit, didn't cry, though some of the girls in the class did. "Now, do not take one step closer, or this one will die."
"Very well." I said coldly. "But know that you force my hand."
"Haha! Classic Inuyasha, still trying to sound cool, even when he knows he's beat." Right after she finished those words, though, she began to scream. I turned around, not being able to resist taking a look. Her entire skin was bubbling and boiling.
"How does it feel to have every ounce of water in your body set to a boil?" I asked, smirking. "Now, I know you are not dying, and that works in my favor. Now I want you to go back to that pit you came from, and tell them all why exactly they should not consider trying to invade my world. Now, Go!" I yelled, picking her up, and throwing her with all my might back into the portal she crawled from.
I'd like to think my class cheered, but I think most of them just peed their pants.