Behind Those Emerald Eyes

Chapter 1: Gingersnap Cookies

The man entered Headmistress McGonagall's office.

It was now 10 years since Dumbledore's death, and under McGonagall's care and efforts Hogwarts had once again become the prosperous place of magic, friendship, and education it once was.

He paused for a moment in front of the gingersnap cookies on her desk, reached for one, thought twice, and finally sat down uncomfortably in a chair. As his eyes wandered the room, the exceptionally tall young man fiddled with the collar of his worn leather jacket.

McGonagall entered: "So I see you found the school well enough, Mr...Landon? Everett Landon, it being?"

"Yes," came his hesitant voice, as if he hadn't had a conversation with anybody in a long, long time.

"You are here for the teaching position of Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

A nod.

She spoke hurriedly, "Well, seeing as Barnaby Hodgkins resigned and there is--please, have a gingersnap--" McGonagall said when she noticed the man's eyes drifting towards the treats. He helped himself, in the process revealing jagged scars on his right forearm and hand as his coat sleeve slid up. McGonagall took notice but refrained from inquiring about them as she did not want to waste time.

"As I was saying, seeing as the old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher resigned, I have yet to find a suitable replacement. So tell me, Mr. Landon, will you spare me the tedious task of questioning you and accept the job without an interview?" She paused to catch her breath and waited for an answer. None came.

"I realize that this may seem abrupt and unethical to hire you without any knowledge of your past teaching positions, but if you have not yet realized, students will be arriving tomorrow morning and I desperately desire them to have a teacher."

Throughout her entire speech, the young man kept rapt attention to her every word. His intent gaze was sheltered beneath a mess of long dark hair just barely hiding a streak of silvery-white at his right temple. He was very relieved that she did not ask him about his previous employment in teaching--he had none.

"Yes," was all he said. As McGonagall looked at him imploringly, the shadowed face of the new Defense Against the Arts Teacher moved and his rugged voice continued decisively, "I will be needing a place to stay in the castle." The conversation was over.

As the new staff member left McGonagall to swim in her thoughts, she noticed how silently Everett Landon walked down the hall. When she had first entered her office she was taken aback at the man's appearance; most definitely, he had been poorly dressed and not at all what she had been expecting.

But the young man's bright eyes and the scars running the length of the right side of his face, and on his arm now that she remembered, were most intriguing.

McGonagall had the distinct feeling that she had met Everett Landon before.

Hermione Granger had lived inside herself the past 10 years. Keeping to herself all those years had not been hard.

Upon beginning her 7^th year at Hogwarts with Ron, Ginny, and Harry, Hermione had been happy in her studies and the possible exploration of a relationship with Ron. Now, Ginny was married to Seamus and living in Australia. Ron had gotten into too much trouble trying to outwit the Death Eaters, dying three years ago as a result of his injuries and leaving Hermione alone.

And Harry...oh, that horrible, courageous, frustrating...what I would do to him...Hermione thought. Harry, Harry Potter, had left 10 years ago in the night to defeat Voldemort by himself, leaving a very angry Hermione and Ron behind, the two people whom he had agreed to take with him to vanquish the Dark Lord at the end of their 6^th year. Harry Potter had since disappeared, not even returning after Lord Voldemort's death.

Hermione had no close friends left to turn to, choosing instead to immerse herself in teaching and of course, her books.

Now she was at her desk, preparing her lessons for the following day. Every now and then she gazed out the window at the dreary weather. Just the way I feel. A quiet knock brought her out of her reverie.

"Hey, Hermione, I lost my glasses again. Have you seen them?." Draco Malfoy entered the room, timid as hell and as self-aware as a 1^st year. Seeing as Hermione had that look on her face again and apparently had let his words go in one ear and out the other, Malfoy retreated. 'I'll ask Flitwick.'

Hermione glanced at the clock, noticing the setting sun's shadows falling across her office and how tired she was. Oh, how she wished she could just go to sleep and rest.

To have one restful night...just one blissful restful night...I'll do anything-- Well, except get rid of my original copy of Beowulf's autobiography...

It was 7 o'clock in the evening. Much too early to go to sleep yet much to late for any more clear thought. Hermione instead reflected on the subject of Malfoy's history.

Four short years ago Malfoy was desperate to become a Death Eater. He had been learning from his father, but seeing as Lucius was in Azkaban, had attempted to teach himself the Unforgivable Curses. How foolish he had been to think that he could succeed. Rather, a mispronounced curse backfired on Malfoy, causing him to lose his memory of himself and awaken to a world he no longer knew with people he did not remember.

Through the hardened efforts of several wise wizards and witches, Malfoy was now a kind soul scared of spiders and disgusted by bad behavior. The curse also resulted in horrible vision, so thick glasses added to Malfoy's new outrageous look as he started his new life. He did not lose his affinity for potions-making however, and had recently become a Professor at Hogwarts in that subject.

Hermione thought of all this while filling up her book bag with papers and parchment. Letting a small smile escape, she thought of how sweet Malfoy was now when compared to the evil, smug git he had been before. If only Harry could see him now.

'If' indeed.