The Echoes Of Yesterday

The Echoes Of Yesterday…..by Samayel

Chapter 7: The Interview


Harry’s day started well enough. John Prewett administered two potions to Harry before classes began, breakfast was quite good, and Harry easily passed off rumors about his ’incident’ the day before to a simple flu that had gone uncaught. The brat made no appearance that morning, at Harry’s room or during breakfast, and Harry was pleased that his orders had been obeyed, though he hadn’t expressly forbidden the young man to join the school for breakfast. Harry’s classes ran smoothly, save for the answering of questions about whether he was well or not, which were actually kind of sweet. The majority of his students were very fond of him, and had genuinely worried for him over a single missed day. Once Ron and the others had seen that he was alright and seemed well enough, the questions died to down to a bare minimum, and Harry felt that he could get on with something like a normal day.

Harry remained in the office behind his classroom after his classes were done, and when he had the majority of his paperwork ready, he sent an elf to fetch Malfoy. Just using the name still rankled, but Harry had had all day to work out his approach and determine how he would deal with the insouciant boy. Politeness had failed utterly, but the threat of force and a tone of authority had worked quite well, and so Harry decided on a detached sort of vague disapproval, hoping that if he kept the brat wondering what was ’too far’, it might diminish the amount of saucy commentary he had to endure. He’d resigned himself to attempting this, but he by no means intended to be a complete pushover while he did so.

A polite rap at the door a few minutes later brought Harry’s eyes up, and though the door was open, Draco Malfoy was waiting at the entrance, his face an expressionless mask. If the current state of affairs continued, Harry was almost ready to embrace the notion that yesterday’s fiasco had been a fluke, and that this young man had some potential. He had the files from Durmstrang in front of him, and he dismissively waved the boy in.

“Enter and take a seat.”

“Yes, sir.” Malfoy walked in quickly once invited and seated himself, his back erect in his chair, chin raised just enough to hint at defiance without seeming too obvious about it. As long as it was kept down to a bare minimum, Harry was willing to let it slide.

“Mister Malfoy, I have agreed, at least for the short term, to act as your mentor in Defense Against The Dark Arts, on the condition that this interview between us, now, goes well. Be informed that the events of yesterday do not stand in your favor. If you wish to be a student, you will conduct yourself like one, whether you have one teacher or twenty, and you will treat the entire staff with the respect they are due. If you answer my questions to my satisfaction, I will give due consideration to making the arrangement last through the entire year. At that point, we will further discuss things such as schedule and assignments, as well as what it will take to fit you into the regimen here at Hogwarts. Do you understand me and is this acceptable to you?”

Draco Malfoy nodded silently and respectfully, which in and of itself was a surprise. His words came a few seconds later, just as Harry had been about to take up where he left off.

“Professor…I apologize for my behavior yesterday. I became very anxious when I thought that my request would be rejected out of hand. I hope you will forgive my insolence, and be assured that I am very serious about my studies. I would not disappoint you as a student.”

Harry bristled a little, unsettled by Malfoy’s contrite apology. Harry didn’t want to be unsettled, and he certainly didn’t want to feel or act disarmed. He’d been insulted and taken for an easy mark because he’d been too shocked to take command of the situation, and he would not let that happen to him twice.

“Well spoken, Mister Malfoy, but do not think that I am easily swayed by anything less than hard facts and unflinching honesty. Let us begin. Tell me precisely what you hope to gain from coming to Hogwarts. Give me any reasons you may have, and I will decide if they are sufficient cause to pull me away from my regular duties.”

“My marks were perfect or nearly perfect at Durmstrang, but Durmstrang has a very different curriculum from Hogwarts. I hope to gain knowledge and training that might have been overlooked there. I read extensively, but practical application of some spells is safer under supervision and with instruction by those who have used such magics before. This is also the school of my father. I want to walk its halls, and know some of it as he knew it, because…I did not get to know him. He was killed…along with my mother when I was one year old. I assumed you would understand what that is like. You are the foremost expert in Defense Against The Dark Arts currently teaching anywhere in the world. You also killed a Dark Lord at the height of his power. You survived or resisted all three of the Unforgivable Curses. This is not idle flattery, sir. I would have to be a fool to ignore the opportunity to improve my skills by studying under a professor with such credentials, and I am not a fool.”

It was all spoken so matter-of-factly. Harry forgot his next question for a moment, and found himself staring into the face across the desk, looking for any sign of deceit or manipulation. He saw none that he could recognize, but Malfoy’s jaw was tight, and the hesitance with which he spoke of his family rang throughout. The faintest hint of a bitter and angry sneer was playing at the corner of Draco’s mouth, but he remained silent, waiting for Harry to speak again.

Draco’s face was a handsome blend of both his parents’ features. Where Draco had been tall and slender, this boy was shorter and more of average proportion. The fiercely aristocratic features of his father had been tamed with the softer features of his mother, and the result was a young man of exceptional attractiveness, when one looked past the sullen and smoldering arrogance. Harry shook himself free of such musings and pushed forward, struggling to regain his equilibrium.

