Hot for Teacher (A Harry Potter Fanfiction--Dramione)

Scorpius...Poet and Artist

A couple of weeks into Scorpius's term, Draco received an urgent owl from Headmistress McGonagall.

Mr. Malfoy,

It is my most sincere hope that you are available to meet with myself, young Mr. Malfoy's head of house, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for a meeting tomorrow at 3:00. We must discuss certain of your son's behavior which is rather unseemly of late.

Please owl at your earliest convenience with your answer.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

What the fuck? Scorpius was a good kid. A much better kid than he had been when he attended Hogwarts. What could he possibly have done that would require Draco to attend a...parent/teacher conference?

Please, Merlin, let this have nothing to do with that slaggy girl he's smitten with.

___________________________________________

As Draco ascended the stairway to the Headmistress's office he felt like a first year boy once again, about to be slapped on the wrist for his bad behavior and given detention. What could Scorpius have done? He had a perfect record. He had never even had any house points removed from him. His grades were excellent. He was polite and well-spoken. Draco wasn't even certain how he'd winded up in Slytherin despite the fact that their family enjoyed a hefty legacy with the house. Honesty, that Potter-spawn he was always hanging around seemed a much more conventional Slytherin to him.

He approached the door and knocked.

Headmistress McGonagall opened the door to receive him. "Mr. Malfoy, so glad you could join us. Do come in."

She directed him to a chair opposite herself, Professor Slughorn (how the bloody hell was he still alive?), the now Head of Slytherin House, and...Granger? His eyes had to be playing tricks on him.

"You remember, Hermione Granger, don't you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"It's Professor Granger now, Minerva. I'd prefer if we kept up some sort of decorum at this meeting despite the somewhat uncomfortable reason for calling it."

Yep. It was definitely her. He bit back the quip he was dying to throw at her. Professor Granger. Glad to see you're still an insufferable swot. Although he had to admit...she looked good.

She was no longer that gangly, skinny little urchin he had teased throughout school. Her hair had tamed into smooth ringlets. Her skin was creamy and no longer possessed the pallor of one who never left the library. And she developed the sort of womanly curves that, had she possessed in school, Draco would have taken it upon himself to—

"We're here, Mr. Malfoy, because your son has appeared to have developed...inappropriate feelings for a member of our staff." Professor McGonagall brought the meeting to order.

Draco blinked. "You must be mistaken. My son fancies this girl who, while I don't completely approve—"

"Then how do you explain this?" Granger...he refused to refer to her as Professor Granger, handed him a folded piece of paper.

The note read:

Professor Granger,

I think about you all the time. I know many people will say that you're too old for me, but I've always been told that I'm very mature for my age.