Probable Reaction

Chapter Five

In which Draco walks off, Pansy goes shopping, the word 'goat' is thrown around too much and Percy has a brief, yet surprising appearance. Features worried!Snape, Kneezle coat!Lucius and the Vulture Hat.

*

"Stop staring at me like that, Weasley!" Draco was in no mood for Ron's little mind games. Ron, apparently, was in no mood for Draco at all. He stormed out of the room without a word, though Draco could swear he gave Hermione, who was curled up in the chair by the window, a hateful glare. He's mad at her for bringing me here....

"You two need to stop acting like children and end this stupid fight." Hermione didn't even look up from the book in her lap, though Draco could imagine her face mirrored the rain streaked Paris sky. It had all day.

"For what? I didn't do anything wrong." Draco crossed his arms over his chest as the other five people in the exchanged glances. When his eyes met those of Ginny she blushed crimson and went back to writing in her diary. Every few minutes she would let her eyes flick up to his, but he ignored her and stared out at the rain gloomily.

Ever since last night, everything seemed to be going horribly. He could recall every moment, every word exchanged above his head as if he simply weren't there. Every hateful glare cast his way.

Ron, after finding Draco on top of his sister at eleven at night, had certainly not been in a happy mood. Ginny had some right to be mad, but she wasn't. Draco had every right to be upset that it was not Hermione at all that he had been on but instead the mini Weasley, but he wasn't. Hermione was certainly entitled to be downright furious at him after he blurted out that it was in fact her he had been aiming for, but she wasn't. It was just Ron, Pansy and Percy.

Early that morning, Pansy had woken all of them up and announced that she was going shopping for the afternoon because it would clear her mind. Clear her mind of what, Draco wasn't sure, but at least she was gone.

Percy Weasley, as Draco quickly found out, was protective of his sister. Insanely protective of her. He made Ron's reaction to the situation look like a happy moment. Percy had not only found it necessary to give Draco a lecture on morals and values for an hour, but had also assigned him homework, an essay, no less, on the history of good manners. Draco had no intention of doing it, of course, and had just absently nodded his head and stared off into space during the talk. After that, Percy had left the hotel and still hadn't come back yet.

Neither had Mr. or Mrs. Weasley. They had gone out long before the whole fiasco and were still not back. While Draco wasn't exactly forward to seeing them again, all of the Gryffindorks around him couldn't wait for them to come back.

"Oh, of course you didn't. Raping my sister in the middle of the night isn't wrong at all," one of the twins, Draco still couldn't tell them apart, spoke from his place on the floor.

"He's a Malfoy. It's the only thing we could expect from him. That and performing goat sacrificing rituals to the Money God." Harry was just as sarcastic as the twin had been.

"Once again, I didn't know it was her. And where the hell are you getting that we perform goat rituals?" Draco's face flushed as he caught Hermione watching him out of the corner of her eye. She probably wasn't likely to forget who exactly he had been looking for. "And anyway, it's only rape if you don't like it."

Draco chuckled to himself as Ginny let out a spluttering noise. Fred, or at least the one Draco thought was Fred, had knocked over the card tower he and his brother had been building as he spun to face it his sister. "You liked it, Virginia Nicole Weasley?"

"No!" Her cheeks were a notably darker shade of red then before. Draco stood up.

"Unless anyone else has something to say about my character or the type of rituals I perform, I'm leaving." The twins let out a small cheer. "Granger, I have to talk to you."

"Congratulations." Hermione made no move to get up from her chair or to be distracter from her book.

"Now, please." Harry dropped his Quidditch magazine to the floor. The twins were staring at him with wide eyes. Even Hermione had looked up. "What? What'd I say?"

"You said please."

"So what?"

"Malfoys don't say 'please'." Hermione had gone back to reading. "They murder and plunder and all around do bad things."

"Fine. Granger, come out in the hall so I can plunder you."

Everyone rolled their eyes and Draco threw the pillow he had been hugging to his chest at Harry. He caught it and then threw it at Ginny. She, however, wasn't so lucky. It hit her in the head and her diary went flying from her hands. Draco picked it up.

"Dear Diary. Last night was the best night of my life. The incredibly wonderful sex god that everyone wants, Draco Malfoy, gave me a kiss. I enjoyed it. Very much. He is so wonderful. But I am done with my obsession for the moment and will now heavily hit on Harry, the Boy-Who-Clearly-Loves-Me." Draco smirked as he 'read' from it. Ginny was trying to hide under the bed by that point and everyone was ready to forcibly throw Draco from the room.

