Author's Note: I fixed this chapter on 8/6/08. It was brought to my attention that I hadn't looked it over very carefully and I was ashamed to see all the mistakes I had left. Most certainly there are a few left, but hopefully I have rid it of anything too horrid. Lol. I didn't change the story at all, just made some tense and sentence structure adjustments. Enjoy!
What was I thinking? I had my reservations about taking this new job, but this is just too much. I spent the last ten years deftly avoiding him, yet his green eyes still haunted my dreams, but at least I didn't have to see them in person. They were so much more potent in person. But here he was, his brilliant gemstone eyes boring into my thoughts, breaking through my carefully erected walls. Harry bloody Potter was here, in this room, and he was staring at me.
--
It was mid June when the scroll arrived. The small tawny owl tapped at my study window, and as soon as I saw the Hogwarts seal I almost sent it back without accepting the parchment. However, the ruddy bird had other ideas and bit me as I tried to close the window on it, so I grudgingly accepted the rolled up parchment, but refused to give it a treat. No one gets rewarded for biting a Malfoy.
I threw the scroll on my desk and stared at it for several moments before going back to my potions report. I had to get my current project completed, a cloaking potion for the Ministry, before nightfall. They would want to see my data in the morning.
The Ministry pays well enough, not that I do it for the money. As sole heir to the Malfoy fortune, it's not as if I was running low on Galleons any time soon. My main reason for taking on freelance projects for the Ministry of Magic was the unlimited resources, which are only rivaled by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The one place I swore I would never go again.
My eyes flicked again to the parchment. "Uhg, I'm never going to get any work done until I read that bloody letter," I groaned.
I reached out hesitantly and broke the seal. I could feel the residual magic waft over me, making sure I was the intended recipient. I must have passed the test, because a moment later words began appearing on the yellowed page in a tight neat handwriting.
Dear Mr. Malfoy,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. It has been brought to my attention the accolades you have earned in the area of potions as late. It so happens that a professorship has become available at our school, and we are hoping to hire a suitable replacement before classes begin in September. You were the first and highest recommended from Minister Shacklebolt, and I would like to extend the position of Potions Master to you before looking further.
If you would be amendable to a meeting with me, I would like to set up a time that would work best for you. I'm sure you remember our school well enough, though I'm also sure you will find the changes we have made over the last decade to your liking.
Please respond with a time in which we can meet.
Fond Greetings,
Headmistress
Minerva McGonagall
I sighed in exhaustion. A few years ago I would have jumped at this position, but now, I just wasn't sure. I had effectively separated myself from the school, from my past… and from Harry. I knew those walls would remind me of the stolen moment we had there, right before everything went to hell.
I shook off the thought. Harry was gone. No one had seen hide nor hair of the boy in years, though to be fair, I'm sure most people wouldn't even know him if they saw him. He left directly after the war ten years ago, and after a year or so the newspapers stopped covering his disappearance. It was just as well. Seeing the Boy-Who-Conquered on the front page of every newspaper and magazine got tiresome.
I let my thoughts wander, curious as to what he was doing, ten years later. No doubt whatever it was it was more exciting than developing a cloaking potion for the Ministry. Maybe this career change was exactly what I needed. I could surely still work on the potion in my spare time, and the change of pace might be just what I need to get out of this rut.
Yes, rut. My days here at the manor were nothing if not a bore, breakfast alone every morning, two hours in the laboratory and then tea with mother, two more hours in the laboratory, and then lunch alone. The evening was spent in my study until dinner, which occasionally would be attended by father as well, but usually just mother. After dinner I would read, or occasionally sneak out of the manor to watch a film. It was my single muggle indulgence, but even so, my parents would not be pleased. It also allowed me to keep up appearances.
In just a few short years I would be thirty, and that was the cut off for my 'youth-some expenditures' as father called them. I would be forced to marry someone of their choosing if I didn't select a bride of my own soon, someone befitting of the Malfoy name, and someone who would bare a Malfoy heir.
The biggest problem with that is that I couldn't possibly find someone I liked enough, let alone loved. Oh sure, there were plenty of available pureblood beauties that would beg for the opportunity to marry a Malfoy, however I wasn't attracted to a single one. The only person I have ever wanted is distinctly out of reach.
I've been focusing on forgetting Harry Potter for ten years, but nothing, not even the Gryffindor Golden Boy ghosting the corridors, was going to keep me from this job.
--
"It was kind of you to offer the professorship, Headmistress," I said with my most polite Malfoy smile.
She nodded and smiled tightly. "You came very highly recommended, Mr. Malfoy. We're only too pleased to have you here."
"The pleasure is all mine. I have missed this school more than I ever thought possible," I replied honestly. I had carefully avoided it for years, donating money for the rebuilding of the castle after the final battle, but not actually setting foot on the property.
