"interconnected part 6" by gingerbred
Jan. 20th, 2023 07:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
christmasspiritLavender Brown / Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger / Severus Snape,
Background: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom / Ginny Weasley
Staff: Professor Minerva McGonagall, Professor Peek, Pomona Sprout, Rubeus Hagrid
Slytherins: Theo Nott, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode, Flora Carrow
Gryffindors: Seamus Finnigan, Parvati "'Vati" Patil
Ravenclaws: Padma Patil
Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Sheldon Shafiq, Gryffindors: Ron Weasley, Ritchie Coote, Ravenclaw: Edgar Martins
04 January, 1999. Lavender gets her books back, and one of Hermione's first discoveries as a member of staff is just how much teachers like to kvetch. Meanwhile, the new DADA Professor gets a bee in his bonnet.
Originally Published: 2023-01-20 on LJ / DW
Words: 5.6 k
Rating: Mature
Characters: Lavender Brown (8G, Prefect, no longer Ron's bit on the side (or anywhere else), she's begun seeing a certain Slytherin instead), Blaise Zabini (8S, highly intrigued by the duality of Lavender's nature), Hermione Granger (recent Hogwarts graduate and Transfiguration apprentice), Severus Snape (Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin, Potions Master, and a great deal happier of late)
Staff: Neville Longbottom (Head of Gryffindor, Herbology Apprentice), Professor Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Professor Peek (yet another DADA Professor of questionable worth), Pomona Sprout (Head of Hufflepuff, Herbology Professor), Rubeus Hagrid (Care of Magical Creatures Instructor),
Slytherins: Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker, Potter's), Theo Nott (8S, Hestia's), Gregory Goyle (8S, Beater, gentle giant), Pansy Parkinson (8S, Prefect, observant friend), Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode (8S, Reserve Beater), Flora Carrow (7S, studious but sadly guilt-ridden twin),
Gryffindors: Seamus Finnigan (8G fiery Reserve Beater, long time friend of Lavender's), Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker, Draco's), Parvati "'Vati" Patil (8G, Lavender's best friend and roommate),
Ravenclaws: Padma Patil (8R, Head Girl)
Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Sheldon Shafiq (7S, Beater, flirt), Gryffindors: Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Lavender's ex, ex-Keeper, presently seeing Demelza), Ginny Weasley (7G, Chaser, presently seeing Neville), Ritchie Coote (7G, Beater, ex-Captain), Ravenclaw: Edgar Martins (7R, Prefect)
Nearly to the Great Hall, Lav squeaks as she suddenly finds herself being tugged into the nearest alcove by some very familiar hands. It's good that they're so familiar, or she's quite certain she would have shrieked instead. For sure. That thought distracts rather neatly from any bothersome considerations as to how quickly those hands have become just that familiar. Sometimes it's nice not to question things. Then again, the last go round she hadn't questioned altogether thoroughly enough, and that had led to Ron leading her merrily up the garden path, now hadn't it? It's difficult finding a happy medium.
Aside from Professor Trelawney that is.
Well, and Professor Sapworthy, too, really.
'Vati, so strangely, continues on into the Great Hall without her. Without even looking around for her. Not that 'Vati hadn't been giving her the cold shoulder, she most certainly had, but she still tended to sneak peeks Lav's way regularly regardless. 'Vati was only marginally more subtle than Lav, really.
"Won't keep you long," Blaise practically whispers in her ear, setting the fine hairs on her neck to rising. "I need to get back before I'm missed, but I did want to return your books," he says, handing her the familiar texts. It's hard to believe they've passed through so many hands this morning. She takes them gratefully, putting them with the rest of hers, making a note to apply a Lightening Charm to render the pile less heavy. It's also hard to believe Blaise had taken her complaint about Nott's and Carrow's behavior seriously and acted on it so quickly.
That's kind of nice.
"They're sorry," he states simply. She has a feeling if they weren't he may just have seen to it for her benefit and tries not to blush. "I'd appreciate it if you'd lend them to them when you've finished, however, so they could get a chance to catch up."
In as much as they aren't even her books - she'd gotten them from the library, hadn't she? - she can hardly object to his request. But the way he's handled the matter has her going one further. She sorts through the stack and pulls out a couple of books, "Tell them to start with these two. We'll see from there." She shrugs as though it hasn't crossed her mind that she was the one to check out the books. She's responsible for them after all. She has a strong feeling Blaise will sort that for her as well. He'd brought her another bottle of Firewhisky, a better bottle of Firewhisky, after they'd drunk hers, when he hadn't needed to. She certainly hadn't asked him for it. No, she has a sense he's very correct about this sort of thing.
He gives her a grateful peck, her slight flinch that they could be seen causing him to grin. "No worries, we're Cloaked. We're always Cloaked like this," he adds, thinking of her demonstrated aversion to exhibitionism, and wanting to assuage her fears. His free hand comes up to cup her cheek and he reassures her, "I wouldn't expose you like that." His eyes are so soft and so sincere as he says it, she may just have melted a little. It's probably a good thing he doesn't know Legilimency.
"Thanks for this," he continues, hefting the books in emphasis, more necessary than he knows as she'd sort of lost the thread for a moment there. "I'll see them safely returned." It shouldn't be necessary to admonish Theo and Flora to take care with them, not those two, but as a point of honour, he'll probably strongly imply they should. He likes that Lavender seems to trust him like this.
It's a nice feeling.
He gives her another quick peck, "Must dash. Thanks again. Just wait a moment, if you would, before you follow," and hurries off ahead of her, waving his wand briefly in her direction as he reaches the doors. Presumably that was some sort of Finite for the Privacy or Disillusionment Charm or whatever it was that he'd used, because Seamus hails her almost immediately afterwards.
"Hey, Lav, didn't see you there. Where did you come from?"
"Study Hall, obviously," she giggles, as if he didn't know that perfectly well, or as if that had been what he'd meant.
Falling in beside her, he tells her about his CMC class and Hagrid's latest creature of questionable repute and safety as they walk into the Hall. It's nice, especially as the lunch that follows is kind of strange. Not for the first time, Lav thinks mean thoughts about Professor McGonagall's seating plans as Seamus leaves her to go sit at his table.
'Vati isn't speaking to her, or to Padma either for that matter. As Padma is on 'Vati's other side, that meant 'Vati spends lunch trying to lean around her sister and speaking exclusively with the other Ravenclaws at the table - apparently there was some fuss with Martins in Potions, from what Lav can gather, but it's difficult to follow without the facts and when she can only make out every third word or so. In a welcome development, Ron is absent, which she suspects is related to something that had happened in Potions, and Ritchie seems as much at sixes and sevens as she is, sort of all on his own with no one to speak to. Vaisey and Carrow, who would normally be to her right, don't seem to be putting in an appearance at all today. It's the second meal in a row they've missed. Carrow is probably off with Nott celebrating how they've managed to scam the books off her. She really is such a chump... Consequently she rather likes the idea that they hadn't the courage to face her after whatever it was Blaise had said to them.
A lot.
