DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, form, or shape. It belongs to the one and only JK Rowling.
Harry looked at the cover page of The Daily Prophet and snorted in disgust. He tossed it onto the lunch table, covering the plate of toast.
Hermione and Ron looked at him quizzically. Harry simply waved his hand nonchalantly. Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Ron shrugged and Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to stabbing her hot cake with her golden fork, assuming that it was just another truth-guessing (false) article from the Ministry.
Things in 7th year were better ever since The Golden Trio took down Voldemort over the summer. No one knows how they did it, since they refused to disclose any information whatsoever.
The bell rang in the outer hallway. The teachers got up and swept away. The students took the cue, and packed away their textbooks, ink bottles, and left over pieces of parchment from the morning's finishing-up-schoolwork-before-the-bell-rang into their bags. Harry and Hermione finished quickly and glided out of the Great Hall. Ron ran after them. He was the last 7th year to finish as he was, well, a procrastinator.
"Wait up!" Ron yelled after Hermione and Harry, causing people to give him peculiar looks. Hermione and Harry halted and waited for Ron, impatience scrawled across their faces. Ever since, a new DADA professor came, everyone has become quite enthusiastic to get to their first period.
"Must you go so fast?" Ron huffed as he finally caught up to Hermione and Ron.
"Well, you wouldn't be so slow if you actually finished your schoolwork at night!" Hermione reprimand him as she switched her schoolbag to the other shoulder.
As the Gryffindor trio walked steadily towards the DADA classroom, gathering admiring looks from younger students. Ron was basking in the glory; Harry was indifferent to it having seen the looks since the minute he walked inside Hogwarts doors; and Hermione had a slight smile on her face, quite neutral about how famous she became overnight.
They entered the DADA classroom. Hermione grabbed the trio seats at the front.
"Good morning class," A petite, blonde-haired, in her twenties professor came into the room, her grey eyes sparkling.
"Good morning Professor Trinity!" See, they were happy about addressing the teacher, ever see this happen beforehand with all their other DADA professors?
"All right, today we will be starting wandless magic since you guys already know non-verbal magic." Professor Trinity placed her bag on the desk, and withdrew a heavy textbook that looked about 40 times heavier than the average weight of all the books in Hermione's schoolbag. She flipped to a certain page. She 'hmm-ed', and creased down the corner of a page.
Without looking up, "Please get with partners and head outside," the Professor said.
The class groaned and reluctantly got into the partners that Professor Trinity chose out at the beginning of the new school year when she felt that it was important for people to work with their enemies.
"Let's get going," Draco said gruffly as he waited in front of Hermione's desk.
Hermione stared him down until he backed away from her desk. She stood up, and neatly shoved her books into her schoolbag. The two enemies—no longer arch enemies—exited the castle side-by-side with inches of space between them.
Professor Trinity stood in front of the clearing reserved for DADA practicing.
"Okay, we will begin with a simple spell task," Trinity said crisply, clasping her hands together. "You all do know Accio, right?"
The class nodded.
"We will begin with your partner and you standing about 25 yards away from each other and this," Trinity held up a big round red plastic balloon in her hands, "will be in the center. Her eyes sparkled mischievously.
Hermione and Draco looked at each apprehensively. "This can't be good," Draco murmured lowly.
Hermione cut her eyes at him and raised an eyebrow. "I wonder why, hmmm?" She whispered back lightly.
Draco rolled his eyes. Surprisingly, they've managed to keep a mild repertoire when it comes to insults thrown back and forth. The only conversation they've exchanged is light banter, and the closest they've gotten to insults were just comments drenched with sarcasm.
"Okay, people, lets go! Chop, chop, move it!" Their darling, adorable teacher turned lethal in front of their eyes. It was like watching a veela get pissed off. Partners turned to each other and gulped, quickly scrambling into their positions.
Professor Trinity beamed, "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" The students didn't respond, just quivered fearfully, watching their beloved professor. "You will also have this." She proceeded to rummage in her bookbag and pull out the most deadly sharp knife that the 7th years ever seen. They nervously began to back away from Trinity.
"Oh, ssssh, relax! I swear you would've thought I was Voldemort or something by the way you are eyeing those things. They won't pierce a millimeter of your skin, I promise, I won't be sacked if they touch you. They've been charmed not to hurt or make you bleed," Professor Trinity reassured them. The students visibly relaxed.
"What was I saying before I had to calm down you cowards!" Trinity laughed as she shot a meaningful look at all the students. She ignored a very specific fivesome. "Oh, right. One dagger will be in your partner's hand, this wonderful plastic balloon will be in the middle between you two, and you will attempt—maybe, perhaps, succeed—in using Accio to get the dagger out of your partner's hand, pop the balloon, and catch it in your hand."
Neville hesitantly raised his hand.
"Yes Neville?"
"Um, what exactly is the point of doing this? Couldn't we just Accio the balloon?" Neville stuttered out.
Trinity looked as if she was deep in thought about this, her answer surprised them: "That would be no fun! Besides, Dumbledore told me to do this!" She shrugged her slim shoulders, and grinned, Dumbledore's twinkle in her eye. "Okay, break!" She clapped her hands and retreated to watch the 7th years make fools of themselves.
"Why don't you go first?" Hermione suggested, taking the dagger out of Draco's hand. He stiffened when her tampered fingers wrapped around his clenched fist to remove the dagger. "All right," He agreed, relaxed now. He walked away from Hermione until he reached the maximum limit.
Hermione raised her left hand, her slender fingers dangling the dagger. "Ready?" She called out. Draco nodded. She threw the dagger into the air. Draco narrowed his eyes. In a snap, the dagger flew towards him, speeding through the balloon, popping it. It happened so fast, that people surrounding them literally gasped when their brains caught up with the action. Draco, 25 meters away, lazily held the dagger horizontally in his left hand. He raised an eyebrow at the shocked students. They blushed and turned around.
