"Hi, Draco."

They had taken to sneaking minutes between classes in vacant classrooms for a quick laugh or a chat – there was something so exciting in seeing each other like this. Flushed with the adrenaline of evading the rest of the school and feeling bubbled up in their own world. Almost as though the run in with Harry had never taken place. Almost.

"How's our jealous little friend doing?" Draco asked, smirking as he picked at her books and pored over her notes absentmindedly.

"He's not jealous – you know the reason why he's so–"

"It's probably due to the stick up his–"

"Draco!"

"I was going to say back. A ramrod straight back. Can't take a joke. No room for humour."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, "Be that as it may, he is entirely entitled to being–"

"A pansy." Draco interjected gleefully. "Harry Potter, the boy who is really a girl."

Hermione jumped at the opportunity: "What is going on with Pansy? Did she strike a nerve with her chat about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

The final sentence slipped out before she could stop herself and all she could do was wait to hear his reply.

"First of all, I doubt it is any of your concern–"

Before giving him a chance to finish, Hermione quickly took control of the conversation, "Then I don't see how it is any of yours how Harry is doing either."

There was a bite in her voice that was never there before.

"Then why don't you spend more time with him, rather than dodging shadows with me?" He hissed back and made his way out of the classroom. It wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. The laughs and playful banter had given way to something serious and heavy and he wasn't pleased with how it turned out.

What was it about women?

"I suppose I will," came the scathing reply, not a moment too late as he was just within earshot, but he missed the next few words as the blood rushed into his ears.

Draco was not about to lose sleep over that snobbishly opinionated little girl. Girls always become more trouble than they are worth, making a fuss out of thin air and losing their minds over virtually nothing. He will not have any of it!

The Slytherin stomped around the schoolyard, not wanting to return to the dungeons and surrounding himself with the same old boring crowd. Least of all Pansy, who would be lurking in the common rooms, waiting for a bit of his attention. He continued sighing and banging his feet on the bricks of Hogwarts but could not seem to find a suitable place to brood.

"What is the matter, Mr. Malfoy? That's the third time I've seen you go past." An unpleasant voice asked.

"Never you mind." Draco grumbled without looking to see who it was.

"Five points for rudeness." Professor Selgentar said, to his displeasure.

Draco was too conceited and heated to fight for his house points and sulked off, but he had only taken a few steps when the young professor beckoned.

"Wait," She said in a honeyed voice.

He had half a mind to ignore her, but her sudden change in demeanour stopped him. He figured it wouldn't hurt to spare one bloody half look over the shoulder and he did. Barely even catching her in his field of vision, focusing on the floor instead and he waited for a heartbeat.

"I know you father," She purred, "But I could hardly show favouritism in class, could I, now? I'm sure someone from a stock as pure as yours understands."

Of course the spoilt boy hadn't the slightest clue as to why it would matter; favouritism is a Malfoy perk after all, but he understood flattery. He turned to face her and waited some more.

"We both share the same allegiance." She whispered to the air, taking a few steps closer to him.

"If that were true, you wouldn't have taken five points." Draco retorted instinctively. There wasn't the slightest bit of sincerity in his words. He couldn't care less for trivialities like House points.

A smile split on Selgentar's face at this and she said, "Ten points to Slytherin for assisting a professor."

"But you mustn't think I can extend that courtesy in every situation, Draco." She glided past him and whispered in his ear, "Now, come into my office and we can continue."

Her words and breath sent a shiver down Draco's spine.

First Pansy, then Hermione, now the professor. Women are such a mystery, sometimes. But he had nothing better to do anyway and conspiring sounded a lot more fun than the sulking he had originally intended to do. Hearing his name being spoken with such familiarity made him slightly uncomfortable, but he slunk into the professor's office anyway, noting how bare it is – no personal effects whatsoever. Just the generic bookshelves, quills and compulsory school books and parchments.

