Author's Note: Wow, I didn't expect that many reviews and follows for this story! Thanks for all the feedback - I really appreciate it!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series.
Students slowly filed into the room one by one, groaning in pretend agony. Hermione stood behind the huge desk and watched them curiously, all while thinking, what's so bad about school?
There were about ten boys and nine girls—a relatively small class, but Hermione knew from experience that even small classes were difficult to handle. She had been in one before, and it wasn't a very comfortable memory.
After they all took their places (after an amount of some jostling and pushing around), she cleared and throat and began.
"I'm Professor Granger, the new Transfiguration teacher," she said as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "As you know, Headmistress McGonagall has decided to step from teaching and let me replace her for a while. First thing's first, let's try a simple spell to test your abilities—"
A girl in the front of the classroom raised her hand.
"Yes?"
"Do we have to introduce ourselves?"
Hermione internally smacked herself in the face. Of course!
"Yes, of course, sorry. There's a Muggle tradition where we go around the room and each say something interesting about ourselves."
That was the best beginning she could come up with in two seconds.
She had even read a book on teaching, but it didn't facilitate her time in the classroom like it said it would. Instead, it just made it awkward and horrible.
So Hermione stood in front of the room, listening to the facts the students provided about themselves. So far, she'd heard some very disturbing ones:
"My uncle was a Death Eater and died in Azkaban after four years."
"I once accidentally choked on a piece of bread and it came out of my ear."
Hermione cringed, and the students continued to talk.
"I can wiggle my ears."
To prove his point, the student sitting in the second room stood up to give the class a show. Most of the others burst out laughing at his antics.
"Harry Potter is my idol."
"I have newspaper clippings of Harry Potter all over the walls in my room."
"I used to have a pet dragon until it flew away."
Hermione didn't believe the last one, and finally, a boy at the back spoke up.
"Before I tell you my interesting fact, Professor, I have a question for you."
"Yes?"
"How do you know all of these 'Muggle traditions? Are you a Muggle?"
And then Hermione made the mistake of answering truthfully, "Of course."
The boy sneered at her, and started laughing. "A Hogwarts professor, Muggle! Ha! My father'll hear about this, and he'll get you fired!" Some others in the class began to chant along with him.
"Mudblood! Mudblood! Mudblood!"
Hermione stared at her class, feet rooted to the ground. Her blood began to boil, and her hands involuntarily clenched into fists.
Something inside her snapped. Too long. She'd been treated like this for practically her whole life at Hogwarts, and she was sick of it. There was nothing wrong with being Muggleborn, and she was proud of her heritage.
"What did you say?" she asked softly.
The class quieted down.
"Mudblood!" The boy who had started the chant jeered.
He strongly reminded Hermione of Draco Malfoy, whom she had just seen in the Leaky Cauldron a few days ago. Everything about them was similar—the physical appearance, for example. They both had the same platinum blonde hair that was parted in the middle, cold grey eyes, and ever-permanent mouth that was always carved into a frown. The attitude - Merlin, the way the boy had said "My father'll hear about this!" had mirrored the exact same way Malfoy said it.
And as far as she could tell, both completely pureblooded.
Hermione looked down at the roll call, but she could only see red. Finally, she gave up and stalked to the boy's seat.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Why should I tell you?"
"You either tell me, or you have five seconds to get out of my classroom."
The class suddenly quieted down and turned around to face the drama.
"Damien Vlasta," he spat back at her.
"Now get out."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!" She took care to enunciate each syllable perfectly, even though she was screaming.
She was boiling inside, churning in a pit full of rage. That filthy, disgusting piece of scum—that complete arse—how dare he.
"And don't come back until the lesson's over. Since I have the power to do so, I'm going to take away House Points from whatever house you're in once I find out."
Hermione could see a flash of anger in his eyes, but she ignored it and walked over to her desk to start the lesson.
Damien leaped up, gathered his books and wand, and then stormed out of the room. Before he could touch the doorknob, Hermione called after him, "Leave your wand here."
Damien stalked back into the room, carelessly threw his wand onto the seat, and left, slamming the door behind him.
Hermione sank back into the seat, sighing in relief.
It was truly, truly horrible.
The rest of the day went by in a flash. Hermione introduced some new, different spells to her students. She could tell that they had been practicing during the summer, because all of them could either Transfigure objects or make major changes in the objects with their wands. It was a pretty good improvement, and she was impressed with her students' skills.
"Professor?" a small, timid voice jolted her out of her daydreaming. Hermione looked up and saw a tiny Ravenclaw boy raise his hand.
"Yes?"
"AVIFORS!"
She saw the blue light racing towards her, and then shouted the counter spell. The original spell was knocked away midair in a flash of light, and the classroom interrupted into cheers.
Phew. It was a barely-evaded spell that would have turned her into a chicken.
"Okay—uh, children, from now on, you can't ever do that to another human being in my classroom. Understand?" Hermione put on a stern expression.
"Sorry, Professor," the Ravenclaw boy said. I just wanted to see how you would react. I heard that you were really smart when you were at Hogwarts. I did a ton of research on you. You were the best friend of Harry Potter." He stated this as if he were completely sure of it.
"Professor, do you know how to change yourself into an animal? Like Headmistress McGonagall used to do?"
"Professor, do you know how to change me into an animal? That would be cool!"
A chorus of voices rose up, shouting, "Professor! What other things can you do?"
Hermione was taken aback for a second or two. Then, she sighed before snapping her fingers to get their attention.
"Well, I'll show you later. And yes, I was one of 'the best friends' of Harry, if you say it like that. Now, anyway, class is almost over, so your homework is to read the passage on page forty-one of your textbook."
"What about Damien?" a brawny Hufflepuff boy asked her as the students were leaving the classroom.
"Oh, he'll probably find his way," said Hermione. "He can come to class tomorrow if he behaves well. I hope." Not, she added under her breath.
The boy nodded and exited the classroom.
"So how was your first day, Granger?" Headmistress McGonagall swept towards her in a black cloak.
Hermione turned around, nearly bumping into someone in the process. The corridors were wide, but between classes, they were inundated with students.
"Headmistress—I didn't think you'd be here—"
"Now, now," McGonagall told her. "If you're acting like this, your first teaching day must have not gone well."
"Yes, it hasn't," Hermione agreed. "I had to kick someone out of my classroom for being disrespectful, my class simply couldn't get under control, and I was almost hexed by a neglectful student."
"My, my," said McGonagall. "Try to be sterner, Granger. The best teachers are both knowledgeable and serious at the same time. Oh, and by the way, could you give this letter to Draco Malfoy? I believe he hasn't replied to me about the open Potions Master position—"
"WHAT?!" Hermione nearly screeched. "Headmistress, why would—how—what in Merlin has he—ugh, why did you give it to him?! He would make a horrible teacher, he hates children, and he's an arrogant, rude arse! He was just released from Azkaban for being a DEATH EATER! A Death Eater, for Merlin's sake!"
People in the corridor were staring at Hermione, but she ignored them. "Malfoy doesn't deserve anything anyone offers him!"
McGonagall sighed. "Hermione, that's why I'm sending the note to him—to give him one last chance to accept the job. If you could be kind enough to deliver it to him, you have my utmost respect. In the meantime, you'll see that your old enemy could have changed."
After a minute of silence and deep breaths, Hermione took the note with quivering fingers, still trembling from the aftermath of her rage, and tucked it into her robe.
I'm not sure if this chapter mirrored Hermione's personality accurately, but eh. Also, I uploaded it today because I'll be away for a couple of days.