Her slowly graying eyebrow shot up at the last remark. "Oh? I was led to believe that you would most likely turn the position own immediately. In fact, I was surprised to get your letter saying you would meet with me at all."
It was my turn to look surprised. My fear of Hogwarts was not on open display. Fear is a weakness, and part of my wanting to accept the position here was to overcome that fear. However, I had been cautiously hiding the phobia from everyone, saying nothing but good things about the school, there was a Malfoy wing, dedicated in my name for all the money I donated, for Merlin's sake. Who was slandering me? "Interesting, I never recall having any open animosity for the school. Can I ask who made such a suggestion?"
The Headmistress was immediately defensive, but hid it fairly well. "Oh, just a staff member here. They felt certain that by your lack of visiting the school, there was something keeping you away. Clearly that was nonsense."
I watched her as I nodded, and she didn't seem completely convinced. Who was this infernal staff member? "Clearly," I replied, certain that she wouldn't tell me, at least not at this juncture. Oh well, if I took the position here, I was sure I could figure it out on my own.
"Well, I am still very glad you agreed to this meeting, Mr. Malfoy."
"Please, call me Draco. Mr. Malfoy is my father," I said with a smile. It was true enough, I loathed being called Mr. Malfoy, it only reminded me of my upcoming responsibilities. It wouldn't be long until I truly deserved that title, as soon as I married and produced an heir.
"Very well, then you must call me Minerva," she replied, looking several years younger as she smiled. "You must let me give you the grand tour and then I can explain the professorship."
I grinned; this had been the moment I was waiting for. I was fairly eager to see all the changes that had taken place in my childhood school. "That sounds perfect."
We walked the castle corridors and chatted about our memories of how the school had been before. Not too much had changed structure wise, they were fairly careful to conserve the building and replicate the overall look of it. In fact, had I not been in the final battle, I wouldn't have known it had been damaged at all.
Still, some things were vastly different. The biggest difference was that the only place the founding houses now existed were in the school Quidditch teams. The year after the school was rebuilt, new students lined up to be sorted, but the sorting hat refused. Apparently during the war it had come to a decision that if Slytherin and Gryffindor had not been natural enemies, than the destruction would have been far less. I couldn't agree, but then I couldn't disagree either. Who knows what would have happened if the likes of, say for instance, Harry and I were in the same dorm room.
So now, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin were only Quidditch team names, and any student could try out for their favorite one. There was still rivalry, but it was healthier and well managed.
We rounded the corner, still on the ground floor and came up to the hospital wing. A slight witch, probably my age, was sitting in an office just inside the entry. She had her back turned to me, but she had very long chocolate brown hair and it was very wavy and a little wild looking. Minerva knocked on the open office door and cleared her throat. The young witch turned around and looked up at the Headmistress with a grin, then her eyes drifted to me and they went wide.
I'm sure mine must have looked quite large also, for I recognized her immediately, even after these ten long years. "Granger?" I sputtered. I was usually more eloquent than that, but this was a huge surprise. She looked exactly the same, yet different. She looked like a mature polished version of her seventeen year old self. She had already blossomed into a lovely girl by her final year in school, not that I would have admitted that to anyone, let alone her. Now, however, she looked older, wiser (which was saying something) and had an air of confidence that she didn't possess before the war.
"Malfoy," she responded. Her tone was polite but abrupt, and I wondered, not for the first time, if Harry had ever told anyone what had happened between us. "To what do we owe this honor?" she asked, not sounding like it was an honor at all.
Before I could speak Minerva answered her question. "Draco is entertaining the idea of becoming our schools Potion Master." As she spoke she shot Hermione a stern look, but it was matched by the younger witch, who somehow looked just as stern.
"I see. Does Har- professor Evans know this?" she asked, stumbling over her words. The look on the face looked incongruent with her mistake.
"Professor Evans gave me his approval to send the request to Mr. Malfoy," she replied. They had apparently decided to ignore me, which was usually unacceptable behavior, but I thought I might glean more information if I just stayed quiet.
"Minerva, you and I both know that he didn't think…" Hermione was cut off by a glare from the Headmistress that the younger Witch was unable to match. Apparently practice made perfect, and McGonagall had several dozen years on Granger in the 'glare' department.
"Well, we'll be off now. I just wanted to show Draco the hospital wing." Hermione only nodded but she lingered in the doorway until we turned and walked back down the corridor. A glance back saw her scurrying off in the other direction.
I couldn't think of a single person I knew with the surname Evans, let alone someone with that name who would be opposed to my working here. It all left an unsavory taste in my mouth. "Minerva, who is Professor Evans?"
She seemed to choke on something before she responded. "Oh, Mr. Evans is the Defense Professor, has been for several years now."
