False Pretense

A/N I don’t know why I wanted to post this as it’s probably going to be a pretty boring story and kind of cliché. Ok, I lied, maybe not all that boring but not as action packed as my other stories. I had a stupid little plot bunny that had been nibbling at my side for days about this. Now that I think of it, it is really cliché lol. Hopefully, I can add my own little twist to it and make it an enjoyable read. Please tell me how you feel about the story as I’m a bit unsure of it.

Once I figure out a better summary I will change it but right now it’s kind of mediocre. =(

Song:
The Past, the Present, and the Future
Sia – Breathe Me
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbP0c9TZfzM

You Look Like a Fish, Ms. Granger.
All American Rejects – Swing Swing
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyzTDVYCEmI

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The Past, the Present, and the Future
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The beginning of term never caused alarm for one Ms. Hermione J. Granger, in fact, it was one of the best parts of the year. After spending her summer in the country sides of Falmouth, a small wizarding harbor community, Hermione was prepared to tackle yet another year at Hogwarts. Standing in front of her long full length mirror, she stared at herself and tilted her head to the side. Although petite and a little on the pale side, which she blamed all those years locked away in the library, Hermione was no longer a child but an adult. In fact, she was the youngest professor at Hogwarts for Transfiguration and that was no slight feat. Long mahogany curls cascaded over her shoulders in long tendrils that framed her heart shaped face perfectly. When she tilted her head to the side a long, pearly white scar could be seen flickering in the light – evidence of what she endured during the war.

It had been years, seven years to be correct, since the end of the war and all was well. Kingsley Shacklebolt took the position of Minister of Magic after the fall of He-Who-Lost-It-All and single handedly reversed all laws that appealed to Pure-bloods and against Muggle-borns. It was a great time indeed, especially when Kingsley announced that werewolves and other half-breed wizards and witches would never be discriminated against again. Remus Lupin, now working for the rights of half-breeds around the world, celebrated the passing of a law that enabled all those who had been bitten by a werewolf to still attend school and hold jobs without discrimination. Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin stood by his side during the presentation and announcement of the law, hair bubblegum pink and cheeks flushed.

Ron became famous, just as he always wanted to be, and not because he was best mates with Harry Potter, the Boy Who Triumphed. After joining the Chudley Cannons, he took the reins and led them to their first victory in over fifty years. A year later, they went to the World Cup but lost by ten points when Viktor Krum caught the snitch before their own seeker. Not that it mattered, however, because Ron was well liked and had broken the curse on the Cannons. He was rolling in galleons, more than he knew what to do with, and was finally able to work up the nerve to ask Luna Lovegood to dinner. Hermione never really found out what transpired during that dinner but she had a feeling it was anything but negative as they were now waiting the arrival of their first child. Mrs. Weasley had been adamant that they marry before their child was born but ever the rebel Ron decided marriage was what his mum wanted and not him. Luna didn’t seem to mind, or care, in fact she didn’t seem to think anything of it.

Harry was finally able to embrace the fame that came to him as a babe and was far happier than he had ever been. Becoming senior Auror to the Ministry at twenty-three, he revolutionized the war the world saw Aurors and was responsible for halting Dark wizard crimes altogether. He married Ginny, which was an obvious choice from the beginning, and had just welcomed the birth of his first son James Sirius. Hermione had never seen Harry look so accomplished, loved, and happy in her life and she was happy for him. Ginny played for the Holyhead Harpies for a year or two until she was injured during one game against Falmouth and woke up a month later at St. Mungos. At Harry’s request, and subsequent proposal, she gave up that stint as Quidditch player and joined the Daily Prophet as a correspondant.

After all the years of death and chaos, the Wizarding World was put right again and families flourished. Whenever there was a baby boom that meant the inflation of students to attend Hogwarts. Hogwarts hadn’t changed so much after the final battle. The walls still held scorch marks from were dark hexes were blasted and Peeves still sang the Hogwarts Victory Song, as it was dubbed. McGonagall relinquished her position as Transfiguration professor to fully commit herself as Headmistress. Severus Snape, who was revealed to have been a spy for Dumbledore all these years, returned at Potions Master when Slughorn retired yet again. The curse of the Defense against the Dark Arts position had been lifted but the professor was retiring after a short stint due to his arthritic knee.

This discovery, that there was a new professor for the subject, had peaked Hermione’s normal excitement for the school year. With her bags packed and small flat basically empty of all books Hermione took one last look at her form and smirked. It was going to be the beginning of a new year, and with new years came new discoveries and friendships. Bending down, Hermione grasped the handles of two large tawny brown trunks and left her small flat for the journey to Hogwarts.

