professor? ( ✓ )

chapter nineteen

'Dear Mumma Rita,

I know you've always had an obsession with Harry Potter, and I feel I may have the greatest story for you henceforth to create. If interested, write soon.

Your Godchild,
Madeline Morgan'

~△⃒⃘~

"Can anyone tell me the significance of polar ice when designing a preservation potion?" Draco Malfoy asked his class of fourth year Slytherins one afternoon a week into the new semester. His grey eyes scoured the crowd, but nobody seemed to be showing an ounce of interest, disheartening him, as these people were Slytherins, and Potions was his passion. "Nobody?"

A hand shot into the air moments later, and a glorious smile erupted on his face as he called on the student excitedly, only to sulk even further when the boy asked if he could use the restroom.

"Does anyone have any interest in learning today at all?" He asked, frustration evident as he locked his jaw. He wrung his hands together, not used to the complete silence cast upon the room. For a brief second, he almost wished Hermione Granger were present, if only just to have his question answered so he didn't look like a complete arse standing in front of these fourteen year olds.

"We've been focusing on winter-based ingredients for two weeks now, Professor. Can't we learn something new, or more interesting?" One girl spoke up from the back, and Draco watched a plethora of nods followed.

"And what would you suggest we learn, Ms. Sheldon?" He asked, leaning against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest, an eyebrow risen.

"Amortentia, perhaps?" She claimed, and he sighed. She did have a point. Winter ingredients, though vital to the season, did get a bit old.

"Yeah, it's nearly Valentine's Day! We should know all about love, as we're sure you do, Professor." A boy towards the middle of the class quirked an eyebrow, teasing the teacher. This was his first mistake.

Draco, jaw tense, walked around his desk and pressed his palms flat against the surface, glaring at said boy. How dare this kid think he had any right to claim that he, Draco Malfoy, heir of the Malfoy name, didn't know, or experience, love. With a shaky, aggravated hand, he picked up a bit of chalk and walked to his blackboard, never taking his eyes off the boy as he walked.

"Fine then. If its Amortentia you'd like to know about, then it's Amortentia that will fill your brains - or in this case, noses." He spoke, voice eerily calm for how upset he was. "Before we get to brewing, we must first understand what it is. Can anybody tell me what Amortentia is, rather than just a love potion: the most famous of love potions in fact?"

A hand shot up into the air, and Draco's eyebrow rose as he noticed a kid who had never spoken in his class before wave it about anxiously. He was a bit heavyset, and had dirty-blond hair.

"Beside it being a love potion, it is also specifically designed to release the scents that one finds most attractive. The smell of it is different to everyone. My sister's dabbled with it a bit, and I know the smell as curry, incense, and organic hair gel." The boy stated confidently, blushing slightly as he admitted the smell aloud, and everyone's eyes shifted to the boy beside him: Simeon Till. The boy from New Delhi blushed, and glanced at the dirty-blond.

"Thank you, Mr. Brown." Draco said simply, a smirk on his face as the dirty-blond turned an even brighter shade as Simeon continued to look at him. He could vaguely remember his classes with the Gryffindors when Amortentia was being discussed, and how Ron Weasley had fallen enchanted by Lavender Brown - Jeremiah Brown's older sister's - potion. "Five points to Slytherin."

A collective noise of excitement was heard amongst the students at the mention of five points being added to their house, and from that moment on in the day, participation flew like the wings of an eagle.

~△⃒⃘~

After classes and before supper, Harry headed back to his quarters to drop off the mini-exams he would need to get graded before the next class. When he made it into his room, he was surprised to find a familiar blond leaning against the wall, waiting for him. He jumped a bit, which emitted a laugh from Draco, and then set his belongings down on his bed before walking over to his lover.

"How was work, dear?" He teased, and the blond wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, a smirk on his face.

"Great knowing I'd get to see you after class." He kissed along the messy-haired wizard's jaw, and Harry jerked his neck in response.

"We're gonna be late for supper." He whined, placing his hands on Draco's chest and pushing against him.

"So be it." The blond growled, unbuttoning his tie. Harry shook his head, grabbing his wrists firmly and stared at him seriously.

"No. We can't. Not right now. The students are already suspicious, and with us both missing supper, it'll only invoke further thoughts in their head. Not to mention, teachers are required to attend meals." He explained, pushing completely away from Draco and redoing his tie. He messed up, and the blond sighed, fixing it for him, muttering "tease" as he looped it again.

"I'm not a tease, it's just an inescapable matter. Believe me, I'd much rather stay here with you, but we have a duty." The blond only continued to pout at Harry, causing him to sigh again. "Let's make a deal. You come to dinner, preferably without touching and provoking me, and I'll take you somewhere special following curfew."

"But we're not on monitoring duties tonight." Draco claimed, confusion on his brow.

"Who says anybody needs to see us?" Harry smirked, walking towards his trunk and revealing his old cloak, to which Draco looked at in confusion until the green-eyed wizard draped it over himself, disappearing.

"By Merlin, how did you come across such a thing?" The blond asked, walking forward blindly and reaching for Harry. Harry, however, had tiptoed behind Draco and uncovered his head, pressing a hard kiss to the top of his spine, causing the blond's back to arch.

"My dad."

The two made their way to the Great Hall shortly after, and took their seats just as the feast began. McGonagall didn't have any announcements, and so the students were able to eat and talk freely. Midway through the meal however, the doors to the Great Hall burst open in a fashion similar to Quirrel in first year, and the room fell silent as an all-too-familiar blonde with curly hair strutted into the room, heels impossibly high on her feet, with a parchment and quill floating behind her.

"Rita Skeeter." Harry muttered, teeth clenching as her eyes met his inquisitively. In response, she only cleared her throat and smirked, quill already beginning to scribble rubbish onto the parchment.