Grinning at the thought, she ends up opening one of the remaining texts on Glamours, putting up one Charm for its protection and a second to hold it optimally in place - there are some advantages to rooming with Hermione for six and a half years - and reads to occupy herself through lunch. It's quiet enough that she makes some headway for a while.
Great Hall
For the most part Padma spends the meal talking with her housemates. She does that from time to time, sure, and today seems an especially good day for it as her sister is atypically quiet. She's probably anticipating their parents' reaction to her not becoming the Gryffindor Prefect. Again. It was one thing to lose to Hermione, they both had, but Lavender? That was going to be a difficult sell. Perhaps 'Vati can convince their parents the Headmistress had made the choice out of pity, what with the werewolf's attack and all... Padma's face scrunches just thinking about it, both the attack and their parents' response. Frankly she isn't sure which should be uglier when all is said and done.
The seventh years begin needling the newly minted Head Girl that most at the school seem completely unaware she'd been promoted - clearly Padma will need to speak to Professor McGonagall about this - which she believes corresponds neatly with what she'd observed of Professor Snape's response in Potions. He didn't seem to know or, worse, care once he found out. She may be misinterpreting his reaction completely, but then he'd fooled Voldemort for years at close quarters, an eighth year Ravenclaw shouldn't present much difficulty.
The boys are having rather too much fun teasing her, and it's beginning to get under her skin, as more than one Slytherin at the table doesn't neglect to note. Snape's class now called to mind, she firmly turns the talk to their Potions class, first Edgar and his Carnivorous Calendula escapades - she hasn't any idea how Carol puts up with him - and as yet blissfully unaware that her sister is struggling to ignore her, finally recounts the story of Ron and his miserable Mender base.
Try as she might, 'Vati can't help having her interest piqued.
It both explains Ron's absence, a fact that had assuaged some of her residual guilt for ignoring Lav, and has the added bonus of retelling how Blaise, in the specific, seems to have left him looking rather an idiot. Lav should love that - most likely more so without the evidently obligatory 'manwhore' complaints - or would do, if only someone would relent and tell her about it, more's the pity.
Great Hall
On entering the Great Hall, Blaise makes a beeline to where Theo and Flora are seated and places the two texts between them. "Here. Brown's willing to let you get started now instead of waiting, just take care of them, would you?" He gives Theo a significant look - and yes, there's something warning to it - and Flora nearly laughs. As if Theo had ever harmed a book in his life. The boy in question just sits there blinking like a startled owl, and Blaise almost feels sorry he'd said anything.
Almost.
Automatically, Theo twitches his wand and promises to look after them, the tip of his wand glowing briefly golden and the gesture routine. Flora follows suit silently. She could have promised anything when it comes down to it, but it's largely pro forma anyway. The House takes responsibility seriously. No one can recall when they last had a problem with their Oaths. None of them spares the exchange a thought.
"How'd you talk her into that?" Flora asks, curious why they're getting the books back after they'd just had to give them up. Blaise had been clear, Brown had given him an earful before Charms. Flora is grateful he's swung this, absolutely, but she wouldn't have studied them during Potions if she'd known she'd be able to read them later. Really it bordered on a wonder Professor Snape had let them get away with something like that. She's quite certain he'd known what they were doing... It was highly unlikely he hadn't clocked their behaviour.
"I spoke to her. Works wonders," Blaise smarms. Pansy smirks. Although it probably helped that Brown seemed partial, she has no doubt he'd put the Zabini Charm to use. He's very nearly as bad as Sheldon, presently working on the Hufflepuff once more. "You should try communicating your need and asking nicely."
"You didn't tell her..." All the colour drains from Flora's face. It's silly, in as much as Brown was in much the same boat as Hestia and Val, of course, but the stigma involved for the survivors of the Lycanthrope attacks meant that was a deeply ingrained response.
"Of course not," he gently squeezes Flora's shoulder in reassurance and she relaxes visibly, although it will still take some time for her colour to return. Turning to Pansy, with a nod at the empty chair across the table, he adds, "Get them to tell you about the Weasel's performance in Potions," before he swans off to his table with a casual wave over his shoulder.
She's the only one of the four Slytherins at their table who isn't in N.E.W.T.s Potions, so he's just handed them something to talk about, which was considerate. That's part of why Pansy likes Blaise - aside from all of his other excellent qualities, naturally. He knows exactly how she feels sat here, and he's trying to build bridges for them. Presently she's more than passing cross. Out of the kindness of her heart, she'd swapped seats from a much better table early last term so that Hestia could sit with Theo, the thankless nit. At the moment the ingrate in question is seated to her left, having swapped with Val so he could work on something or another with Flora. Pansy certainly hadn't needed to give up her seat for this. And Sheldon, the incorrigible rake, seems to have made a long term project out of the Hufflepuff beside him. Beyond the annoyance of essentially being ignored herself, nontrivial to be sure, for the life of her Pansy can't figure out what's taking him so long to win the 'Puff round. If even he's having no joy, their status as a House must be truly rotten.
Pansy's mood soon worsens when Theo puts up his Notice-Me-Nott, and he and Flora effectively disappear to get some work done. Not that Pansy can see them doing so, that's easily half the point of Theo's Charm, but she definitely registers that she's left to entertain herself once yet again. Quietly stewing, she spends a good deal of lunch endeavouring to do so with a book patently inadequate to the task - she hates this table very nearly as much as she hates McGonagall's seating plan rules - before she finally quits in annoyance and demands that Sheldon fill her in on why Weasley still hasn't made an appearance.
If she thought mentioning him might bother the new Moggie Prefect a few seats over who has now deigned to join them, she miscalculated. Brown has difficulty not laughing at Sheldon's story, but then he's really rather good at that sort of thing, and elaborates in glorious detail all about how Blaise had left Weasley looking like a fool.
A fool with a horrible rash that is.
No, Pansy could swear Brown is smiling behind her book.
She takes a peek at its title. Glamours, of course. How typically shallow.
Great Hall - Head Table
"How was your first morning of teaching?" Severus asks, covertly running one of his exquisitely long fingers along the naked skin above Hermione's wrist as she passes him the salt at his request. Something in his eyes assures her he'll snog her senseless just as soon as their back at his - they're quite agreed this would be neither the time nor the place for it - but then her mood isn't precisely suited to it at the moment either.
"Holy cricket! Were we always such idiots?" She asks, voiced pitched low. Neville, seated to her left, snorts his pumpkin juice, triggering a coughing fit that then promptly sprays it across the table. Severus' wandless Protego covers the trays arrayed in front of him - yet another skill for which he can presumably thank the Death Eaters, where would he have been without them? - and Pomona makes tsking noises as she hands her still hacking apprentice a quickly conjured napkin. If Longbottom isn't careful, she'll soon begin clapping him on the back; as much as he's grown the last several years, Severus suspects it probably still isn't enough to stand his ground against that threat. Finally getting his coughs under control, Neville dabs at his face while staring studiously ahead and doing his level best to pretend he hadn't overheard Hermione's conversation, but the witch in question continues unperturbed.
"You can hardly call it teaching anyway..."
