Patchwork

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter NOR any of his friends NEITHER any of his enemies. It's hard to admit, but when I'm done with them all, I have to return them to Joanne K. Rowling in an original wrapping and unharmed.
I make no money, I mean no harm.

Patchwork
Live and Learn

"Morning," Tisha greeted in a singsong as she was taking her place at the table, still three seats down from Severus. But as there was more then ten minutes to the staff meeting left, all three places were empty, allowing her to see more of the Potions Master then just the tip of his nose. Tisha chuckled at the thought.

"Yes, it is," Severus replied coolly. The planned regular meetings Minerva insisted on were, in his opinion, a total waste of time, and that he had to attend them didn't add to his mood. The fact that this was going to be only the first of them changed nothing on his already annoyed attitude. Minerva was conferring with Moody next to the door and Vectra and Sprout were whispering and giggling, not paying him any attention, so he frowned at Tisha, who sighed and rolled her eyes. She got up again and strolled to stand behing him.

"You're in a bad mood, Professor," she accused him.

"Under current circumstances, it is hardly surprising."

"I see," Tisha said gravely. "The eternal suffering of a teacher, plagued with ungrateful students, inept and infuriating, most of them unbelievably thick and the rest equally unbelievably reckless."

"If I didn't know you, I would say you agree with my opinions," Severus retorted, losing the hostile edge.

"If I didn't know you, I would say you like it," Tisha said mysteriously, not being able to come up with a better reply. Severus looked at her and she winked and returned to her place.

The rest of the Professors quickly filed in the room and took their respective places, each bringing a piece of themselves to the atmosphere. Sinistra brought a box with lenses to clean, Madame Hooch practically jogged in, Trelawney went three times around the table until she found her seat and Binns, the last one, floated in through the wall just next to the door never realising that. Minerva stood at the head and cleared her throat.

"I see we are all here, so let's begin. The sooner we start, the sooner we're done." She paused to allow Vectra and Sprout come back from the land of gossip and sat down. "First of all, has anybody discovered any problems with the timetables?"

"There's never been any," Flitwick said after five seconds of silence.

"There's a first time for everything." Minerva ticked something off on her parchment. "Any exceptional problems with students?"

"Except for Mr. Brocks being an improbable reincarnation of the Weasley twins and Miss Granger combined, not yet," Severus supplied when no-one else seemed to have anything to say.

"You've already given him a detention... twice." Minerva eyed Severus suspiciously.

"That happens when a student insists on breaking the rules... twice." Tisha smiled at that. For a second, her eyes met Minerva's, and what flashed in the Headmistress' eyes could only be described as a twinkle.

For ten more minutes, Minerva was listing mundane tasks and checking how they had gone through the past week. She seemed to have thought of everything.

"Very well. The shadow has appeared again," Minerva said matter-of-factly, when everything on the list had been ticked off. "Closer to the ground floor level." A collective sigh sounded as a response. Tisha felt instantly uncomfortable. She knew what that was about, she had been there - but she seemed to be the one who understood the least of it all.

"At night, I hope?" Sinister asked, creasing her eyebrows.

"Yes, at night, and it was dealt with without difficulty," Moody answered quickly. "But it's a reminder for all of you to stay vigilant during the patrols, especially in the dungeons." He bent forward to make sure even the Professors on the same side of the table could catch his warning stare. "Professor Malfoy, I'm afraid you won't be able to patrol at night. These shadows need to be handled by a wizard or a witch."

"Of course," Tisha agreed, although not feeling very happy about it.

"The updated list of patrol nights is already available," Minerva added. "In case of troubles don't hesitate to call Alastor, Severus or me for assistance." Trelawney, being scrutinised by Headmistress, shifted uncomfortably and murmured something.

"The lessons of flying start next week, as usually be prepared for anything." Madame Hooch nodded at that and smiled. "The Quidditch try-outs are planned for next Saturday, please remind the captains." The respective heads of houses confirmed that. "And as a good news for the ending, a new Transfiguration teacher will be joining us after Halloween."

"Great!" Sprout exclaimed. "Who is it?"

"Constantinus Greeneye, if you remember him?" Minerva looked around the table. Most of the Professors recalled the former student. "A Slytherin, I believe he was the same year as you, Severus."

"That is correct," Severus said icily. "He used to excell in Transfiguration."

