Defense

{2}

The next morning Harry woke up nearly ignorant of the day to come, but then he recalled Scorpius and his placement in the house of Gryffindor. Would Malfoy really show up if the boy had written him?

He slowly rose, casting a quick charm to navigate the time. His watch came to him soon enough, and seeing it was early eased him a bit. There was time still, and though all of his papers for the day were set, Harry wanted to double check.

Once dressed, he locked his quarters and started slowly towards the classroom that was like a second home to him. He had an office full of James' pictures muggle and magical, and a few artifacts his kids over the years had given him. This was the year all of his first-years from seven years ago would be leaving him, and Harry had already been approached by a few nostalgic students the day prior.

No one really seemed to be out just yet as he looked around, legally roaming the castle at an early hour. Even after all of his years of being a Professor, he still felt a bit of scandal in being in the halls when the sun wasn't shining.

Listening to the creaking of his door woke him up completely as he returned to his classroom--that of which he'd learned in himself. He clearly remembered Lupin showing them the boggart in this class, and he also recalled Lockhart's devastating run as Professor. Harry didn't even want to recall Umbridge's years, though she had been in a different hall as had Moody. Sixth year with Snape was in the same first-floor room as Quirrel's class had taken place, but Harry imagined he didn't want to be too far from the dungeons.

As he sat at his desk at the front of the class, Harry looked out over the empty desks. In just a few hours he'd be introducing himself to new students, and what fun he would have with them! First year Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't awful, but most of his students had to get over the shock of Harry Potter teaching them to realize it.

When Minerva McGonagall knocked on his door and gave him a knowing look, Harry couldn't say he was all that surprised.

"Malfoy?" He just had to know.

"Who else at the early hours of morning, Harry?"

Shaking his head, he held onto the Headmistress' arm as she apperted them to her office where a rather irate Malfoy stood, pacing. His hands were shoved into his trouser pockets, and Harry had to say he looked quite thin. Noticing them both, Malfoy raised his hands to speak.

"My son, a Malfoy, in Gryffindor! It's preposterous!" He steamed, "What on earth were you thinking letting him continue on, Headmistress! He must be resorted immediately!"

Harry wanted to laugh, he truly did, but he kept it in for now.

"You know as well as any, Mr. Malfoy that I cannot allow that. I haven't had a complaint from Scorpius, has he voiced any to you?" McGonagall asked stoically, sitting at her desk and staring out at the two wizards in front of her.

"No, he simply informed me of the mistake."

"There is no mistake, Mr. Malfoy, I assure you Scorpius is where he belongs."

"Like hell he is."

Harry sat down, tentatively watching and wondering exactly why McGonagall had called him here... then he remembered that he was head of Gryffindor and with Scorpius in his house, his presence at this impromptu meeting was mandatory.

"Now, Draco, if the boy isn't voicing any complaints, then we will be sure to take care of him in his house."

The man looked up and seemed to notice Harry for the first time, looking at him with a weary smile.

"I know he'll be taken care of... I just wanted to know why I guess," the Malfoy elder mentioned nonchalantly.

"What does his mother think?" Harry asked Malfoy, but he seemed to have stepped on a few tails with the looks Minerva and the protective father gave him.