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He stormed into her office at the end of the first week.
"Granger-"
"Professor Granger," she interrupted. He glared at her.
"Granger," he growled, "please explain to me why all the Slytherin first years are finite incantatem ing everything they can point their wand at?"
"Oh! They're practicing outside of class? How wonderful!"
"Wonderful? They're disrupting all the older students. The girls are furious about their glamour charms and the boys are furious their pranks have gone awry.”
Granger waved her hand at him. “None of those girls need makeup charms to begin with and I think, as their head of house, you should be thrilled about the pranks. They’re rarely as clever as they think.” It had only been a week since Hermione Granger had started at Hogwarts as the new charms professor, but she was already making changes. He didn’t like it.
“Why are they even learning finite encantatem anyway? It’s a second-year spell.”
She scoffed. “It bloody well shouldn’t be. Can you imagine anything more important than a charm canceling spell? Can you imagine how many mishaps could have been avoided if we’d learned it earlier? Besides, it was a good ice breaker for the first years.”
Draco didn’t like thinking about his Hogwarts years. They were embarrassing to say the least, shameful. When he’d finished his potions mastery, he couldn’t have imagined coming back to the school, but Horace Slughorn had been his mentor since Severus had died, and upon passing his exams, Horace all but tricked him into taking the post. He didn’t expect to be welcomed back, but to his surprise, Headmistress McGonagall—or rather, Minerva—had been quite pleased to have him on staff. Apparently, the quality of the potions tutelage had fallen off in the last few years. He sought to find a happy medium between the meritocratic teaching style of Horace and the downright abusive style of Sevenrus. Not that his godfather and head of house had been abusive to him, but he recognized that his familial regard for Draco did not extend to his other students.
He was reluctant to ask but did so anyway. “What’s an ice breaker?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” Her enthusiasm was not as infectious as she probably hoped. “An ice breaker is an activity that helps break the ice, so to speak. It’s a way for people to get to know each other. In this case, I glamoured playing cards and once students successfully finite the charm, they had to find their matches around the room. It brought everyone out of their comfort zone to mingle with children they’d never encountered before.”
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose before walking away.
***
Every Slytherin that wasn’t a first year was complaining about the new charms professor. Thankfully, it wasn't due to her blood status. His first order of business following the sorting was to shut down any hint of blood prejudice in his house. The war had changed things, but there were still a few old families that had skirted the war, hiding abroad and staying “neutral," that continued to harbor blood-related bigotry, but as more half-bloods and even a few muggleborns got sorted into the snake pit, any issues were quickly addressed.
No, the grumblings about Granger were directly related to her teaching style. Three weeks into the school year and everyone second year and above was still stuck in review. Meanwhile, the first years were scattered around the common room (and throughout the rest of the castle) clapping out parts of spells, shouting at the top of their lungs. It needed addressing.
He knocked on her half-opened office door before pushing it open all the way. To his surprise, the young Vincent Goyle was at the desk, sitting alongside Granger, as they both pored over a piece of parchment. Draco cleared his throat and they both jumped. Goyle scrambled to gather his things before running out the door.
"Granger, why is it every student above year one is complaining about you class and the firsties are running around clapping and shouting?"
Granger clapped her own hands in response. "They're practicing their snappy spells!"
Draco sighed. Deeply. "What the- What are snappy spells?"
"They're not actually spells. Or not complete ones, anyway. It's Latin. We're working on common Latin roots to build foundational language skills, so when we start working on specific charms, the pronunciation comes more naturally." She blinked up at him as he gaped.
"That's…" He didn't want to say brilliant, even though he knew her response to the compliment would be a sincere smile rather than a smug smirk. He wasn't ready for that. "Not an explanation for why they're clapping."
"The clapping helps build phonological awareness." She clapped her hands as she slowly pronounced the spell. "Le-vee-O-sah."
"Phono- No, nevermind. I don't want to know. Tell me about the older students."
She narrowed her eyes. "I don't answer to you, Malfoy-"
"Professor Malfoy," he interjected with a smirk. "The members of my house are whining about charms and I'd like to give them an explanation."
She sighed. "If you must know, I'm conducting a thorough assessment of each student, both on charms and basic academics, to determine where the class is collectively, who is in need of remediation, and who would benefit from enrichment opportunities." She spoke with authority that first year teachers rarely exhibited. He certainly hadn't in his first year.
"But that- We've never- Hogwarts is a-" He sputtered out a variety of responses, unable to finish a single thought. "This is how it's always been done!"
Granger stood, no longer cheerful and excited. "The Hogwarts curriculum has been stagnant for centuries. The education system is outdated and in desperate need of an update to align with modern pedagogical practices. In charms, at least, my students will learn a progressive curriculum in which they develop foundational skills in their early years and build towards a thorough understanding of, not just spells, but how those spells are designed. I will not be a part of sending ignorant witches and wizards into this world with only rudimentary skills."
What could he say? She wasn't wrong. In fact, she was painfully right. But instead of responding, he spun on his heel and left.
***
He was walking down the corridor around the corner from the charms classroom when classical music drew him in. As he moved closer to the room, the volume increased and mingled with the sounds of squeals and giggles.
"Make them big!" He heard Granger holler. Peeking in, he witnessed his colleague standing on a chair holding… Was that her wand? No, it was just a stick that she was waving through the air. The music, big and bold, blared. "Show me, wingardium leviosa !" In unison, the entire class of first years began swishing and flicking in time with the music. "Lovely!"
