It Meant Family

20th of October 1993

"And the room smelled like she was lying." - ZEMI: A New Spelling of My Name, Audre Lorde

Hogwarts, Scotland

Professor Babbling had a chin-up, shoulders-down, unapologetically intelligent attitude that students found both admirable and intimidating. She had piercing brown eyes and dark black hair that reminded Harry of the Spanish tutor Sirius and Remus had arranged for him when he was younger. His father spoke the language fluently and they wanted him to know it too, he'd been good at it, but, regrettably, hadn't used it much since starting at Hogwarts.

That morning, the professor had tasked them, in her loud and determined northern Irish accent, with transcribing a poem she'd written on the board into their notebooks using old Norse runes to get used to the alphabet. Harry and Hermione sat next to each other in the front row and worked in silence, the pair of Slytherins occupying the desk behind them whispered tauntingly.

"It's no surprise really," said Zabini "the Potters have always been blood traitors." Harry only caught parts of the conversation and tried his best to ignore it, dedicating most of his attention to making sure not to mistake the mannaz rune with the dagaz, but Hermione seemed much more bothered, pulling her head up from her assignment to glare at the two boys on the other desk. "Take his father for exemple, married a mudblood" he spat, enjoying the word "and ended up dead. Good riddance." Malfoy made a point to laugh audibly for them to hear.

"Something you'd like to share with the class?" Professor Babbling walked towards them unamused, she waved her wand and his notebook flew to her hand, she glanced at it and snapped it shut, putting it back on the desk as she finally stood next to them. "If you're having trouble with your work Mr. Malfoy, then maybe Mr. Potter can be of some assistance when he's finished with his."

Harry turned around to see the interaction allowing the Slytherins to see his pages, nearly filled with perfectly drawn runes. Zabini laughed at his friend's misfortune and the professor looked at his dry quill and closed inkwell.

"And perhaps Miss Granger can help you." His face lightened several shades and no traces of a smile could be found in his new expression. "If the two of you aren't done by the end of the lesson, you can meet me here after dinner for detention."

"But, professor, there's Quidditch practice tonight." Argued the blond.

"I fail to see your point, Mr. Malfoy." She walked back to the front of the class and turned on her heels to face them, putting an end to the conversation.

Professor Babbling watched the rest of the students rushing to return to their assignments, trying to pretend they hadn't been watching the scene unfold and with the taunting silenced, Hermione caught up to Harry quickly and they finished their work almost at the same time.

They got up and walked to the professor's desk together, the sound of their shoes clicking against the stone floor echoed as the rest of the class sat in utter silence. She smiled at their assignments approvingly, waving them back to their seats.

Harry turned to the last page of his notebook and, with a charcoal pencil, began drawing on it, Hermione, pulled her copy of Rune Dictionary from her bag and gave it her undivided focus, underlying and circling pieces of information she considered interesting or relevant. Behind them, Malfoy and Zabini ran their quills feverishly and nervously on their parchments, desperate to make up for the wasted time, much to the Gryffindors' amusement.

It seemed like a positive change of pace compared to the Potions class they'd had just before. Unlike Professor Snape, Bathsheda Babbling seemed much less inclined to favouritism and had no issue insisting that the two Slytherins return that night for detention given that they had been unable to finish their work before the end of lesson.