A/N: Still so busy that I almost forgot to update...sorry! I'm so flattered by your generous positive response to this story, thank you so much!

Continued praise to my beta niffizzle - it's such a delight working with her!

As it turned out, even being confined to a very large castle with a lot of space led the present individuals to develop some kind of cabin fever. Hermione had no idea how, but someone had managed to smuggle Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products into the castle, as well as some more simple prank ideas.

This led to situations one could consider comical. For example, one morning, she was in the midst of teaching the younger student some basic Transfiguration they had obviously not paid attention to during the regular school year, when Jessica Lee vomited on the classroom floor. The incident had rather disgusted the professor, but she wouldn't let her faze her. "Puking Pastilles, really?" Hermione asked, not above rolling her eyes as way of expressing herself. "What's next? U-No-Poo?"

Jessica looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights, probably not having considered the professor's extensive prank product knowledge.

"You should know I have spent too many days reversing Fred and George Weasleys' experimental joke products since the Nineties." She whipped her wand and didn't only vanish the result of the Puking Pastilles, but every WWW product within her classroom, much to the students' horror who grasped their now empty pockets. "I'm not so easy to distract, Jessica. You should know that by now. So stop pretending, and name Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration and its exceptions."

Still in shock, the girl perfectly recited all four of them perfectly.

The next victim had was Draco, and the look on his face when he sat down for dinner and a very loud, unmistakably farting noise was released was priceless, and almost worth sitting next to an irritated Malfoy who mumbled about how, "Whoopee cushions should be classified as Dark objects." Nevertheless, she vowed to discuss her observations concerning the cabin fever with her colleague the next morning, complete with her plans to lower it.

However, when she returned to her quarters that evening from her rounds, she received a surprise that sped her fever relief plans up quite a bit.

Draco opened the door, surprised. Originally, he and Hermione had decided to skip their more informal talks for the evening because they both had a stack of papers to read. Though, it was a pleasant surprise for him.

Hermione stood in front of his door. And she was soaking wet. So wet he couldn't help to notice that the (thank Merlin) white shirt she wore perfectly showcased her deep purple bra and even her pebbled-

"Professor Malfoy -"

Fuck, she was really angry when she addressed him like that.

"As you see, I'm very wet right now." Only the rage in her voice stopped him from taking up on this pun. "And so I came here to my favourite colleague to ask him," at these words from her lips Draco felt more ordered than asked, "to reign his Slytherin students in," she finished, the water dripping from her body onto the ancient stone floor in front of his quarters. He wanted to be that floor.

"I can't say I'm too appalled by their deeds, my dearest Professor Granger." He found himself in foreplay mode without deciding it actively and casually leaned against his door. "And how do you even know it's the Slytherins I owe this piece of art to?"

"Stop your pretend flirting, Draco! Of course, it's been them!" With a flick of her wrist, Hermione summoned an object wandlessly. Namely, a bucket with a Slytherin emblem on it.

Draco raised his hands in defeat, grinning at the same time. "Okay, even with the evidence not being waterproof, I'm going to talk to them tomorrow."

"Thank you. That's all I want. Just for your information, with this level of cabin fever, I intend to take them on a field trip to London, as I have some things to do there. And you will come along." Again, an order. And Draco didn't even feel bad or incensed about being ordered around by this incredible witch whose eyes were sparkling at him.

He leaned forward, nodding approvingly, and ran an equally wandless Drying Charm over her, his hand only inches from her skin and fabric. He swore he could hear her breathing in sharply when he reached her breast. Though the temptation was definitely there, he refrained from touching her. "Just for your information, Hermione," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "you'd know if my flirting were pretend."

To see her reacting with glazed eyes and a well-defined blush on her cheeks made him warm inside, and he could actually see her thinking To give her the final poke, he pecked on the cheek, saying, "Sweet dreams," before closing the door. And heading for a cold late night shower.

Three days later, the group of excited students and two professors stepped onto Diagon Alley through a public floo. To assure that everyone arrived safe and in one piece was demanding, but walking around the wizarding street was an entirely different act.

Curious glances followed them, although 'curious was a polite stretch for some persons they encountered. The public's eye rested more on the two professors than on the students they led. Hermione, always the Golden Girl, received glances filled with awe and respect. But even though Draco had largely re-established his own name in the eyes of the wizarding society, it was rare that he was seen performing his role as Professor. And now, at Hermione Granger's side? That was topic to gossip about in the Leaky Cauldron or at afternoon tea.

