Damn

Disclaimer: I do not claim any rights to Harry Potter or the characters associated with the series. Those rights belong to J.K. Rowling and anyone else she says has rights to it. I am merely borrowing her characters for the sole purpose of entertainment and no profit is being made from this story.
But I do own over Catarina “Cat” Sinclair so please don’t take her without asking.

---

Warning: This story contains spoiler details for those who haven’t read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

---

---

“Geez, it’s cold down here!”

Hermione arched an eyebrow as she looked up at Cat, a woman with a sly wit, a love for art and books, and who was also one of her best friends.

Cat, whose full name was Catarina Sinclair, was a pure-blood witch formerly from somewhere in the southern United States and had taken up residence on the other side of the Atlantic to become the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts.

“Dungeons are supposed to be cold,” said Hermione, as she stuck a bookmark in her worn and well-read copy of Hogwarts, A History.

“Yeah, but not this cold,” Cat retorted, rubbing her hands against her arms. “This is the reason why I didn’t apply for the Potions Master position. It’s too cold down here for my tastes. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“It’s really not that bad,” replied Hermione. “Besides it was a choice of being the Potions Master or the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and I only got an E on both my O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. on the D.A.D.A. exam, so I really didn’t think I would be a good enough to teach that course.”

“Not to mention the bloody position is cursed,” said Cat, flicking a strand of her dark brown hair that had fallen in her eye.

“Don’t start that up again,” Hermione moaned. “For the last time, the D.A.D.A. position is not cursed.”

“Then how do you explain the fact that no wizard or witch has ever been able to hold the position for more then a year? In fact, some of them don’t even last the whole year and then we get stuck taking turns filling in for what’s left of the year. And let’s not forget that Harry said that Dumbledore once told him that no one’s been able to hold that position ever since Voldemort came asking for it and old Voldie’s been dead now for over nine years and no one still can’t hold that damn spot.”

“There is no curse,” Hermione replied stubbornly. “It’s nothing more then a little bad luck, difficult situations, and a few fools that heard about the so-called curse and let superstition scare them away.”

“You just keep telling yourself that Hermione, but one of these days you’re going to have to face facts,” said Cat. “But speaking of the D.A.D.A. position, who did McGonagall hire to teach it this year?”

“I have no clue.”

“What do you mean you have no clue? You’re the Deputy Headmistress! McGonagall’s right-hand witch! You should have more then a clue!”

“Well the truth of the matter is that Professor McGonagall is still trying to choose which of the applicants to hire,” Hermione replied, straightening her desk before she stood up.

She reached up behind her head to check and make sure that her hair was still in the bun that she had restrained it in that morning. Although her hair was no longer as bushy as it had been during her childhood and teenage years, it could by no means be called tame. Left to its own devices, her hair cascaded down her back in waves of dark brown hair before curling at the ends. If it hadn’t been for the promise that she made to her mother long ago and Cat’s threats of bodily injury if she cut a single lock, Hermione would have cut her hair short in the boyish style that Cat had cut hers in.

“Well she had better hurry up and make her choice because the little monsters will be back in less then twenty minutes,” said Cat, with shudder.

“Little monsters? Last time I checked, you loved teaching and loved the students.”

“That was before my family decided to infiltrate and contaminate the school with their evil.”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“Hermione, they give new meaning to the word,” replied Cat. “For some whacked out reason, my brother, Gino’s decided to send his little terrors to Hogwarts instead of sending them to Salem like every other normal American wizard. Oh no, he has to send them to the school where their Aunt Cat teaches so they can drive her up a bloody wall!”

“I think you’re over exaggerating, Cat,” Hermione said, as the two women exited her dungeon office and headed. “Aren’t they First Years? What kind of trouble they could possibly get into?”

“Someone’s forgotten her own First Year.”

“Now, that’s not fair. It was impossible to not stay out of trouble when you’re friends with Harry Potter and Voldemort was still alive.”

“Keh, Fine. Let’s not talk about my little nieces and nephew who will be arriving shortly to ruin my life. How about we talk about your love life? Or the lack of it?”

“Have you been watching Inu Yasha again,” Hermione asked.

“Yes, but don’t try changing the subject. You haven’t had a date since you were a student at Hogwarts, have you?”

“I didn’t have time to date,” Hermione replied. “I spent what should have been my last year, looking for Voldemort’s Horxcruxes. An-”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Cat interrupted. “You were on a very important mission, but that was ages ago. Hermione, you’re twenty-six now. Most witches at your age have either had several boyfriends or they’re married with a little one clinging to their robes.”

“Well you’re one to talk,” retorted Hermione. “You’re going to be twenty-eight in December and as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never had a boyfriend so what’s the difference between us?”

“I date. You don’t. I sincerely hope that our new D.A.D.A. colleague is a sexy wizard that will pull you out of the books and into his bed, because you my dear, Hermione are in a great need of a good shagging.”

Hermione’s face began to turn pink and before she could stammer out a retort, somewhere in the castle a clock began to chime, letting them know that it was now seven o’clock.

“I better go,” Hermione said. “It’s time to greet the First Years.”

“Yeah, I better get to the Great Hall before the other students arrive….” Cat’s lips curved into a smug grin. “and it gives me time to get all the stats of the D.A.D.A. professor and if it’s a guy, see if he’s willing to be your kinky boy toy.”

“CAT!”

Laughing, Cat skipped down the dark corridors toward the Great Hall.



If you had told him eight years ago that he would one day become a professor at Hogwarts, Draco Lucien Malfoy would have laughed in your face. But here he was standing with Professor McGonagall, who hadn’t seemed to age since he was student, being introduced to the Hogwarts faculty as they arrived in the Great Hall.

