A/N: Thank you to all who've reviewed, favorited or followed. It means so much. I love this story, and if you saw my writers notebook for this story, you'd laugh! There is so much to come and many lines to untangle and pairings to explore :) and though it's a slow burn in some respects, Theo and Hermione will definitely heat up the pages as the story progresses. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter!
Legal: I own nothing you recognize. Make no money off this story.
Chapter 20
'What is he doing here?' Hermione thought as their new professor marched to the front of the class.
Her stomach rolled; adrenaline surged through her veins.
'Harry and Ron are going to freak when I tell them tomorrow night…' She thought, a tinge of fear skittering down her spine.
'There must be something I'm missing, to allow him here.' She bit her lip.
"What the bloody fuck is Professor McGonagall playing at?" She heard Draco hiss.
It was pitched low enough that she was sure it was meant for only Theo to hear, but since her dalliance with polyjuice in second year, her hearing was permanently augmented.
Theo tensed beside her; she didn't even think twice before sliding her hand down below the desk, their pinkies resting against one another.
She didn't know if Theo knew of her brief past with the massive wizard, but knew there definitely was history between himself, his family and their new professor.
She wanted him to know she stood beside him, whatever form that took.
Because of Harry and his visions, she also knew parts of of Draco's experience with the terrifying hulk of a man stalking up the center aisle.
It was no wonder Draco looked petrified with terror.
She didn't like how still Theo'd become, how… almost dangerously poised.
Worry over the power this man would wield over them as their professor had her worrying her lip until the taste of copper flooded her mouth.
The slight caress of her finger against his appeared to send a jolt through Theo's body, one she felt more than witnessed.
She knew from her past observations the rigid control Theo had over himself and it didn't fail him now.
He shifted slightly, just enough so their shoulders were almost touching—she could feel the tensions radiating off him with every breath.
His positioning was protective but not in front, shielding her. He was…
Side by side.
Equal.
Their professor reached his teaching dias and spun with an elegance and grace that his towering frame belied, his eyes roaming the class before resting upon where her, Theo and Draco were sitting.
His eyes fixed on Draco, the intensity of his gaze appearing to skewer the Slytherin.
Hermione saw saw all remaining color drain from his already pale face, though he refused to drop his gaze in deference.
"Mr. Malfoy," their professor spoke. "I'd appreciate if you'd see me after class. We have… much to discuss."
Heads swiveled between the front and where Draco sat, ranges of boredom, puzzlement, fear and outrage sprinkled upon the faces of their classmates. Draco nodded once, not dropping his eyes from the wizard.
His tone conveyed nothing, no hint as to what Draco was facing after class.
Hermione felt Theo vibrate with barely suppressed emotions, though a quick flick of her gaze showed him still the epitome of bored elegance.
Then the professors gaze swung to her and Theo, his left eyebrow raising and his lips pursed in apparent thought.
Her close physical proximity to a Death Eater's child wasn't as subtle as she'd thought as his focus appeared to narrow in on where their fingers brushed below the wooden surface.
He stared for what felt like eons but was mere seconds, then gave a nod, his face losing some of its rigidity; a tension she hadn't realized existed etched into his features.
It was… as if he'd come to terms with something…
Hermione couldn't be sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
"Welcome," the hulking form spoke, his voice conjuring up visions of smoke and sin wrapped with a ribbon of mirth. "To NEWT level Defense against the Dark Arts."
His straw colored hair was pulled back—the length longer than she last remembered it being—and held fast with leather threading. This exposed tattoos, intricately inked behind his ears where his hair had been closely shorn.
She hadn't remembered seeing tattoos when she'd last saw him, and she'd been close enough to see the aged scar bisecting his right eyebrow.l and a spattering if freckles along his jaw.
Their last meeting had been brief, but he'd always made an impression.
He was fierce, battle worn, yet…
Hermione felt her body thrum with anticipation, with curiosity, with a fierce need to defy.
Hermione straightened her shoulders and felt her chin harden as she glared in trepidation and defiance at the wizard as he opened his mouth to speak.
