𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 || Lucius Malfoy

𝘗𝘙𝘐𝘋𝘌

"Vanity and pride are different things,
though the words are often used synonymously.
A person may be proud without being vain.
Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves,
vanity to what we would have others think of us."

The summer was too short. The 3 months had flown by for Miraphora Biggs and now she was left with longing for more nights on the beach, traveling the world with some of her closest friends. She was now left preparing for the arrival of Hogwarts students. This was the Ancient studies professor's second year, and she would have to get to know the new incoming 7th and 8th years while also balancing her tutoring opportunities that she was now being assigned. The young professor was eager for this new incoming classes, they had to be more mature than the students she had last year. Most of her students in her first year thought having the young professor was the best thing, and she was constantly giving detentions to those who tried their hardest to swoon the girl. Her red hair contrasted with her blue eyes, pale skin that was dotted with freckles made her stand out from the others. Many mistook her for a Weasley, and each time she found herself offended by the statement. Comparing her to a Weasley was the worse possible thing in her mind, they were careless and odd humans. With the Weasleys she had met, they always drove her crazy. Fred and George had caused many antics in Miraphora's presence, whether it be to try and get on her nerves or get her attention. It was going to be another year trying to ward them off from some sort of odd advances.

Mira was gathering herself for greeting students in the Great Hall. Her hair was tied up in a black ribbon along with a black floral dress that ended at the knee with a pair of black flats. She was in her own head thinking about how this year was going to go, what crazed thing will happen again. You see, Mira's first year she had experienced a 1st year student and his friends fight a troll, then apparently fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in trying to find the Philosopher's Stone. She had spent most of the year trying to protect these three from anything stupid, even if one of them was a Weasley. Harry, Ron and Hermione had realized that Professor Biggs was an asset to them, she knew all about the old building after attending Hogwarts herself and studying it extensively throughout her time there. Before the trio left Mira had warned them that they should not get into anymore trouble the next year, as she could not handle the stress that came with caring for them.

She was pulled from her thoughts of the group when there was a knock at her door. Giving a quick blink of her eyes to full snap out of it, she waltzed over to the door, opening it cautiously. There stood the potions professor, Severus Snape. "Severus! To what do I owe this surprise?" Her voice was soft, as if it were swirled with honey. Snape's face didn't change as he was met with her smile.

"You are late, Miraphora." He drawled. Her eyes widened as she scrambled over to the clock. "What have you been doing in here?" His eyes glanced around her chambers. It was a mess. There were books scattered across the table by the fire, clothes draped over chairs and shoes all over the floor. He adverted his eyes when it landed on one of her bras resting on the desk next to him. Mira was throwing on the last piece of her makeup, running her fingers through the ringlet curls.

"I have been getting ready, thank you! I haven't-"

"Been focusing, this isn't new. You tend to have your head in the clouds." Severus interrupted. She glanced at him, daggers essentially shooting from her eyes. Without a word she brushed past him, and made her way down the hall.

"I also came to tell you that Mister Malfoy has requested a meeting with you...about tutoring." The professor's voice called after her. She froze as she looked at her feet. Her face paled as she turned around slowly, tilting her head.

"Why?" She slowly approached the man, her head craning up to stare at him.

"You'll be teaching his son, Draco. Helping him with history." Miraphora groaned loudly as she tilted her head back. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she slowly inhaled. This was a nightmare.