A/N:

I'm sorry it took so long, real life taking over... I also had wanted to give you a longer chapter, but reckon you'd probably prefer to have this much now rather than waiting any longer. I might have to go for more, but not so lengthy chapters.

Professor Romberg

Hermione caught up with the others, who were already gathered outside the clinical teaching room, waiting for the beginning of Diagnostic Spells.

"Poor old Snape," remarked Cho as Hermione joined them. "After all we know about him now, he didn't deserve to end up like that."

"Well, I don't know, he sure is as nasty as ever," said Richard, who was standing behind her.

"I cannot believe 'ee would make us taste ze potions," the Beauxbatons girl complained.

"Vot is the problem? Makes you be more careful, does it not?" countered the handsome guy Hermione didn't know.

"But we arrh only students. What if someone eez poisoned? It eez irresponsible!"

"You are too squeamish. At Durmstrang we were used to vorse than that. I think Snape is really cool. And he vos a war hero, vos he not? Fooled everyone to think he vos the villain of the piece – how vicked is that?" Then he had spotted Hermione. "And here we have another war hero! Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin, First Class!" Behind him, Patricia made a snorting sound, which he ignored. "It is great to meet you. I'm Dmitry Korotkov," he said, extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you, too, Dmitry," she replied, shaking his hand. "And... Don't mention the war."

"I see. Everyone vonts to forget, right? Very well, I von't ask."

"Well, well, all ready and eager to get started?"

Hermione looked around at the source of the unfamiliar voice and saw their professor, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, unlocking the door to the class room, bidding them in. As they all flocked inside, the first thing she noticed was that the clinical teaching room had neither desks nor work benches, except for the teacher's desk at the front. Instead, there were a number of chairs and four examination couches. The six students stood around unsure of what they were expected to do.

"For now, just pick a chair and sit down," their professor instructed them. He was beaming, but somehow, his grey eyes didn't join in with the rest of his face, appearing cold and calculating as they looked the class over.

"Right then, let me introduce myself. I am Professor Romberg, and apart from teaching on this programme, I am also a world-class Healer. I will be instructing you in Diagnostic Spells, the Art of investigating the human body with our eyes, hands, and magic. Oh, yes, eyes and hands, too! Over the course of my very successful career I have often found observation and palpation to be just as important as spells, so we will start with these basics before you will even pick up your wands."

He gave them a broad smile, revealing a row of sparkling white teeth, so perfect that Hermione, as the daughter of two dentists, suspected that there had to be some spellwork involved. Indeed, Professor Romberg seemed like a man who put much store into his appearance. His wavy blond hair was perfectly groomed, as was his short goatee beard. His robes were of a dark blue material that looked very expensive, like raw silk, and were delicately embroidered with golden vines around the hem and neckline. His right hand was adorned by a heavy gold ring in the shape of a heart, encrusted with diamonds and a large red ruby.

"Now, by its very nature, this subject is quite practical and hands-on. You will be working in pairs, practicing on each other. This will usually involve a degree of undress, so in the future, you might want to give a bit of consideration to your choice of underwear."

There were several embarrassed looks in the class room at that revelation. Hermione tried to remember what bra she had put on that morning, when Professor Romberg reassured them.

"No worries, not today. Today we will start with something very basic: locating and feeling the various pulse points of the body. You can keep most of your clothes on for this. Now, before you start, come gather around at the front. I will show you the techniques you are to practice today. Who's going to volunteer to be the patient? Ah, this lovely girl here... You must be Miss LaRoche. Come over here."

There was a look of surprise on Virginie's face. She had obviously not wanted to volunteer at all, and seemed somewhat uncomfortable to be picked out. Hesitantly, she walked up to the front of the class while the others gathered around in a semi-circle.

"Fabulous... Now, you are no doubt familiar with the pulsus radialis, felt at the wrist... here." He had taken hold of Virginie's arm, laying his fingers onto the delicate pale skin of her wrist.

"But the brachialis is perhaps unknown to you. There... Find the biceps tendon and slide to the inside like this." His fingers trailed up along the girl's arm and now dug into the crook of her elbow.

"The strongest pulse you will find at the carotid artery to the side of the neck. Now watch closely as I'll show you how." His hands stroked through Virginie's sumptuous blonde curls, moving them aside to expose her neck, and the girls discomfort seemed to grow. "Never press too hard and only one side at a time," he said as he laid his right index finger on her neck, his left hand still entangled in her hair.