"My name is Thorfinn Rowle. Your new professor."
oOo-xXx-oOo
"We'll be waiting," Theo murmured to Draco as they packed up after class.
His lips barely moved.
Draco nodded, a stiff bow that could have been mistaken for him naturally flicking his hair off his brow.
Hermione and Theo walked out of the room amidst the rest of their classmates.
"I'll just—" Hermione began to edge away but Theo cut her off, grabbing her hand and entwining their fingers as she'd done the night they'd walked along the lakes shoreline.
"Stay." He said. "Please."
Her eyes searched his before she nodded and stood silently beside him.
The rest of the Slytherins save for Pansy moved along the corridor, having exchanged pointed looks with the two remaining.
"After this I'm going to Professor McGonagall." Hermione said, her jaw set. "She's not Dumbledore. There must be a legitimately good reason for…him to be our professor. Despite him appearing the best chance we've had for this class save for Professor Snape or Remus."
She shook her head. "Though of course he'd be knowledgeable in this subject. I'm just surprised he'd be interested in the 'defense' part of the dark arts."
She scoffed.
She felt both pairs of eyes on her, their intensity boring into her.
"How do you know our new professor?" Asked Theo, his face arranged into a careful mask, hiding his true thoughts below its surface.
She was surprised that she even recognized that it was, in fact, a mask, and not just a careful expression upon his face proper.
Either he was becoming sloppy in his personal defenses, or she was becoming even better at reading him, despite it only being a few days back.
'Not sloppy,' she thought, studying him closer. Almost… knowing! She felt her stomach drop. 'How could he know? I obliviated them?'
"I've run into him a time or two." She said vaguely.
"That's one way of putting it," Theo said, but didn't elaborate.
"You seem aware of him yourself Theo," she probed.
He rubbed his face with his free hand, the careful mask falling. He looked extremely tired, resigned.
He deflated slightly against the wall.
"I owe him a life debt. One forged in blood." He spoke the words so softly, Hermione almost missed them.
Pansy's head snapped around.
"WHAT?!" She whispered, the words heavy with despair. "Oh Theo!"
Pansy reached out and grasped his hand in apparent support.
Hermione knew life debts were rare, and knew blood magic was considered borderline dark magic, if not completely dark, but didn't know enough to truly understand why Pansy was looking at Theo like she'd already lost him.
Hermione had something new to research, another area of magic not taught in the standard curriculum.
Something that seemed ingrained in wizarding culture proper and not explained past generalities save for family derived education.
She frowned.
How Theo'd become indebted to the vicious wizard inside…. She shuddered to consider how he'd call in the payment.
"How did this—" Pansy was cut off by the door opening.
Draco exited the classroom silently, his face ashen save for red rimmed eyes and two spots of color upon his cheeks.
He seemed surprised to see them, despite knowing they'd be waiting, lost as he was in his thoughts.
Pansy waved her wand and Draco glowed orange all over before the glow zeroed in on his left arm.
"What's that spell," Hermione whispered to Theo. She'd never seen that wand movement or heard that incantation before.
"It identifies if magic was used on a person and where," Theo whispered back.
"Pansy, what the hell?" Draco went to hide his arm behind his back but Pansy was faster—she'd reached out and snagged his wrist before he'd even had a chance to react and had pushed up the sleeve of Draco's robe to reveal…
Nothing.
No Dark Mark; where all three of them knew it had been.
Not even a faint outline, or puckered scar tissue, showing forever what once was.
His arm was unblemished.
Pale, soft, smooth skin reflected the corridors candlelight back at their bewildered faves.
"What the fucking hell Draco." Theo breathed, his face a kaleidoscope of emotion.
Pansy appeared to waffle between joy and trepidation, if Hermione was reading her typically stoic face right.
Hermione felt… unsettled.
She didn't like unsettled.
"He's not what you think. What any of you think." Draco said, pulling his arm away from Pansy and shaking his sleeve down to cover his newly clean forearm.