"'ermione!" Hagrid objects, scandalised. There's something nice about still being able to shock him after all these years, nevertheless the half-Giant clearly has the wrong end of the wand.
"No, I meant as an apprentice, the first day on the job, you can't really call what I did 'teaching'." Although privately, with the way some of the students had responded, she isn't sure they'd have learnt much even if she had. "I collected assignments, adjusted a few wand movements..."
"Well that's teaching!" Hagrid seems satisfied and returns to his lunch with gusto. Hermione merely bites her tongue knowing how much their views on the subject differ. There were valid reasons - plenty of them - she hadn't continued his class past receiving her O.W.L. Hagrid is such a dear, but a natural teacher he is not.
Of course many might say the same of her...
Severus sympathises. Does he ever. With a little bit of effort, though, he's able to make her laugh as he rather vividly describes the cauldron rests presently still dripping from his classroom's ceiling. "If it weren't for my Protego..."
"Why on earth don't they cast some of their own?" She demands, echoing his thoughts from earlier closely enough he could kiss her. "They shouldn't need to resort to yours." Which of course is the perfect lead in to the story of Martins and the Carnivorous Calendula, and once she overcomes a touch of envy as she'd never worked with it or brewed that particular Salve base, she agrees completely that the students truly are some of the most foolish people she's ever met, and she can still say that in all honesty despite spending much of the last summer having to deal with the Ministry and Wisengamot. "Not a one cast a Protego. Not one." Including, obviously, several individuals from his own House, although he suspects the issue might have been an unwillingness to help the Ravenclaws, particularly in light of Patil's theft of the Head Girl position.
"I don't think Peek's had them practising at all," Hermione glares at the new DADA instructor seated further down the table. Severus silently approves of her reaction, though he avoids commenting in public. One never knows who's listening, and a little caution rarely goes amiss. Too right. Although she isn't eager to draw attention to the fact she was still a student mere weeks ago, no matter her age, she could confirm Peek hadn't had them do anything practical even once. She'd done all the practising for her N.E.W.T.s either on her own or with friends. Fortunately Neville has no such qualms about directing attention towards his relationship with Ginny. Hermione's just wondering if she should say something about Peek's class when Neville chimes in.
"From what Ginny's said, I'd believe it. There's no duelling at all. No practical. She really misses the DA."
In light of that, Severus supposes it's probably little wonder that his students seem ill equipped to employ the most obvious of Spells when need arises. It should also make for some more unfortunate N.E.W.T.s results. Between that and the changes Minerva had made to his curriculum, that's two of the seven core courses where they can expect less than stellar results. Considering it, he begins to wonder if they need to worry about her position as well as his.
Pomona turns the conversation to asking after the punishments Severus had meted out for the hijinks he'd recounted. Neville is still trying to find a good balance with disciplining people who had only recently been his Housemates - Hermione, unsurprisingly, has far fewer qualms - and Pomona sees her mentorship as not strictly limited to Herbology, which is probably just as well seeing as Minerva has been so busy lately. They find coordinating their efforts helps both Neville get a better handle on things and the rest to achieve a measure of consistency throughout the programme. It's interesting to note that although Severus rarely takes more points or awards more detentions for offences - quite the opposite, as he simply hasn't the time - the frequency with which the need arises and the sternness of tone have led to a consensus amongst the students that he's far harsher. It works for him, so he won't complain. Presently and rather ironically the Head of Hufflepuff leads in points deducted for minor infractions, but as she's quick to point out, her greenhouses are very likely only slightly less dangerous than Severus' cauldrons. Students who fail to pay proper attention can and will get hurt, and she means to keep the tomfoolery to a minimum.
"Martins earned a twenty point loss for his House," Severus replies, and Pomona shakes her head vigorously in agreement.
"For mishandling the Carnivorous Calendula? I'd have probably taken twenty-five." She does so hate it when their charges don't treat their botanicals with the necessary respect.
Severus is left feeling he apparently should have taken ten more. He still wanted his frustration at Patil's promotion suitably felt.
"And your ceiling?" Neville prompts, genuinely curious.
Severus continues, "I'm having the students responsible..."
"Responsible! Now there's a word for you! Students!" Pomona laughs, a little unfairly Hagrid feels, but then they've established he's the softest touch of all.
"...Come by after classes in the vague hope I might be finished at a reasonable hour. In light of their competence, far from a given..."
The others join in commiserating - teaching wouldn't be half as bad if it weren't for the students (the remaining half of the problems seem split evenly between administration and parents, all agree) - as Hermione sits there smiling to herself. They're good people and good company, Severus most of all. In addition to making her feel better, such a dear, the Slytherin Head - quite possibly the most private person she knows - has just informed her he'll be home late, in front of all assembled, and not a one had taken his meaning. He can be very subtle this wizard of hers, and she enjoys him immensely.
It's a bit of a struggle not to keep shooting him affectionate looks.
Great Hall - Head Table
While others have strained to hear what's said about them, Minerva has spent the lion's share of lunch pretending she isn't the one the others mean when they complain about 'admin', and to be fair, for the most part they're referring to the Board of Governors. Heavens know, she's complained about them on many an occasion as Filius can attest. With Severus, however, she's less sure. He obviously hadn't appreciated her latest changes to his curriculum when they'd met yesterday, despite accepting them with little more than a deeply furrowed frown of complaint. He seems to fail to recognise how important these are to rehabilitating his reputation with the Board and the Wizarding World as a whole.
At the meal's conclusion she rises to return to her office, checked by the sound of Miss Patil, Miss Padma Patil, calling out to her to request a moment of her time. Well she'll squeeze it in just like everything else.
Divination - after lunch
Lavender's feelings with regard to a certain Slytherin are improved, greatly, and while that's probably better for her stomach and digestion, there's that, it leaves the unfortunate fact that the Gryffindor isn't the least bit subtle by nature. Realistically they were probably better off when she was angry at him, and Blaise finds himself expending an effort to ignore her more furiously than before, something that clearly has upper limits, is now in its own way as blatant as the Moggie's interest and naturally doesn't fail to register with Pansy, because how could it not? Fortunately Weasel isn't in the class, not that he was likely to have appeared today either way, and Blaise thinks no one else was inclined to pay Lavender's behaviour much attention save Patil who seems annoyed with her anyway and ironically is struggling a good deal more visibly than he is to ignore her.
Patil's really comically bad at this. She keeps making some discovery in the Introduction to Twigs chapter and turns to tell Lavender only to remember she's supposed to be angry or something and then turn away, visibly disappointed. Sod's law dictates the degree of frequency of such moments only increases the more you're trying to avoid someone.
As for Weasel, Blaise isn't sure how much his presence really matters, although they'll undoubtably find out soon enough. But his ego doesn't really allow for thinking there's something going on, does it? He'll... twig to their relationship fairly late in the scheme of things, Blaise is sure.
That's probably not nearly as true for certain members of his House, though. Even Trelawney could see that.
