Summary: Hermione Granger comes to Hogwarts to teach a much needed Biology curriculum to the students. Draco Malfoy, the Potions teacher, doesn't approve of the sex ed. A bet ensues. Who will come out victorious?
Chapter One: A Bet
~"The Good, The Bad and The Dirty" by Panic! At The Disco
The pitter patter of Hermione Granger's shoes as she stepped up the front steps of Hogwarts matched the nervous beating of her heart. It had been years since she had seen the school in all its grandeur. As she approached the looming sight of the front doors, anxiousness spread across her chest, up her neck, and into her jaw. She clenched it, breathing through her nose and reminding herself that she had nothing at all to be nervous for.
As if sensing her presence, one of the towering wooden doors opened on its own to her, and Hermione stepped inside with bags in hand. The school smelled of holiday peppermints and thick pine trees -one of the perks of arriving at Christmas holiday, she supposed. She sat her bags down for a moment, inhaling deeply through her nose. Aside from the festive smells, there was also the scents of books and stone and learning. It eased her mind, and she was able to shake out her nerves with some waves of her arms.
Argus Filch approached her from a side hall with a lantern, a foul glare written across his tempered features. "Ah…" he said, bringing the lantern down to his side. "Professor Granger, is it? Haven't seen you in quite some time."
"Hello." Hermione waved her hand gleefully. "Headmistress McGonagall should be expecting me-"
"-Yes." Filch said crossly, interrupting her. "She told me to escort you to your quarters and tell you she'd be out until tomorrow evening." He brushed a bit of his stringy hair out of his eyes and brought the lantern out between them. "Well, come on then. Haven't got all night, have I?"
"Right." Hermione reached down and grabbed her bags, thinking to herself that aside from a bit more gray in his hair, Filch hadn't changed a bit. She followed him down the hallway, eyes scanning whatever the light of his lantern illuminated as they traveled. Hogwarts hadn't changed, really, in all of the seven years she had been away. As she followed Filch up a changing staircase, she attempted a bit of small talk. "So, should I expect the students to be rather rowdy this term?"
Filch made a sound somewhere between a laugh and an airy squeak as he climbed the steps, back to her as he spoke. "The children are always brats, Professor. If I had my way, we'd be hanging them all up by their toes. As it is, remember that a good bout of detention does the trick to keep them in their place."
Hermione wanted to comment on the 'toes' suggestion to say that it was practically barbaric, but thought against it at the last moment. She might need Filch on her side later on, and calling him ignorant might put a damper should she need a repair to her classroom quickly.
They arrived in a small wing near the stairs leading down to the Slytherin dorms. At the end of the hall, a thick flight of stairs curled upwards in a spiral until it led to an old, wooden door with a black metal handle. "Since you're not a permanent teacher, we couldn't give you as large of a living quarter…" Filch told her, almost pleased with himself. "Up there."
"Of course… classes start back up tomorrow, yes?"
"Well… thank you very much, Argus." Hermione took to the stairs as Filch hobbled on down the hallway until the light of his lantern was no longer in sight. When she got to her door, she glanced once down the staircase illuminated by the moon all the way to the steps leading down, down, down into the Slytherin dorms. It made her a bit uneasy, being so close, but… oh, it was only a Hogwarts House, for crying out loud. She turned the handle to the door, stepped inside her quaint room, and set her bags down. Yes. She could do this. It was only for a semester…
The first day of lessons had gone over well for the better part of the morning. Biology basics with the first years had been quite fun; she made the educational skeleton in her classroom dance around singing each of the bones in its body to the tune of London Bridge is Falling Down. She would have second and third years tomorrow, which meant that the class dedicated to her afternoon session would be fourth years, which brought up a very touchy curriculum. This was the entire reason McGonagall had asked her here in the first place; to educate the… hormonal teenagers to understand their bodies and how they work, in an effort to reduce the risk of sexual escapades in the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When the Headmistress had approached her, Hermione had been quite satisfied with her position as lead Healer at St. Mungos. But once McGonagall had explained the new reform to incorporate certain extra curriculars, such as higher level Math, English and Sciences, Hermione could hardly refuse the opportunity to help. The pay wasn't as important as the lesson: perhaps if witches and wizards understood their bodies a bit more, there wouldn't be such an overabundance of young pregnancies.