"Now on to the feet and legs. Get on the couch, please, and take off your shoes and socks." Virginie looked uncertain, but complied nonetheless.

"The dorsalis pedis can be quite difficult to locate in some people. Generally it should be about here." He was standing behind the couch, his fingers resting lightly just above Virginie's big toe. He went on to show them how to locate and feel the pulses at the ankle and in the bend of the knee. But then his hand ventured higher, disappearing underneath Virginie's skirt.

"The inguinal pulse should always be strong and quite easy to feel..." he elaborated, whilst the girl's eyes widened in shock and she blushed furiously. "... About halfway between the hip bone and the pubic bone... there. Easy, you see?"

They could not, in fact, see anything he was doing, only that the subject of his examination appeared rather distressed, her eyes brimming with tears once more. Hermione felt somewhat alarmed, and so apparently did Dmitry, for he raised his hand and said, "I think that's enough demonstration, Professor. May we try ourselves now?"

"Of course you may." His hand slipped out from under Virginie's skirt, somewhat reluctantly. Her face was still a deep shade of pink.

"Well, well, Miss LaRoche, blushing? You will have to learn to control your reactions. As a Healer you will be faced with many different bodies, some attractive, some revolting. It would be highly unprofessional for you to blush, show embarrassment, or disgust. You will have to learn to maintain a sense of professional detachment.

Now find a partner and get yourselves a couch. And if you need help just ask, and I'll come over."

Of course, Cho and Richard immediately paired up. Patricia had perhaps felt put out that the most attractive male had been lavishing his attention on Hermione earlier on, or perhaps she thought working with him would gain her an advantage. In any case, she now seemed determined to secure Dmity as a partner.

"If we have to touch each other's bodies, I cannot possibly work with that Mudblood," she told him with a disparaging gesture towards Hermione, "so it seems I'll have to work with you."

"I'm afraid my blood is a little muddy as vell," Dmitry replied. "I think Hermione and I need to work together, so we von't sully anyone. Do you mind Hermione?"

"Not at all," Hermione replied, trying not to look smug. At the same time, a part of her worried whether she would be able to keep herself from blushing if she was to look at and feel Dmitry's body for the remainder of the lesson. It also earned her another venomous look from Patricia.

Dmitry really was incredibly handsome. As she sat on the couch and held out her arm for him, she couldn't help but let her eyes roam. His thick brown hair was cut short at the back and sides, leaving some to fall onto his forehead. His eyes were a lively shade of olive, set in a face of harmonious proportions with a strong jaw line. He was clean shaven but for a slight five o'clock shadow, which, unlike Ron's red fluff, made him look quite manly for his age. His body was athletic with wide shoulders and strong arms, but his hands were slim and seemed perfectly suited to a Healer. They were warm and confident as they found her pulse points.

"Vill it be O.K. if I feel your inguinal pulse?" he asked. "If you prefer not, just say no."

"It's fine," she assured him, unzipping the fly of her jeans and pulling the fabric down as far as possible.

As his fingers gently pressed on the right spot in her groin, his other hand resting reassuringly on her arm, she was prepared to list the ingredients of Feverfew draught in her head, but it wasn't necessary. For some reason, she felt very much at ease with Dmitry. He had such a calm, sympathetic manner. He really would make a great Healer, she thought, not without a little envy and self-doubt. She had an analytical mind and a good memory for facts, but she worried that her people skills were no match for Dmitriy's.

They swapped over and had a few more turns each, while Professor Romberg relaxed in his chair at the front, watching their efforts with his feet up on his desk and his hands folded in his lap. Nobody asked for his help apart from Patricia. She'd had no choice but to pair up with Virginie, bossing her around during the entire lesson. She seemed to take devilish joy in the other girl's anguished look in the presence of their teacher.

When the bell finally signalled the end of the lesson Dmitry let out a sigh of relief.

"Lunchtime! I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Everyone except for Patricia went to the hospital canteen together. Hermione, too, was hungry, but she was utterly disappointed by the food on offer. St Mungo's fare was nothing like the sumptuous meals they had enjoyed at Hogwarts. The vegetables looked pale and limp, like they'd had all flavour cooked out of them, the meat was shrivelled and unappealing, even the pumpkin juice seemed off.