"Would you give that back to her and stop tormenting her for one summer vacation?" Harry grabbed the diary from him and set it back in Ginny's chair. He then walked over to the window and looked down at the slick streets. "When exactly were your parents supposed to be back?"

"Last night before ten." Ginny's reply was muffled by the bed as she tried to pull herself back out. When she finally did get herself unstuck, her hair was sticking out at every which way. Almost as bad as Potter's... hehe...

"Come on Granger, I have to talk to you." Draco sighed as she shook her head again. "Fine. Don't come. I don't know when I'll be back."

"Hope it's never!" George Weasley sounded incredibly cheery.

He walked out the door he could hear Harry and Ginny starting to argue about something. The words 'If it isn't true, then let me see!' came up right as the door was closed. Draco stood in the hall for a moment, his ear pressed against the wood to hear, but it was too thick.

The hallway was empty and as he slowly made his way toward the elevator, Draco kicked at the air. Nothing's right today. It all seems funny, though I don't see how. Someone behind him cleared their throat and he turned.

"I'm here. What'd you want?" Hermione's hands were firmly placed on her hips as she stood there, staring him down. He took a step toward her, but she shook her head. "Stay there. I don't trust you."

"Don't trust me? Hard to believe, though with all of these goat sacrifices that I apparently make, you never know what I'll do next."

"Drop it. They were trying to be funny. You aren't." Her eyes burned a bright brown, lighting up her whole gloomy face. The tight frown didn't help much either.

"I know that Malfoys, according to you, aren't supposed to do this either, but I'm sorry, Granger." Draco hung his head and licked his lips. He could feel her gaze on him as if it were a heavy weight.

"Sorry for what, Malfoy?"

"Sorry that I visited you in Venice. Sorry that I brought Pansy into all of this. Sorry that I'm not loved by your friends, though I don't see how they can possibly resist me...."

"Malfoy...."

"Oh yes, getting back to the point. Sorry that you said my name in the piazza. Sorry that I made fun of you, sorry that I called you names. I'm even starting to be sorry that I'm a Malfoy, since I now know what happened to the goat population in England...."

"Stop with the goats!" Her words were sharp, but when he looked up, she was smiling.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you really?" Neither one had anything to say. Silence was much heavier than her gaze. The only sound was the soft pattering of rain on the roof above them.

"I don't know. When I decided to find you when I was in Egypt, it was truly because I was bored. But as I spent time with you I found that you really aren't all that bad. Better than some people I know, that's for sure."

"Like who?" She sounded genuinely interested.

"My mother. She's such a horrible person on the inside that she has to be beautiful on the outside to make up for it. I doubt that she even has a heart. She is the real reason my father joined the Death Eaters, did you know that? Not many do. She actually controls my father most of the time."

"But you said your father would kill you if you associated with people like me. What would your mother do?" Hermione had closed the gap between them and was now standing before him, her hand on his back in a comforting way.

"She would be the one yelling for him to scream the words that would end my life. She's not a very good witch, and really isn't skilled in the Dark Arts, so she hides behind my father. Except when she's drunk. Then she's just really... interesting."

"Is she drunk often?"

"No. When she is though, she gets really demanding and weepy. And if she were like that often enough and not the complete wall of emotion that she is most of the time, there would be tons of little Malfoys running about."

"Dreadful thought." Both of them shivered; Hermione, because Malfoys were annoying, no matter how nice they seemed to be at the moment and Draco because he really liked being an only child. "All right, back on topic. Are you really sorry?"

"Yes, I think I am. I shouldn't have just come like this. Merlin only knows, we might become friends." Another shiver. Draco cleared his throat. "Or something more?"

"No. I will not ever become something more with you. You're mean and rude and slimy and..."

"Devilishly handsome?"

"Annoying and bossy and cheap and way too self centered."

"And mean to goats?"

"God damnit Malfoy!" She smacked his shoulder lightly. "If you don't stop with the goats, I'll go tell Ron you pounced on Ginny again." Draco's throat went dry and he backed away from her.

"You wouldn't dare. He'd kill me."

"He'd kill you and feed you to some goats."

"Is that going to be some kind of long running joke or something?" Draco sighed and leaned against the wall. Hermione did the same.

"Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?" Hermione looked deep into his eyes. She really does have pretty eyes....

