Work Text:
Matches by Malcolm
Hermione read over the missive to Lord Flint one final time before folding and sealing it. Her gorgeous owl Athena gave a soft hoot as she tied it to her leg.
“Lord Flint will probably give you a treat, spoiled girl,” Hermione said fondly to the bird and she could see the owl’s eyes brighten at the idea. She stretched her wings out and gave a final hoot in goodbye before taking off and soaring out of Hermione’s office window.
Flint’s son Malcom was one of her favourite students, but since the start of school four months ago his grades and effort had flipped one hundred and eighty degrees, going from one of her top students to rarely turning in assignments and putting in the absolute minimum effort possible. She’d decided that it was time to have a talk with his father to see if there had been any changes at home that would change Malcolm's behaviour so spectacularly for the worse.
Satisfied that Athena would be back later, hopefully with Flint’s reply, Hermione headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. She spotted Malcolm sitting at the Slytherin table with the boys she knew had been his friends for the last four years during their time at Hogwarts. He was picking at his food, barely eating anything, and while most other professor’s wouldn’t have noticed the reactions of the other boys, Hermione clearly saw them all exchange a worried look. Something had happened, and it was an event that Malcolm’s friends clearly knew something about.
She picked at her own dinner and went to bed that night worried about the possible events that could have happened. She woke the next morning to Lord Flint’s reply to her note, telling her that he would be happy to meet with her the following Saturday, for lunch if she was amenable, to discuss the recent goings on at Flint Manor.
Hermione was the kind of professor who believed in being as transparent as possible with her students, and she had already told Malcolm she would be owling his father about his grades. She held him back for a minute after his next class with her to let him know that she’d heard back.
“Malcolm, I’m going to be meeting with your father on Saturday for lunch. I don’t know how long that talk is going to take but you’re welcome to join us. You’re a mature lad who I believe deserves to have his own opinions heard about whatever is going on.”
“I… Thank you, Professor. What time is he coming?” the boy asked and she smiled at him.
“He agreed to one thirty. We’ll just be here in my office,” she replied warmly and he gave her a small smile.
“I’ll think about it, okay? If I do plan on coming I’ll let you know after class on Friday,” Malcolm promised and she nodded.
“I look forward to it. Now scurry off, best not to be late for your potions class,” she dismissed him kindly and he gave her a genuine grin for a second before turning around and leaving her room.
He really is such a good boy, Hermione thought to herself as she set to grading the papers that his class had just turned in to her.
The next two days went by quickly, and as he had promised, Malcolm had let her know that he would like to join her meeting with his father the next day. Hermione woke up the next morning and got ready to meet, or rather re-meet, Marcus Flint. Being the weekend she was allowed to dress down so she went for a business casual look with nice dark jeans, black dragonhide boots, and her favourite maroon cashmere sweater. She spent the morning in her quarters, curled up comfortably in her armchair reading one of the many books that she had in her personal collection. One o’clock came and she set her book down, checking her appearance once more in the mirror before going to her office.
Malcolm walked in with his father thirty minutes later, and the pair sat down on her couch.
“Lord Flint, Malcolm, I’m glad you both came.”
“Please, call me Marcus. Lord Flint sounds so stuffy. My son has said you invited him to join us for lunch,” Marcus said and Hermione immediately nodded.
“He’s a smart young man and I think he deserves to speak for himself in this discussion,” Hermione said calmly. “I know I’m only his professor but I am a firm believer in my students being able to trust that I will keep their confidence unless they tell me otherwise."
She was surprised when Marcus looked impressed and pleased with her response, simply saying, “Alright,” in agreement.
“I am here to listen as your professor, Malcolm, and I hope that the rapport we’ve built in the last five years will mean something to you. I’m not here to judge either of you, because I want the best for you. I’m aware that the professors here aren’t meant to have favourite students but I’m willing to admit that you are one of mine and have been since your first term of school.”
Malcolm’s mouth hung open and Marcus laughed at the shocked expression on his face.
“Professor Granger, you have just made my weekend. Close your mouth bud, you’re gonna catch flies with that,” he chuckled and Malcolm snapped his jaw shut.
Before either of the adults could say another word, Malcolm spoke up.
“My grades have tanked because I don't like that my dad is dating again and I don’t think he’s dating the right people. All of them just want a share of his title or his money and they don’t actually care about either of us, especially not me. I’m angry that none of them care the way they’re supposed to and my friends are trying to help me see the bright side of my dad finding a wife, but it’s always been just the two of us.”
Whatever Hermione had been expecting, it wasn’t that. She glanced over at Marcus and expected to see the Pureblood mask she had become so used to. But his emotions were clear on his face as he looked at his only child.
“Why haven’t you mentioned this to me? I had no idea that this was on your mind so much,” he said, reaching over to put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder.
“I didn’t want to say anything because you looked happy. But have any of them shown any actual interest in your relationship with me? Or in the things you’re passionate about? Do they know that you run the Quidditch Little League?”