"Understanding your body!" Professor Hermione Granger said enthusiastically, holding up a freshly bound Biology 101 book to her fourth year students. "This is an essential part of any young adult's growth and development. Headmistress McGonagall has asked me here this semester to teach you about the biology basics. About your body's changes," A few boys in the room sniggered under their breath, "And about what to do should you catch yourself acting on your hormones. In short- this will be a health class."
A young boy with sandy blonde hair and Slytherin robes stuck his hand up in the air.
"Yes? Mister Renaldo, wasn't it?"
"Yes, ma'am." Renaldo set his hand back down. "So… are you going to teach us about sex?"
Hermione Granger's face blanched. "That… is a subject that we will touch briefly on, yes."
"Cool." Renaldo smirked.
A Hufflepuff girl with curly hair much like Hermione's meekly drew her hand into the air. "Yes? Miss Fitz?"
"What was your profession before teaching?"
"A Healer. I still am." She smiled sweetly. She waved her wand theatrically, and before each student a small, velvet bag appeared in front of them. "Right. Let's start off with a pop quiz! Each one of you have been given an item in your bag. I'd like you to pull it out, identify it, and explain its purpose! If you don't know, or are unsure, that is perfectly acceptable. I would like you to try your hardest, even if some of the items are unfamiliar to-"
"Bloody Hell!" A red-headed boy shouted as he waved a brassiere up in the air. "I've hit the jackpot!"
The room burst out in a fit of nervous giggles and unabashed laughter. Hermione simply kept her cool smile perched on her face and nodded once. "Mister Hammond, why don't we start with you? What item did you receive in your bag?"
"I got a bra," Jeremy Hammond smirked, waving it in his partner's face (a small, wispy girl with white blonde hair by the name of Sarah Tumlin).
"Yes. You received some undergarments." Hermione acknowledged. "What is its purpose?"
"I… I don't think I should say…" Hammond replied, his face turning beet red.
The young man named Renaldo was oh so eager to answer, throwing his hand up into the air and waving it vigorously. When Hermione called on him, he clasped his hands to his chest in a mock fashion and answered, "They're to protect the boobies." The boys, and a couple of girls, sniggered behind their books.
"Breasts," She corrected him, "They're called breasts. And they're not for protection, Renaldo. They're for support. Honestly, what would breasts need protection from?"
The meek girl, Sarah, raised her hand. "Professor Granger… are you… allowed to speak this way? It's a bit informal…"
"Talking about the body is nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Tumlin, I assure you. The more open you are to talk about it, the more educated you will become, and the better decisions you will make in regards to your personal body. -What did you receive in your bag?"
Sarah reached in and pulled out a tiny square shaped bit of foil. "I… I'm not sure…"
"That is a condom." Hermione reached out and plucked it from Sarah's grasp, holding it up into the air for the class to see. "How many of you are familiar with this?" A few of the muggle born students raised their hands, and possibly one or two from the half-blood group. Hermione sat the condom back down in front of Sarah and said, "A condom is a form of protection used in safe practices of intercourse."
"Heh, she said 'intercourse,'" sniggered a pudgy boy in the back.
"Oh, grow up," said his partner, a dark haired girl with pigtails and stunningly blue eyes. "Honestly, Liam, you possess the emotional capacity of plastic dinosaur." The girl stood up and offered out her item; a sign that read 'no means no'. "I'm Lidia Penelope Cornelia. I received a sign that says 'no means no', which is in reference to when a boy or girl wishes to stop any type of act, sexual or otherwise."
Hermione's mouth fell open for a moment, taken aback. She was reminded of herself as a young girl and had to stifle a giggle into her hand. "Very good, Miss Cornelia. You may be seated."
Penelope looked thoroughly pleased with herself as she took her seat and began to scribble notes onto her parchment.
