To Brew A Scandal by stars_in_motion

Chapter 15

- NOT MY STORY!! ALL CREDITS TO @stars_in_motion ON A03!!

Walking into one of the lowest levels of the Ministry, Hermione glanced over the directory that still held a trace of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission office on the last floor, scratched off but the letters still lingered. She straightened her spine and walked into the classroom, her cauldron and books stowed safely in her beaded bag.

Hermione could not hide her surprise earlier that morning to find Draco at the dining room table, eating an apple and sipping his tea as she stalked through the room, wanting to arrive as early as possible to the Ministry. He walked her to the Floo after a successful campaign to have her eat more than a simple slice of bread.

"Good luck," he said, already walking towards his office as she stepped into the fireplace. "Though I doubt you will need it."

There were a number of students already seated that she recognised from school, from varying houses, though there were fewer from Slytherin than any other house. The reason for that was mostly left unspoken. From what she could recall, no one else in the room held a title apart from her.

"Good afternoon, students!" A voice boomed from behind them. Every student turned towards the sound.

Horace Slughorn was a peculiar man. He was older than she expected, practically bald save for the small patch of hair at his crown, and his belly entered the room before his head did.

However he had managed it, the potioneer looked to have escaped unscathed by the war. As the Ministry lacked many trained professionals across multiple fields, he must've struck a lucrative deal in order for him to return to teaching.

"And that is how I find myself here, teaching your new and bright minds," Professor Slughorn explained. He then went down the list of registrants, calling out their names.

"Hermione Malfoy, Duchess of Wiltshire?"

It was strange to hear that family name attached to her first name, but she raised her hand with confidence. Another student, a man who had raised his hand at the name Marcus Flint, scoffed irritably. But Professor Slughorn only beamed at her. "Ah, yes, wonderful! And might I ask what your family name was before your nuptials?"

"Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger?" He seemed to roll the name around on his tongue, racking his brain around it. "Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, sir, not that I know of. My parents were both muggles."

"Ah, Hermione Granger, yes, of course! Your reputation for your potions work during the war proceeds you. You are also the good friend of Harry Potter, the Duke of Essex, is that correct?" said Professor Slughorn, completely unaware of her growing embarrassment. None of the other students had received such attention when he called their names.

"Yes, sir. He is a dear friend of mine."

"Splendid, splendid! My word, what an honour to have you in my class, your grace." He continued on with the attendance with Adrian Pucey, who was seated next to Flint, whose mouth hung open in shock.

They went over the basics of the curriculum, and the course schedule provided by the Ministry, along with a brief review of what they should already know from their previous studies. Hermione wrote down everything she could at lightning speed.

She did not realise how much she missed this; learning, note-taking, asking questions, and receiving intelligent answers. How ingredients could be measured, and potions could be brewed down to the last minute detail of perfection. A life embroiled in society was nothing like it. Others, like Ginny and Pansy, knew how to work society and crowds in ways that Hermione could never hope to understand. There would always be someone brewing a scandal, charming a naive fellow, or cursing an entire lineage of people in order to achieve whatever means to whichever end. But inside a classroom, life was always much more precise and predictable. Hermione could manipulate and work with a set of guidelines much better than a group of wizards. Now that she was married, there was no need to worry about the rest.