"Now, I'm starved and supper awaits. I believe it's haggis and mash tonight, my favorite." He began walking, seeming not to care if any of them followed.
His posture was once again regal and his gait unburdened.
"I'll see Professor McGonagall after supper." Hermione promised Pansy and Theo. "I've no clue what just happened or why, but I'll get answers."
Pansy scoffed. "I know you just won a war and all that, but what makes you think ol' McGonagall will just invite your confidence like an equal?"
Hermione shrugged, "I don't. I'm not. But I do know I'm a favorite of hers." She stood straight, her hand tightening on Theo's as her lips tightened in suppressed anger. "I've had enough of secrets and duplicity from one Headmaster. I refuse to allow another to play test subject with our education, possibly our very lives, again, without attempting to intervene."
She felt rather than saw their appraisals.
"What?" She demanded.
Pansy was staring at her with a shrewd intensity, as if able to divine her inner thoughts the harder she squinted.
Hermione glanced up at Theo, and her breath caught in her throat at the look he was giving her; as if he couldn't believe she was real…
"You're bloody incredible," he whispered, bending so the words were for her ears alone.
She felt her cheeks heat from his words along with the warm breath that caressed them as he spoke, and turned her face subtly towards his.
'It would be so easy…' she thought, their lips close enough that if she tipped her head just so… moved closer just a bit more…
She felt an arm slide through hers, her body propelled forward, away from Theo.
Their fingers disentangled as she was swept along the corridor toward the stairs leading down to the Great Hall.
"Best get you fed so as to not let grass grow under your intent," Pansy said briskly, her words in time with the cadence her shoes were tapping against the stone floor.
Hermione understood the double meaning behind the benign words. She nodded at Pansy in thanks.
She couldn't wait to begin delving into the book she'd been given earlier; after speaking with Professor McGonagall and her study date with Theo.
oOo-xXx-oOo
"Aonachd," Hermione said, her native English tongue stumbling a bit over the pronunciation of the Gaelic term for Unity.
Since taking over as Headmistress, Hermione had noticed a subtle lean towards the ancient Gaelic phrases and Celtic Runes, not solely Latin derived expressions.
She thought the change a breath of fresh air and made her cautiously optimistic that the new regime would be less tradition and secret bound than the last.
The stone gargoyles separated, providing entry to the rotating staircase.
Upon her foot meeting the bottom tread, the staircase began to rise. She quickly ensured her other foot was secure to the step and her robes and person were firmly past the edge of the opening, lest she be scraped against the stone surround.
She'd read all about this office and the entrance enchantments in 'A Hogwarts a History,' but had never been in the headmasters or headmistresses office before; never had reason to be.
Even the year she'd been petrified.
Dumbledore had merely visited her in the hospital wing, giving general platitudes to those revived.
She suspected, for those of muggle heritage like herself, a subtle use of magic was employed to soothe and dismiss any legitimate and understandable concerns parents and guardians had had.
None had visited the castle that year, to check on their children.
Something Hermione had never found odd until she reflected upon it years later, once Dumbledore had passed.
She'd thought in passing about how her parents had been so agreeable to her returning to the school she'd almost perished in… twice. It wasn't until she'd modified their memories that she'd found the letters from Dumbledore, and realized how manipulative the man had truly been.
She knew his portrait now hung in the headmistress's office, and wasn't looking forward to having to either feign politeness or voice her true beliefs to the immortalized wizard.
She knew from conversations with Harry that Dumbledore had had many devices and instruments that he'd broken during his outrage and grief over losing Sirius in fifth year and that the wizard had filled his office space with extensive magical clutter and extravagance.
She wasn't sure how Professor Snape had arranged his office while occupying the room, though she surmised either he'd have wallowed in the grief of killing his former mentor and boss and hadn't changed a thing, or had operated under extreme austerity.
Hermione was curious as to how Professor McGonagall would embrace her new domicile and office.
She arrived at the landing at the top of the stone staircase and knocked on the heavy wooden door baring her from the majestic room beyond.