"Yes." They didn't move for a few moments, the silence settling in again. Neither wanted to be the first to move. "Would you... would you mind if I kissed you now?"

"Yes, I would."

"Oh." More awkward silence. "How about now?"

"Malfoy, if we're done here, I'm going to go back into the room hoping that Ginny and Harry haven't killed each other over that diary yet. You can go wherever you're going." Draco nodded and turned to leave. "But please don't stay away too long. You, out on the streets of Paris by yourself, could have serious effects on the way this place works."

"If, by that you mean, all their girls will be sexed and their goats will be killed, then hell, you're right."

"Something along those lines." She smirked at him and he continued down the hall.

*

"Yes, my little Neville is such a dear. And so polite too, except when he forgets to take his medications." Severus sipped his tea and wrinkled his nose. The woman in front of him had put too much sugar in it. And she was also wearing a damned vulture hat. Oh, I hate that hat! And Lupin. Stupid Boggart. "When that happens he's certainly a... pardon my French, but he's a troublemaker."

Severus nodded, not sure if that last bit was supposed to be humorous or not and set the cup down on the table. Longbottom? Troublemaker? As in how? "Where exactly is your grandson? I need to speak with him."

"We haven't been formally introduced, I believe. Miranda Longbottom. And you are?"

"Severus Snape."

"Oh, I thought you were a woman, from the way my grandson goes on about you...."

Severus blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Yes, he simply adores your class, but I was always led to believe you were a woman." She adjusted her hat for a moment, leaving him to think of all the horrible things he would be doing to Longbottom when they were back at school. Tell people I'm a woman, will he?

"Your grandson, Miranda. Where is he?" She smiled and got up, walking off into the kitchen. Severus leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. This would be easier than he thought if she was just going to get him....

She came back with a plate of oatmeal cookies. "Here dear, you look starving. They go nice with some warm milk, would you like some?"

"No, I wouldn't. I would however like to speak with Neville. Is he here?" He was getting the strongest feeling he knew where Neville's forgetfulness came from.

Miranda sighed and set the plate down. The cookies were shaped into little oatmeal men. "He's away for the summer with his grandfather."

"If I may ask, where have they gone?" Severus, against his better judgment, picked up one of the cookies and nibbled on the edge. It, too, had too much sugar. "Venice, by chance?"

"No, not Venice. It really is personal business, if you don't mind." She was looking nervous and kept playing with the hat. Stupid hat!

"Miss please. I don't see why you have to lie about his whereabouts."

"L...lie? I'm not...."

"That is, unless you are in on the whole plot! Covering up for him, are you? Has he abducted Hermione? Is she tied up in the basement of this very house?" Snape was speeding up his questioning rapidly, trying to get the woman to mess up and maybe say where they were hiding Granger. Not that I would care all that much if she never showed up again....

"I don't understand what you're talking about sir. I don't know about any Hermione, except for the one that Neville always says helps him with his homework."

"Aha!" He jumped from his seat, nearly tipping the cookies. "I have proof that Neville was in Venice and has gone somewhere with Miss Granger. Where is she?" He knew he sounded irrational. He didn't care.

"Neville was, and is, not in Venice. He's visiting his parents with his grandfather!" She had started to cry now, the tears streaming down her aged skin. "For what Neville says about you, you most certainly are not a nice Herbology teacher, accusing the poor dear like that."

Severus slowly sat down. His parent... in St. Mungo's? Oh Merlin, what have I done? And she thinks I'm Sprout? That would account for the woman remarks.... "I teach Potions and I'm sorry."

"Potions? You're the one who gives him those abysmal grades? Get out of my house and never come back. Venice? Why would he be in Venice?"

And with that, he was pushed from the house. For such an old woman, she sure was strong....

*

As Lucius sat there, his back to the gilded door his master sat behind, he couldn't help but play with the hem of his robes. It was nerve-wracking sitting here for hours, hoping that his son could be found. It would get awful around the house very quickly if Narcissa kept up with her crying fits.

The room was cold from the breeze blowing in through the window slit. He was glad his robes were fir-lined. Only the finest Kneezle had gone into them.

A table in the center of the room was littered with books, the majority of them full of Dark Magic and curses. But one was a storybook, its cover all but worn off from wear, though the title, 'King Arthur's Court' was still softly visible. A ribbon, soft blue, was pressed between two of the pages and Lucius, with a look thrown back over his shoulder to the door, reached out and grabbed it.