"Draco, I'm not sure I'd like to be on the front page tomorrow," Hermione spoke to her colleague, the students meandering around them (meaning: some were trailing behind, some were dreamily staring at a store window, and others were listening to what their teachers had to say).

He hummed in agreement and waved his wand.

"Did you just cast a Distraction Charm, Professor Malfoy?" a student asked.

"Well done, Wood. That's correct."

"Why?" Wood had obviously stared at the store window.

"Because Professor Malfoy and I would like to avoid us together in the Prophet." After she closed her mouth, Hermione realized how her words could be interpreted and, for the life of her, couldn't suppress a slight blush. "I didn't mean together, I mean as in one photo closely associated." Some girls giggled.

"Yes, because you calling me by my first name in public so helps this matter," Draco whispered next to her ear, and she could feel his smirk. Annoying, attractive git.

As a professional, she overcame her momentary fib and whistled on her fingers to gather the students around her, a trick she had learned from her mentor at uni ("It works with dogs, it works with pupils.") Slightly raising her voice, she reminded the group, "We're going to visit the Natural History Museum today, so remember what we talked about: no touching, no slouching, no noise."

While the visit to the museum had been uneventful, if a bit boring for Draco because the students had actually behaved and acted interested in the exhibited history, the following shopping trip in Muggle London was more of a challenge for him. This probably had a lot to do with the circumstance that he now bore the responsibility for the group all alone since Hermione had gone who-knows-where to run her super important errand.

Though, he was a smart man and a very skilled wizard, so he used a nifty spell he had found in the Malfoy library a while ago and traced the steps of each student with the help of a map. Originally, some ancestor had developed this to follow his unmannerly wife - which resulted in him ending up at the wrong side of her wand and a comment in his ancestor's memoirs that he had been lucky to have already produced an heir beforehand.

Smirking to himself as he unfolded the map after casting a Muggle repelling charm under the table, he enjoyed the warm summer day in front of a lovely café. The pretty waitress had tried to flirt with him when she brought him his Earl Grey, but Draco had merely politely smiled at her. Because, for one, he was on duty, and two… he had slowly, but surely come to terms that his interest lay elsewhere. With one, brilliant, annoying Charms colleague of his.

"So, where are you, future of the wizarding world?" he mumbled, searching the map.

To his pleasant surprise, most of the students had distributed over various Muggle shops: books, cosmetics, clothes, shoes, all the Muggle things he had learned that girls and boys appreciated in their daily life but one couldn't purchase in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. He also noticed, and that made him proud and hopeful, that those with experience in the Muggle world had taken the purebloods under their wings. Most of them had never left the wizarding world before, and that was something the staff of Hogwarts, all responsible adults really, should work on to correct. For Draco, it had been a terrifying, exciting, and in the end, very rewarding experience when he had ventured into the Muggle world on his own after the war. Because he had known he had to learn. Because he had known he needed to see his world with different eyes.

All of a sudden, his gaze froze. A group of six boys had entered an etablissement that was labelled Betty's Booby Bravado…

[90 minutes later]

"A strip club? Merlin, you are kidding me, right?" Hermione said, exasperated. "There probably is a very good explanation for that, isn't there? Did one of you have a heart attack and you went there for medical help or something?" She could see Draco, who stood behind the six boys as she berated them, suppressing his laughter.

"But, as we already told Professor Malfoy, Smith is a Muggle-born, you know? And he said there were women who showed their boobs in that building! We couldn't pass this opportunity up now, could we?" Everton explained, beet-red.

Hermione still huffed, but when her eyes met Draco's, she couldn't fight a slight smile. He had probably been a bit more inwardly understanding, having been a male teenager himself to whom the word "boobs" was the most powerful existing spell. But he had left it to her to play the "bad cop", a Muggle reference he had adopted very quickly.

Though, the more pressing rule break hadn't been that they had visited the club, but that they had Confunded the doorkeeper to let them in. The only reason they hadn't a flock of unfriendly owls from the Improper Use of Magic Office sitting on their shoulders was that the summer students' ban from using magic had been lifted so they still could practise and learn.

"You're very lucky I can't take house points over the summer!" Hermione reprimanded the students. "But the house elves could need a bit time off, so you all just volunteered to prepare breakfast for the next week."

She turned and laughed to herself, hearing one student saying, "She's joking, right? Right, Professor Malfoy?"

Draco's deep, resonating chuckle made her want to turn back. "Professor Granger never makes fun about house elf labour. And you better get the coffee right."