Nestled in the hills, surrounded by forests and lakes, Hogwarts looked just as she had remembered it when she was younger. To any normal Muggle, the school resembled ruins and reeked with an air of dangerousness, but to those of magical blood it was brilliant. Hermione Apparated to Hogsmeade first and took the carriage drawn by now visible – to her – threstrals to the large establishment she would call home for ten months. Her bags were unloaded by house-elves, to which she thanked and they cringed in memory of her trying to ‘free’ them from their work. Smiling lightly as Dobby barked orders for the younger house-elves to handle her luggage with care, Hermione passed through the large oak doors.

The school was uncharacteristically empty due to the lack of students, but that would all change once dinner time arrived. Hermione stood just outside the front doors and inhaled the musky scent of the school she fell in love with before she even step foot inside it. It was a whirlwind of activities, faculty meetings, and bickering between professors about where decorations should go. Hermione chuckled when Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout wagered who would be the newest member of the faculty. It was a toss up between Cormac McLaggen, a well known author of various Dark Arts Defense texts, and a Ministry appointed official.

She hardly cared who the professor would be as long as he or she taught the class the way it ought to be. Her school years had been fickle and she only had one really good teacher, well two but she’d hardly admit she enjoyed Snape’s teaching. Remus had been offered the position, from what she gathered, but the former Professor was thoroughly enjoying his life with his wife and son, Teddy. Harry too had been offered the position but he declined it in favor of being Head Auror and Hermione knew he would go stir crazy being in close proximity with Snape. While the pair acknowledged and respected one another, they still held great disdain for the other. It was a deadly cycle meant to repeat itself in her mind’s eye.

“Students will be arriving soon,” McGonagall said proudly, puffing her chest out slightly in pride, “Let’s make this another wonderful year, shall we?”

“Here! Here!” the staff, save Snape, cheered, clanking their goblets together as they prepared for the fresh faces that entered.

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You Look Like a Fish, Ms. Granger.
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Hermione sat beside Snape and an empty chair reserved for the newest professor. She scooted her chair in, raking the legs across the ground, and felt Snape’s glare on the top of her head but she didn’t bother to look at him. Folding and unfolding her napkin, Hermione watched as students rushed in donning their Hogwarts robes, eager for a feast. She couldn’t help but look around, hoping to see if the new professor had arrived but it seemed that she, or he, was late.

The Sorting had always been loads of fun to watch, more from the side of a professor. Hermione had become the new Gryffindor Head and spent many nights assisting students with their O.W.L.s. and N.E.W.T.s. In all, they welcomed six Gryffindors, nine Hufflepuff, five Slytherins and eight Ravenclaws. Headmistress McGonagall rose as the new students climbed into their seats and began the evening with her usual drawl of a welcoming speech. Dumbledore’s speeches had always been…eccentric…to say the least, but they were highly entertaining. Now, McGonagall’s speech was the perfection of boring and a total snore-fest. Students stared at her with glazed eyes, and Hermione even found herself staring wantonly at the Headmistress.

She did, however, perk up when McGonagall got around introducing the newest addition to the faculty. Hermione looked around at the students’ eager faces and smiled brightly.

“Our newest professor hails from Wiltshire, headed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was on the board of school governors, and worked alongside several of our very best Aurors,” McGonagall said, peaking Hermione’s interest.

This new professor must be intelligent then, she thought, or at least he is suited for the job. No more hacks or imposters but a real knowledgeable person. He worked alongside the best Aurors? Maybe she had met him before, or he knew Harry, it wasn’t very common for her to meet his coworkers but she had on several occasions. The door from behind the teachers opened and Hermione instantly shot her gaze there, her face full of anticipation. It was replaced with shock, disgust and…if possible…confusion.

He stood at six foot two with square shoulders and an athletic form. Robes of midnight blue were tailored perfectly to his body where she could only imagine what laid beneath the layers of expensive fabric. His face was a sight to behold, chiseled to perfection and smooth. He had short blond shaggy hair that was slicked back lightly; tendrils of silvery hair fell across his face like several tiny veils. Those eyes and that trademark grin made her stomach turn and she lost all appetite for her meal.

“May I present, Professor Draco Malfoy,” McGonagall said, waving a hand to the tall, lean man approaching the table.

“You look like a fish, Ms. Granger,” Professor Snape whispered to Hermione as he brought his hand to her chin and slammed it shut.

