Professors Who Gossip Together
Hermione watched Ginny disappear through the door of the Three Broomsticks. How could she do this to her? Leaving her alone with Malfoy was just about the biggest betrayal she could think of.
Across the table, Malfoy leaned back in his chair, entirely too pleased with himself. “Well, this is cozy.”
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. “You do not have to stay.”
He tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “Hmm. I could leave, but then who would keep you company? You did just admit that you enjoy having me around at mealtimes.”
Hermione groaned. “Actually, Ginny was the one that said that, I was the one complaining about it, Malfoy.”
“Draco.”
She blinked. “What?”
He smirked, taking a leisurely sip of his butterbeer. “If we’re friends now, as Ginny so enthusiastically claims, you really should call me Draco.”
Hermione stared at him, lips pressing together. “I don’t think I will. Besides, how many times do I have to tell you that we are not friends?”
“Oh, come on,” he drawled. “I call you Hermione all the time now. I’d say we’re well past surnames.”
Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. “That was your decision, not mine.”
He clicked his tongue. “Stubborn as ever.”
She gave him a pointed look. “Why are you even doing this?”
“Doing what?”
She gestured vaguely. “This! Sitting here. Talking to me like we’ve been mates for years. Casually accepting birthday party invitations. Merlin, why did you say yes?”
Draco grinned, resting his chin in his palm. “Would you rather I said no?”
Hermione hesitated. She couldn’t very well say yes, because then she would have sounded ridiculous and petty. He watched her flounder, clearly enjoying himself.
“I knew it,” he said smugly.
She glared at him. “Knew what?”
“Knew you’d be disappointed if I didn’t show up.”
Hermione let out a laugh of pure disbelief. “That is—without question—the most absurd thing you’ve ever said.”
He grinned wider. “And yet, you still haven’t told me to stay home.”
Hermione gritted her teeth, suddenly desperate for a distraction. She looked around for the waitress, as if she could wave this entire interaction away.
Malfoy, meanwhile, seemed perfectly content. “So,” he said in the most conversational tone imaginable, “What’s the plan for this famous birthday party of yours?”
Hermione exhaled sharply. “It’s not famous.”
“Ginny made it sound like the event of the century.”
“Well, Ginny is a menace. Something you both have in common.”
He chuckled. “You didn’t answer my question.”
She sighed, but at this point, resistance was futile. “It’s just a small thing. Friends, food, and some drinks. Very low key.”
Malfoy pretended to look disappointed. “No extravagant entertainment? No magical fireworks? No dramatic, over the top celebration to honor the ‘Brightest Witch of Our Age’?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you’re more than welcome to plan something elaborate for your birthday.”
He smirked. “Are you offering to come?”
She blinked, caught in her own words. “That’s not—” She exhaled sharply. “You’re impossible.”
“Yet, you continue talking to me.”
Hermione glared. “Don’t make me regret it.” She hated to admit that she was beginning to rather enjoy talking to Malfoy. Maybe they were becoming friends—not that he needed to know that.
Draco laughed. “Too late.”
—
Hermione was not waiting for him. She was absolutely not loitering outside the staff room after their weekly staff meeting. And she certainly wasn’t leaning against the stone wall, pretending to be engrossed in a report she had already read twice. Nope, she was simply… taking her time.
It wasn’t her fault that she had actually started to enjoy their conversations lately. She blamed Malfoy, really. His ridiculous insistence on acting like they were friends now, the way he had started slipping into easy banter with her, how he challenged her without the bite that used to be there. It was infuriating… and a little fascinating.
Which was why when the door finally swung open and he strolled out, looking unsurprised to find her there, she pretended not to be caught off guard.
“Hermione.”
She barely glanced up from her parchment. “Malfoy.”
His lips twitched, clearly annoyed that she was still calling him Malfoy. She tried not to show the enjoyment she got from getting under his skin. “Have you taken to loitering outside doorways? Or, were you waiting for me?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing away from the wall. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just—” She waved her parchment vaguely. “I was finishing up some notes.”
Draco, looking entirely unconvinced, hummed. “Ah, of course. A very convenient coincidence, then.”
She huffed but did not argue. Instead, she tucked the parchment away and fell into step beside him as they started down the dimly lit corridor. It had become a habit, really, them leaving places at the same time and walking together. It wasn’t planned, but it just seemed to keep happening. Sometime in the past few days, she had stopped minding.
“Did you see the schedule update?” she asked, because that was a safe, neutral topic.
“Yes, and I am convinced McGonagall is punishing me specifically. Who schedules a staff meeting on a Friday evening?”
“Oh, yes,” Hermione snorted. “Clearly, it’s a targeted attack. Next she’ll be coming for your hair care potions.”
Malfoy shot her a horrified look. “You laugh, but I wouldn’t put it past her.”
She grinned despite herself. This was the problem. This was the reason she waited outside the staff room like an absolute idiot. She liked talking with Malfoy. It was easy, it was fun, and it made her feel lighter inside. Somewhere between the snark, forced proximity, and his annoyingly dry humor, she had started enjoying this. And that was a problem, because she could never admit this to anyone, especiallyDraco Malfoy.
Pushing that thought away, she ventured to another relatively safe topic: their students. “Did you hear about Poults and Bells in the Astronomy Tower?”
Malfoy’s brows shot up. “Do I even want to know?”
Hermione giggled. “Caught in a broom cupboard after curfew.”
He let out a low whistle. “Rookie mistake. Always check Filch’s patrol schedule first.”
She gave him a ling look. “Should I be concerned about the level of expertise you have on this topic?”
He grinned, completely unrepentant. “Let’s just say that if I’d ever been caught, I wouldn’t have been caught in a broom cupboard.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Right, moving on.”
Malfoy chuckled, but let her continue.
“So now McGonagall is threatening to assign them both to Professor Binns for detention.”
He winced. “Brutal. They’ll be begging for manual labor by the end of it.”
Hermione nodded solemnly. “McGonagall said she wants them to suffer. And I quote: ‘If they have enough energy to sneak about after hours, they have enough energy to listen to a six-hour lecture on Goblin Rebellions.’”
Draco laughed, low and genuine. “Remind me never to get on her bad side.”
Hermione smirked. “Oh, I think it’s far too late for that.”
He mock-gasped. “Granger, I’ll have you know I’m one of her favorite professors.”
She snorted. “Right. You and your terrible influence on the students.”
He grinned. “Terrible influence?” Please, I merely teach them the practical applications of their education.”
Hermione arched an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Malfoy thought for a moment. “Well, I may have casually mentioned that if you brew a Calming Draught at double strength, it works wonders before exams.”
Hermione stared at him, scandalized. “Malfoy!”
He shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “It’s still technically within the curriculum.”
“It’s cheating!”
“It’s efficient.”
Hermione gaped at him. “You are why exam season is absolute chaos.”
He just smirked and kept walking, his hands in his pocket. “Come along, Granger. Don’t want to be caught loitering again, do you?”
With a mix of exasperation and reluctant amusement, Hermione hurried to catch up with him.
Ginny, I think we are actually becoming friends with him. I am starting to enjoy being around him. Help!