DADA classroom
Professor Peek, every bit as much a Ministry idiot in his own right as Umbridge ever was, greets them at the door to his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, an odd expression lighting his face when he spots Harry. He's much older than Professor Snape, but most likely younger than Sprout and Flitwick, in size somewhere between those two as well. He's a balding man with greying hair - what's left of it, anyway - and a fondness for inordinately ornate vests that only seem to highlight the size of his paunch as it protrudes over his spindly legs. His collection of pince-nezes seems to rival his assortment of vests, and yet generally contrast in colour for no reason they've been able to ascertain. The explantation currently most popular is that there's some odd underlying tenet of colour theory in play here with which none of them happen to be familiar - as yet - although it's sent more than one student to library to fruitlessly research. The contrast is so marked and so consistent, they just can't believe it's chance. He's proven every bit as arrogant as Lockhart and only moderately more competent, or at least they think he is, but he hasn't given them much evidence to work with. Of course that in itself was very likely a sign of more competence than Lockhart. He'd been a never ending fount of foolishness.
They probably have the Board to thank for Peek's appointment, as those who know him can't imagine Kingsley would be responsible for this bit of 'peek' idiocy, but either way, here they are. That Severus had taken this as the ultimate slap in the face that he should remain stuck teaching Potions to the wilfully ignorant while this imbecile continues to assure the student body never learns a single useful thing about Defense if at all humanly - or magically - possible should go without saying. One would think the students' lack of education in the matter, as thorough as it's been, must surely be by design. That it flies so flagrantly in the face of everything the last several years had demonstrated only too clearly yet again... Unsurprisingly Severus avoids Peek whenever possible.
It's probably just as well.
An appraising and decidedly unpleasant look musters Draco as he takes his seat. It's blatant enough that not only the Slytherins notice, although, by and large, they're the only ones who care. It puts them enough out of sorts that none of them spare a thought for Weasley when he reappears, or Madam Pomfrey's considerable talents that he's able to do so in the first place. Lavender, for her part, simply assumes Shafiq had the extent of Ron's rash all wrong with a near visceral twinge of disappointment.
There are a few oblique, and then not so oblique comments as Peek starts the lesson that soon have the Snakes suspecting what's going on here. Peek hadn't been there over the hols, he's apparently only recently learnt of Draco's relationship with Potter, and something or another about it doesn't quite sit well with him, as if he should have a say. And that right there would be one of his many failings.
The double lesson has barely started, nothing, as usual, has actually been taught, and already Peek begins making noises, suspiciously mean, that perhaps Mr. Potter would care to demonstrate the particularly nasty Hex they're not precisely learning this chapter on Draco of all classmates. If his colleagues seem to feel he isn't doing enough, he's perfectly capable of change, and no better time than the present...
Even if they were actually learning to perform much of anything, it seems more than a little strange that the focus should fall on the Hex itself, and not on an appropriate Counter, and quite naturally none whatsoever has been presented. Whatever for? Not that the students question the idiocy of the course much anymore, but it does seem sort of a given in light of the name of the class, "Defense" and all that...
Theo's Notice-Me-Nott and Draco's House Privacy Spell give them time to confer, providing them with the opportunity to prove they're wholly unagreed as to Peek's motivations...
Millie is sure Peek can't abide the thought of a Slytherin with a Gryffindor, as if it were that simple, or four years ago, bless her heart. In as much as the man was a Ravenclaw, the others are far less sure that's the problem. Gregory rather apologetically suggests Peek takes issue with their homosexuality, and most agree that's a component of whatever is going on - Draco's certainly caught an earful on that count today - but it won't be solved by anything they do shy of having the man removed, obviously, but given they've spent much of last term contemplating how to go about just that, and the man is still there, that promises to be another fruitless avenue of pursuit. Blaise rather flatly states it's the fact Draco took the Dark Mark. It's not pleasant to say and even less pleasant to hear, but hiding from the facts won't get them anywhere. Pansy disagrees, thinking the whole 'sullying of their saviour' was more of the issue, and while she's doubtless right about how many will respond, that's not the case here. This man doesn't give a whit about causing Potter discomfort. Draco just shakes his head in recognition of that fact.
"He doesn't care about that, he just doesn't think I deserve a happy end," Draco's hand absently rubs the spot where the Dark Mark is located underneath his uniform's sleeve, "and he'll take it out on anyone likely to provide it."
"The 'why' doesn't really matter, does it?" Theo asks, pragmatic as ever. "The real question is what do you want to do about it?" He looks at Draco, trying to convey his support. It was mostly a question of dumb luck that he'd fared so much better both during and in the aftermath of the War than his friend. His father had been no less avid a supporter of the Dark... Voldemort than Draco's.
Draco doesn't reply, frankly he still isn't used to his opinion mattering anymore, so Blaise prods him, gently though; they all know how rough the last couple of years have been. "Do you want to fight Potter? Harry?" Somehow the 'Harry' helps.
Draco sighs, hangs his head for a moment in resignation and then meets Blaise's eyes before answering honestly, "I'd really rather not." He and Harry still have far too many things to work through, he hadn't coached him on how to best behave at Sunday night's feast, which had been a mistake, and this wasn't on his map at all. Bugger. It was just patently cruel. How odd it hadn't occurred to him as likely then... He snorts at the thought. The time with Harry is making him soft. And with the Trace on his wand? How long before the Aurors appear? There's simply no way they duel each other and it doesn't lead to a whole slew of other problems, and most likely headlines of the absolute worst kind with his sort of luck. "I'd really rather not," he repeats, willing to leave this in his friends' hands, and looking at them imploringly.
"You can do a Suggestibility Charm without a wand," Theo makes a suggestion of his own. Draco's the only one who can, in fact.
"Going that far borders on a full blown Memory Charm. I doubt that's a good idea, especially with half the class now drooling to see Harry and I have a go at each other," Draco shakes his head as he surveys the room, trying to gauge the atmosphere. No, that will end badly. Very.
Blaise smirks, "So don't re-write, just... re-align. Re-direct. He wants to see a Gryffindor fight a Slytherin? Let him. Substitute the Weasel." A look of concern flashes over Draco's face at the thought, he's not sure his duelling with Weasley will be all that much better, and Harry, being the person he is, was far more likely to hold it against him than if they'd duelled themselves.
Blaise registers Draco's expression and smirks even more broadly, "In fact, I'll be happy to deflect Peek's interest, just have Weasel duel me. Merlin, you'd practically be doing me a favour." In as much as Weasel isn't on the Gryffindor Quidditch team anymore, they're no longer rival Keepers, and the match with Gryffindor is well behind them, the only one inclined to actually take him at his word on that is Pansy, who gives Blaise an appraising look. The rest, however, think his suggestion rather kind, and with their encouragement, Draco soon finds himself dropping the Privacy Charm and whispering a few words of Influence. The Spell is along the lines of a lesser Confundus, yet another thing Draco can thank his demented Aunt for, and further proof, as far as they're concerned, that this idiot Peek is wholly unequipped to teach them at all. How could he, when he can't even keep himself safe?
And just like that, the next thing anyone knows, Weasley and Blaise are squaring off against one another at the front of the class, and Lavender finds herself holding her breath.