It opened to a picture. Not a big one, and it was only faded shades of black and gray, but it was enough. There, in the center, stood Merlin, his arms outstretched wide. His face was that of a pained, weather old man, and nothing moved. A Muggle book. Why would his Lord have this? And why is it bookmarked here?

"Sir." The soft, gentle voice behind him made him jump and throw the book back onto the table. It was still opened to the marked page.

The boy who had spoken wore a blood red mask, marking him as a Devoted. The Devoted were not yet Death Eaters. They still had the trials to complete and had yet to give their sacrifice. This one wore the usual garb of thin, skin-tight black cloth, though his hair hadn't been dyed black, as all Devoted usually did. Lucius vividly remembered how horrible his own blond locks had looked in the midnight shade. This boy is peculiar. Perhaps he's the Dark Lord's trophy?

As he rose from his chair, Lucius carefully reached out and closed the book. Now there was no evidence that he had disturbed anything. Unless the boy spoke. Which he wouldn't, of course. Devoted were not supposed to speak unless instructed to. "Go back to your post."

The boy walked out without another word, though Lucius saw him take a second look down at the book.

Of course there were more Devoted than there had been before Lucius took his trials. A war was breaking and their side was much stronger. Their side was going to win. They would finally be able to take the world by storm.

The door he went through was made from the finest wood, a pure masterpiece. Not even the Malfoy Manor had this type of lavish wood, and that was saying something. When he stepped into the room, he stopped. It was empty.

No. There in the corner sat a man. He held himself nervously, as if he were a puppy who had done wrong and knew he would be punished. This was, after all, Lord Voldemort's puppy. Or more specifically, his rat.

"Wormtail." Lucius nodded his head at the short, balding man. He didn't nod back. The chair that he sat in was a simple thing, clearly constructed as nothing more than just a place to sit. It seemed so out of place from the rest of the room. Nearly everything was as good, or better, as the door had been. It was almost like being back home.

"Lucius, why are you here? Your... Our master isn't here." The man licked his lips and tapped his fingers against his steel arm, making a hollow noise. Lucius turned away from him and to the window looking down on the Training Fields.

Devoted and Death Eaters alike trained down there, the reds and blacks mingling together until the colors were void and all you would see was the death and destruction going on. Muggles were held in cages there, on the side, and occasionally one would be taken out and thrown into a circle of power-hungry men with wands. They would cast spell upon spell on the Muggle until they collapsed and were put back in their containment center. "All is going well in my absence?"

"You have been absent far too long. Where were you?" Wormtail's words were mumbled through the bite of chicken he had just taken. A large stack of assorted foods littered the table in the corner and Lucius went and picked out a plum before returning to the window. Another Muggle, a little girl who had been pulled away from her mother's hand, was thrown out.

"I was on vacation." As the little girl fell, Lucius sighed. Why even bother with the little ones? They fall so much faster than the adults. "How many are killed a day? And hasn't the village gotten suspicious yet?"

"Oh, none killed. They are used until they are too tired to stand and then our men will just put them back to wait their turns again. Every once and again we will cast memory charms on them and send them back to their homes, just so things look right. This really is an ideal location for us, Lucius."

"Indeed."

They were quiet again as Peter ate and Lucius watched down on the training. The Devoted were aggressive youths, the Death Eaters trained at what they had been doing for years. Both sets of them had the same goal in mind. Power. The quest for power and to survive a war. Not just a war, but the war that was coming upon them fast.

"When is Voldemort coming back?" Lucius grew tired of watching the weak Muggles fall and walked back over to a chair next to Peter. The man shrugged and threw another bone to the snake curled up in the beautiful throne in the center of the room. Of course, his Lord sat there. But Naginii was just as important to Voldemort as his own health. She swallowed it and went back to sleep.

"He didn't say. All he said was that it was important and that I was a foolish, foolish man for asking so many questions."

"But you are foolish, Wormtail." Lucius spun around. There, in the doorway, stood Voldemort himself. The man stood tall and proud, dark and mysterious, radiating and yet frightening. This was the Dark Lord. Peter squeaked and dropped to his knees, as did Lucius, though he did it much slowly. "Rise."

"Good evening sir." Lucius fingered his robes again as Voldemort walked over to his throne, picked up the large snake and set her on his shoulders. She didn't seem to mind. "I came to check up on the troops and to say that the Bahamas were just as you said they would be."

"I told you, they are not a nice place to visit. Too many damn Muggles." There was a faint scream from one of the victims down below on the ground, echoing Voldemort's words. "But you came for more, Lucius. I can see it in your eyes."

