Coping Mechanisms

12. Draco

Draco was excruciatingly aware of Hermione's presence all throughout Ancient Runes, even as he did his best to avoid her. He'd chosen a seat on the opposite side of the classroom, but even so, her silhouette would catch in the corner of his eye, ultimately (and unwillingly) pulling his focus back to her. Draco wasn't sure if she was purposefully avoiding his general direction, or if she was simply that enamored with Professor Babbling's teachings. Whatever the case, he was grateful for the unobstructed view.

She'd changed into her Gryffindor robes, and a simple pin held back an unruly strand of her bangs. She held a studious air, her scholarly mask set firmly in place. All of her emotions from the morning had been locked away, leaving behind the Hermione who wanted nothing more than to learn. Her hand rose to answer every question, like clockwork. But the part of his brain that had once wanted to mock her for being a know-it-all was silenced immediately. Draco fully noticed how eager she was, how genuinely excited she grew with each correct answer. Knowledge was a haven for her, and he no longer found her so condescending. Of course, this didn't lessen his loathing, but it did make her a little less insufferable.

Draco didn't see her much the rest of the day. She'd seemingly skipped lunch, leaving the golden trio to a golden duo at the Gryffindor table. He noticed the Weasley girl and Harry occasionally eyeing the door, expecting her to walk in. Ron continued his ignorant sulking, and Draco suddenly had the urge to punch his other cheek.

The urge hadn't faded by the time his last lesson came around. He walked into the Dark Arts classroom, and immediately felt Weasley and Potter shooting daggers at him from their desk. Draco rolled his eyes and took the open seat next to Blaise. Like a magnet, his eyes swept the classroom until they landed on a figure a few rows over. She sat with Neville, oblivious to both him, and Potter and Weasley, her focus straight ahead.

The door behind them breezed open, and every pair of eyes turned as Margot Blythe glided through the room. She was much taller than he'd anticipated, and even more graceful. If not for the footsteps that gave her away, she could have been floating.

"Good afternoon, class," she spoke with a faint but recognizable Irish lilt. Her sleek, metallic hair reached past her hips, and it reminded Draco of the Unicorns in the Forbidden Forest.

"My name is Margot Blythe, and as you are aware, I will be your new Professor of the Dark Arts. Though I'm quite positive a good amount of you don't need it." Her smile lingered on Harry. "Nevertheless, I'm to prepare you for your upcoming N.E.W.T.S." She pulled an ivory wand from her robes. "I believe the best way to do that is to see what you know already. I've heard your teaching has been quite varied." Her sapphire eyes returned to Potter. "You made quite the teacher yourself, didn't you?" Harry nodded hesitantly. "Better than that bird, Umbridge, I'm sure." Potter relaxed at that and returned her smile. "Would you kindly tell me what you'd been teaching?"

"Just some defensive spells mostly. And patronuses towards the end," Harry admitted.

"Ah, brilliant, lad!" she exclaimed. "What a good place to start."

Professor Blythe excitedly scanned the room. "Could I have you all stand up, please? I think we need more space."

"She's batty, she is," Zabini whispered next to him as they stood. Draco found her enthusiasm oddly charming.

"That's it! Everyone to the middle!" All the students gathered in the center of the room between tables, and Margot beamed once more. With an elegant flick of her wand, she effortlessly relocated the desks to the outskirts of the classroom, leaving them in the now spacious center.

"Much better," she sung. "Now, can anyone tell me the two different types of patronuses?"

Draco didn't even have to look to see who's hand shot up.