From a Cradle to a Grave

Chapter 9

Hope's Pov

"You do realize how stupid you sound?" Draco says to me. We're sitting in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, where I've just told him what my first impression of Professor Aurora Vaughan was.

"She's not out to kill you. And who the bloody hell cares about the Muggle Studies professor, anyway?" he snorts.

"Shut up, Malfoy. I happen to like Muggle Studies," I say.

"Said no one ever," Pansy says, as she walks up from behind us.

I roll my eyes when she hooks her arms around Draco's chest and smiles at him flirtingly.

"And I don't get why Professor Burbage would just quit all of a sudden. Teaching us about muggles was a passion of hers. It doesn't make sense that she would retire-"

"Will you please stop talking?" Draco groans, interrupting me as he does so.

"Talking about the new professors, are we?" Blaise Zabini calls. He and Daphne Greengrass take a seat in the two chairs across from us.

"I'm just hoping the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor isn't a freak like the last one," Daphne says.

Everyone else nods along to her words, bluntly ignoring the fact that Lupin was the best Defense professor we've ever had.

I bite back a retort against Daphne, however, because I'm really not in the mood for a fight right now.

"Freya Mikaelson's her name, isn't it?" Blaise says.

"You know, I've actually heard of the Mikaelsons," Draco says.

I turn to him curiously.

"My father told me about them. Their family line stretches across for a millennium. They're best known in North America, but their family members are scattered all over the world. Apparently, their family is filled with dark witches," he finishes.

"A millennium? So they're a pure-blood family, then?" Pansy says in a tone of approval.

Great. So first, it was Professor Quirrell, a bloke who had You-Know-Who stuck to the back of his bald head. Next, it was Gilderoy Lockhart, a fraud who knew nothing about magic whatsoever. And now, we've gotten a stuck up pure-blooded dark witch as our professor?

Where does Dumbledore even find these people?

"Can we stop talking about our professors? I'd like to enjoy one last night of freedom before the school year officially starts," I say.

"Speaking of Quidditch," Blaise begins.

"I wasn't talking about-"

"Can you believe they're not holding matches this year? All because of that stupid Triwizard Tournament," Blaise cuts over my words.

"I don't know what Dumbledore thinks he's playing at, hosting a competition that's infamous for causing the deaths of students," Daphne snorts.

"On the bright side, it's just one more thing my father can add to the list of reasons as to why Dumbledore shouldn't be headmaster of this school. He's nearly got half the board on his side now, especially after that whole incident with Sirius Black escaping right underneath Dumbledore's nose," Draco says.

"Why do you care, anyway?" I ask Blaise. "I hadn't realized you were such a Quidditch fan."

"Blaise was planning on trying out this year," Daphne replies for him.

I let out a loud snort. "You? On the Slytherin Quidditch team?" I say.

I know I'm being more than 'a little bit' cruel, but that's what happens when one's forced into a conversation with a bunch of judgemental Slytherins! I have to adapt to fit in.

"Don't act all high and mighty just because Flint let you play one game last semester," Blaise scowls.

"As I recall, it was me who saved us from an utterly humiliating defeat. If it hadn't been for me knocking Wood off his broom, we would have lost by over two hundred points," I snap back.

"Beginner's luck," Blaise retorts.

I smack him upside the head so hard that he falls off his chair, and lands on the ground.

Both Daphne and I let out a surprised shriek, while Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle all roar with laughter around us.

"Bloody hell- Blaise, I'm so sorry," I say, staring at the blood that is pouring out of his nose.

Damn this stupid werewolf strength and temper of mine!

"Episkey," Daphne murmurs, stretching her wand out over Blaise's face.

The flow of blood slowly trickles to a stop, and Blaise sits up with a groan.

"I think I'm going to go sleep," I mutter, after making sure that Blaise is all right.

I sit down on my four poster bed. After closing the curtains all around me, I flex my fingers in front of my face, and will my hand to transform. My nails elongate into claws, and tufts of fur appear on my palm.

With a sigh, I turn myself normal again. I need to be more careful. I can't let anyone find out about my secret.