"Have a seat," Professor Selgentar offered but Draco remained passive in the doorway. "I insist." She said more forcefully, flicking her wand and slamming the door.

He was beginning to think it was a mistake leaving the corridor. Left with no choice, he made his way towards her table and eased himself into an uncomfortably hard chair, not unlike the ones he had at home. His mother had always been fussed about his posture and his father agreed that how a man carried himself is more important than how comfortable he was.

"How do you find the lessons this year, Draco?" Her words made him uneasy, but he swallowed it with grace and answered curtly.

"Very good."

"Which would you say is your favourite lesson?" Now it was simply awkward, but she didn't seem to care for his answer. Instead, she was busying herself with organising a sort of tea, conjuring a teapot and cups out of thin air.

She set a platter of biscuits and a mug filled with peppermint tea in front of him and leaned against the table, her legs just by his right hand. Realising for the first time how young she looked, the proximity made him draw his hand into his lap while he answered, "Er, potions. Professor."

He tacked on her title at the end as though reminding himself – and her – of her place at the institute.

"A-and yourself?" He asked, fumbling for the politesse his mother had instilled in him for important guests or friends of his father. "I mean, how do you find Hogwarts?"

"Oh, it is lovely! Never in a million years had I expected to walk within these walls." Her voice sounded wistful.

Forgetting that she was a teacher and him a student, he asked brusquely, "Did you not come here as a student?"

"Oh no, dear boy. No no no no. I grew up far, far away. But I did not invite you here to talk about me, no, I thought it would be an opportunity to familiarise myself with Lucius Malfoy's beloved, darling son."

This unsettled the Slytherin even more, his eyes darting towards the door and racking his brain for something to excuse himself with. Instead, he found himself saying with a weak chuckle, "I'm, uh, greatly flattered. But there's nothing to know. I am my father's son."

"Now, don't sell yourself short." Her hand grazed his chest and settled on his shoulder. Bringing her face close to his ear, she whispered, "I have heard so much about you."

"You have, have you?" Draco said, straining to sit as straight as he could in order to put some distance between them, "What sort of things?"

"I have heard of your undying loyalty for the Dark Lord," She continued huskily, "The deeds your family has done for him. I know of your promise to do his bidding. And of your growing closeness with that muggle girl, friend to Harry Potter."

The name was uttered with the same sort of fire he had heard in Voldemort's voice. It wasn't quite hatred but a deep disdain and a reluctant reverence. But it was the thought of how closely she kept an eye on him that ran a shiver down his spine.

Thinking quickly, the words that left him were, "I figured she might one day be useful." He had decided the only way he could maintain his innocence and not betray his family's loyalties was to give her nothing but vague proclamations.

This elicited a laugh from her, not unlike the one his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, was fond of. At this, he decided to try a different approach. One that would give him a little more power over the conversation than he currently possessed.

"I can't say I have seen you before, professor, although I'm sure I must have. Given how close you seem to be with the Dark Lord."

"Why, of course you haven't." She said incredulously before whispering yet again into his ear, "I am his secret weapon."

The thrill that trickled down his neck told him to remove himself from the situation as quickly as he could and so he stood up abruptly.

"If you are, I highly suggest you keep that to yourself. I'm not sure he would take it lightly to his secrets being told. Even to a fellow... comrade. Now, if you would excuse me, professor... I should get going." His eyes fell on the untouched tea and he added a hasty thank you before making his way out of her office.

"I'm sure he would be thrilled to hear how... initiative you are, befriending the little Gryffindor. I'll be sure to pass it along!" She laughed as he strode away, his heart pounding harder and harder as the implications became clear in his head. He would have to stay away from Hermione, and what better time than now that she was unhappy with him.

But who was this professor, and how dare she come into the castle protected by the only wizard Voldemort ever respected and to some degree, feared?

Draco toyed with the idea that she was in league with Professor Snape, but it didn't quite sit right. She had no reason to seek him out if his head of house could have, and been more effective at it too. No, she was somehow working alone. But to what end?