"My son."

"Ah, your son has left you again."

"Sir?" Lucius' eyes flashed.

"He has left your household. Your ideals. I fear that the boy has gone off to the loosing side of the war." Peter choked on something and grabbed a goblet quickly, slurping whatever the green liquid that sloshed out was.

"How do you know?" Lucius knew his master was powerful, but still....

"When you bonded him to me all those years ago it gave me the ability to feel what he feels emotionally. To feel what he feels physically. To basically see what he does. He's in Paris now, though I feel that he is moving on soon. And he is not alone."

"Paris? Sir, I don't think that Draco would really go to...." Lucius was interrupted as Voldemort raised his hand. It was such a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes. "Sorry I doubted your words." Paris. "Not alone, did you say?"

"He is wounded, or at least his pride is. And only someone close to him, or someone he holds close, could cut him that deep. Not a stranger. Go to Paris and find him Lucius. Find your son again, like you did the last time he ran away."

"Sir, if I might ask, what is the name of that Devoted out in the hallway? The one you had call me in. He must be fairly close to you."

"Ah yes. The one with the red hair, I believe you're talking about." Lucius nodded his head at his master. "He is a prize indeed. I feel accomplished at knowing I have Percy Weasley under my command." Lucius felt his mouth hang open. Weasley. A trophy indeed.

"Thank you sir. I will bring Draco back and bond him to you again. He seems to be straying away from the plans." Lucius nodded his head at the window. "The training seems to be going well in my absence at least."

"Yes, it is." Voldemort was stroking the snake's head, clearly not interested in the conversation anymore. "You may go now."

Lucius sucked on his bottom lip as he left the room, feeling Peter's tight gaze on his back. Paris. Draco in Paris with someone close to him. The Devoted stood out in the hall and Lucius passed him with barely a glance, though he did stare an extra moment at the tuft of shocking red hair sticking out from under the mask. A Weasley in our forces. Merlin's ghost.... "Good work, Weasley."

The boy squeaked out something that might have been 'Don't tell my father'. Lucius walked away laughing.

*

At least the rain had stopped. It had soaked him to the bone as he had walked absently along the streets of Paris, not really having anywhere to go but forward. Draco had just followed the throng of people for awhile, twisting and turning so many times that he was sure he would never find his way back to the hotel.

But here he was, sitting on a bench outside of the Arc du Triumph trying not to be bothered by a strand of hair that kept drooping down into his face. People went passed him, most not even noticing the dripping boy at all, all of them having a much better day then he was.

As he stared down at his hands, once beautiful and white like two tiny silk pillows, now tanned and scarred from his time in the deserts, he felt like bawling. His head was throbbing, he hadn't eaten anything in awhile and had no money on him to even bother finding a café and all he wanted to do was to go home and curl up in his down mattress and sleep forever. But no. He was in Paris, greatly disliked by all nine people traveling with him, and had to either share a bed with Percy, Ron and Harry or the twins and Mr. Weasley. He was quite keen on sleeping on the floor tonight in all honesty.

The Champs Elysees was busy on that day, despite the weather. Women walked up and down, toting children that couldn't have been any taller then Draco's waist. A few mn leaned against a light pole, watching some of the younger girls walk past. Some of them helped a sweet little thing to carry her package.

And here came Pansy.

Her arms were loaded down with bag upon bag of what looked, from where he sat, to be very expensive clothing. She was wearing a lurid tan dress that made her look somewhat like a fat carp. Some of the boys were laughing at her, but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were focused on Draco.

He thought about running away. He thought about jumping in front of a speeding bus. But what he did was sat there patiently until she arrived, dropping the packages in front of her and letting out a great sigh of relief. Then she motioned for him to move over and sat on his bench.

"Why are you here?"

"Je ne parle pas Français " Pansy was giving him a strange, sideways glance. He thought about what he said for a minute and suppressed a curse. "Je signifie, je ne parle pas anglais."

"Oh Draco, shut up. I don't want to play your mind games right now. I'm tired. That Ginny girl snores." Draco smirked. I can't wait to tease her about that. And also to tease Potter by teasing her about that.... "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to go for a walk to get away from everyone for awhile." He looked at her expectantly, as if mentally motioning for her to leave. She stayed firmly rooted to the spot.

"Your hair is all wet."

"I know." Pansy looked at his hair for a moment. He knew that it must look a mess, but he didn't care at the moment. Oh Merlin, what am I thinking, not caring.... Am I changing that much? Ack. "What did you buy?"

