Chapter 7: Rent the fabric, start again
As the start of term commenced with the arrival of the students and the standard Sorting ceremony, Cassie learned the awkwardness of eating in front of a crowd. At the high table, she felt as though she were on display, elbow to elbow with the other teachers. She found some comfort in the fact that the students did not seem to pay attention to their end of the room, and she was ever thankful for the company what with Minerva on one side and Aurora Sinistra on the other. Best of all was the fact that she had finally gotten a chance to speak with the house elves about her distaste for anything made with pumpkin or internal organs. As a result, her breakfast of decaffeinated coffee, egg-white omelet, and whole grain toast was much more in keeping with her usual fare. Other than the first day jitters she had yet to get over, Cassie felt quite at home in the hallowed castle with people who were worlds different from herself, and yet much the same.
However, by that next morning, all her flutters had calmed reasonably enough that she really began to enjoy her classes. For the most part, her students were incredibly bright and came up with the most amusing questions, completely undone by someone who had no magical tendencies whatsoever. Her best question of the day was from a third year who wondered how they vanished the contents of commodes without an automatic flushing charm. The biggest surprise yet was Wednesday when her OWL level students entered. As expected, Draco Malfoy was one of the first into the room and made no pretense at being in the wrong place, he proceeded to sit right up front. Despite being prepared for the sight of him, Cassie still felt her knees buckle and gripped the edge of her desk, glad to have it between she and the class so no one was the wiser. That blond hair and swaggering walk was all too familiar.
She knew his first day back had been difficult. Suddenly two of the closest friends he had would not even speak to him, and somehow he and Blaise Zabini had gotten into a scuffle on the train that afforded Zabini a black eye and broken nose though no one was quite willing to admit how it happened or what was said. He had taken to walking through the halls alone, sitting at the very end of the Slytherin table and ate hunched over his meals, talking to no one. Even Pansy Parkinson seemed to regard him with disdain. In fact, the only Slytherins who still seemed to acknowledge him at all were Graham Pritchard and Tracey Davis. If or when they did, however, it was amid looks of utmost disgust from the rest of the table.
As he settled into her classroom though it was with all the apparent zeal of starting the most interesting of subjects. He sat, book out, parchment and quill at the ready, waiting for her to address the class.
"Thank you all for making it on time," she began, "I hope everyone had a good...night's sleep, and are ready to go this morning." She finished lamely, clutching the chalk in her now sweaty hand. She had just been on the verge of saying "summer," but knew undoubtedly that at least one of her students had not enjoyed his and any number of others may not have either. Glad for a reason to turn her back and take a breath, she wrote her name on the chalkboard, then stepped to the podium to take roll before she introduced herself.
"As many of you may know already, my name is Professor Pearl and I am a Muggle." This news did register a few gasps and titters, but not as many as she'd expected. Clearly, the students who heard this speech the day before spent no time relaying the news of a Muggle professor. "I am not, however, new to teaching or working with children and I have already been exposed" her eyes rested briefly on Malfoy before continuing "to your world and how it works. For some of you I may be the first Muggle you've met and as such, will be able to teach you loads of things you couldn't get from books."
"I have also been through the books Professor Burbage assigned you, and though they are lacking in some respects, I'm sure I can take up the slack. As an example, I can assure you that the correct term is 'firearms' as opposed to 'firelegs' and--" she stopped abruptly as Draco raised his hand. "Mr....Malfoy, is that right?"
"Yes, Professor," he drawled. "I wonder, with 'firearms' and the any number of other weapons you Mud--ggles have created, are you as much of a warring class of...people...as you seem?"
"Honestly!" piped up a cherubic girl with blonde ringlets. Mandy, was it? "Muggles aren't as bad as all that. I think they're cute."
"I appreciate you correcting yourself--and for raising your hand, Mr. Malfoy," she said, looking pointedly at the girl who had spoken out. So he still has quite a bad taste in his mouth, she thought, and took a steadying breath before replying. "Honestly though Draco, it depends on the Muggle just as much as it does the wizard. I'll say this, we are no more cute and cuddly than we are barbaric and warring. The best advice I can give you as to know what Muggles are like personally is to imagine every single person you know and picture them unable to do magic. There are as many different types of Muggles, in any number of shapes, sizes, and temperaments as there are witches and wizards. Some good, some bad. Ultimately, except for the magic, we're no different than you."