Background: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom / Ginny Weasley
Staff: Professor Minerva McGonagall, Professor Peek, Pomona Sprout, Rubeus Hagrid
Slytherins: Theo Nott, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode, Flora Carrow
Gryffindors: Seamus Finnigan, Parvati "'Vati" Patil
Ravenclaws: Padma Patil
Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Sheldon Shafiq, Gryffindors: Ron Weasley, Ritchie Coote, Ravenclaw: Edgar Martins
04 January, 1999. Lavender gets her books back, and one of Hermione's first discoveries as a member of staff is just how much teachers like to kvetch. Meanwhile, the new DADA Professor gets a bee in his bonnet.
Originally Published: 2023-01-20 on LJ / DW
Words: 5.6 k
Rating: Mature
Characters: Lavender Brown (8G, Prefect, no longer Ron's bit on the side (or anywhere else), she's begun seeing a certain Slytherin instead), Blaise Zabini (8S, highly intrigued by the duality of Lavender's nature), Hermione Granger (recent Hogwarts graduate and Transfiguration apprentice), Severus Snape (Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin, Potions Master, and a great deal happier of late)
Staff: Neville Longbottom (Head of Gryffindor, Herbology Apprentice), Professor Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Professor Peek (yet another DADA Professor of questionable worth), Pomona Sprout (Head of Hufflepuff, Herbology Professor), Rubeus Hagrid (Care of Magical Creatures Instructor),
Slytherins: Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker, Potter's), Theo Nott (8S, Hestia's), Gregory Goyle (8S, Beater, gentle giant), Pansy Parkinson (8S, Prefect, observant friend), Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode (8S, Reserve Beater), Flora Carrow (7S, studious but sadly guilt-ridden twin),
Gryffindors: Seamus Finnigan (8G fiery Reserve Beater, long time friend of Lavender's), Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker, Draco's), Parvati "'Vati" Patil (8G, Lavender's best friend and roommate),
Ravenclaws: Padma Patil (8R, Head Girl)
Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Sheldon Shafiq (7S, Beater, flirt), Gryffindors: Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Lavender's ex, ex-Keeper, presently seeing Demelza), Ginny Weasley (7G, Chaser, presently seeing Neville), Ritchie Coote (7G, Beater, ex-Captain), Ravenclaw: Edgar Martins (7R, Prefect)
Monday, 04 January, 1999 - the beginning of the second term
Outside the Great Hall. Lunch.Nearly to the Great Hall, Lav squeaks as she suddenly finds herself being tugged into the nearest alcove by some very familiar hands. It's good that they're so familiar, or she's quite certain she would have shrieked instead. For sure. That thought distracts rather neatly from any bothersome considerations as to how quickly those hands have become just that familiar. Sometimes it's nice not to question things. Then again, the last go round she hadn't questioned altogether thoroughly enough, and that had led to Ron leading her merrily up the garden path, now hadn't it? It's difficult finding a happy medium.
Aside from Professor Trelawney that is.
Well, and Professor Sapworthy, too, really.
'Vati, so strangely, continues on into the Great Hall without her. Without even looking around for her. Not that 'Vati hadn't been giving her the cold shoulder, she most certainly had, but she still tended to sneak peeks Lav's way regularly regardless. 'Vati was only marginally more subtle than Lav, really.
"Won't keep you long," Blaise practically whispers in her ear, setting the fine hairs on her neck to rising. "I need to get back before I'm missed, but I did want to return your books," he says, handing her the familiar texts. It's hard to believe they've passed through so many hands this morning. She takes them gratefully, putting them with the rest of hers, making a note to apply a Lightening Charm to render the pile less heavy. It's also hard to believe Blaise had taken her complaint about Nott's and Carrow's behavior seriously and acted on it so quickly.
That's kind of nice.
"They're sorry," he states simply. She has a feeling if they weren't he may just have seen to it for her benefit and tries not to blush. "I'd appreciate it if you'd lend them to them when you've finished, however, so they could get a chance to catch up."
In as much as they aren't even her books - she'd gotten them from the library, hadn't she? - she can hardly object to his request. But the way he's handled the matter has her going one further. She sorts through the stack and pulls out a couple of books, "Tell them to start with these two. We'll see from there." She shrugs as though it hasn't crossed her mind that she was the one to check out the books. She's responsible for them after all. She has a strong feeling Blaise will sort that for her as well. He'd brought her another bottle of Firewhisky, a better bottle of Firewhisky, after they'd drunk hers, when he hadn't needed to. She certainly hadn't asked him for it. No, she has a sense he's very correct about this sort of thing.
He gives her a grateful peck, her slight flinch that they could be seen causing him to grin. "No worries, we're Cloaked. We're always Cloaked like this," he adds, thinking of her demonstrated aversion to exhibitionism, and wanting to assuage her fears. His free hand comes up to cup her cheek and he reassures her, "I wouldn't expose you like that." His eyes are so soft and so sincere as he says it, she may just have melted a little. It's probably a good thing he doesn't know Legilimency.
"Thanks for this," he continues, hefting the books in emphasis, more necessary than he knows as she'd sort of lost the thread for a moment there. "I'll see them safely returned." It shouldn't be necessary to admonish Theo and Flora to take care with them, not those two, but as a point of honour, he'll probably strongly imply they should. He likes that Lavender seems to trust him like this.
It's a nice feeling.
He gives her another quick peck, "Must dash. Thanks again. Just wait a moment, if you would, before you follow," and hurries off ahead of her, waving his wand briefly in her direction as he reaches the doors. Presumably that was some sort of Finite for the Privacy or Disillusionment Charm or whatever it was that he'd used, because Seamus hails her almost immediately afterwards.
"Hey, Lav, didn't see you there. Where did you come from?"
"Study Hall, obviously," she giggles, as if he didn't know that perfectly well, or as if that had been what he'd meant.
Falling in beside her, he tells her about his CMC class and Hagrid's latest creature of questionable repute and safety as they walk into the Hall. It's nice, especially as the lunch that follows is kind of strange. Not for the first time, Lav thinks mean thoughts about Professor McGonagall's seating plans as Seamus leaves her to go sit at his table.
'Vati isn't speaking to her, or to Padma either for that matter. As Padma is on 'Vati's other side, that meant 'Vati spends lunch trying to lean around her sister and speaking exclusively with the other Ravenclaws at the table - apparently there was some fuss with Martins in Potions, from what Lav can gather, but it's difficult to follow without the facts and when she can only make out every third word or so. In a welcome development, Ron is absent, which she suspects is related to something that had happened in Potions, and Ritchie seems as much at sixes and sevens as she is, sort of all on his own with no one to speak to. Vaisey and Carrow, who would normally be to her right, don't seem to be putting in an appearance at all today. It's the second meal in a row they've missed. Carrow is probably off with Nott celebrating how they've managed to scam the books off her. She really is such a chump... Consequently she rather likes the idea that they hadn't the courage to face her after whatever it was Blaise had said to them.
A lot.
