Draco waited outside Dumbledore's office door until the wizard called for him to enter. He pulled the door ring and walked through, sitting in the indicated chair. "Good afternoon, Professor Malfoy. What can I do for you?"

He couldn't help but glance at the many tall shelves with their strange objects, the collection of ancient spell books, and the frowning Sorting Hat that did not seem to like him. Godric Gryffindor's sword sat on a lower shelf, but instead of being polished and bright, it was scorched and blackened. Draco knew it had something to do with Harry and Voldemort but no one had ever said and he had never asked. Harry never liked talking about Voldemort and who could blame him? Draco didn't like to either.

Draco eased into the chair and set his gaze on the old wizard. His silver beard was at least a good two feet long and he wore a tall pointed hat that bent to the side from the weight of the heavy material. His half-moon spectacles were perched on his crooked nose and did nothing to hide his sparkling blue eyes. "Well, sir. I've been thinking about our attendance problem-"

"Professor Malfoy, I refuse to entertain your resignation."

"Um…I'm not offering it, sir. Not today, anyway," he added sheepishly.

"I am glad to hear it."

"It's just that I think parents are pulling their students out because of the rubbish they read in the Daily Prophet. Not that I know what it says. I refuse to read that rag."

"Noted, Professor Malfoy."

"Anyway, the simple truth is, they just don't know me. Not that I was anyone particularly good to know before…but I think we can agree that I have shown-" He waggled his hands looking for the appropriate word-- "improvement," he finished.

"I have no arguments there, Draco."

Fawkes the phoenix cocked his head and aimed a yellow eye at Draco from his perch beside Dumbledore's desk. Draco rolled his shoulders feeling uncomfortable under the bird's stern gaze. "Well...wouldn't it help if they met me? I mean, invite them to Hogwarts to look around, ask questions, see that I'm different."

Dumbledore's eyes warmed and glittered. "And you would be willing to undergo this sort of scrutiny, Draco? I have no doubt that such an event will be decidedly unpleasant for you."

Draco sighed. "I just don't see any other way around it. More students left, haven't they?"

Dumbledore's smiling eyes faded. "I fear that is true."

"Then we must. Perhaps…before Christmas holiday?"

"To encourage them to come back?"

Draco shrugged.

"I will send the appropriate owls. And Draco, may I say that I applaud your courage. I do not know many wizards who would have the strength to endure what you are suggesting."

"Let's just hope it works."

* * *

Harry didn't like the idea but it simply wasn't working. Draco wasn't too keen on it either. "You just have to try harder."

"I can't do it, Draco. Don't you think I have tried?"

Harry sat slumped in a chair in his private rooms. Unlike Draco's situated behind the dangerous potions cabinet in the potions dungeon, Harry's rooms were in a tower overlooking some of the countryside surrounding Hogwarts. "I'm going to go meet him this afternoon in Hogsmeade. Flitwick said he was all right. And I need the help."

"I just don't like the idea of you working with someone you don't know on something like this."

"I'm just no good at Occlumency, Draco. And I want the students to learn it. They must."

"You never learned it."

"Yeah, well, I had Snape for a teacher and he didn't really want to teach me. But I sure could have used it."

"Well at least let me go with you."

"No, you've got your tutoring with McGonagall."

"Damn it. Can't you re-schedule?"

Harry looked at him for the first time. "You don't think I can handle this myself. Just how old do you think I am?"

"Of course I think you can handle this yourself," he muttered, turning away. "I just…want to be there…"

"To catch me when I fall? Dammit, Draco! Sometimes you treat me like a bloody child."

"Well sometimes you act like a bloody child."

Harry threw himself from the chair. "I'm going. Don't you have tutoring to go to?"

"Harry!"

He stopped but didn't turn around. "What?"

"Can I…is it all right…if I floo back here tonight?"

"I'll let you know."

He pushed passed Draco, trying to forget the hurt look on his face. But it was too bad. Sometimes he made Harry so angry! He hated it when Dumbledore used to treat him like a little child and he certainly didn't need it from Draco. He was the sodding slayer of Voldemort for pity's sake! Couldn't he make a simple transaction of his own in Hogsmeade?

He walked through the chilly arcade to the courtyard. Already the trees had been stripped of their leaves from an impending winter, but their brown husks whirled around his feet as he made his way alone to the main gate, golden from the low slant of the early evening sun. He looked back once to McGonagall's tower and briefly wondered how Draco's tutoring was going. Draco wouldn't talk about it much, but he supposed if he were failing he'd hear about it from Dumbledore. He shook his head and turned back to his path. He didn't like to get into arguments with Draco. Someone always ended up with hurt feelings and this time it was Draco. "He doesn't know how infuriating he can be," he muttered. "Treats me like a child." Harry had discussed getting an assistant with the headmaster first, of course. If his hiring this person to help in class with Occlumancy was all right with Dumbledore, then that should be good enough for Draco.