"Please come in Miss Granger," the Scottish brogue drifted clearly through the door.
Hermione grasped the handle, swung the door gently into the room and stepped into the office, her eyes taking everything in as she closed the door behind her.
The room was spartan yet accented with tartan and multiple pieces of gleaming wooden furniture that married whimsy with stability and evoked feelings of permanence. Magical equipment was openly housed and displayed with apparent detail toward efficiency and austerity, ultimately keeping the visual clutter to a minimum.
The portraits of previous headmasters lined the upper portion of three walls.
Her eyes went first to behind the desk, as according to 'Hogwarts a History,' this was the designated position for the newly expired Headmaster's portrait.
A changing-of-the-guard if you were, where the predecessor had a clear view over their successors shoulders and could give council or critique.
Hermione registered a blank area of wall behind the desk, years of accumulated dirt and debris outlining where a frame used to be positioned.
Hermione chuckled to herself. Apparently, Professor McGonagall was just as put out with Dumbledore as she was, or had had enough of his peacocking and machinations.
Her eyes quickly sought out and immediately registered the portrait of Professor Dumbledore, positioned midway up the wall across from the Headmistress's desk.
Hermione saw his hand move as if to wave but she swiftly turned her back on him, ignoring all the old headmasters and instead focusing on the witch in front of her.
A witch dear to her heart.
Professor McGonagall rose from behind the desk and walked toward her, holding out her hands to grasp Hermione's.
"I wondered when you'd be here to see me." She said, squeezing Hermione's hands briefly before letting go and motioning to two very uncomfortable looking armchairs beside the majestic floo.
"These are very interesting pieces," Hermione said diplomatically as the two perched themselves upon the flat wooden seats.
"They were passed down through my father's family for generations and are one of the few items I was able to retain. These two pieces are circa the mid eighteen-hundreds, if I'm not mistaken. They're bobbin-turned armchairs, and my favorite quality of them is their ability to speed along conversations."
A rare smile graced the professor's lips and Hermione chuckled.
"They do seem as if they'd be dreadfully hard to sit upon at length." She agreed, then sobered.
"What can I do for you Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked, regarding Hermione with a speculative look. "Is this about your term project, or something…else?"
"Professor, my last class of the day today was Defense against the Dark Arts and..." Hermione paused, a horrified thought crossing her mind.
'I wonder if she even knows…' she thought, knowing that most Death Eater identities weren't well known and Rowle wasn't the in the upper echelon of rank or infamy.
"I just realized… I'm sorry to be blunt Professor, but are you aware that our new Professor is a Death Eater? One I've personally encountered and dueled."
Professor McGonagall peered steadily at Hermione over the top of her glasses, her lips pursed and her eyes unblinking. The stare became uncomfortable in its length and directness, but Hermione refused to lower her gaze.
"Aye, though I wasn't aware of that particular aspect. Professor Rowle never mentioned you'd previously met. Now, Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall finally spoke. "I've been a professor here for over 37 years. Were you aware of that?"
"Yes Professor," Hermione replied, nodding.
"In those 37 years, I've taught many who unfortunately ended up joining the ranks of Tom Riddle. I have also taught those that flirted with but ultimately didn't succumb to his charm and influence."
Hermione remained silent.
"Do you not think I would be extremely thorough in my search for professors? That any background and current political inclinations and actions wouldn't be unearthed or previously known about?"
Hermione couldn't let that one go. "But our precious professors all were—"
A sound met their ears from the direction of Dumbledore's portrait and Professor McGonagall flicked her wand.
"Oh be quiet Albus!" She said, before, "I do realize, Miss Granger, that your professors in previous years—save for Remus and Severus—were neither up to snuff nor were they particularly interested in student safety—"
"That's an understatement! Rather, four tried to either kill, maim or sacrifice Harry, one was a werewolf that, though I personally liked and respected him, made the unforgivable mistake of not taking his wolfsbane and not being properly secured during a full moon in a school full of students, and the last one, though ultimately on our side, made every students life miserable except for the Slytherins. Excuse me if I don't have the ability to blindly trust." Hermione spat out in frustration, then added, "Professor."