While he watched, Granger flicked her own wand at the gramophone in the corner and the music changed, now softer and quieter. "And make your movements small. Good. Lumos and then nox . Lovely! Well done!" She spied Draco lurking at the door. "Continue working your way through the movements on the board in time with the music. Remember, we move with intention. Let the music guide you."
She walked across the room and stepped through the door, closing it behind her. "Can I help you, Professor Malfoy?"
"I heard the music and I…" He trailed off watching through the window as a student demonstrated a movement for her neighbor, slowing down and exaggerating the wrist manipulation. "Those aren't wands."
"Oh, heavens no. I don't need magic flying all over the place while we practice. Those are batons, like an orchestra conductor uses." She watched her students fondly. "Most wand movements are on the beat, so I want them to get used to steady, controlled movements. You'll find that most problems in spellcasting come from either mispronunciation and incomplete or mistimed wand movements. We're building muscle memory today."
He had no rejoinder, no scathing criticism. Instead, he watched through the window as children—they were children, all of them at Hogwarts were children—took their early steps into their magical education with joy.
"Looks like fun."
***
With how often he made the trek, it would be decidedly more convenient if his office in the dungeons had more direct access to the charms classroom, but Hogwarts being what it was, the journey took more than 20 minutes and involved going up three flights of stairs and back down two, assuming the moving staircase were moving along their anticipated routes. He left a trembling Mr. Goyle, the younger, obviously, behind and clutched the simple, but factually accurate essay his third year student had just turned in. It must have been written by or copied from another student. He insisted it was his own work and told Draco that Professor Granger was helping him with his studies.
"Granger-" He pushed through the classroom door and her standing on a table as she affixed colorful parchment to an equally colorful board in the side of the classroom. "What in earth are you doing?"
Startled, she stumbled backwards, seems flailing as she fell off the table. Draco leapt forward and caught her with an "Oomph." He held her a moment longer than strictly necessary, before setting her back on the ground.
"What do you think?" She gestured at the board. He stared, first at her, then the board. There were dozens of drawing stuck on the wall, all different but using the same color palette. "I've been discussion dueling with my fourth years. Each student selected a famous duel and drew a visual representation of the spells used. Each line represents a spell and it's wand motion."
He stepped closer and noticed each piece of parchment had a title, Albus Dumbledore vs Tom Riddle . He recoiled. But as he scanned the rest of the board, realized that it wasn't just duels from the second war. Plenty of famous fights were depicted on the wall. Some were simple, thin lines clearly delineating spells he recognized. Others were a riot of color, abstract, beautiful and tragic when he realized the green of Avada Kedavra was slashed across the page.
His temper melted away as he realized how impactful this project was, showing students the chaos and grace of magic, but also its deadly conclusion in many cases.
"Students learn in different ways," she said quietly. "For some, like me, reading is the best way to absorb information. Reading and taking notes. Others learn visually, seeing spells in action and drawing diagrams of them will aid in comprehension. And others, like young Mr. Goyle," she gestured to the parchment in his hand. "Others learn aurally. They can hear the information and absorb it."
"This is why I'm here." He leaned against the table, looking down at the east in his hand, answers to his questions already becoming clear. "I accused him of cheating. He said to talk to you."
Granger hopped and sat on the table next to him. She took the essay and read it quickly. It was basic. A short introduction explaining what the essay was about. Three paragraph with three facts supporting his introduction. And a conclusion. It was not well-written by any stretch of the imagination, but it completed the assignment and the information was correct. It was a passing essay.
"Vincent can't read. And before you say anything about his level of intelligence, and yes, I remember his father from my Hogwarts days, understand that his inability to read is not his fault. It's the fault of everyone who let him get this far without asking why he can't read." He heard the implication in her voice. She sighed. "I'm pretty sure that Vincent is dyslexic. It's a learning disability in which his brain works differently than a typically developing child's. His brain can see all the same letters that yours does, but it can't interpret those letters to form words. Everything gets mixed up and outwardly, it looks like he's illiterate."
Draco looked down at the essay in his hand. "How did he accomplish this?"
"That answer is two-fold. First, I've been working with him to learn strategies that can help him with reading. Just pointing at each word as he reads and hiding the next line or word can help. But, more importantly, I've taught him a spell that reads books aloud to him."
"But that's-"
"It's not cheating. It's an accommodation. Vincent struggles with the written word, but can absorb and understand aurally. I simply showed him how. Now he can do the reading and understand the material. I also gave him a self-writing quill, so he can dictate his essays. With the two strategies, I suspect we'll see a significant improvement in his work over time."
She was astonishing. Her level of care, her innovation, the way she engaged her students was so far and beyond anything he knew or experienced. He came to Hogwarts with a potion mastery and stacks of old lesson plans from his predecessors, but what she was doing was revolutionary.
When he lifted his head, she was looking at him. Her eyes wide and gleaming. The impulse took him and his lips were on hers. She gasped in surprise before settling in. His hand reached up and cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss, his lips and tongue expressing his feelings better than any words could.
He pulled away at the sound of students running past the door, shouting at each other as they moved through the castle.
"Can I see you later? To discuss… lesson plans."
She smiled and hopped off the table, leading him to the door. He followed in a daze. "Come by my rooms tonight. I'm always happy to discuss modern pedagogy in depth with a colleague." He stepped into the corridor and looked back at Hermione, framed by the door with a cheeky grin on her face. "And Draco? Perhaps we can explore that competence kink further as well." She winked and closed the door, leaving him on the outside, dumbfounded and incredibly turned on.