Grinning at the thought, she ends up opening one of the remaining texts on Glamours, putting up one Charm for its protection and a second to hold it optimally in place - there are some advantages to rooming with Hermione for six and a half years - and reads to occupy herself through lunch. It's quiet enough that she makes some headway for a while.
Great Hall
For the most part Padma spends the meal talking with her housemates. She does that from time to time, sure, and today seems an especially good day for it as her sister is atypically quiet. She's probably anticipating their parents' reaction to her not becoming the Gryffindor Prefect. Again. It was one thing to lose to Hermione, they both had, but Lavender? That was going to be a difficult sell. Perhaps 'Vati can convince their parents the Headmistress had made the choice out of pity, what with the werewolf's attack and all... Padma's face scrunches just thinking about it, both the attack and their parents' response. Frankly she isn't sure which should be uglier when all is said and done.
The seventh years begin needling the newly minted Head Girl that most at the school seem completely unaware she'd been promoted - clearly Padma will need to speak to Professor McGonagall about this - which she believes corresponds neatly with what she'd observed of Professor Snape's response in Potions. He didn't seem to know or, worse, care once he found out. She may be misinterpreting his reaction completely, but then he'd fooled Voldemort for years at close quarters, an eighth year Ravenclaw shouldn't present much difficulty.
The boys are having rather too much fun teasing her, and it's beginning to get under her skin, as more than one Slytherin at the table doesn't neglect to note. Snape's class now called to mind, she firmly turns the talk to their Potions class, first Edgar and his Carnivorous Calendula escapades - she hasn't any idea how Carol puts up with him - and as yet blissfully unaware that her sister is struggling to ignore her, finally recounts the story of Ron and his miserable Mender base.
Try as she might, 'Vati can't help having her interest piqued.
It both explains Ron's absence, a fact that had assuaged some of her residual guilt for ignoring Lav, and has the added bonus of retelling how Blaise, in the specific, seems to have left him looking rather an idiot. Lav should love that - most likely more so without the evidently obligatory 'manwhore' complaints - or would do, if only someone would relent and tell her about it, more's the pity.
Great Hall
On entering the Great Hall, Blaise makes a beeline to where Theo and Flora are seated and places the two texts between them. "Here. Brown's willing to let you get started now instead of waiting, just take care of them, would you?" He gives Theo a significant look - and yes, there's something warning to it - and Flora nearly laughs. As if Theo had ever harmed a book in his life. The boy in question just sits there blinking like a startled owl, and Blaise almost feels sorry he'd said anything.
Almost.
Automatically, Theo twitches his wand and promises to look after them, the tip of his wand glowing briefly golden and the gesture routine. Flora follows suit silently. She could have promised anything when it comes down to it, but it's largely pro forma anyway. The House takes responsibility seriously. No one can recall when they last had a problem with their Oaths. None of them spares the exchange a thought.
"How'd you talk her into that?" Flora asks, curious why they're getting the books back after they'd just had to give them up. Blaise had been clear, Brown had given him an earful before Charms. Flora is grateful he's swung this, absolutely, but she wouldn't have studied them during Potions if she'd known she'd be able to read them later. Really it bordered on a wonder Professor Snape had let them get away with something like that. She's quite certain he'd known what they were doing... It was highly unlikely he hadn't clocked their behaviour.
"I spoke to her. Works wonders," Blaise smarms. Pansy smirks. Although it probably helped that Brown seemed partial, she has no doubt he'd put the Zabini Charm to use. He's very nearly as bad as Sheldon, presently working on the Hufflepuff once more. "You should try communicating your need and asking nicely."
"You didn't tell her..." All the colour drains from Flora's face. It's silly, in as much as Brown was in much the same boat as Hestia and Val, of course, but the stigma involved for the survivors of the Lycanthrope attacks meant that was a deeply ingrained response.
"Of course not," he gently squeezes Flora's shoulder in reassurance and she relaxes visibly, although it will still take some time for her colour to return. Turning to Pansy, with a nod at the empty chair across the table, he adds, "Get them to tell you about the Weasel's performance in Potions," before he swans off to his table with a casual wave over his shoulder.
She's the only one of the four Slytherins at their table who isn't in N.E.W.T.s Potions, so he's just handed them something to talk about, which was considerate. That's part of why Pansy likes Blaise - aside from all of his other excellent qualities, naturally. He knows exactly how she feels sat here, and he's trying to build bridges for them. Presently she's more than passing cross. Out of the kindness of her heart, she'd swapped seats from a much better table early last term so that Hestia could sit with Theo, the thankless nit. At the moment the ingrate in question is seated to her left, having swapped with Val so he could work on something or another with Flora. Pansy certainly hadn't needed to give up her seat for this. And Sheldon, the incorrigible rake, seems to have made a long term project out of the Hufflepuff beside him. Beyond the annoyance of essentially being ignored herself, nontrivial to be sure, for the life of her Pansy can't figure out what's taking him so long to win the 'Puff round. If even he's having no joy, their status as a House must be truly rotten.
Pansy's mood soon worsens when Theo puts up his Notice-Me-Nott, and he and Flora effectively disappear to get some work done. Not that Pansy can see them doing so, that's easily half the point of Theo's Charm, but she definitely registers that she's left to entertain herself once yet again. Quietly stewing, she spends a good deal of lunch endeavouring to do so with a book patently inadequate to the task - she hates this table very nearly as much as she hates McGonagall's seating plan rules - before she finally quits in annoyance and demands that Sheldon fill her in on why Weasley still hasn't made an appearance.
If she thought mentioning him might bother the new Moggie Prefect a few seats over who has now deigned to join them, she miscalculated. Brown has difficulty not laughing at Sheldon's story, but then he's really rather good at that sort of thing, and elaborates in glorious detail all about how Blaise had left Weasley looking like a fool.
A fool with a horrible rash that is.
No, Pansy could swear Brown is smiling behind her book.
She takes a peek at its title. Glamours, of course. How typically shallow.
Great Hall - Head Table
"How was your first morning of teaching?" Severus asks, covertly running one of his exquisitely long fingers along the naked skin above Hermione's wrist as she passes him the salt at his request. Something in his eyes assures her he'll snog her senseless just as soon as their back at his - they're quite agreed this would be neither the time nor the place for it - but then her mood isn't precisely suited to it at the moment either.
"Holy cricket! Were we always such idiots?" She asks, voiced pitched low. Neville, seated to her left, snorts his pumpkin juice, triggering a coughing fit that then promptly sprays it across the table. Severus' wandless Protego covers the trays arrayed in front of him - yet another skill for which he can presumably thank the Death Eaters, where would he have been without them? - and Pomona makes tsking noises as she hands her still hacking apprentice a quickly conjured napkin. If Longbottom isn't careful, she'll soon begin clapping him on the back; as much as he's grown the last several years, Severus suspects it probably still isn't enough to stand his ground against that threat. Finally getting his coughs under control, Neville dabs at his face while staring studiously ahead and doing his level best to pretend he hadn't overheard Hermione's conversation, but the witch in question continues unperturbed.
"You can hardly call it teaching anyway..."