Hermione pulled her face from him and scowled as Draco approached the empty seat. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her to switch with Hooch or even Flitwick. He pulled his chair back and stood beside Hermione, nodding politely as the students cheered – and did she see and hear girls swoon?

“Thank you very much for the warm welcome,” Draco said, giving that stupid Malfoy smirk, “I hope this will be a productive year and we will get along splendidly.”

“Not on my life,” Hermione grumbled, glancing to Snape – who held back a chortle and shook his head.

McGonagall nodded to Draco, who took his seat beside Hermione without so much as a glance, and continued her spiel about the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake. Hermione shifted in her seat so that she was leaning toward Snape, but he brought his hand to her shoulder and pushed her back to her side. Grinning at her with content and malice, Hermione shot him a scowl and brought her eyes to her goblet.

“Let the feast begin!” McGonagall finally said with gusto as the tables filled with various delights.

Dinner was a swarm of activity and thankfully Hermione was spared any conversation with Draco as he was completely enraptured by the buzz of all other faculty on him. She had never gotten so much attention when she came, and she was the youngest Professor ever, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t like attention anyway, that was why she became a teacher. Draco’s rumble of a laugh broke her concentration on her goblet and she looked up to see him staring at her with his sapphire cobalt eyes.

“Having a private pity party, Granger?” Draco asked, cutting a slice of chicken with his knife and fork, “Or are you hoping that thing will propose?”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Hermione growled, watching him pluck the chicken off the fork with his teeth. “How did some one like you even get this position?”

“Didn’t you listen to Headmistress McGonagall’s speech?” He asked, quirking as eyebrow when Hermione went to town on her pork chop, butchering the hell out of it, “I am highly qualified. Youngest to head the Department of Magical Law, youngest on the school board, you know, all those things.”

“Whatever,” Hermione grumbled, stabbing her pork chop with her fork roughly, “This isn’t a game Malfoy. This is a real job, you can’t just skate by…”

“Who said I was taking this position to skate by, Granger?” Draco interrupted, watching her mutilate her peas and carrots with her knife, “I know the details of the position, if I wanted something easy I’d go for Herbology.”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts is a serious subject,” Hermione nodded, stabbing her carrot with her fork, “It’s not to be taken lightly. Hogwarts is…”

“Determined to give every student the best education he or she can receive,” Draco laughed, “Yes, I know. I read the hand packet – and I’m quite certain that you probably memorized it. So, please, spare me whatever accusations your pretty little head is thinking of.”

Pretty? Did he just say she had a pretty head? What. A. Git. Hermione stiffened when she felt his hand graze hers and reach for the pitcher of pumpkin juice and turned to scowl at him. She knew she shouldn’t be so critical of him, being that it was his first evening here and she promised herself she would never judge a person from their past. However, this was Draco Malfoy and she swore to loath him for all eternity since she first met him. There was no possible way she would allow herself to even so much as think he was good enough for her friendship. He was annoying, superficial, purist, and handsome. Whoa. No. Take that back damnit. Too late.

Hermione frowned at her mutilated meal and shoved it away, feeling no appetite at all. Draco quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward.

“If you’re trying for a new ‘maim your meal’ diet, you needn’t,” he looked at Hermione as her eyes were brought to his, “What would the students think? Tut tut, bad influence.”

“You are impossible,” Hermione growled, pulling the rolls to her.

“I try,” Draco smirked, handing her the butter for her roll, “It’s going to be an interesting year…especially considering that I’ve become Head of Slytherin.”

The knife Hermione held clattered to her plate and she rounded on him with wide eyes.

“W-What?” Her voice was barely above a whisper and her lips were parted. She spun around and looked at Snape, who didn’t bother make conversation with others around him. “You’re not going to be Head of Slytherin?”

Snape turned and nodded curtly, “I believe Mr. Malfoy will do a fine job as head of house.”

“What? But…” Hermione looked between Draco and Snape, her vision becoming dizzy, “You’re always head of house. I made plans and charts for our Prefects and…”

“I’m sure Professor Malfoy would be delighted to sit through another one of your…schedule meetings,” Snape said, clearing his throat as he turned to speak lightly to Madam Hooch.

Hermione’s mouth dropped and she groaned. She had been working with Snape for the past three years and had just gotten a rhythm down as to scheduling and patrolling. Flitwick and Sprout often patrolled together, partially because Flitwick was scared of Snape and Sprout was annoyed by how ‘by the book’ Hermione was. She heard Draco chuckle and snarled quietly. An entire year with Draco? Oh gods, what has she gotten herself into?