"Very well," smiled Minerva, pretending not to have noticed the aversion in his voice. "Unfortunately his current job doesn't allow him to arrive earlier. Does anybody have anything to add? Excellent, the meeting is over. Next one in a fortnight." A sigh of relief was heard from those who knew Minerva had originally planned to have the meetings weekly. Flitwick made a quiet whooping sound when descending from his chair. He was leaving the castle after the meeting to spend the weekend with his family.

Severus remained seated until everyone except for Tisha left the room.

"Professor Malfoy," he said in the end. The Squib, standing by the door, slightly lifted her eyebrows and folded her arms on her chest.

"Professor Snape?" He rose and walked out of the room without another word. Tisha, however, decided to follow him, even if she had to almost run to keep up with his pace.

"The future Professor Greeneye who excells in Transfiguration doesn't seem to be to your liking," she attempted at a conversation.

"He always belonged to the inept part of the students."

"He may have changed." Severus snorted.

"Some levels of intelectuality cannot be cured."

"Are you saying he is an idiot?"

"Oh, I wouldn't dare to say that." Severus stopped abruptly and turned to her. "You are saying that. And your office is down this corridor."

"I'm going outside. The entrance hasn't been moved from the ground floor, has it?" The look of feigned innocence made Severus frown.

"That would be an interesting development," he admitted.

"Of course, it might solve many of your problems," Tisha speculated as they resumed walking again.

"Which ones?" Severus asked and immediately regretted it.

"The most infuriating students would probably try to sneak out of the castle to commit mischief and they would have a hard time getting back unnoticed, since they couldn't reach the entrance from the ground."

"They could summon a broomstick to fly up."

"Unless they are also inept." Severus shook his head at that.

"Well, the entrance is right here, in the Entrance Hall, so I suggest you use it before it disappears." He stopped again as if he wanted to make sure she would leave for real.

"Please don't move it until I'm back," Tisha added before walking out.

Portraits curiously watched as the Headmistress and the Defense Against Dark Arts Master entered an unused classroom. Minerva waited for Moody to seal the room before speaking.

"How bad it really is, Alastor?" Moody exhaled and evaded her eyes, seemingly watching both the windows in the classroom and the corridor outside the door. Eventually he had to reply the demanding stare that was too intense to be ignored by simply not looking.

"It's definitely not a manifestation of children mischief. Although," and the wizard admitted that with visible loathing, "it most probably gets more power from that."

"So Severus was right about that," Minerva whispered. She turned from Moody and walked to the window. Everything seemed so bright out there, but she could feel something dark and chilly deep inside. A premonition?

"Have you considered the possibility that... that Professor Malfoy may not be safe... here?" Moody forced out of himself. It sounded very much like agreeing to Snape's original opinion on her presence, and that was something Moody wanted to evade as much as possible.

"Has the shadow actually hurt anybody so far?" Minerva turned from the window once again.

"It has been always handled by a fully trained wizard so far."

"Professor Malfoy is no worse off than any of the students," Minerva decided. "We can expect her to behave maturely and not to walk into the danger, too."

"Very well," Moody smiled. It sounded logical and it was not agreeing with Snape. He could easily accept that.

"We should inform the prefects. Those of them who are at N.E.W.T. level of Defense are able to learn the spell already, aren't they?" Moody frowned.

"I don't like the idea of students handling the shadow on their own."

"And I don't like the idea of students running into the shadow without being prepared," Minerva replied. "We will warn them against playing heros, but those who are able to defend themselves shouldn't be deprived of the possibility. They are N.E.W.T. level students, Alastor. They should know better than to look for adventure," she added in a softer voice.

"You are right. I can slip the charm in the curriculum, just in case. It's a little tricky at first, but most of them will manage and it will be a great exercise for everybody." Minerva smiled.

"Thank you, Alastor." She patted his shoulder and left. That sounded like a Moody happy to teach, and if he stayed happy to teach, then he would stay teaching even if his original motive becomes an empty dream.

"He didn't have to dive so early," Draco said and pushed away his bottle of butterbeer to draw a diagram. "See, there's the Seeker, there's the Bludger and there's the Snitch. The opponent's Beater was right here, but his own Chaser was coming through..." The sound of the bell interrupted him and Blaise excused himself to serve the customer.

The two friends were sitting in a small room just next to the shop. The door led behind the counter and the customers couldn't see someone was there. But thanks to the slow business on any weekend that was not a Hogsmeade weekend at Hogwarts there were no customers throughout the morning and the topic of their conversation settled on the last important Quidditch match very soon. Draco continued squibbling on his diagram as a friendly chatter between Blaise and a woman sounded from the shop, irregularly adorned with children's cries of joy.

