A Glimpse of the Other Side

Vivienne Hale's POV

The classroom is quieting down after the students leave, murmuring about the exercises we just did. I'm still on a high from the class—how much I enjoyed it, how they reacted to my lessons. There's a sense of excitement in their eyes, and that's what keeps me coming back.

Thorne is still here, hanging around as usual. His charm is endless, and sometimes I wonder if he has any other mode. We laugh easily, but I know he's here for a reason. He always has a reason for everything he does, and I don't mind it—most days.

But then the door opens, and I see him.

Professor Malfoy.

He strides in like he owns the place. No surprise there. He's been a teacher here for a while now. We've crossed paths before, but only in passing. He's made no secret of his cool indifference, which suits me just fine. I don't have time to play games with people who wear their pride like a badge of honor.

But today... he looks different. His expression is tight, more wary than I'm used to.

Thorne, who's always quick to pick up on the nuances of a situation, is leaning slightly toward me, trying to get my attention. His voice drops, but I can still hear the teasing edge. "Not your usual guest, huh?"

I give him a polite smile, but my eyes are already on Draco. He's standing there, frozen for a moment, as if calculating whether to say something or walk away. He doesn't walk away. He glances at me, eyes narrowing just a little, then he speaks.

"You've got a knack for keeping students' attention," he says, his voice low but cutting through the stillness. "And you seem to be... everywhere."

I blink. "What do you mean?"

Thorne chuckles softly, sensing the undercurrent of tension, but I ignore him for now.

"I mean," Draco continues, "you have an undeniable presence. And I don't mean just in the classroom." He gestures vaguely toward the door, his gaze flickering to Thorne. "It's... hard not to notice."

The words hang in the air for a moment. I'm not sure how to take them. He doesn't seem angry—more confused or unsettled, which is odd.

"I'm not sure what you're getting at," I reply, careful not to give too much away. There's something about the way he's looking at me that makes me want to step back. I'm not here to make enemies.

He's silent for a moment, his expression still tense, like he's wrestling with something.

Then, with a quick exhale, he mutters, "You're... good. I'm not sure about Callahan's role in all of this, but you... you've got potential." My brows furrow. "Thanks?"

The words feel strangely condescending, even though I know he didn't mean them that way. It's Draco Malfoy after all—he's never been one to hide his opinion, no matter how hard he tries to make it sound neutral.

Before I can say anything more, he turns on his heel, and just like that, he's gone. A few murmured words to Thorne, a quiet step out of the classroom, and the door closes with a click.

"Interesting," Thorne says, his voice rising in the silence.

I don't respond at first. I just stare at the door, wondering why his visit felt like more than just a casual check-in.

"He's not exactly the friendliest guy, is he?" Thorne adds, breaking my reverie.

I shake my head. "He's Draco Malfoy. He's complicated."

Thorne shrugs and picks up his bag. "True. But if you ask me, the man's more than a little prickly when it comes to new people."

I smile, but it doesn't quite reach my eyes. Draco's words feel like a strange, weighty thing I don't know how to carry. But I'll get there. I always do.

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I'm bent over a stack of parchment, marking student work when I hear the door creak open behind me. Without looking up, I already know who it is. The soft shuffle of footsteps, the way they pause just a moment before entering the room—it's Thorne.

"Did you need anything, or are you just here to disrupt my peace again?" I ask, my voice light, though I know he can hear the smile in it.

Thorne laughs, low and easy. He's the type who makes everything sound like an inside joke, even when it's not. "Just thought I'd come by and see if you needed help. You know, since I'm basically your unpaid assistant at this point."

I look up at him then, seeing that familiar, almost boyish grin. He stands just inside the door, as if he's debating on whether to stay or leave.

"You know, you're not so much 'unpaid' as 'underappreciated,'" I reply, teasing as I straighten up. "You've been a huge help, and I couldn't have asked for a better assistant. The kids loved you already, so they love me too now"

I glance back down at the pile of papers, trying to focus, but there's something so comforting about Thorne's presence. He's always been good at making people feel at ease, like he's got nothing but time for them. That's one of the reasons I feel so comfortable with him.

He steps closer, his eyes flicking to the papers on my desk. "Anything I can help with today? You've been on your own in here for a bit. What's got you so focused?" I smile softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "It's just grading. But I have to admit, I'd rather be teaching than sitting in here marking papers."

"And I don't know why McGonagall made it mandatory for me to give out essays. This is a practical class, Headmistress"

Thorne raises an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. "You're not one to be bogged down by details, are you? I think that's what makes you such a good teacher." I roll my eyes playfully. "Don't start. You know I get nervous when people say things like that. I'm just trying to get through the day."

"No, I'm serious." Thorne's tone is sincere, and that catches me off guard. "You've got this... thing. The students listen to you, Vivienne. They don't just see you as the teacher; they actually feel what you say."

I pause, setting the quill down. The unexpected compliment makes me feel a little flustered, but I hide it behind a smile. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Not a problem," he says easily, but his gaze lingers on me for a moment, like he's thinking something else entirely.

Before I can respond, a knock on the door pulls both our attention. A moment later, the door swings open, and in walks Draco Malfoy, his usual cool demeanor a little less... well, cool today. He stands in the doorway for a second, almost hesitant, but I'm sure it's my imagination.

"I'm here to observe," he says without much preamble, his tone like he's trying to sound neutral.

"Again" Thorne lets out a chuckle, clearly entertained. "If I'd known you were coming, I'd have put on a show, Malfoy."

Draco's eyes narrow, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "I didn't ask for entertainment."

I notice, though, that his gaze lingers on me. Just a fraction of a second, but it's enough. His expression softens just slightly, something I rarely see from him.

I clear my throat, stepping away from the desk. "Well, then, please make yourself comfortable. We'll get started shortly."