"Oh, just a few dresses, some hats, some shirts, a couple of fancy skirts and five pairs of shoes." She managed to say all this in one breath. "Why do you care?"

"I don't. I'm just making small talk until I think of a plausible excuse to leave." Pansy wrinkled her nose at him.

"Why don't you like me?" She stuck out her lip and he rolled his eyes. "You'd rather date that Granger then me."

"I don't want to date the her." No, not date. I just want to climb on top of her in the middle of the night and kiss her, that's all. Oh, and in the hallways too. Not just the bedroom anymore. "She hates me."

"I hate you, but I'm still willing to date you, sweetie."

"Erm... thank you Pansy." He had no idea how that was supposed to make him feel better. She nodded.

"Are you actually considering dating her? I mean, that's immoral."

"I know you don't like her Pansy, but calling her immoral is just...."

"No, you twit. Interhouse relationships. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin? A Malfoy and a Mudblood? It won't work." Draco narrowed his eyes at her.

"Don't call her that!" Pansy blinked and Draco felt his face flushing. "I mean... erm...."

"You do want to date her. It has never been done before, but you, Mr. Perfect, might just be able to pull off the whole Slythndor relationship if you keep up that attitude. You certainly aren't going to be able to show your face around our common rooms at any rate if anyone hears you say that." Pansy smirked. "Though I don't know how they would ever find out."

"Blackmail. Fun. Whadda you want, Pansy?" Draco noticed that that smile made her look almost like his mother.

"Nothing yet. But when the time comes, you had better make due. But for starters, you can help me bring these bags back to the hotel." She nodded her head at the packages at her feet.

"But I'm not done with my walk yet."

"Oh yes you are." And with that, she pilled his arms with bags, took the single smallest one for herself and dagged him away from the bench.

*

"Now then Severus, I don't see why you feel the need to run into my office at such a late hour." Severus looked at the clock that hung over the Headmaster's head, which read eight-thirty. "But since you are here, sit down and tell me what you need."

"Well, as you may have noticed, I haven't been here for awhile."

"I thought that you may have simply locked yourself in your dungeons this whole time. You should tell us when you're going out next time." Dumbledore's soft blue eyes met the cold black of Severus' and he frowned. "All right, no joking."

"Did a package arrive for me at all? Or an owl?" His last resort had been to come back here to check if Hermione might have owled him.

"Nothing at all, though I'm sure Miss Granger sends her best regards." Severus abruptly fell to the floor and blinked. How in the hell did he know?

"Wha... how did you know I have been seeing her? Not that it was anything more than a...." Dumbledore held up his hand and Severus wound down as he picked himself up.

"Her parents have been keeping in touch with me, as well as her, and it seems that she talks about you a great deal to them. Her last owl said that you had taken her dancing and that you were a perfect gentleman. Now then," Dumbledore paused. Severus had a lump in his throat. I'm going to lose my job. He thinks I'm carrying on an affair with her or something.... I would never do that, of course... right? "I didn't know you could be a gentleman."

"I didn't... she just... I didn't touch her! Don't fire me!" Dumbledore chuckled at him.

"You are a great teacher, friend, and ally and I wouldn't fire you. Calm down Severus. Aren't you interested as to where this letter came from?"

"Well, Hermione I'm guessing."

"Right. But she was in Paris, using one of the Weasleys owls. She says that the twins say hello and that Draco Malfoy needs to set up an appointment with you because he didn't get this summer's homework on the Amicus Potion."

"Draco Malfoy is with her?" Severus frowned. Blond boy. Oh. "Aren't you at all worried that he was sent there as a spy for the Dark Lord? He is Lucius' son, after all...."

"Yes, and blood is thicker than Polyjuice Potion, though in this case it is taken care of." Dumbledore smiled knowingly, then grabbed a parchment from a pile on his desk and handed it over. "Oh, and this came also. It's an order form from an ingredient company in America. They have that shipment of fluxweed in and it's ready to be delivered." Severus nodded. "Don't go looking for Hermione again, Severus. She's safe with the Weasleys now and doesn't need your protection."

"All right sir." He got up to leave, but Dumbledore wasn't finished.

"Also, Neville Longbottom has been transferred out of all of your classes because his grandmother called you a foul old man who needs to stop picking on poor, innocent children. Whatever you did, it was bad, because she used the term 'Pardon my French' four times."

*