"I'd like everyone to take the rest of the class to analyze the items in your bags and give me a one page report on your analysis. Parchments will be due by the end of class, and you are more than welcome to work with your partners."
As the class set to work on their tasks at hand, pulling parchments out of their bags and dumping the contents of their bags to the tables, two Slytherin girls in the back were sniggering as they observed their contraceptive potion. They had no idea that as their professor was circling the class to observe, she could overhear their giggling conversation.
"Do you think our new Potions professor would teach us this in his class?"
"He can brew my potion any day."
"He's so dreamy…" The one with lighter hair set her face in her hand and prodded the potion with her finger. "I call dibs."
"You cannot call dibs, Tabitha. He's at least ten years your senior."
"Oh, I highly doubt that. Have you seen his dreamy eyes? They're so youthful. No, I doubt he's that much older than us."
Hermione stopped behind them, pretending to observe her clipboard, but in truth she was enticed by their conversation. While these two were much too young for a handsome potion's professor, she herself was a sexually active (and deprived) adult. She hadn't met a single other teacher since she arrived (Headmistress McGonagall planned to introduce her tonight at the evening feast), so she was actually quite anxious to hear about her fellow Professors. Especially if they were handsome. Heaven's bells… she needed to get out more.
"Do you think they're naturally that silver? Or do you think he wears contacts?"
That should have been the first tip off. She would realize that later when she sat in bed and played over her first day in her head. But now, in the moment, it didn't dawn on her to whom they were referring. She simply listened as she checked off imaginary checklists on her clipboard, which really only carried a blank piece of parchment.
"Well, that hair has to be dyed, don't you think? Or maybe a potion?"
"Who cares? I heard he's single!"
Lidia Penelope Cornelia turned around in her chair and glared at the two girls. "Professor Malfoy isn't interested in curds like you two. Now if you'd kindly shut it, I'm trying to work."
There was a slow crawl of the chills that crept up Hermione's back until they hit the back of her neck. She was sure she had heard incorrectly. No. She hadn't heard Professor Malfoy. Perhaps it had been Professor Altoy. Or Maldoy… one could dream, couldn't she? Or maybe there was another Malfoy family that she had never heard of who possessed silver eyes and startling hair?
She'd have to assess the situation first hand at the banquet tonight.
After Professor- correction, Headmistress McGonagall introduced Hermione to the entire Hogwarts Castle, she was quite perturbed to see that the Potions teacher was, in fact, Draco Lucius Malfoy, the same blonde haired, arrogant twat from her days of education in this very school. Oh, how history loved to repeat itself she thought idly as she stabbed at a bit of potatoes on her plate between Neville Longbottom, who had taken residency as the Herbology teacher, and Professor Trelawney, who she most certainly didn't give any real merit to as a Professor. It would be fitting that the same boy who favored his former Death Eater Potions Professor would follow in his footsteps…
"It's great to see you again, Hermione," said Neville, digging into his meat and potatoes medley on his plate. Malfoy -or, she corrected herself, Professor Malfoy, sat on the opposite side of Neville, ignoring most of the other staff and pushing around some carrots on his plate as if they disinterested him. When Hermione had been presented to the school, he had been the only professor not to stand for her.
"Great to see you too, Neville. Or should I say, Professor Longbottom?" She gave him a large smile and nudged him in the arm playfully.
Neville gave her a softening, half-hearted grin back and whispered, "Actually, I just have the students call me Professor L. -Longbottom tends to be a subject of humor amongst the younger ones, and it gets a tad old after a while."
"Can't imagine why…" came the lulling, monotone voice of Malfoy, speaking for the first time this evening, and really, the first time in seven years for Hermione. She leaned forward at the table and careened her eye line towards him, giving a predisposition scowl. Malfoy was still staring at his plate when she responded.
"Well, I see that you're still you're charming self."
She watched his profile as he stared down at his plate, the sides of his lips curving up into that infamous smirk he had been known for. He didn't train his eyes away from his food, but he did manage to reply, "Still standing up for the pathetic, I see?"