"What has you so broody this evening? Has it something to do with the errand you ran while I had to handle a bunch of boob-crazy boys?"

Hermione smiled at Draco from her place on his sofa, taken out of her reverie. She swirled the delicious Merlot in her wine glass. "Not at all, and I think you handled them quite well. But yes, it has something to do with what I did in the meantime. You remember how I told you I had a hunch about Jacob Higgins but had to confirm some things?"

Draco nodded, remembering the day they diagnosed each students' level of competence.

Hermione turned fully towards him, continuing to explain, "Well, you see, Jacob reminded me of a boy in my primary school class. I contacted my former teacher, and she sent me instructions to test him a few days ago. I discussed the results with her today. And my gut feeling was right - he has a moderate learning difficulty and would, in the Muggle school system, be what is called a SEN case. Jacob is a pupil with Special Educational Needs."

Intrigued, Draco leaned forward, his elbows leaning on his legs, his head on the folded hands. The slight crease between his brows indicated that he was thinking about this new information. A very attractive look on him, Hermione thought, not for the first time. "What does this mean for us as a school and for Higgins as a pupil?" he sincerely asked.

She had expected that question and launched to answer. "This means that we have to adapt our schooling, at least partially, so Jacob can make as much progress as possible considering his capabilities without having to pass the regular exams because it would be unfair for him to take them. He can't meet the same expectations as the others, at least not in most areas of what we teach. Mrs Johnson, my primary school teacher, gave me some book titles that could help us, along with some material we can orientate ourselves with. She also told me that we might have to explain some tasks individually, in simpler words, and that step-by-step imitation can be helpful."

"So, let's say I'm going to teach the class the Shield Spell," Draco wanted to know. "I'm going to go over to Higgins afterwards and demonstrate to him the wand movements and incantations step-by-step? And maybe, in the next lesson, I'll do it again. And instead of having him write a theoretical essay, I could, for example, have him come to my office and demonstrate what he has achieved."

Hermione felt herself smiling broadly. "Exactly!"

Then, Draco fell silent for a while, eyes on the darkening sky outside the window, before he shared, "Jacob Higgins can't be the only one with that diagnosis in the history of Hogwarts. I mean, you remember Goyle, don't you? He could handle the practical part of most lessons alright after a few days, but his essays were… unreadable."

"Yes, you're absolutely correct. We probably have and had more pupils at Hogwarts with special needs! Of course, the records don't mention anything, but why should it be any different here than in the rest of Great Britain?"

Her voice had grown harder, so that Draco stated, "You're angry."

"Yes! We've been so negligent! We're teachers, for Merlin's sake! Why didn't that occur to us earlier?!"

On that, Draco had an answer because he had already pondered it. "Look at our community, Hermione. We practically shun the weakest members, those without magical abilities, make them outcasts. What do you expect?"

Hermione looked at him in awe, realising he really had paid attention to her, and had just spoke some ugly, but true, words about their community.

But he wasn't done yet. "We have to change that," he continued, his resolve growing stronger. "Complicated and difficult it may be, but we can't believe us tolerant because we longer discriminate against Muggle-borns."

Hermione's smile could light the entire castle. "I could kiss you right now, Professor Malfoy!"

"Why don't you?" he asked, leaning his arm on the rest of the couch, opening his posture to her.

To his utter surprise, Hermione leaned forward and gave him a very soft kiss, just a careful, but definitely press of her soft lips, whispering a "Thank you." against his lips. The contact might have had a duration of two seconds, but Draco was affected as if she had snogged him for minutes.

Then, she jumped back into work mode, backing away from him and pulling a roll of parchment from somewhere. "I've already formulated a petition to be handed to the Board of Governors..."

Draco needed some seconds to catch up with her because he still felt the tingle of her lips, her scent in his nose, and her warmth she put into the kiss. Were she any other witch, he would've been put off at her sudden switch of behaviour, returning back to a topic of work after such a game-changer like a bloody brilliant, completely innocent kiss.

But this was Hermione Granger. Draco knew, for all the affection she showered the people close to her with, she was ruled by logic and rationality. She needed time to process such events, even when the kiss had clearly been initiated by herself. He would wait. And, judging by the openly curious and coy expression in her eyes when she peeked up from under her lashes to discuss some points of the parchment with him, he wouldn't have to wait for long. Or maybe she wanted him to take the initiative the next time around?

Draco smiled, elated. He was definitely ready to find an answer to that question.