A Fate Worse Than Death

A Fate Worse than Death.

Professor Potter was Mildred Grant's favourite teacher.

It wasn't just because he was a war hero, or had a tragic past and needed to be looked after. He was just so nice. He always had time for any student who didn't understand something, and he never shouted at anyone. He was even fair in the points he distributed, even though everyone knew he had been in Gryffindor.

But Mildred despised Professor Malfoy. He was horrible. She hated him, she told herself fiercely, even more than Snape. Both teachers were equally mean to all their students, but at least you could get some satisfaction that Professor Snape looked bad, with his greasy hair and big nose and extraordinarily strange eyebrows. Professor Malfoy, however, always had on his superior smirk, and his hair probably took two hours to perfect in the mornings, and he wore those very special robes which were exactly the same as any other pair except for the small stitching on the sleeve that meant they were allowed to cost twice as much, and were made, as her father said, for wizards with "more money than sense."

Mildred didn't understand why all of the older girls were so excited when it was nearly time for Transfiguration with Professor Malfoy. Mildred would rather battle a dragon and ten blast-ended skrewts if it meant she never had to step into that classroom ever again. But these girls would do their hair very carefully, and put lip gloss on, and giggle in a very silly way.

"I don't know why you're so happy!" Mildred had yelled at her older sister, Sandra, one day. "Malfoy's the worst teacher here!"

Sandra had laughed at her and then patted her arm in a way Mildred found very annoying. "You'll understand in a few years," she said, in an infuriating manner.

Mildred had scowled.

***

One day, when Mildred was asking Professor Potter about her homework, Professor Malfoy came strolling into the classroom.

"I need to talk to you, Potter," Malfoy said, smirking as usual.

"Right! Er..." Mildred looked at Professor Potter. He seemed rather flustered. "I was just talking to Miss Grant here, but if that's all, Mildred, I'll see you next lesson..."

"I can stay if you'd like, Professor Potter," Mildred growled, glaring at Malfoy.

"Um, no, that's quite alright," Professor Potter answered. Mildred looked at him in surprise. It almost sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "I'm sure Professor Malfoy wanted an- erm, a private word..."

Mildred smiled at him and nodded, before walking casually out of the classroom. A few seconds later, however, she was plastered against the door, one ear against the wood. Leave Professor Potter alone with Malfoy? Was he mad??

"Honestly," Professor Malfoy was saying. "I don't know how you put up with the children enough to talk to them after hours."

"Mildred's a very nice girl," said Professor Potter defensively. Mildred glowed with pride.

"Honestly, Potter, you're much too soft." There was a pause. "In fact, I really do think you need to be taught a lesson..."

"Really, Malfoy? And you think you're the one to teach me, do you?"

"I do indeed," answered Malfoy, in what could only be described as a growl.

Suddenly, huge CRASH! echoed from behind the door. Mildred jerked back, mouth agape. She couldn't believe something like this could happen, in a classroom at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but it was true- Malfoy was trying to beat up Professor Potter! She seized the doorknob, and twisted it frantically. It was locked.

"Just what do you think you are doing, Miss Grant?"

Mildred jumped about ten feet into the air and glanced behind her. It was Professor Snape.

"Professor!" Mildred cried. "It's Malfoy, Sir! I think he's attacking Professor Potter!"

Snape's eyes widened slightly, and then narrowed. "I'll deal with this," he said. "Go to your common room."

"But-"

"Go ON, girl!"

When Snape started to scowl, his eyebrows became truly frightening. Mildred fled. She could hear, faintly behind her, a door banging and Snape's voice.

"For the love of Merlin! Can't you be a little more discreet??!"

***

Mildred was in disbelief the following morning, when both Professor Potter and Malfoy came into breakfast as if there was nothing wrong at all. She turned to her friend, Ben Fitzgerald, and relayed in a whisper the events of the previous afternoon. Ben, who was small and mousy and filled to the brim with common sense, looked sceptical.

"Malfoy attacked Potter?" he asked, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"I heard it!" Mildred hissed. "Banging, scraping furniture- Malfoy said he was going to teach Professor Potter a lesson!"

"I have heard that the Malfoy family's a bit dodgy," Ben said, "but still! And if what you said is true, why is Professor Malfoy even still here? And look- he's even sitting next to Professor Potter!"

Mildred's head jerked up to look at the staff table. Ben was right. Mildred thought hard.

"Perhaps Malfoy is blackmailing him, and Snape's in on it as well!" she muttered. "Or..."

"Blackmailing Professor Potter?!" answered Ben incredulously. "That's not very likely, is it?"

Mildred scowled at Malfoy.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm going to find out," she said.

***

They had DADA again the next day. Mildred got there early, worried that something might have happened to their teacher.

Professor Potter had looked very uncomfortable for the entire lesson. He kept tugging at the neck of his robes. Mildred watched him very closely, and was almost sure she had seen a red mark peeking out from underneath the collar.