Marcus pursed his lips and didn’t say anything. Hermione just listened, wondering what, if anything, she could say during such a personal conversation.
“I didn’t ask for your input on who I was choosing to take on dates and in hindsight I’m seeing I should have. You speak to the kids your age who have better insight into single witches and wizards at all the social events we go to, but even more important is that who I choose as my partner, wife, whatever, directly impacts you, and that witch needs to be invested in us both and not just me. I’m sorry, Malcolm,” Marcus said and the boy shrugged.
Hermione waited a moment before softly asking, “Malcolm, why are your grades only falling in my class? I’ve spoken with your other teachers and they say that you’ve still consistently turned in good work for all of them.”
“Professor, are you saying that he is intentionally trying to fail your class?”
“That is how it appears, Marcus. And please, call me Hermione,” she said with a small smile.
“Malcolm, is this true?” Marcus asked, and Malcolm began to intently study the grain of her wood floor as he mumbled something.
“Hey, we’ve talked about the mumbling thing. Speak up bud, what is going on?”
“Yes, okay? I am intentionally failing Professor Granger’s class right now. And it has everything to do with the fact that I know how much she cares about me as a person, not just as one of her hundreds of students, and I know you, Dad, and this was the only way I could think of forcing you two to interact with each other. I know you’re dating all the wrong witches because you haven’t properly met the right one, and I think Professor Granger is the right one.”
It was Hermione’s turn for her mouth to hang open in shock for a few seconds before she snapped it shut. Marcus spluttered for a minute before finally choking out, “You… you want me to date your teacher? Your favourite teacher no less, because you truly never stop talking about how amazing her lectures are.”
“He does?” she blurted out before looking directly at the boy. “You do?”
Malcolm gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged. “You’re the best professor ever. You always make sure that everyone in the room understands the theory behind the spell before we ever try to cast it, and your tutoring sessions for any class in the evenings mean all of us have a comfortable place to study with one of the smartest witches in the world. So yeah, you’re my personal favourite and I’m not shy about letting my dad know.”
Hermione blushed at the praise from her student before her eye caught his dad staring at her.
“Anything to add to Malcolm’s thoughts, Lord Flint?” she asked him and he cocked his head to the side for a second before nodding and turning to look at his son.
“Malcolm, I think you might just be truly brilliant.”
“What?” Hermione shouted and Marcus gave her a pointed look.
“We were a few years apart during school. Even as a third year, you left an impression on anyone you spoke to. Malcolm knows me probably better than anyone, and I’d be willing to trust his judgement on this. Obviously the final say is yours, and if you need to clear anything with the Headmistress I’m more than willing to jump through hoops to keep it all above board and keep your career safe.”
“I… well… I just… I don’t know what to say,” Hermione stammered out and Malcolm spoke up.
“Say you’ll go talk to Headmistress McGonagall. I’ll go with you. Please, Professor?”
Hermione looked at the young man across from her, pleading to just once give him and his father any kind of chance.
“I’m not looking for a husband, Malcolm, I barely date at all. No one wants to date the bookworm Professor, I made my peace with that a long time ago,” she said softly, the resignation creeping into her tone.
“Well they’re all morons then,” the boy stated firmly. “I know my dad wasn't the best student during school but he certainly isn’t scared or intimidated by a smart woman. Weaker wizards are, and that’s obviously who you’ve been forced to interact with.”
“He’s right, Hermione. Full disclosure, an intelligent woman just turns me on. I would love to listen to you talk about your academic passions, or why you chose to become a Professor,” Marcus said, sitting up and leaning towards her.
“I’m not asking you to marry me. Just give me one meal. Lunch or dinner, I don’t care. I know you’re very busy with school so any of your weekend time that is open I will take. Let me get to know you, and give you the chance to know me. No expectations other than friends, okay?”
Hermione could tell he was being genuine, and two pairs of green eyes practically begged her to say yes. An incredulous laugh escaped her and she finally said, “Okay. I’ll ask Minerva if I can meet with her tomorrow.”
Malcolm leapt off the couch and whooped with excitement, making both his father and his professor laugh.
“Don’t get your hopes up too much there bud,” Marcus warned with a smile, but even that didn’t dim the boy’s excitement. Hermione spoke up with her own warning that did calm him though.
“Malcolm, I’m agreeing to this on one very specific condition. No more punishing your dad or yourself by intentionally slacking in my class. I expect your grades to drastically improve back to their former level, do you understand me?”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied immediately, looking her square in the eye. “No more slacking off, I swear.”
“Good lad,” she said with a smile. “Now, how about we actually eat lunch? I don’t know about you, gentlemen, but I am starving.”
“Yes, please,” the Flint wizards said together and Hermione snapped her fingers, their lunch appearing in front of them. The three wix tucked in and Hermione felt abnormally calm about the very unexpected arrangement she had just agreed to.