"Ze food eez 'orrible!" Virginie complained as she sat around a table with Hermione and Dmitry, while Cho and Richard had chosen a table of their own. "You cannot eat any of zis!"

She had only got a cup of coffee on her tray, pulling a disgusted face when she took the first sip.

"Looks quite edible to me," Dmitry replied as he tucked into a burned pie and colourless mashed potatoes.

"Edible it may be, but hardly enjoyable..." Hermione mumbled, chewing on a rubbery piece of fish and tasteless carrots.

Virginie vanished the content of her cup and got up to leave. "I'm going to see if zere eez something else. See you later."

"Good riddance..." Dmitry muttered under his breath, as the blonde walked away. "I don't know who's vorse – the vile Slytherin or this one with her constant complaining. I hope you don't mind working with me. You're the only sensible person on this course."

"Not at all. But Cho and Richard are actually alright."

"Those two love birds? Maybe... If they ever come out of their own little vorld."

Dmitry had finished his food in no time, and Hermione pushed her plate away as well. She felt like she couldn't get down another bite.

"Half an hour until the next class. Want to check out the library?" she asked.

"Yes, let's go."

The library turned out to be small, but well stocked as far as medical literature was concerned. Hermione was relieved. At least she wouldn't have to spend any money on books. They spent a little time browsing and then made their way to the small lecture theatre, where the Magical Maladies class would be held. The door was open, so they went inside and sat down, soon joined by Cho and Richard, then Virginie, and, lastly, Patricia.

Meanwhile, Professor Severus Snape had spent the remainder of the morning in the small office that had been assigned to him somewhere along St Mungo's many corridors. He had found a basic desk in there, some parchment, a Quick-Quotes Quill, and a few textbooks covering the core curriculum. He had gone over the next weeks' potions, making a list of all the ingredients the students would need to use. Once he got the hang of it, he had found the Quick-Quotes Quill quite easy to use. The task of checking the stock cupboard still remained to be done. It was something he would need assistance with, but he decided it could wait until the next day.

Over lunch, he headed to the staff room in search for a cup of coffee. Unfortunately, as he entered, he found that he would not be alone. There was already someone in there, a middle-aged, blond wizard dressed in expensive robes, lounging in one of the comfortable looking armchairs, resting his feet on the table as if he owned the place. He looked up from his reading and greeted Severus with a beaming smile that somehow felt fake.

"Ah, our new colleague, the famous Severus Snape," he said, putting extra emphasis on the word 'famous' in a way that rendered his phrase all but well-meaning. "So... What do you think of our new intake of students?"

"I find it too early to pass judgement," Severus replied coolly. He noticed an oversized ruby ring on his colleague's left hand. He was a Gryffindor, for sure, so his dislike grew. As he eyed the coffee pot on the table he realised that under no circumstances would he allow the other wizard to witness his clumsy attempt at pouring himself a cup. Unfortunately, as he did not have the grace to offer him any, that meant he would have to forego his hot drink. Without anything else to do, he started to busy himself by looking at the stack of magazines on the table.

"Well," the blond wizard said, "I do find first impressions account for a lot. Four girls - that makes for a promising year. Last year there were only two, and one of them dropped out – Wasn't a good year, I tell you. Personally, I'm not so keen on Asians, but I do like the little French one. Virginie... What a ridiculous name to give one's daughter, don't you think? I mean, it's not going to last long, is it? Ha ha."

Severus didn't answer, pretending to be busy with his reading. All the magazines were issues of 'The Healer', a publication that seemed to put more emphasis on gossip than on academic content. To his annoyance, his colleague's false smile greeted him even from one of the covers, with a caption reading 'Fantasticus Romberg shares the secret of his success'. Disgusted, he pushed the copy away.

"Take my advice, Severus, they are all ever so desperate to do well. Even someone like you might get a look in, ha ha."

"I haven't got the slightest interest in any of the students beyond their academic performance," he replied with an icy look.

He'd had enough of this man's company. He turned and headed for the door, making a valiant effort not to lean too much on his cane. But even so, he was painfully aware that his dragging, laboured steps would not go unnoticed. As he finally closed the door behind him, he swore never to set foot in the staff room again.

A/N: Reviews are my only reward. Please give generously.