"Really?" That was news to me. I was under the impression that no one could hold the position for more than a year. "I thought, well, we were never able to keep a professor long in that course."
She nodded curtly. "Yes, Tom Riddle had cursed the position, but since his death, the curse seems to be broken."
"If you don't mind me asking, why would he bother cursing a professorship? That seems unusual, even for him."
"Oh, it was simple really, he wanted the position, and when Albus declined to give it to him, he cursed it. Foolish really, but so were a lot of things Riddle did." She like everyone else seemed hesitant to say the name 'Voldemort'. It was fine by me, I hated the name, made me shudder with the thought that I almost followed my father's foolish footsteps and became a Death Eater.
I didn't say anything further as we finished the tour. She explained the curriculum and the daily class schedule, the amenities and the pay of the position, which was actually more than I had expected. It seemed like an obvious choice to me; at least until I caught sight of a thin man, with messy black hair walking down a corridor, his back turned toward me.
"Harry," I whispered, more to myself, and turned to ask Minerva who it was. It reminded me so much of Potter that it made me feel ill. I must have looked it too, because when Minerva looked back to me she looked concerned.
When I looked back down that haunted corridor there was no one there. It was all I could do to refrain from smacking myself in the forehead. What was I doing here? This place terrified me. I couldn't accept the position, there was no way.
Though, if nothing else, that was the exact reason I had to accept the position. Potter was gone, probably dead, or off in America or something. I needed to get over this fear, and a year living in these halls could certainly do that. I could commit to a year, if it was still too much after that, then I could reassess things.
"Well Minerva, this seems to be just what I need. I think you have found yourself a new Potions Master," I said at last, hoping my voice wasn't breaking as much as I had suspected.
Her eyes lit up and her smile was suddenly genuine. "Brilliant. I'm so pleased, Draco."
We ended the tour outside the front entrance and she promised to send me the required paperwork via owl later in the month. I left, apperating back to the manor grounds and felt immediately better. Something seemed right about my decision, my new career. I felt like I was on the right path, finally.
--
Minerva made her way back into her office, quite pleased at Draco's acceptance of the position. The Minister practically sang his praises and she knew he would make an excellent professor, maybe even as good, or better than Severus had been. She also had an ulterior motive though, one concerning her favorite professor and previous student, and she only hoped that her meddling didn't backfire. Albus had done it all the time, but she was less trained in the ways of manipulation, and she would have to learn as she went along.
She stopped short as she walked into her office. "James, what are you… can I interest you in some tea?" she hardly ever lost her focus, but something about this man, sitting in an armchair across from her own desk, always made her flustered. Though he was an extremely powerful wizard it wasn't his power she feared, it was his feelings. She didn't wish to upset him, for she loved him like a son. She only had to keep reminding herself that what she was doing was in his best interest.
Her eyes flicked to the portrait of her predecessor, and she found herself wondering how many times Dumbledore had needed to remind himself of those same words.
The young man's eyes followed her gaze and he groaned. "I know that look," he started, "you're planning to meddle aren't you?"
She tried to look affronted, but that wouldn't have fooled him. "Draco accepted the position."
James' mouth dropped open in surprise. "Already? Just like that? What did you do?" he asked accusingly.
She did manage to look affronted then, though she had several things planned in the event that Draco did not easily accept the offer, but she didn't need to use a single one of her tactics; he had surprised her in taking the professorship at once. "I did nothing but make the offer. I'll be sending him the paperwork forthwith."
James looked at her incredulously. "Really? Does he know I'm here then?"
She shook her head curtly. "No, neither Miss Granger nor myself spoke a word, but you may wish to have a talk with Hermione, she almost said so right in front of him." She looked down for a moment before she continued. "Are you certain you don't want him to know? Harry, perhaps you have been in hiding for too long now."
He glared at her, but not wholeheartedly. "I just want to be left alone and he's the last person I would want to know I'm still alive. You know all this Minerva." Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"Don't you think it's a little late for that, he'll certainly recognize you the minute he arrives," she demanded, looking over the man in front of her, he looked exactly the same to her, but at her age, ten years was nothing.
"Doubtful. Draco hasn't seen me for ten years; I'm a bit different now. Plus, he was never that observant even when he did know me," he got up and walked toward the door, stopping only a moment to speak. "It's James Evans now, Minerva. No more Harry Potter and no more meddling." He shot her a playful glare and left.
She nodded ruefully and watched him leave. This would be a touchy case, but she was certain this would pull Harry out of the miserable place he had been burying himself all these years. Someone had to break through his walls, and from what she heard; Draco could be the one to do it.
Author's Note: Please review, and if you like this story please check out Gilded Soul (my other D/H fic, which as of today is complete.