Status: On a pause...
The Extra Professor
The Two-Way Traitor
Terror appeared on the faces of half the students when they saw what awaited them. Glee flooded the faces of the other half, which led to Draco thinking that the terror was caused by the broomsticks and not him. His own broomstick was held so tightly in his left hand that his knuckles were white. It had been a while since he’d ridden: he had associated very different memories with brooms after the fire in his final year. The lesson was as it had been in his flying lesson, Gryffindors and Slytherins; why they still taught the two together Draco had no idea. A few of the students eyed him nervously but for the most part they ignored the shadowy man standing beside their teacher.
“Right now, step up to a broom everyone.” Madam Hooch instructed. “Hurry now; don’t be afraid.”
A few of the Slytherins quickly strutted to clearly the best brooms there. Slowly, then in a sudden rush, the students took their places. A rather nervous-looking Gryffindor (he reminded Draco of Longbottom a lot) took up the final broom, the one with the most broken and bent twigs.
“All right everyone. Place your hand over the broom like this,” Draco demonstrated, following Madam Hooch’s instruction. “On my whistle, say 'up'. Like so.”
“Up.” Draco stated firmly. The broom shot up into its natural position in his hand. The Slytherins and the Gryffindors stared on with a mixture of admiration and envy.
“1…2…3.” Madam Hooch blew sharply on the whistle.
A chorus of ‘up’ began, with very little success. Only two people had got their brooms straight up on their first attempt: a cocky boy from Slytherin and a very surprised Gryffindor girl.
“Now on my command I want you to hover a few feet above the ground – no higher.” She blew the whistle again.
Immediately, one boy shot upwards, clearly out of control. Draco mounted his broom in preparation. The boy was spiralling high above their heads. He watched the boy’s expression change from amazement to fear.
“Mr Whittle, come down here at once!” Hooch yelled.
When he didn’t, Draco took after him. The rush was exhilarating and nearly put another smile on his face. Just a little ahead of him was the boy, who was beginning to gain some control over his actions. Seeing this, Malfoy yelled out to him.
“Just come down a bit Whittle!”
From across the grounds, up in Ravenclaw tower, a girl was watching the mid-air confrontation, completely distracted from the Charms homework lying on the desk. Her heart stopped for a second as the young boy’s broom lurched downwards. She almost fainted as the young teacher followed.
“Whittle come back here.” Madam Hooch bellowed from the ground. The boy made no change in direction. “Professor Malfoy, stop him!”
Inching closer to the boy, Draco eventually pulled him onto his broom holding his waist, just as Harry had once done to save his life. Grabbing the broom with his other hand, he lowered himself and the boy back to the ground. Madam Hooch rushed to Draco’s side and attempted to catch the eleven year-old before he fell to the floor. There was a crunch as he landed oddly.
“I shall take this boy to the Hospital Wing.” Madam Hooch announced. “Professor Malfoy is in charge. There is to be no flying until I return.”
Draco was lost so deep in his memories that the class was background noise to him. The flames reached far above their heads. Screams echoed before the death of his closest friend. He was certain he would be the next to go. The broom appeared from the smoky haze. Harry leant forwards, hand outstretched.
“Come and get me sucker!”
A shout from above broke his trance. A Gryffindor boy had ignored the no flying rule and taken off above their heads. His face looked strangely familiar but Malfoy had no idea why it would be.
“I told you I could fly.” The boy was gloating to his friends on the floor.
“Get back down here now!” Malfoy yelled, seething more at the lack of respect shown for him than the actual flouting of the rule – he had broken that rule himself he remembered.
“Or what?” A smirk was over the boy’s face as he mocked Malfoy.
Malfoy had had enough. “I am a teacher!”
“No you’re not.” The boy’s conviction was strong. “You’re a coward. My dad told me what you did. You couldn’t do anything right for either side. You’re a two-way traitor, just like that Professor Snape was.”
The final insult did it for Malfoy. Pointing his wand at the boy, he thought ‘levicorpus’ and the boy flew off his broom. Speaking aloud for the second spell, Draco called “accio broom,” and the broom flew towards him. He caught it casually and lowered the boy to the ground as Madam Hooch reappeared.
“Detention,” Malfoy announced loudly. “In my office on Friday afternoon.”
“But-” The boy interjected.