The brisk wind and flurries soon cooled his face. He welcomed the crisp air and scent of winter. He cast a warming charm over his cloak and hurried his pace down the long road to Hogsmeade.

He was supposed to meet this man at the Three Broom Sticks. Flitwick said his name was Cymbeline Sorenson which conjured an odd picture in Harry's mind. He imagined someone like Flitwick only younger.

Harry pushed through the doors of the Three Broom Sticks and was immediately accosted by patrons recognizing him. He'd been so sheltered at Hogwarts that he forgot that the rest of the Wizarding world was still thinking of him as a celebrity, worse than before he finished Voldemort off. He signed so many autographs on Chocolate Frog cards of himself that he lost count (he knew Draco had one in his wallet. He'd seen it. He just didn't know how he ever got it signed.) Madam Rosmerta saw the commotion and thankfully rescued him.

"Maybe give us a warning, Harry," she said to him as she pushed him in to a dark booth and shooed the well-wishers away. "I'd make sure only the regulars are here."

"Sorry. I didn't think."

She patted his shoulder. "That's all right. Does help the reputation of the place when you make these appearances though, I must say. Butterbeer?"

"Please. Thanks."

She left but came back hurriedly with his bottle. She snorted in disgust when he tried to pay and walked away, hips swaying. He took a swig of the bottle and looked around. He guessed his chance to meet anonymously with this Sorenson bloke was thrown out the window now. He leaned over and looked behind him into the darker corners of the tavern, but when he swung back around again, he jumped. A man stood next to his table as if he had apparated there, and for all Harry he knew he might have done. And then Harry looked him over and he received the second shock. He was stunningly handsome. Cedric Diggory handsome. He was Harry's age and blond with dark roots and dark brows to match, and under those brows were the deepest blue eyes Harry had ever seen. They were breath-taking, in fact, and Harry had to actually remember to breathe. His nose was long and straight and sculpted like a Greek statue's, and his mouth could only be described as sensuous and plump. Harry hadn't had a reaction to a strange man like that for a long time and he had to remind himself that Draco was waiting for him.

The man smiled, which made Harry's reaction worse. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you? Saw the mob earlier. I'm Cymbeline Sorenson. You can call me Cym." He put his hand out to shake. Harry was about to stand but thought better of it and simply took his hand in a firm grip and then gestured for Sorenson to sit opposite.

For a moment Harry was tongue-tied. He forgot everything he was going to say. What was the matter with him? Just because the chap was completely and incredibly gorgeous didn't mean he had to go all jelly-legged. This was absurd! He could handle this. "So." He moved his bottle in little circles on the table. "So…" Say something else, you prat! "So…" Oh much better! "Flitwick tells me you are an expert on Occlumency." Oh Merlin! I wish I was now!

"Yes. I learned it from Forrest Lakeminster. He certainly was a great wizard."

Lakeminster? Harry heard of the name. Old wizard. Older than Dumbledore and almost as famous. Dead now, though.

"Right. Well, as you may know, I'm teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and I'd like to teach my older students Occlumency. I really think it is one of the best defenses, though I wasn't able to learn it well myself. That's why I need an assistant. So it's only temporary. Maybe only a month."

"Sounds like fun. How old are we talking here?"

"Well, fifth years and up, really. You don't think that's too young?"

"Not at all. How many classes is that?"

"Only three a week. And I'd be supervising. I don't know what Hogwarts would pay you-"

"That really doesn't matter to me. To be teaching with the Great Harry Potter is a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

Harry felt his face grow warm. "You really can't be doing that. 'Great Harry Potter' stuff just doesn't fly at school. The other teachers would be hanging me out to dry." He made a little embarrassed laugh. "So what do you think?" Though Harry wasn't sure what he himself was thinking with his heart hammering in his chest. He was undeniably attracted to this bloke but he didn't have to lose all control! Steady on, Potter. What about Draco? With that thought, his heart slowed to a normal rhythm. Draco was the one who sent his heart racing and for good reason. He was incredibly sexy. Luscious, in fact. And more importantly, Harry was very much in love with him. That was far more important than some immediate fixation on some new pretty boy.

Harry raised his gaze to Sorenson's blue, blue eyes. Of course, it wasn't going to be a simple thing. Maybe the fellow would just say no. That would make life so much easier.

"You're on, Professor Potter."

Harry smiled and shook his hand again. Brilliant. So much for easier.


On to Chapter Four
"For Fun and Prophet"

Back to Chapter Two
"The Defense Teacher"

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