"Sorry, the Quoterras are... very regular customers," Blaise muttered as the bell sounded again, this time to mark the customer's departure. "So you think Chasers are completely stupid?" He took the drawing from Draco and started explaining his own view of the situation which resulted in the poor Seeker spending several days in the Healers' care.

"Heard from Ginny?" Draco asked innocently, when he finally made Blaise capitulate. "I've only seen her once this week, she keeps very much to herself."

"She keeps in touch," Blaise replied and something in the way he didn't quite meet Draco's eyes tipped the other boy off.

"She's been here!" he exclaimed, leaning forward. "How did you smuggle her out of the castle?"

Blaise looked at him like if he had gone mad, then forced out a smug smile.

"She can do all the smuggling without my help, you know."

"But how?"

"Oh, Draco, I can't tell you that!" The mastery of misleading is not telling lies, but telling the truth... and saying lies. There was nothing but truth in Blaise's statement, and still he managed to persuade Draco that he knew more than the blond.

"Never mind, I'll find out sooner or later." Draco got up. "I'd better go back. Might catch a learning session with Hermione in the afternoon." Blaise sniggered.

"What?"

"Nothing, just... It's funny how things changed, isn't it? Me and Ginny, you and Granger..."

"Hermione," Draco said almost automatically, suddenly pensive. "I'll drop by again."

"Okay, bye." He heard the bell sounded just before the door closed behind him. Slowly he started on the way to Hogwarts. Things had changed, certainly. Some of the Slytherins who used to look up to him were giving him nasty looks whenever they met, his former best friends were either dead or hiding, and his current best friends were Gryffindors. If someone would have told him, two years ago, how his so called mission would turn out in the end, he wouldn't have believed him.

The Hogwarts castle, always sort of in motion when nobody was looking, had many snug places where two or sometimes three students could talk in privacy without actually leaving the public area. A corner partially hidden behing a heavy curtain here, a niche covered by a convenient shadow there, a window at a place where the wall was particularly thick, so that someone could sit there unnoticed by anybody passing by until they came up directly against the window. Hermione and Ginny were sitting on one of those windows, sharing an uncomfortable silence and pretending the silence was friendly.

Hermione was holding the letter from Mrs. Weasley. It was a lenghty record of everything that happened in the household since she and Draco had left. At first, the girls were sharing the contents of the letter, but it soon came out Ginny had received a similar letter the day before that and was therefore properly informed.

"How's school?" Hermione asked just when Ginny decided to just get up and leave. The redhead shrugged.

"It doesn't seem difficult. What about you?"

"I feel like I forgot everything," Hermione admitted. "It's like I'm here for the first year, expect I'm excepted to have learned a lot already." Ginny looked at her as if the other girl had grown a second head, but said nothing. "You look tired," Hermione observed after a while.

"I'm still not the one who mixes up words," Ginny replied with a bit of real sting in it.

"I was testing your observation skills."

"I'm fine!" Hermione politely cleared her throat. Ginny didn't sound fine, to the point that it had to be obvious even to her.

But instead of admitting that and turning it into a joke, Ginny hopped down from the window and with a exasperated sigh just left. Hermione panicked. She had aimed at breaking the ice, but achieved the opposite.

"Ginny, wait!" She ran to catch up with her friend who had just disappeared around a corner. There was a door to a classroom, another corridor and a staircase running up and down from the spot there... and no Ginny.

Hermione sagged and unhappily turned to find her way to the library.

Tisha spent the morning wandering around the lake. As she was returning to the castle for lunch, she met Draco coming from Hogsmeade. They greeted each other and without saying a word continued directly to Tisha's office.

"I'll ask Dobby to bring us lunch here," Tisha offered when Draco settled at the desk.

"That may not..." Draco tried to protest, but the house-elf was already there, looking at Tisha with an expression of utmost loyalty. A moment of awkward silence passed as Dobby noticed him and frowned. Then Draco cleared his throat.

"Hi... Dobby. Nice... hats." A proud smile spread across the elf's face. Tisha used the change in the mood to ask Dobby for lunch and within minutes the Malfoys were served with speed and grace that reminded Draco of old days in the Manor. Except for Dobby's choice of clothes, Draco realised and suppressed a snigger.

"Anything funny?" Tisha raised her elegant brows in question. Draco, suddenly at ease, told her about his visit to Blaise, about their friendship and how things had changed.

"You promised you'd tell me about the Muggle on the photograph," he remembered out of the blue. Tisha pushed away her plate and leant on her elbows, leaning slightly forward.