“Make that Saturday as well.” Malfoy smiled a twisted smirk. “I am a teacher and so was Professor Snape. You need to learn some respect for a man who was better than you can ever dream of being.”
High up in Ravenclaw tower, Asteria watched Malfoy’s anger flourish and remembered a painful event from her second year. Suddenly the new Professor didn’t seem so brilliant.
“Right now, step up to a broom everyone.” Madam Hooch instructed. “Hurry now; don’t be afraid.”
A few of the Slytherins quickly strutted to clearly the best brooms there. Slowly, then in a sudden rush, the students took their places. A rather nervous-looking Gryffindor (he reminded Draco of Longbottom a lot) took up the final broom, the one with the most broken and bent twigs.
“All right everyone. Place your hand over the broom like this,” Draco demonstrated, following Madam Hooch’s instruction. “On my whistle, say 'up'. Like so.”
“Up.” Draco stated firmly. The broom shot up into its natural position in his hand. The Slytherins and the Gryffindors stared on with a mixture of admiration and envy.
“1…2…3.” Madam Hooch blew sharply on the whistle.
A chorus of ‘up’ began, with very little success. Only two people had got their brooms straight up on their first attempt: a cocky boy from Slytherin and a very surprised Gryffindor girl.
“Now on my command I want you to hover a few feet above the ground – no higher.” She blew the whistle again.
Immediately, one boy shot upwards, clearly out of control. Draco mounted his broom in preparation. The boy was spiralling high above their heads. He watched the boy’s expression change from amazement to fear.
“Mr Whittle, come down here at once!” Hooch yelled.
When he didn’t, Draco took after him. The rush was exhilarating and nearly put another smile on his face. Just a little ahead of him was the boy, who was beginning to gain some control over his actions. Seeing this, Malfoy yelled out to him.
“Just come down a bit Whittle!”
From across the grounds, up in Ravenclaw tower, a girl was watching the mid-air confrontation, completely distracted from the Charms homework lying on the desk. Her heart stopped for a second as the young boy’s broom lurched downwards. She almost fainted as the young teacher followed.
“Whittle come back here.” Madam Hooch bellowed from the ground. The boy made no change in direction. “Professor Malfoy, stop him!”
Inching closer to the boy, Draco eventually pulled him onto his broom holding his waist, just as Harry had once done to save his life. Grabbing the broom with his other hand, he lowered himself and the boy back to the ground. Madam Hooch rushed to Draco’s side and attempted to catch the eleven year-old before he fell to the floor. There was a crunch as he landed oddly.
“I shall take this boy to the Hospital Wing.” Madam Hooch announced. “Professor Malfoy is in charge. There is to be no flying until I return.”
Draco was lost so deep in his memories that the class was background noise to him. The flames reached far above their heads. Screams echoed before the death of his closest friend. He was certain he would be the next to go. The broom appeared from the smoky haze. Harry leant forwards, hand outstretched.
“Come and get me sucker!”
A shout from above broke his trance. A Gryffindor boy had ignored the no flying rule and taken off above their heads. His face looked strangely familiar but Malfoy had no idea why it would be.
“I told you I could fly.” The boy was gloating to his friends on the floor.
“Get back down here now!” Malfoy yelled, seething more at the lack of respect shown for him than the actual flouting of the rule – he had broken that rule himself he remembered.
“Or what?” A smirk was over the boy’s face as he mocked Malfoy.
Malfoy had had enough. “I am a teacher!”
“No you’re not.” The boy’s conviction was strong. “You’re a coward. My dad told me what you did. You couldn’t do anything right for either side. You’re a two-way traitor, just like that Professor Snape was.”
The final insult did it for Malfoy. Pointing his wand at the boy, he thought ‘levicorpus’ and the boy flew off his broom. Speaking aloud for the second spell, Draco called “accio broom,” and the broom flew towards him. He caught it casually and lowered the boy to the ground as Madam Hooch reappeared.
“Detention,” Malfoy announced loudly. “In my office on Friday afternoon.”
“But-” The boy interjected.
“Make that Saturday as well.” Malfoy smiled a twisted smirk. “I am a teacher and so was Professor Snape. You need to learn some respect for a man who was better than you can ever dream of being.”
High up in Ravenclaw tower, Asteria watched Malfoy’s anger flourish and remembered a painful event from her second year. Suddenly the new Professor didn’t seem so brilliant.