"Did you see Professor Potter today?" she hissed afterwards to Ben. "He looked worried- scared even, wouldn't you say?"

"I just thought he looked a bit flushed," said Ben, in his matter-of-fact way.

"Scared-flushed though, right?"

"Er..."

"And did you see his neck?? I'm almost sure there was a bruise there! That just proves it! Malfoy has been attacking him!! Repeatedly! I just knew he was evil!"

"And that just brings us back to our first question: why doesn't Professor Potter just tell someone about it?" Ben said reasonably.

Mildred rolled her eyes impatiently. "You know what Professor Potter's like! You've read enough! He probably doesn't want to bother anyone! He's a WAR HERO!"

"But still, Mildred..."

"The Headmistress would put a stop to it, if only she knew!" Mildred continued, dramatically. "What we need is- what we need is proof!"

"Oh, Merlin," moaned Ben.

***

Mildred was like a thing possessed. She spent every moment of her spare time following either Professor Potter or Malfoy around, trying to catch them out. Even Ben was bored by the first week.

"Face it Mildred," he said. "It's impossible. You should just give up."

"Never!" Mildred would answer grandly. "Ever! I will never give up!"

Ben would just roll his eyes.

Mildred basically memorised each teacher's teaching schedule, and she would make sure Professor Potter was safely in his own classroom before going to her own lessons. She also stayed in the dining hall until both teachers had finished their food.

"Have you noticed that Malfoy always sits next to Professor Potter?" she whispered to Ben on the third day. "Looming over him like some- like some evil little ferret!"

The only thing that fretted Mildred was that she was unable to keep an eye on Professor Potter at night. But, she reasoned, he would be safe in his own rooms, with all their charms and wards, and there would be no way Malfoy could get in then.

At last, after two weeks or so, Mildred's dogged persistence finally paid off. She was following Professor Potter from a distance when Malfoy suddenly appeared from nowhere and yanked him into a disused classroom.

Mildred drew in a deep breath. This was it. The showdown. She gripped her wand tightly in her hand. She wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do once she got there, but there was a Professor who needed to be saved! She crept forward, and hurriedly kicked the door open.

"Ah-HA!" Mildred yelled triumphantly. Or at least, she tried to. She got out the first 'ah' alright, but then her voice turned into a very strangled shriek when she actually took in the scene in front of her.

Professor Potter and Professor Malfoy were definitely not fighting. In fact, they were most definitely kissing, or they had been until they had jerked away at her loud entrance.

"Mildred!" said Professor Potter. A flush was spreading rapidly across his face.

"Erk," said Mildred.

By this time, Professor Malfoy had managed to recover from his shock. He pulled his robes closed in his usual superior manner.

"You little brat!" he spat, glaring at her. "Just what do you think you are doing, Miss Grant?"

"Erm," said Mildred.

Professor Malfoy scowled, and he whipped out his wand. Professor Potter immediately grabbed his elbow, forcing the wand tip upwards.

"Draco- NO! You heard what the Headmistress said at the beginning of term! You aren't allowed to go around Obliviating students!"

"Let go of my arm, Harry!"

"Not until you calm down!"

"Fine! I won't hex her Potter, alright?"

"Yes you will!"

"I won't!"

"You will! I know you too well!"

"Oh Merlin," moaned Mildred. "I think I'm going to be sick."

There was a pause.

"Harry?"

"What?"

"What are we supposed to do with her?"

***

Ten minutes later, Mildred was sitting in an armchair in Professor Snape's study, clutching a large mug of hot chocolate.

"I still feel sick," she said.

"Not surprising," Professor Snape answered. "They quite frequently drive me to retching, myself."

"I mean-!" Mildred shook her head. "How in Merlin's name did they ever end up as a couple?!"

"I often ask myself the same question," Snape said, with a face that suggested there was something quite unpleasant right under his nose.

"Professor Potter's just- so nice, and Malfoy's- it's Professor Malfoy!"

"Not quite the situation as I see it," Snape shot back, sneering slightly. "But I do appreciate the sentiment, nevertheless."

"But- Malfoy's a Malfoy. And Harry's a War Hero!" said Mildred, hollowly.

"Apparently, a War Hero who had no idea that he was being closely followed by an 11-year-old girl," Snape muttered.

"Oh, Merlin." Mildred set the cup down.

"Miss Grant, if you've quite got over your shock, there's the small matter of..."

"My not telling anyone?" Mildred put in weakly.

"Precisely."

"Don't worry," Mildred said. "It's not like anyone would believe me, anyway."

But when she exited the room, she was sure of one thing.

She truly had been trying to save Professor Potter from a Fate Worse Than Death.

Imagining having to wake up to Malfoy next to her in bed every morning, Mildred shuddered.

It wasn't until a few years had passed that she began to really understand that it might not be such a bad fate after all.

END.