"It's my grandmother's story, really. She passed it to Mother and Mother passed it to me."

"I don't need to be a girl, do I?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice. Someone should know about this." Draco looked up; that sounded like something serious and quite important. Tisha smiled.

"His name was George. Grandmother met him by chance when she was just strolling through a small Muggle town. They ran into each other exactly at a moment when a storm started and he offered her shelter. There was some kind of investigation by the Ministry undergoing and Grandmother didn't want to jeopardise that by disappearing right before his eyes, so she accepted. They talked to each other for half an hour, until the storm ended, then she left. But..."

"They fell in love," Draco said in awe.

"It sounds like such a clich, doesn't it?" Tisha laughed. "Yes, they fell in love and later met again. It went on for some time. But Grandmother was married to Lord Malfoy, a head of a pureblood family that insisted magic should be reserved for purebloods. So in the end she left him."

"And all that is left is an old picture."

"Well... no. She became pregnant and had a son." Draco recalled the family tree he had seen so many times before.

"She had three sons, right? Which one was that?"

"The youngest. The one that survived the great fever two years later, naturally."

Draco knew pureblood families, in their race after staying strictly pureblood, kept overlooking relations between the couples they wanted to get married - that is, as very often there were two connections between their parents, but only one was chosen to be displayed in the family tree. Draco knew that the interbreeding this led to could cause healthy issues... theoretically.

"Naturally... My grandfather?" he asked. Tisha nodded. "Did he know?" She shook her head. "So technically, I'm not pureblood?" Now she shrugged. A second - and young Lord Malfoy burst out laughing. It was an uncontrollable, hysterical laughter, during which Draco almost fell under the desk.

"Do you think there are more families like that? Pureblood basta... you know?" he asked when he calmed down a little.

"Oh, the language," his aunt chided him jokingly. "How would I... come in!" she cried out as someone knocked. The door opened and revealed Neville. He still had leaves in his hair, a certain sign he had spent the morning helping in the greenhouses.

"Am I interrupting anything?" he asked. "I heard someone having a hysterical fit." Draco started laughing again, but calmed down quickly because this time Tisha gave him a very malfoyish look of that-was-quite-enough.

"Guess what, Neville - I'm not a pureblood!" Neville shot Tisha a puzzled look. Draco completely missed the expression of displeasure that briefly crossed her face, but Neville noted it.

"I can just..."

"Please come in," Tisha sighed and got up to fetch one more chair to the desk. "At this point, Draco owes you an explanation, I believe." Neville closed the door and sat down at the table, politely listening as Draco retold the story, all the time watching Tisha's face. She seemed to be disgruntled by the approach Draco chose.

"That really makes all Father did pointless, doesn't it?" Draco finished with an air of satisfaction. "I'll be so glad to put all of this behind me." Again, Neville noticed Tisha was frowning for a second before she managed to fake a smile.

"I should probably go and wash before the lunch is over," Neville stood up. "Thanks for the story." He put the chair back into its place.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Draco asked.

"No, but she might be in the library."

"I was hoping she could help me with Transfiguration." Draco stood up too, turned to Tisha and after a second of hesitation pecked her on the cheek. "See you!"

Tisha let out a deep sigh.

Hermione was, indeed, in the library, and even studying Transfiguration. She had brought several books to a little table in a corner and worked on fully understanding the last lesson, jumping from one book to another with every reference. She was so deeply immersed in it that she failed to notice Robert standing at the table for five minutes. Eventually, the small boy cleared his throat.

"Oh! Hello," Hermione smiled at him.

"Hi. Could I borrow Transfigurating Figured Out for a second?" He pointed at a relatively thin book, which in response rustled with the pages. Hermione picked it up from the table. The book was, in spite of its name, practically only a commented list of crossreferences that were somehow related to Transfiguration. It seemed to be pleased by the attention and eager to be read.

"That's very advance reading for a first-year," Hermione noted as she handed the book to Robert who opened it right away.

"I only need one paragraph... here it is." He stood at the table, lips moving and eyes quickly scanning the letters. The book made a disappointed sound when he put it back on the table.

"You've read it before, haven't you?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Just scanned it. It sounded interesting, but I didn't really understand most of the stuff." Absentmindedly, the boy caressed the cover and the book purred.

"And what are you doing now?"

"We're writing an essay for Potions. It's about..."

"Robert!" Elizabeth hissed from the nearest shelf. Madam Pince raised head from the book she was reading and tutted at her. Elizabeth tiptoed to Hermione and Robert.