“You assume correctly that I understand how that must feel, and I hope that you understand that, though I sympathize, the matter has no bearing on whether or not you merit an education here. Your other reasons strike me as entirely legitimate, and well thought out. To continue, I have your records from Durmstrang, and there are several matters I wish to discuss. You were disciplined often, and despite nearly perfect marks in all classes. This does not make sense to me. High academic achievement, especially at this level, rarely goes hand in hand with continued disciplinary problems. Explain this to me.”

Draco looked uncomfortable, suddenly developing an intense interest in the surface of Harry’s desk.

“I have been told that…that I am occasionally…intemperate…and that I sometimes speak my mind under inappropriate circumstances.”

Harry bit his tongue, but a chuckle emerged anyway, followed by a snort while he tried to restrain laughter. Draco smirked faintly, then nervously wiped his brow, obviously holding back laughter of his own, uncertain if it was safe for him to speak openly. Harry’s barely contained amusement emboldened him.

“I suppose you already knew that part though.”

Harry guffawed. “I might have noticed that, yes. Seriously…you mean to say that despite a long succession of disciplinary actions, you still spoke inappropriately to your instructors? You seem much too gifted to let petty things distract you. Give me just a little more detail than that. I don’t want what they said, I want what you felt was going on.”

Draco looked at him with genuine curiosity, and framed a cautious question.

“You won’t think me impertinent if I answer honestly, will you?”

“There is a difference between being offensive and being honest…even if the two sometimes intersect. If you aren’t being insulting to the students or staff here, I have no qualms about hearing your thoughts on the education you received at Durmstrang.”

Draco wrung his hands, looking a bit uncertain still. “I never met anyone who implied that the truth could be insulting, and still be the truth. I don’t…I don’t think I’m very good at pretending I’m less talented than I am. Frankly, I was better than some of my teachers, or at least I had more innate power. I feel that I was sometimes treated harshly or held back when certain teachers felt that I needed to be shown that they were superior to me…even if they weren’t. I should have had perfect marks across the board. I performed the spells better than any of my classmates, but when I was marked poorly, or rather poorly by my standards, I always spoke up. Consequently, I found myself at odds with my instructors. I understand that it looks poorly on my record, but I will not be told to be ashamed of myself for success when others fail.”

Harry took this in, finding himself more at ease as the conversation moved forward. He’d never really had to interview a prospective student before, and despite the name and similar appearance, this boy was very different from the young man that Harry had known long ago. It was somewhat less stressful when he was able to remind himself that he was dealing with an entirely different person. It was likely the lingering efficacy of John’s potion-making skills as well, but the end result was that Harry felt much more comfortable than he had anticipated.

“Mister Malfoy, you will not find success being dismissed, or talent being quashed, at Hogwarts. Of that, I can assure you. Principles of cooperation and unity amongst wizards and witches of all backgrounds are taught here, and talent and dedication are to be praised. If it’s any comfort at all, about twenty years ago, I had a professor a bit like what you describe. Made a perfectly decent class into a nightmare for me. I’ve used that experience to gauge what not to do as a teacher ever since. I think we can ensure that you won’t feel cheated of any accolades you might earn, though I expect you to not lord it over the other students if you can possibly help it. I have a few last questions for you now, and we‘ll see where we go from there. The report from Durmstrang says that you had no friends, no associates, and almost no social network or peers to speak of. You seem bright and well spoken, so again…this makes no sense to me. Explain, if you will?”

Draco’s jaw tightened again, and Harry was concerned for a moment that he’d lost ground or touched a subject as sore for this boy as some of his own were for him. Draco answered quietly, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

“I…I had other concerns. I like to read, and childish games never interested me. I was smarter than most of the other students, and they liked being upstaged about as much as my teachers did. Sometimes being good at something doesn’t make you any friends.”

“I see. That brings us to my final inquiry. You said that you became very anxious when you thought you wouldn’t receive tutoring in Defense Against The Dark Arts by me. That anxiety moved you to barge into my quarters barking questions and demanding answers. It was unseemly, but what I really want to know is why you felt such anxiety. Your marks are still good enough to train anywhere in the world. Why me? Why here? Why such anxiety over a possible refusal?”

Draco looked Harry directly in the eyes, searing Harry’s mind with leaden gray orbs that seemed faintly haunted for a moment.

“Because…to come here, to learn from you, to see this school…that has been my only goal since I was thirteen. This is what I have endured the rigors and inadequacies of Durmstrang for. I admit that I became upset when I thought that all I have worked for was to mean nothing, and that I would be going home before my bags were even unpacked. My apology was sincere, and I cannot say how grateful I am that you have reconsidered. There is no other person I wish to learn these arts from, and no other place I wish to learn them.. That is why.”

Harry decided to leave off the questioning for the time being. Draco’s directness and candor had shaken him just a little, and it looked as if it had shaken Draco as well. Harry had gained some insight into the young man that concerned the Ministry so much, and perhaps it wouldn’t be such a terrible burden, working with a talented and seemingly wounded youth like this. It would be complicated, to be sure, but with John Prewett helping Harry along the way, it might just be possible to see an end to this that left everyone the better for it. Maybe it was the potions talking, granting a brief immunity from stress, but Harry felt surprisingly better about the task in front of him, and his relaxed smile let that sentiment show.

“Draco Malfoy, let’s discuss what to do with your time at Hogwarts. Congratulations…you’re now a student…again. Let‘s see if we can make the experience a little more worth your while.”

TBC