Regaining Royalty

Chapter Four

"Come on, come on; hurry up," Professor Frost called ever so snappishly.

Draco swiftly stepped past the searing eyes of Professor Frost and took a seat at the back of the class. The classroom filled quickly and from the empty seats scattered around the room including those next to Draco, it showed that, like Arithmancy, few people were able to handle the NEWT workload and therefore many dropped the class. Now, a group of thirty from the houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin had drastically dropped to fifteen, and unfortunately it was the fifteen Draco hated most.

"It seems many of your classmates do not find defence important enough to take my class," Professor Frost snapped angrily, closing the door with an echoing hollow thud that inspired the thoughts of a prison door being closed, dooming the occupant. "I am glad I still have a decent class whom have had enough sense to know that they need to arm themselves in his world." Draco smirked; whatever Professor did look, she did not look at all glad about anything.

"Right, register I think," she commented, picking up the yellow parchment. "Please raise your hand when you answer so I can know who you all are." She looked over the classroom and Draco had the sneaking suspicion she didn't give two hoots about who was who. She just wanted to know whom she was giving a detention to next.

"Brown," she snapped quickly, her eyes darting over the class.

"Yes, Professor," Lavender Brown squeaked from the front of the class.

"Bulstrode."

"Yes, Professor," Millicent's dull voice replied in a bored drone.

"Crabbe." A grunt replied the call as Professor Frost began pacing up and down the classroom between the two rows of desks.

"Finnegan."

"Here, Professor," Seamus' Irish call sounded.

"Goyle." Another grunt.

"Granger." Draco rolled his eyes as Hermione's hand shot up in front of him.

"Present, Professor."

"Longbottom." Professor Frost's voice sounded almost curious as her gaze rested on the nervous round eyes of Neville Longbottom, his hand quivering just above his desk. "I knew your parents well," Professor Frost explained calmly before returning to her register.

"Malfoy." Draco raised his hand calmly as he spoke.

"Yes." He replied simply as her eyes darted onto him.

"Malfoy, I know that name." She smiled slightly, a cold harsh smile, when Theodore piped up.

"His father was locked up over the summer," he commented causing a rise of snickering from almost everyone in the class, though most of the girls fell deadly silent as Draco shot them glares that could have scared someone to death.

"Interesting," Professor Frost replied absently as if she found it as dull as a lesson of Hagrid's about Flobberworms. "No, I knew your mother, I believe. Narcissa, maiden name Black if I recall correctly."

"That's right." Draco nodded.

"Give her my regards, I'm sure she'll remember me." Professor Frost almost laughed, looking back to her register. "Nott."

"Yeah."

"Parkinson."

"Yes, Professor." Pansy Parkinson's pug face gleaming happily.

"Patil."

"Yes, Miss." Professor Frost paused for a minute, her eyes roaming over the paper again and again as if an error had occurred on her paper.

"Potter," She murmured as if she would faint from saying it. It seemed everyone had noticed this, as they glanced from Harry to the professor until Harry raised his hand.

"Yes, Miss." Harry replied almost as nervously as she spoke his name.

"Well, a celebrity in my class. I must remember to write it in family newsletter." Professor Frost smiled mockingly with a slight glance at Draco, who smiled back at her. "Thomas."

"Yes, Professor," Dean Thomas answered with a slightly dazed voice.

"Weasley." She again paused slightly at the name. "Son of Arthur Weasley by any chance?"

"Yes, Miss."

"I have heard of him of course, but no more," she commented, taking in the sight of Ron's freckled face and flame red hair. "Zabini."

"Yes, Professor," Blaise replied arrogantly.

"Brilliant. Now that is done, we can begin. This year, you will be learning defensive and offensive curses, potions and their defence properties, and you will be learning how to duel." In a flash, Hermione's hand shot into the air. "Yes Miss..." Professor Frost glanced down her register. "Granger."

"We've already been taught how to duel," Hermione commented.