Neville's back went ridged, but he turned his face to Hermione and said simply, "Ignore him. We all do."
Malfoy grinned, but said nothing. Hermione glanced around to McGonagall a few seats down and back to Neville's table mate. So much for being interested in the new Potion's teacher…
Two weeks later
"Professor Granger, would you care to explain what it is exactly that you're teaching in your classroom?"
Hermione forced a smile on her soft lips, staring up from her desk at her once childhood foe and set down her quill. "Excuse me?"
"Don't try to feign innocence with me," he said, slamming down a copy of her in-class text book and turning to page 103. His long index finger slid over the sketch of a naked woman with her internal organs diagramed in the corner of the page. "I caught one of my students reading this in my class today. So what filth do you think you're trying to bring into this school, Granger?"
Her eyes trailed over the image as a smirk quirked up in the corners of her lips. She glanced up at his silver-blue eyes as her own danced with amusement. "It's called the human body, Professor Malfoy. Honestly, if we had my sort of classes back when we were in school, perhaps you wouldn't be asking me silly questions like this." She slammed the book shut on his finger, and he withdrew it with a hiss of breath. He brought his finger up to his lips, suckling on the tip as blood rushed to his injured finger.
Professor Malfoy (or just Malfoy, as Hermione associated him in her mind) had hardly aged since their years in Hogwarts. His hair was still that white-blonde that the Malfoy family wore with pride. His eyes had darkened ever so slightly, and perhaps the corners of his lips had thin laugh lines that hadn't been there in his youth, but his skin was still that ivory cream with hardly a blemish, and his body was still that wondrous slender frame. Maybe a bit taller… but that happened to most men around their twenties, so she shouldn't be surprised. But it did surprise her at how handsomely he wore that heinous scowl as he plucked the book back from off her desk and held it like it was a dragon-pox riddled blanket. "You're a biology class. You shouldn't be teaching children about… this."
"What? Their sexual organs?"
Hermione bit down on her tongue to keep from laughing. "Look, Malfoy… Children need to learn these things. If they don't, they might not understand the consequences of what happens when they use said organs in their teenage hormonal states."
Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Does Headmistress McGonagall know you're teaching this sort of filth?"
"Actually, she's the one who approached me to teach it," she replied haughtily, her amusement turning to annoyance as she rose from her chair and squared up his glare with her own. "Don't tell me you don't approve?"
"Of course I don't. Especially when your curriculum distracts students from learning anything of substantial importance in my classroom."
"Oh, because children learning about their own bodies is far less important than how to brew a headache potion? You know, in the muggle world, we just take a Tylenol."
"A what?" Malfoy squished up his face in confusion. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed her last sentence. "You know Potions is a far more important life lesson."
"Says the entire wizarding world!"
"Really? I'll have you know I was a Healer before this. And do you know what saved lives? Understanding the human body."
"Understanding an erection saved someone's life?" He smirked. "Yes, I'm sure that's a valid story. Oh, wait. No, I'm quite sure that's never happened."
"What is it I can help you with this evening, Professor Malfoy?" Hermione sighed. "Or did you simply come here to belittle my curriculum?"
She blinked. "Well… if you'll excuse me." She gathered up her paperwork from her desk, slipped them into her briefcase, and stepped around her desk. She brushed past him, brushing shoulders and knocking him off balance.
He caught himself, straightened his posture, and called back to her, "I never took you for a pervert back in school. I suppose the timid ones are always full of surprises."
The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck hackled, and she turned on her toes, swinging her briefcase in tow to stomp back to him, leaving only inches of space. "Alright, Professor Malfoy. If you're so intelligent, what, pray tell, should a student do if she finds herself in a classroom in the middle of the day and she starts her menstrual cycle? Care to share with the classroom?" Malfoy's face blanched, his eyebrows quirking up in a mixture of horror and confusion. "Oh? Don't have an answer? Alright, let's try again. What should a young man do if he finds himself without the ability to brew a contraceptive potion and is in the company of a young lady he plans to have intercourse with? And in that case, would you care to explain a condom and how it works?"