"I want to go over the Transfiguration lesson and you still haven't finished the Potions essay," she complained quietly. "It's already twice as long as it was supposed to be."

"But it's incomplete," Robert argued.

"What's in the first week of Transfiguration, anyway," Hermione said quickly. "I totally forgot with what we started." Robert, obviously annoyed by the change of topic, inhaled and opened his mouth, but Elizabeth was quicker and briefly summarised her knowledge of Tranfiguration.

"And what is it you don't understand?" Hermione asked and tapped on a nearby chair to invite Elizabeth to sit down. Robert hesitated for a second, but in the end his manners overcame his annoyance and he fetched his and Elizabeth's things from another table. Madam Pince again tutted when he bumped into a shelf on the way.

When Draco found them, the Transfiguration lesson was fully underway. Even Robert listened with unpretended interest, the more because Hermione, unlike Professor Snape, was willing to answer every question, even if it meant straying from the subject.

Draco decided not to interrupt and dragged another chair to the table. It made Madam Pince raise her head, and this time the librarian didn't tut.

"That feels like someone's turning my back into ice," Draco whispered. Somehow, the silence that spread around Madam Pince, made Hermione stop talking and both Robert and Elizabeth felt shivers running up and down their backs.

"What's wrong?" Robert asked nervously. Hermione shook her head.

"Let's put these books away and move someplace else," she suggested.

"Like the Room of Requirements?" Elizabeth piped in.

"What do you know about the Room of Requirements?" Hermione asked in awe. But noticing the way Madam Pince was still staring at them, she shook her head again. "You'll tell us on the way. Here, this one belongs into the last shelf under that window. Draco, these two are..."

"I know where they are from." The Slytherin gratefully took the books. They were from the very back of the library, quite out of the librarian's field of vision.

All four passed Madam Pince as quickly and quietly as they could. Once outside the library, Draco let out a deep sigh.

"I think I won't be going to the library," he stated.

"So what's wrong?" Elizabeth asked again. Draco took her schoolbag for her and let her start on the staircase before him.

"Must be because I started the war on the wrong side. Madam Pince is not as forgiving as everyone else." Draco frowned.

"Draco, they're Muggleborns, they don't know..."

"Ginny told me about the war," Elizabeth said. "That there was a dark wizard. And that..." she stopped and turned a little pink. It occured to her that telling Robert that Professor Snape was also a war hero might make the boy insupportable. Like he wanted to talk about anything but Potions and Professor Snape already!

"That many people died," she said in the end. Draco had to stop for a heartbeat to overcome a wave of nausea. Once again, he remembered Dumbledore's face, so peaceful, when the Killing curse hit him.

Hermione, too, suffered from an uncomfortable memory for a second.

"That's true," she said in the end, a little breathless, but they were climbing stairs, weren't they?

"Did you know them?" Robert asked.

"Most of them."

"Sorry," Robert mumbled. "See, we're almost here." He quickly paced the corridor up and down three times, and a door appeared.

"Ginny told you about this, too?" Draco asked.

"She's so cool!" Robert exclaimed and opened the door. Draco half expected to see lines of old broken or lost things in there; but there was a cosy study inside, with beige carpet, a bookshelf at the side and comfortably looking armchairs around a low table. There were paintings on the walls; Muggle paintings, Draco realised, a portrait, a landscape and a basket of fruits, all motionless. In the corner, there stood a grandfather's clock, loudly ticking, and next to it was even a window. The heavy curtains were closed.

"That's Grandfather's study," Robert said proudly.

"We can get back to Transfiguration here," Hermione remarked and sat down in one of the armchairs. She smiled contentedly and motion Draco to sit down, too.

"I hope the clock is accurate," Elizabeth said. "It's bad enough we have a detention, I don't want to come late."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't miss a minute of it," Robert exclaimed eagerly. Draco and Hermione exchanged a half-amused look. Most students would happily missed all of a detention, if it hadn't meant even a longer detention.

"What did you do to get a detention with Snape on Saturday afternoon?" Draco asked, leaning backwards.

As Robert easily jumped from Snape to Potions, and Hermione easily let him, the rest of the lesson didn't get anywhere near Transfiguration.

A.N.: Here it is! I noticed someone was reading the story, so I forced myself to finally finish this chapter (hint, hint, nudge, nudge). Next one should fast-forward a bit, to allow me to pick up a pace. Or make me, rather. It shouldn't be a diary.

As always, all reviews are deeply appreciated.