"Yes, so I've heard," Professor Frost replied sarcastically. "By a nitwit who cares more about his appearance and a Potions master who knows about as much about Duelling as he does about shampoo." The Gryffindors burst into hysterics of laughter as the Slytherins, including Draco, scowled angrily. "You will be taught the proper way to duel, including all the formalities and rules that go along with it."

"There is more to duelling than just trying to hit the person with your curses?" Ron Weasley asked dumbly.

"Of course there is, Mr. Weasley," Professor Frost commented. "For instance, you are not allowed to send Adava Kedavra in your first attack. It is considered extremely bad form." She continued, though no one was watching Professor Frost's face; they were all staring numbly at her wand, for when she had mentioned the words Adava Kedavra, her wand had emitted a soft but bright green smoke, which rose from the wand laying on the table, a fly zooming past falling dead to the floor. Professor Frost, following the eye-line of every student in the room to the wand, saw the green smoke disappearing slowly.

"Ah, that." She smiled. "You will learn about that later. Now, I would like all of you to write down a list of all the curses you know."

Everyone scrambled for quills and parchment as they all wrote down lists of curses. Draco noticed, as he looked around, that his was considerably longer than most other people's. As a bell sounded deep in the bowels of the school, everyone began hastily packing away.

"For your homework I want a explanation for fifteen of the curses you have come up with, and if you have less than fifteen, then you must research until you find them." Groaning filled the classroom as everyone packed the last of their things.

"Mr. Malfoy. A word if you please?" A few glances shot towards Draco but he ignored them as everyone else filed out of the classroom and to the dining hall. Slinging his bag onto his shoulder, Draco walked to the front of the classroom and stood in front of Professor Frost's desk. She kept her eyes down at the paper for a second before looking up at him with gleaming eyes.

"I saw your little display in the dining hall," she commented, studying his face.

"Professors Snape and Dumbledore have already had words with me, Professor." Draco replied. "I see no need for another teacher to tell me."

"I saw no need in that, Draco." Professor Frost scowled slightly. "I do not believe your actions were correct for the place you chose to take them, but I do understand why you took those actions." Draco sank into the nearest chair.

"You do?"

"Of course I do." She smiled. "The same thing happened to me." She brushed a stray strand of long black hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear, making her look a lot younger than she had before. Draco scanned her face carefully as she continued. "My mother was arrested in my third year here. She was taken away to Azkaban and I haven't seen her since."

"What did she do?" Draco breathed.

"She murdered a family of Muggles under the Dark Lord's orders," she explained sorrowfully, her eyes dulling to a low brown glow. "She was taken away from her work in front of everyone and I was an orphan. My father died under the Dark Lord's orders."

"Your parents were both Death Eaters?" Draco asked slowly.

"Yes they were, and when everyone at school found out, like your friends, they disowned me. 'Stupid enough to be caught, too stupid to be a Slytherin.' That's the rule isn't it?"

"You're a Slytherin?"

"I'm a pureblood and both my parents were Death Eaters, you expect me to be anything else?"

Draco smiled. "I suppose not."

"Just don't tell the Gryffindors. I doubt it will gain me much credit with them, and I doubt they will like me cursing them if they know where I come from."

"Curse them anyway," Draco muttered quietly.

"Now, now, Draco," Professor Frost replied, a mocking tone to her voice that worried even Draco. "I can't do that. I might lose my job, and if I lose my job, who else will give over the information the Dark Lord requires?" Draco's eyes widened as she stood and ushered him out the door. "You'll be late for your dinner."

Wandering the corridors, not wanting another show in the Great Hall, or to return to the Slytherin common room he always found relaxing, Draco's mind reeled with what Professor Frost had said. She was a spy: A spy working for the Dark Lord against Dumbledore. But even that wasn't what worried him most. She thought he would become a Death Eater. She knew his father; she must, as she knew so much about him. Whatever Draco did now, Professor Frost would be watching... Voldemort would be watching.