Cassie was reminded sharply of a line from one of her favorite John Cusack movies: "we all shit the same, scream the same, and die the same." The irony that his character had been talking to Hitler about the similarity between he and the Jews was not lost on her, especially when she found herself facing a boy-child who mouthed off about purity of blood and could very well pass for a Nazi youth.
Moving the class back on track, though, she pushed into the safe realm of classroom rules and expectations before writing their first assignment on the board and opening the floor for questions. Once again, Draco's hand shot into the air first and she steeled herself wondering what he might ask next, tipping her head in his direction she asked, "yes, Draco?"
"Professor, do Muggles duel with weapons as wizards do with wands?"
Here we go, she thought. "Well, that's kind of complicated. Years ago, they did in fact duel with swords or perhaps flintlock pistols--an early form of a small, hand-held firearm--but nowadays dueling is actually out of vogue. Fighting with weapons is considered illegal in modern Muggle societies...unless it's in the case of self-defense. If anyone fights typically in a silly brawl, they are more likely to do it with fists than anything else. At any rate, outright fighting, unless it is in an act of war done by soldiers, or as I mentioned self-defense, would land them in jail for assault. Anyone else?"
"What were your schools like?" asked one boy at the back of the room, effectively putting the subject back on much safer grounds.
Later, left to what was now a splitting headache, Cassie secretly hoped this did not set the tone for the rest of the year. She was surprised at that point by Madame Pomfrey bustling in with a small vial of amber liquid in one hand and another of a bluish brew in the other.
"Good morning, my dear," she nodded curtly. "Dumbledore pointed out that you may not be aware we had these available. Almost all the teachers need them the first day or so back." She set the vials down on the desk next to Cassie's arm and gestured at each. "A tension taming tonic for headaches or...should you still need it, a calming draught for the butterflies."
"Oh tension taming sounds fantastic, please." She sighed, deeply relieved as she tipped the amber potion up and swallowed, feeling immediate relief. "The jitters thankfully didn't last very long yesterday." Oh man! Where was this stuff all her life? she wondered.
"Good, good," Poppy nodded. "Dumbledore also made me understand...in not so many words...that is, that your erm, previous condition was not...to put it delicately, of your choosing."
"Ah. Um. No, it wasn't," she replied, not quite able to meet the woman's eyes.
"I do apologize for a silly woman's assumptions. I know there is some grief involved typically howsoever you lose a child, and if there's anything I can do..."
"Thank you. I'll keep it in mind."
"Indeed. Well, I won't keep you dear." At that, the woman took up the other vial, placed it in her pinafore pocket, and was gone.
Cassie slid her head down on her folded arms and wished fervently that the day was over. As it was she still had the NEWT level sixth-years to go and night patrol. Lump, who had already explored the castle to his heart's content, had resigned himself to following her everywhere she went just as he used to back home. At this point, he was living up to his name, laying under the desk snoring away for all the noise and confusion of a class day. "Well, fuzzy bear, it's time for lunch," Cassie said, scooting back her chair and shrugging into her cloak to fight the chill of the damp hallways. At the word "lunch," Lump bolted up out of a dead sleep and ambled to the door, looking back as if in wonder at what was taking her so long.
He had discovered that being the one animal in a castle full of children meant any number of hand-outs and ear rubs, especially at meal times. The house elves, timid of his size at first, had grown to love him as well and had taken to leaving plates of food and water in Cassie's room for him twice daily. As a result, he was already growing to a much more sizeable Lump and needed daily walks with Hagrid and Fang about the grounds. The biggest shock of all regarding her lovable pet though was coming across Severus doing his rounds the first night of term when she couldn't sleep. There he was, strolling along the third floor corridor with Lump at his side. It was all she could do not to laugh.
Now, heading out the door, she allowed herself a chuckle at the memory of seeing man and dog out for what appeared to be a friendly walk. Later on, after finally eating something, her day did improve. Her headache gone, the NEWT students she found to be much more knowledgeable with an extra year of Muggle Studies under their belts, and her patrol even passed without more than a simple rebuke and 20 points each for two Hufflepuffs kissing behind the tapestry covering the fourth floor stairs. At last, the day over, Cassie could sink under the covers and relax in peaceful silence, too tired for a change to worry what her dreams would bring.
Ed. note: As an fyi, I stuck Draco in with the OWL year kids (5th) since he had not taken an OWL for that class. Without the test, presumably, he could not advance to be in the same class as the other 6th years even though he is nearly caught up with the material.