“Ah, and here is Professor Sinclair,” Professor McGonagall said, drawing his attention back to reality and to an attractive young witch.

The witch had a pale face as if it was carved from alabaster and full, sensual lips that seemed to be in a perpetual pout, the kind that drove men crazy. Her hair was a rich dark brown and was cut boyishly short which accented the delicate angles of her face. She was about five feet two inches in height and had a body made for sin. But what marked her as unique were her eyes

If he had any questions about whether she was a Sinclair by blood or marriage, they were erased by her eyes. Legend had it that a Sinclair had been seduced by a Sidhe lord and out of the seduction had come a half-Sidhe son who had eyes that were filled with paradoxes and mysterious magic. That Sinclair wizard had then turned an unimportant and poor family into the one of the most prominent and wealthy families of the Wizarding world. It was said that a few children of each generation of the Sinclair family had those eyes, and the wizards and witches with these eyes had also inherited the golden touch that their ancestor had.

It was one of the reasons why years ago his father had tried to make a match between Draco and a Sinclair witch. But Lucius’s proposal had been rebuffed because the Sinclairs did not support the Dark Lord and would not tie one of their own to one whose family who did.

The eyes of this Sinclair witch were same rich violet color of an amethyst and held the same air of mystery that he was sure her ancestor had.

Soft and hard. Cold and hot. Innocent and worldly. Kind and cruel. Angelic and devilish. Sensual and sexual. He saw them all in her eyes and promises of much more if he was strong enough to claim it.

But despite all this, he didn’t want her in that way. It was true that he was attracted to her, but there was no lust to this attraction. In fact, he found her presence to have the same soothing effect that his mother’s had upon him and this thought brought a smile upon his face.

The witch’s lips curved into an answering smile.

“Professor Sinclair, I would like you to introduce you to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor and our new head of Slytherin, Draco Malfoy,” said Professor McGonagall. “Malfoy, this is Catarina Sinclair. She’s our Transfiguration instructor.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Professor Sinclair said, holding out her hand as Professor McGonagall moved away to answer a question that Professor Binns had asked.

Draco took her hand and placed a chaste kiss upon it; her lips formed a small ‘O’ as a soft gasp escaped them

“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine,” he replied, releasing her hands, “Professor Sinclair.”

“Oh, just call me Cat, all my friends do,” said Cat. Her head tilted slightly to the side as she stared up with a speculative gleam in her eyes. “You have quite an effect on women, don’t you? You don’t happen to have a veela somewhere in your family tree, do you, Malfoy?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but according to my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, Malfoy men have always been able to effect women without trying.”

“And when they do try,” she questioned.

“They don’t stand a chance.”

A delighted smile appeared on Cat’s face and she muttered something under her breath. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he had heard her say something like, “It’s about time she got some.”

A loud chime filled the Great Hall and Draco shot Cat a questioning look.

“That means the students have arrived. The older students will begin filing in here shortly and then the First Years will be brought in,” she said, answering his unspoken question. “We better take our places at the High Table before they arrive.”

Draco followed her up the steps to the platform and sat down in the seat that she indicated. Cat sat two seats from him and he arched his eyebrow at the empty seat between them.

“Seat belongs to the Potions Master.”

Nodding, he turned his attention to the doors of the Great Hall which had creaked open and students began pouring into the room. Soon the House tables were filled except the seats closest to the High Table, which would soon be filled by the First Years, and the noise in the room rose as students chattered, catching up with friends about events that had happened during the summer. A loud verbal fight erupted in the middle of the Gryffindor table about some Quidditch match that had occurred in July and he barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes over the stupidity of it.

‘Leave it to a bunch of Gryffindors to argue about something so trivial,’ he thought.

“Something ominous has happened to some of the First Years,” a woman’s voice declared in a soft and misty tone from somewhere to his left.

He glanced towards the voice and saw Professor Trelawney having a heated whispered discussion with Professor McGonagall. She hadn’t changed much since he has last seen her. She still wore huge glasses that enlarged her eyes, making her look like a mutant insect and he noticed there her hair was starting to turn gray.

“Why do I have a feeling that I know which First Years are in trouble,” Cat grumbled, glaring up at the ceiling which showed a dark night sky that was clear of any clouds and filled with twinkling stars.

The doors of the Great Hall creaked open again once more and the First Years entered the room. A few moments later, two little witches and a wizard, who were soaking wet, entered the room followed by a witch who he assumed was the Potions Master. As the witch and the soaking students came closer, his eyes made a slow perusal of the Potions Master. She had a nice figure, not as eye-stopping as Cat’s, but her body was nothing to sneeze about. She walked confidently and with purpose giving him the impression that this witch didn’t put up with any nonsense; yet there was a subtle sensuality about the way she moved, a definite feminine sway in her hips that he found erotic.

As his eyes moved up to her face, he noted that her lips were more full and sensual then Cat’s and he has a feeling that this witch would bite her lip when she was worried or distressed or… trying to hold back a scream of pleasure while she in the throes of passion. He felt himself harden at the thought of being the one who was causing her that pleasure and then his eyes met her.

Silver clashed in shock with amber.

He knew those pale brown eyes that had always reminded him of amber or dark honey. There was only one witch that he knew who had those eyes.

Hermione Granger.

The only one who had been able to do pull better grades then him.

The only one had ever gotten away with having the last word with him.

The only one who had ever gotten away with hitting him (he hadn’t even let Pansy Parkinson get away with it and he wasted five months of his life dating her).

The only one who had managed to surprise him and react strangely to her whenever she had provoked or challenged to him.

And he had just been having lustful thoughts about her.

Who would have thought that he would ever cross that line with her?