professor? ( ✓ )

chapter nine

'Dear Harry,

It's been so good to hear from you! I can't believe you're working with Malfoy. You two have been bonded together, and assigned to manage the Dueling Club? That must be hell! I'm doing well, and Hermione sends her love. I hope you can come visit for the holidays. Try not to get into too much trouble, will you?

Your friend,
Ronald Weasley'

  ~△⃒⃘~

Harry sat at breakfast one Wednesday morning in November reading a letter that his best friend had sent to him. It had been a little over a month since he'd last heard from Ron, so he found it nice to know that he and Hermione were well. He spooned oatmeal into his mouth, and took a swig of orange juice.

To his right, Draco was reading the Daily Prophet, a solemn look on his face, and Harry frowned as he noticed the blond's knuckles turning an even more ghostly shade of white. At the top of the page that he'd been reading, the headline read:

'Aurors Find and Capture Death Eater's:
The Zabini's'

He wanted to reach out and comfort Draco, as he knew how close he'd been to the Zabini family, but with as many eyes on them as there was, he didn't think physical contact would be the best idea for their reputations right now; the reputation of two men who were totally not in love with each other. And so, he took another bite of his oatmeal, and shifted in his seat so he couldn't see the blond, and wouldn't feel as guilty.

Breakfast ended not long after, and then it was time for the students to head to their first classes, meaning that the two youngest professors would no longer have to suffer in the same domain as the other for the time being.

Snow had begun to fall as winter quickly approached, and Draco decided that today would be the day he'd take his students outside to collect some roots that could only be harvested once the ground had frozen solid. As he looked out the window, he saw that the ground already looked pretty thick, and he figured by the time his group of fifth years came around, the temperature would've dropped further, and conditions would be perfect.

Harry taught a lesson on Winter Wind Spirits with a frown etched onto his lips. He was hopelessly curious as to how the Potions professor was holding up, knowing his best friend was locked away and being held by Dementors until further notice.

But maybe Blaise would be strong. Maybe he'd fight like Sirius, and hold onto his sanity no matter how often the Dementors plagued his mind with dread. Harry grasped to this idea firmly, for Draco's sake if nothing else.

  ~△⃒⃘~

At Draco's fourth and final class of the day - the fifth year Gryffindors - he found that the ground outside had settled and hardened perfectly, and that meant that it was the ideal time for the students to pick the Windy Winter Roots from
under one of the few old oak trees beside the Black Lake. So, he and his students bundled up and headed outside.

He cast a simple warming charm on his robes, hoping to preserve as much heat as he could, as these insolent Gryffindors would no doubt take a long time to figure out how to extract the roots from the ground without cracking the surface.

After twenty minutes of repeatedly explaining to the students how to keep the earth intact, the kids dressed in red and gold colors got to work, and Draco stood back, arms crossed, supervising. Lost to his thoughts, he felt himself slipping away to the summer, when he'd last seen his best friend: