professor? ( ✓ )

chapter four

"Mr. Malfoy, it's so nice to see you in my office. First time this year, I believe." McGonagall smiled at the blond professor as he made his way into the place he'd been trying to avoid for years now. He gulped, and sat down in front of the headmistress nervously, picking his fingernails, and then frowning, as he'd never realized he did such weird things when nervous.

"Good evening, ma'am." He did a polite bow, and then allowed a neutral expression to cross his face.

"As I'm sure you know, I have meetings with my professors to make sure everything is going well in the classroom. Students are our priority here at Hogwarts, after all. Are you comfortable here?" The woman asked, folding her hands on the desk in front of her.

"Feels just like it did back when I was a student." Draco claimed, tight-lipped.

"And is that a good thing?"

"If you want an honest answer, McGonagall, I think it'd be best if you got yourself comfortable, because we might just be here all night." He meant it as an aggressive statement: signalling her to stop talking, but instead she shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward in her chair slightly, appearing more comfortable.

"Seeing as tomorrow's the weekend, a Hogsmeade weekend in fact, I believe the two of us have more than enough time. So, tell me what's on your mind." She stated, and his mouth opened slightly in surprise.

"I didn't think you'd actually want to listen." He admitted, a light pink tint crossing his cheeks.

"Why wouldn't I want to listen to a staff member? You matter here just as much as anyone else, Mr. Malfoy."

He sighed, crossing one of his legs over the other, and made himself more comfortable. Seeing as this woman was willingly listening to him, he figured maybe it'd be nice to talk a bit.

"Not to sound like a prat, but I miss my mother. My father's in Azkaban, and my mother's all alone. It's not very fair to her, in my opinion. She lost her husband to the Ministry, had her sister murdered, and now her son's far away, teaching some privileged little brats at a school that her son had complained to her multiple times about. I've got practically a toy wand, seeing as I'm so limited to what it can do. Sure, I'm teaching a subject I'm quite fond of, but I'm in my deceased godfather's realm, and am reminded of him every day. Where I rest my head is where he used to. The students all hate me, and favor perfect little Potter. Everyone favors him; even you favor him. I feel alone, and I cannot believe I'm telling you this because that's just rubbish that I'm trusting a bloody Headmistress with my troubles. This is pathetic, I'm pathetic." He sighed, concluding his rant and placing his head in his hands. The Headmistress frowned, and contemplated brewing him some tea. The more she looked at him, the more exhausted he looked.

"Mr. Malfoy, you know you could trust me with anything alright? It helps to get this stuff out from time to time, and you definitely sounded like you needed it. You're not pathetic. In fact, if I'm quite honest, you sound like most professors during their first year teaching here. Everyone has insecurities, and you sound like you've had yours suppressed for far too long. And if you feel like you cannot trust me with such information, I'm sure someone else can understand where you're coming from." She stated, feeling incredibly sorry for the boy.

"I hope you're not suggesting I start sharing all my deepest, darkest secrets with Potter." He sneered, and the woman smirked.

"That was not what I was insinuating, but if that's the path in which your mind decided to take, maybe it wouldn't hurt to talk to him."

"In case you haven't noticed, Professor, Potter and I despise each other. We could never be friends. That's absolutely ridiculous!"

"If that's what you'd like to believe, so be it. Now, was there anything else you'd like to discuss, because if not, I believe the kitchen elves are preparing a roast tonight, and I'd quite like a portion or two of that." She smirked, and the blond shook his head.