"'ermione!" Hagrid objects, scandalised. There's something nice about still being able to shock him after all these years, nevertheless the half-Giant clearly has the wrong end of the wand.
"No, I meant as an apprentice, the first day on the job, you can't really call what I did 'teaching'." Although privately, with the way some of the students had responded, she isn't sure they'd have learnt much even if she had. "I collected assignments, adjusted a few wand movements..."
"Well that's teaching!" Hagrid seems satisfied and returns to his lunch with gusto. Hermione merely bites her tongue knowing how much their views on the subject differ. There were valid reasons - plenty of them - she hadn't continued his class past receiving her O.W.L. Hagrid is such a dear, but a natural teacher he is not.
Of course many might say the same of her...
Severus sympathises. Does he ever. With a little bit of effort, though, he's able to make her laugh as he rather vividly describes the cauldron rests presently still dripping from his classroom's ceiling. "If it weren't for my Protego..."
"Why on earth don't they cast some of their own?" She demands, echoing his thoughts from earlier closely enough he could kiss her. "They shouldn't need to resort to yours." Which of course is the perfect lead in to the story of Martins and the Carnivorous Calendula, and once she overcomes a touch of envy as she'd never worked with it or brewed that particular Salve base, she agrees completely that the students truly are some of the most foolish people she's ever met, and she can still say that in all honesty despite spending much of the last summer having to deal with the Ministry and Wisengamot. "Not a one cast a Protego. Not one." Including, obviously, several individuals from his own House, although he suspects the issue might have been an unwillingness to help the Ravenclaws, particularly in light of Patil's theft of the Head Girl position.
"I don't think Peek's had them practising at all," Hermione glares at the new DADA instructor seated further down the table. Severus silently approves of her reaction, though he avoids commenting in public. One never knows who's listening, and a little caution rarely goes amiss. Too right. Although she isn't eager to draw attention to the fact she was still a student mere weeks ago, no matter her age, she could confirm Peek hadn't had them do anything practical even once. She'd done all the practising for her N.E.W.T.s either on her own or with friends. Fortunately Neville has no such qualms about directing attention towards his relationship with Ginny. Hermione's just wondering if she should say something about Peek's class when Neville chimes in.
"From what Ginny's said, I'd believe it. There's no duelling at all. No practical. She really misses the DA."
In light of that, Severus supposes it's probably little wonder that his students seem ill equipped to employ the most obvious of Spells when need arises. It should also make for some more unfortunate N.E.W.T.s results. Between that and the changes Minerva had made to his curriculum, that's two of the seven core courses where they can expect less than stellar results. Considering it, he begins to wonder if they need to worry about her position as well as his.
Pomona turns the conversation to asking after the punishments Severus had meted out for the hijinks he'd recounted. Neville is still trying to find a good balance with disciplining people who had only recently been his Housemates - Hermione, unsurprisingly, has far fewer qualms - and Pomona sees her mentorship as not strictly limited to Herbology, which is probably just as well seeing as Minerva has been so busy lately. They find coordinating their efforts helps both Neville get a better handle on things and the rest to achieve a measure of consistency throughout the programme. It's interesting to note that although Severus rarely takes more points or awards more detentions for offences - quite the opposite, as he simply hasn't the time - the frequency with which the need arises and the sternness of tone have led to a consensus amongst the students that he's far harsher. It works for him, so he won't complain. Presently and rather ironically the Head of Hufflepuff leads in points deducted for minor infractions, but as she's quick to point out, her greenhouses are very likely only slightly less dangerous than Severus' cauldrons. Students who fail to pay proper attention can and will get hurt, and she means to keep the tomfoolery to a minimum.
"Martins earned a twenty point loss for his House," Severus replies, and Pomona shakes her head vigorously in agreement.
"For mishandling the Carnivorous Calendula? I'd have probably taken twenty-five." She does so hate it when their charges don't treat their botanicals with the necessary respect.
Severus is left feeling he apparently should have taken ten more. He still wanted his frustration at Patil's promotion suitably felt.
"And your ceiling?" Neville prompts, genuinely curious.
Severus continues, "I'm having the students responsible..."
"Responsible! Now there's a word for you! Students!" Pomona laughs, a little unfairly Hagrid feels, but then they've established he's the softest touch of all.
"...Come by after classes in the vague hope I might be finished at a reasonable hour. In light of their competence, far from a given..."
The others join in commiserating - teaching wouldn't be half as bad if it weren't for the students (the remaining half of the problems seem split evenly between administration and parents, all agree) - as Hermione sits there smiling to herself. They're good people and good company, Severus most of all. In addition to making her feel better, such a dear, the Slytherin Head - quite possibly the most private person she knows - has just informed her he'll be home late, in front of all assembled, and not a one had taken his meaning. He can be very subtle this wizard of hers, and she enjoys him immensely.
It's a bit of a struggle not to keep shooting him affectionate looks.
Great Hall - Head Table
While others have strained to hear what's said about them, Minerva has spent the lion's share of lunch pretending she isn't the one the others mean when they complain about 'admin', and to be fair, for the most part they're referring to the Board of Governors. Heavens know, she's complained about them on many an occasion as Filius can attest. With Severus, however, she's less sure. He obviously hadn't appreciated her latest changes to his curriculum when they'd met yesterday, despite accepting them with little more than a deeply furrowed frown of complaint. He seems to fail to recognise how important these are to rehabilitating his reputation with the Board and the Wizarding World as a whole.
At the meal's conclusion she rises to return to her office, checked by the sound of Miss Patil, Miss Padma Patil, calling out to her to request a moment of her time. Well she'll squeeze it in just like everything else.
Divination - after lunch
Lavender's feelings with regard to a certain Slytherin are improved, greatly, and while that's probably better for her stomach and digestion, there's that, it leaves the unfortunate fact that the Gryffindor isn't the least bit subtle by nature. Realistically they were probably better off when she was angry at him, and Blaise finds himself expending an effort to ignore her more furiously than before, something that clearly has upper limits, is now in its own way as blatant as the Moggie's interest and naturally doesn't fail to register with Pansy, because how could it not? Fortunately Weasel isn't in the class, not that he was likely to have appeared today either way, and Blaise thinks no one else was inclined to pay Lavender's behaviour much attention save Patil who seems annoyed with her anyway and ironically is struggling a good deal more visibly than he is to ignore her.
Patil's really comically bad at this. She keeps making some discovery in the Introduction to Twigs chapter and turns to tell Lavender only to remember she's supposed to be angry or something and then turn away, visibly disappointed. Sod's law dictates the degree of frequency of such moments only increases the more you're trying to avoid someone.
As for Weasel, Blaise isn't sure how much his presence really matters, although they'll undoubtably find out soon enough. But his ego doesn't really allow for thinking there's something going on, does it? He'll... twig to their relationship fairly late in the scheme of things, Blaise is sure.
That's probably not nearly as true for certain members of his House, though. Even Trelawney could see that.