Professor McGonagall was glaring at her in a manner Hermione hadn't ever seen.
'Sod it, we fought a war together. If I can't be honest with her after all that then...'
Professor McGonagall sighed, and appeared to deflate slightly, all frostiness melting from her gaze.
"Miss Granger, I will excuse your tone and interruption, as I can't fault you your astute and correct articulations. Trust me when I say I had strong words with Albus about each one, including those in the Order. However," she punctuated her pause with a raised eyebrow, "I can promise you, that all is above board with Professor Rowle. I am well aware of his status amongst the Death Eaters, but as you will discover, Severus wasn't the only spy or turncoat."
She chuckled as Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh yes, but I shan't spoil the plot as tis his tale to tell. It's a right good one though."
"Alright Professor," Hermione said slowly, her anxiety and distrust tempered slightly but not extinguished. "I'll keep an open mind and seek answers from the source."
"I'm sure that'll be an interesting conversation, considering how I assume your previous encounter must have gone."
Hermione twisted her hands, another concern floating from her brain to her tongue. "Professor, since I'm already here, I've also noticed something off about Professor Blishen—"
Professor McGonagall's face tightened before she cut Hermione off, saying evenly, "My apologies, Miss Granger, but that's an appointment I'm not at liberty to discuss with you. I advise you to comport yourself around her with the utmost respect," she paused, "and discretion. She is a master of transfiguration, and as such, it is a boon to Hogwarts that she decided to teach here. Especially seeing as this was the site of the pinnacle battle of a war the dust had not yet settled from."
Professor McGonagall rose, shook out her robes and swept toward her desk.
Hermione also stood, her nerves taught.
She desperately wanted to speak with Ginny.
And Theo.
Merlin, even Pansy and Draco would be a welcome perspective on things.
She missed Harry and Ron.
"I thank you for bringing your concerns directly to me, Miss Granger, as well as your candor. It truly is a pleasure having you return, and my wish for you this year is for one of normalcy and dare I say it, fun. Godric knows you're due for it!"
She turned to the side board and fiddled with a silver chest. When she faced Hermione once more, she held out a napkin with a biscuit settled between the folds.
"Take a biscuit."
Hermione was too stunned by the offering not to comply.
As she reached for the square, buttery shortbread proffered, Professor McGonagall said, her tone one of conciliatory caution, "Professor Rowle is a valuable resource, Hermione, and I urge you to seek his council should you have any more… concerns. My office is also available to you, should you find yourself in need."
With those cryptic statements veiled in subtext, along with Professor McGonagall using her given name, Hermione bid Professor McGonagall good evening and departed for the combined common room.
Her mind was whirring.
"What are you doing?" She said with a laugh, coming upon Theo lounging against the wall in the corridor as she descended the spiral stairs.
Theo was making miniature crups—folded from paper, she saw as she came closer—dance and flit around the floor in front of him by the flick of his wand.
"I became bored waiting," Theo shrugged and offered her a small grin.
Her stomach flipped.
'Oh what that grin does to me,' she thought, fixating momentarily on Theo's lips, all thought of what was discussed in the Headmistress's office receding.
"So what's the news Hermione?" Theo gently slipped Hermione's book sac from her shoulder and slung it onto his own before reaching down and lacing his fingers with hers.
"Alright?" He asked, nodding toward where their hands were joined.
She beamed. "Never better."
"The others are waiting in the common room—Draco and Pansy filled Ginny, Luna and Neville in on the situation. Apparently, they'd also had a run in with Thor… I mean, Professor Rowle and are just as apprehensive and confused. I assumed you were going to head there after your meeting and wanted to walk you there." His skin took on a rosy hue at this admission and Hermione felt herself fall a bit more.
"I'm glad you did," she said, squeezing his hand as they walked toward where their groups of friends waited.