"I can't believe I'm late!" Hermione Granger had no idea whether that statement had been kept safely in her thoughts or shouted for the entire school to hear. She had never been fond of tardiness, especially in herself, and somehow being stuck in that odd position between a teacher and a student was not improving her opinion of the phenomenon.
A few students, apparently also tardy, stared at her. She blushed and forced her bag onto her back to increase mad dashing velocity. Okay, so she had announced she was late aloud. That was okay. What was not okay was that she had just stabbed herself five times with the pin she had dropped. Thank-you, Tonks. Though she might have been less late had she forgone the stupid thing. And she couldn't get it on! All the magic in the world and she couldn't put on a pin while running. What would happen if she didn't have the pin? What would happen?
What would have happened if she hadn't stayed up till three o'clock in the morning writing lesson plans that the entire Department of Education insisted she would not need for another month? Then she might not have overslept and she wouldn't be doing this right now.
She crashed into a kid. Fortunately, he was the only one that spilled.
Stupid little road block. She hopped over his spilt books and quills and made the last sprint to Professor Vector's classroom.
She had made it! And only five minutes late! She grabbed the door handle, threw it open, and screamed into the ears of twenty fourth years— "I'm here!"
Forty eyes stared at her.
"Who are you?" one dared ask.
Hermione took a deep breath and made her hand remove itself from the doorknob. That was a good question. It was established that a good student teacher introduce herself to the students with whom she would be working. Just because she was late didn't mean she had to forgo the niceties. "I'm Miss Granger, the student teacher."
"Isn't 'student teacher' a little redundant?" another student asked, an obnoxious-looking redhead with sparkly pink ribbons in her hair. "I mean, isn't that what teacher do? Teach students?"
That one caught her off-guard. It was a terrible title. "No, I'm a student of the education system."
Sparkly Pink was not impressed, and her friend laughed into a textbook. "As am I. I am a student, and this school represents the education system."
Logic. Oh, how she suddenly hated logic. Hermione finally closed the door behind her. "I don't think you really understand..."
"Oh, we understand, all right," said a boy at least two heads taller than she was. "We understand that we're such trouble-makers they had to send in another teacher."
The ripple of mischief resonated into Hermione's brain. Especially after the boy high-fived three other students.
Where was Professor Vector?
Knees ready to knock cliches, Hermione turned to the front desk. Yes, Professor Vector was there. Laughing along with her students.
Hermione gulped and straightened her robes. New ones, a dark grey color she hoped made her appear more professional. Now she just felt like a giant dust bunny. "I'm reporting, Professor Vector."
Professor Vector raised a hand, and the class went silent.
Hermione instantly admired the mighty power of classroom management. May she one day reach that point. Somehow, she knew that if she dared try raise a hand to silence a class, backlash would occur.
"Now, students, this is Hermione Granger," Professor Vector said in a completely sing-song voice better suited to seven-year olds. "She graduated two years ago and is now training to become a professor here at Hogwarts."
"Oh..." The bratty girls finally seemed to understand.
"And there's been a change of plans for her. Miss Granger, you're not helping in my class just yet."
The world spun. She was even more late for someone else's class? "What?"
Professor Vector just smiled. "There's been a change. The Headmistress insists."
"Insists what?" Hermione clutched her bag closer, as if her precious books would somehow save her from certain uncertain doom. They could not change her placement. They could not.
"As you well know, Hermione, you're planning to prepare yourself to teach any old subject possible."
She nodded. That was true. And one day she rather hoped she would be Headmistress herself. "Yes, but I thought I was starting with you."
Professor Vector sighed sadly. "That's what I thought, but Professor McGonagall changed things this morning. She prefers you start with another teacher. Two, actually, you'll be splitting the day between them. Later on in the semester you'll join me for a time. But the experience will be good for you."
Hermione nodded again. Yes, that all made sense. "Okay. Good. Then which professor will I be starting with?"
Professor Vector gasped in lack of remembrance, then skipped back to the desk to sort through parchment. "Here it is!" She shoved a piece into Hermione's hands.
She almost choked. She would be spending three whole class periods with Professor Trelawney.
She really didn't remember leaving the classroom, the snicker of the students behind her, or the journey to the attic where Professor Trelawney thought it was so wonderful to hold class. Somehow the hurricane-sized cloud of perfumes and incense didn't bother her.
No way. She had never wanted to teach Divination. She wanted nothing to do with Divination. She forced open the door.
"See, my dears? I knew Miss Granger would be late! I saw it days ago."
Did Trelawney even know three days ago she would be working with a student teacher? Hermione forced a smile. "I'm very sorry I'm late. I didn't know about the placement change."
Trelawney smiled at something past Hermione and waved the apology away. "Oh, dear, you're fine. You're fine. At least you are here, to begin your training in the techniques necessary to encourage young minds to open themselves up to the vibrations of the unseen."
Second years laughed, and this time Hermione's smile was real. They really were cute little things. "Professor Trelawney, what would you like me to do?"
"Sit in the back, I don't care. This is my class and I'm afraid that there is really nothing you can do here."
But wasn't she supposed to eventually teach a lesson? "But--"
"You are distracting me, Miss Granger. Take a seat."
For crying out loud... she'd bother the woman later. She fell back into a poofy chair at the back of the room, letting her bag with her carefully prepared arithmancy lesson plans slide to the floor next to her. Now she had to sit her for weeks on end and listen to the old bat prattle on about stuff she made up while drinking.
Two little girls left their seats and plopped down on either side of her. Pre-teens. Well, they were cute. They looked up at her with big bright eyes.
"My name is Coral Monk," said one.
"And I'm Lucy Harper," said the other. "We're best friends and we're both in Gryffindor."
Coral nodded excitedly. "We've heard about you from some of the older girls."
"Oh?" So she was famous two years after graduation. "What did they say?"
"They said you were a geek and that you made out with Victor Krum," said Coral.
Lucy giggled. "They said you never hung out with the other girls, that you were anti-social or something."
"Did you really kiss a zucchini in the common room?" Coral looked desperate for an answer.
Hermione sighed. "Listen to Professor Trelawney. Now."