DADA classroom
Professor Peek, every bit as much a Ministry idiot in his own right as Umbridge ever was, greets them at the door to his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, an odd expression lighting his face when he spots Harry. He's much older than Professor Snape, but most likely younger than Sprout and Flitwick, in size somewhere between those two as well. He's a balding man with greying hair - what's left of it, anyway - and a fondness for inordinately ornate vests that only seem to highlight the size of his paunch as it protrudes over his spindly legs. His collection of pince-nezes seems to rival his assortment of vests, and yet generally contrast in colour for no reason they've been able to ascertain. The explantation currently most popular is that there's some odd underlying tenet of colour theory in play here with which none of them happen to be familiar - as yet - although it's sent more than one student to library to fruitlessly research. The contrast is so marked and so consistent, they just can't believe it's chance. He's proven every bit as arrogant as Lockhart and only moderately more competent, or at least they think he is, but he hasn't given them much evidence to work with. Of course that in itself was very likely a sign of more competence than Lockhart. He'd been a never ending fount of foolishness.
They probably have the Board to thank for Peek's appointment, as those who know him can't imagine Kingsley would be responsible for this bit of 'peek' idiocy, but either way, here they are. That Severus had taken this as the ultimate slap in the face that he should remain stuck teaching Potions to the wilfully ignorant while this imbecile continues to assure the student body never learns a single useful thing about Defense if at all humanly - or magically - possible should go without saying. One would think the students' lack of education in the matter, as thorough as it's been, must surely be by design. That it flies so flagrantly in the face of everything the last several years had demonstrated only too clearly yet again... Unsurprisingly Severus avoids Peek whenever possible.
It's probably just as well.
An appraising and decidedly unpleasant look musters Draco as he takes his seat. It's blatant enough that not only the Slytherins notice, although, by and large, they're the only ones who care. It puts them enough out of sorts that none of them spare a thought for Weasley when he reappears, or Madam Pomfrey's considerable talents that he's able to do so in the first place. Lavender, for her part, simply assumes Shafiq had the extent of Ron's rash all wrong with a near visceral twinge of disappointment.
There are a few oblique, and then not so oblique comments as Peek starts the lesson that soon have the Snakes suspecting what's going on here. Peek hadn't been there over the hols, he's apparently only recently learnt of Draco's relationship with Potter, and something or another about it doesn't quite sit well with him, as if he should have a say. And that right there would be one of his many failings.
The double lesson has barely started, nothing, as usual, has actually been taught, and already Peek begins making noises, suspiciously mean, that perhaps Mr. Potter would care to demonstrate the particularly nasty Hex they're not precisely learning this chapter on Draco of all classmates. If his colleagues seem to feel he isn't doing enough, he's perfectly capable of change, and no better time than the present...
Even if they were actually learning to perform much of anything, it seems more than a little strange that the focus should fall on the Hex itself, and not on an appropriate Counter, and quite naturally none whatsoever has been presented. Whatever for? Not that the students question the idiocy of the course much anymore, but it does seem sort of a given in light of the name of the class, "Defense" and all that...
Theo's Notice-Me-Nott and Draco's House Privacy Spell give them time to confer, providing them with the opportunity to prove they're wholly unagreed as to Peek's motivations...
Millie is sure Peek can't abide the thought of a Slytherin with a Gryffindor, as if it were that simple, or four years ago, bless her heart. In as much as the man was a Ravenclaw, the others are far less sure that's the problem. Gregory rather apologetically suggests Peek takes issue with their homosexuality, and most agree that's a component of whatever is going on - Draco's certainly caught an earful on that count today - but it won't be solved by anything they do shy of having the man removed, obviously, but given they've spent much of last term contemplating how to go about just that, and the man is still there, that promises to be another fruitless avenue of pursuit. Blaise rather flatly states it's the fact Draco took the Dark Mark. It's not pleasant to say and even less pleasant to hear, but hiding from the facts won't get them anywhere. Pansy disagrees, thinking the whole 'sullying of their saviour' was more of the issue, and while she's doubtless right about how many will respond, that's not the case here. This man doesn't give a whit about causing Potter discomfort. Draco just shakes his head in recognition of that fact.
"He doesn't care about that, he just doesn't think I deserve a happy end," Draco's hand absently rubs the spot where the Dark Mark is located underneath his uniform's sleeve, "and he'll take it out on anyone likely to provide it."
"The 'why' doesn't really matter, does it?" Theo asks, pragmatic as ever. "The real question is what do you want to do about it?" He looks at Draco, trying to convey his support. It was mostly a question of dumb luck that he'd fared so much better both during and in the aftermath of the War than his friend. His father had been no less avid a supporter of the Dark... Voldemort than Draco's.
Draco doesn't reply, frankly he still isn't used to his opinion mattering anymore, so Blaise prods him, gently though; they all know how rough the last couple of years have been. "Do you want to fight Potter? Harry?" Somehow the 'Harry' helps.
Draco sighs, hangs his head for a moment in resignation and then meets Blaise's eyes before answering honestly, "I'd really rather not." He and Harry still have far too many things to work through, he hadn't coached him on how to best behave at Sunday night's feast, which had been a mistake, and this wasn't on his map at all. Bugger. It was just patently cruel. How odd it hadn't occurred to him as likely then... He snorts at the thought. The time with Harry is making him soft. And with the Trace on his wand? How long before the Aurors appear? There's simply no way they duel each other and it doesn't lead to a whole slew of other problems, and most likely headlines of the absolute worst kind with his sort of luck. "I'd really rather not," he repeats, willing to leave this in his friends' hands, and looking at them imploringly.
"You can do a Suggestibility Charm without a wand," Theo makes a suggestion of his own. Draco's the only one who can, in fact.
"Going that far borders on a full blown Memory Charm. I doubt that's a good idea, especially with half the class now drooling to see Harry and I have a go at each other," Draco shakes his head as he surveys the room, trying to gauge the atmosphere. No, that will end badly. Very.
Blaise smirks, "So don't re-write, just... re-align. Re-direct. He wants to see a Gryffindor fight a Slytherin? Let him. Substitute the Weasel." A look of concern flashes over Draco's face at the thought, he's not sure his duelling with Weasley will be all that much better, and Harry, being the person he is, was far more likely to hold it against him than if they'd duelled themselves.
Blaise registers Draco's expression and smirks even more broadly, "In fact, I'll be happy to deflect Peek's interest, just have Weasel duel me. Merlin, you'd practically be doing me a favour." In as much as Weasel isn't on the Gryffindor Quidditch team anymore, they're no longer rival Keepers, and the match with Gryffindor is well behind them, the only one inclined to actually take him at his word on that is Pansy, who gives Blaise an appraising look. The rest, however, think his suggestion rather kind, and with their encouragement, Draco soon finds himself dropping the Privacy Charm and whispering a few words of Influence. The Spell is along the lines of a lesser Confundus, yet another thing Draco can thank his demented Aunt for, and further proof, as far as they're concerned, that this idiot Peek is wholly unequipped to teach them at all. How could he, when he can't even keep himself safe?
And just like that, the next thing anyone knows, Weasley and Blaise are squaring off against one another at the front of the class, and Lavender finds herself holding her breath.