"I-I…" Malfoy backed away, red tinting his cheeks. With satisfaction, Hermione stepped closer. She knew Malfoy was no prude -the rumors back in their sixth year confirmed that he enjoyed a sexual romp as much as any other sexually charged sixteen year old, but she knew he had been raised by the old ways. The pureblood ways, where discussing sex in a chat was not done unless it was with the person you planned to be intimate with. She knew that in this moment, she had him cornered by a discussion that would make him squirm, and it thrilled her. She could silently feel the justice for all of those years of taunting her, Ron, and Harry coming to fruition.
"Is that too complicated? I'll give you one more chance. Give me the definition of an ovary and its purpose."
With a scowl, Draco Malfoy pursed his lips and crossed his arms. "Are you quite through?"
"Hardly." She wore her victorious smile well as she mirrored him and crossed her arms as well. "And you didn't answer the question."
"That's because I don't need to prove myself to you."
"Or perhaps it's because you cannot."
"Look. I simply came here to tell you that if I catch my students reading your dirty textbooks in my class again, I will give them all detention. So perhaps you should think about finding a new way to teach children about their bodies appropriately."
Hermione laughed shrilly. "My curriculum is appropriate. The only one that doesn't see it that way is you. Funny, I never took you for much of a prude."
His eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. "I assure you, Granger. I'm no prude."
"I beg to differ," she said, jutting out her chin and standing her ground. "The only other person I've ever seen get so flustered by my lessons is Ron. And believe me, he was quite a prude."
His mouth fell open, and his eyebrows shot up. "How dare you compare me to Weasley?"
"Well, what else am I supposed to do when you react the same way?" She shrugged in show. "You seem to think your old ways are the only ways, but I guarantee you they are outdated. It's probably why you haven't found yourself a wife," she nudged down to his ring barren left hand, "on account of not understanding her… sexual needs in the bedroom."
He snorted, glancing down at her hand. "You're one to judge. I don't see a ring on your finger either." Malfoy picked at an invisible speck of dirt at his robes and uncrossed his arms. "Alright, Professor." He seethed the word, as if he most certainly didn't believe she deserved the title. "Let's make a wager then, shall we?"
Hermione's heart jumped. The way he was smirking would have made anyone's leap out of their chest; it was full of deviance and cunning intentions. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. "Alright. What sort of a wager?"
He chuckled, low and deep from the back of his throat. "Let's let the students decide who is the better teacher."
She felt the balloon in her chest deflate. "And how do you expect to do that?"
"You continue this… circus performance you call a curriculum. Teach them about your silly 'condons' and 'ovaries'-"
"Condoms." She corrected him.
"Yes, yes. All that. And I'll teach them the 'old ways' as you call it. We'll test it out on the older students -the fourth years and up. And by the end of it, we quiz them on which information they retained. I guarantee you, they'll retain the magic a lot more than the whole muggle bit you think is so important."
It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "Oh, please. I'd mop the floor with your curriculum. Not everything about the human body can be validated with a potion."
He rolled his eyes. "Well, I suppose if you're too afraid…"
"I am not afraid." She looked him once over and inhaled. "What does the winner receive?"
"What are you willing to lose?" He smirked, shrugging. "I dunno. How about whomever wins at the end must grade the other's papers for a month?"
Hermione grinned. "I rather like that idea. It would be so fun to watch you grade papers on a woman's menstrual cycle."
The red tint flushed up his cheeks once again, but he ignored it and jutted his hand out to her. "So we have a deal, then?"
She glanced down at his hand, and back up to his silver flecked eyes. Against her better judgement, she grabbed it and shook. "Very well. Deal."
Hope you enjoyed this first chapter! This is going to be a comedic bit. There will be lemons (in time.) Please let me know what you thought! Special thanks to LightofEvolution for the plot idea! *hearts*
Please make sure to follow for chapter updates!
If you like this work, please check out my completed stories (which are a tad different) called "Drinking Buddies" and "How To Train Your Auror."