Hermione drew out her wand: "Reparo," and waved her wand over the sad, popped balloon. It mended itself. Around her, students looked as if they wanted to smack themselves on the forehead. Of course they forgot about this wonderfully simple repairing spell!
"Ready?" Draco asked, looking bored-beyond-relief.
"Yeah."
Just like before, the dagger shot through the balloon like a bullet and landed smoothly in Hermione's hand. The strength of the magic used was almost as if the two were using wands, and spoke the spell out loud. Needless to say Professor Trinity was overjoyed that two 7th years finally managed to do this without a single hitch.
Ron—who most people assumed would having a miserable time with it. Harry had succeeded just as smoothly as Draco and Hermione after a slightly shaky beginning, but his partner—Neville—managed to somehow have the balloon shredded beyond Reparo.
"Wonderful job Potter, Malfoy, Zambini, Weasley, and Granger!" Her face was so bright that Hermione felt as if she should've bought her sunglasses. "That was excellent! Have you practiced this before?" She looked inquisitively at the fivesome.
"Yes," Harry spoke up, his voice filled with authority.
Trinity grinned at him, and turned around to speak to her lesser students. "All right, class," She clapped her hands for attention. "I want everyone to try harder next class. I'll see you all tomorrow."
The 7th years heard the chiming of the bells and headed towards Hogwarts.
After lunch it was free for all period, a very rare occasion for the 7th years that were currently in the midst of exams. Harry and Ron went to go play Quidditch, since they hadn't had a practice game in ages. Hermione decided to head to the library to just read for fun as a reward for her weeks of hard studying. Harry and Ron finally got through to her that it was okay to take a break from working hard after seven years of persuasion.
Just as she was sitting down, a shouting match distracted her. Irritated, Hermione snuck around the bookcases, maneuvering herself so she was out of eyeshot of the arguers but she could see the action. She peeked from behind the bookcase, a curtain of hair shielding her.
"How could you defend the stupid mudblood? She's a fool, a coward, a whore, and she's so ugly!" A black-haired girl dressed in the customary black Hogwarts robe was facing her debate opponent, her back towards Hermione, blocking Hermione's view of her partner-in-crime.
Oh, wait. She recognized the nasal voice that sounded as if it was sobbing. Pansy Parkinson, she snarled in her head. There was no doubt that the "stupid mudblood" was her.
The next words spoken nearly made Hermione tumble out of her hiding place.
"Shut up Parkinson. Granger is not stupid, and she is like hell a whore. Where did you get that? The Daily Prophet?"
The quiet voice was also familiar. But . . . this time the mocking tone of it was directed to defend her, not insult her. Hermione's jaw drop. The two of them got along better now, more like frenemies but he actually passed up the chance to make fun of her? And he actually defended her against a fellow Slytherin? Hermione's head whirled as she jerked back so her head was behind the bookcase as well.
"Drakie poo, why the hell are you saying that? Don't you love me?" Pansy whined.
"Don't call me Drakie poo," Draco Malfoy growled.
Hermione bit back a smile. Drakie poo? Of course Parkinson couldn't be any more creative.
"B-b-but Draco!" Pansy wailed, "I thought you hated the mudblood, why are you calling her by her first name? She's so, so stupid, ugly, slutty!" Pansy burst out.
"You said that the first time round," Draco replied coolly.
Hermione couldn't see Draco's face but she could imagine how irritated he looked. She rolled her eyes at Parkinson's brilliant word choices.
"Now if you excuse me I have to go to class."
Hermione gulped. She was going to get caught. She heard the sound of a chair screeching as it was pushed back. She scrambled up and ran out of the library as fast as she could without getting in trouble. She slid down the wall and suddenly a thought occurred to her. Why were running away from Draco Malfoy? She berated herself, smacking herself on the forehead. That's a good question, she thought to herself wryly, before something Draco said caught up with her. She hurriedly looked at her watch, Oh no, I'm going to be late for potions! Shoot! She raced down the hallway, not bothering to look behind her where an amused and irritated white-blonde looked after her.
"Ron, are you okay?" Hermione looked worriedly at Ron Weasley, who was notorious for shoving food down his mouth so fast that he usually chokes, was primly cutting this bacon and neatly placing it in his mouth. Ron nodded.
Harry poked Hermione and jerked his head towards Professor Snape and McGonall, both of which were glaring at Ron like he was an all-around hated red stoplight.
Hermione covered her mouth with her hand as she started snickering helplessly. Harry succumbed with her. Ron glared at the two, which just set them off again.
"Oi, the mail's here!" Ginny called out, successfully distracting the Gryffindor table.
Hermione ignored the flurry of activity above and around her. Her parents usually mailed her once a week and she had received their letter yesterday. Imagine her surprise when a barn owl swooped down and landed on her shoulder. She was so startled that she knocked a goblet of pumpkin juice all over the white tablecloth.
"I'm so sorry!" She apologized to a nearby startled Seamus and Dean.
"It's all right Hermione, you don't have to apologize," Seamus tried to comfort her.
Hermione ignored them and took out her wand. "Scourgify."
The owl pecked her shoulder-hard. "Ouch!" Hermione cried out in surprise, holding her shoulder. Hermione glared at the owl, and forcefully removed the envelope from the owl's beak. The owl looked at if it was staring condescendingly at Hermione before it took off.
"Are you okay Hermione?" Harry asked.
Hermione briskly nodded and she ripped open the envelope, irritated. She yanked the parchment out and began reading it, her eyes narrowed. The further down she got, the wider her eyes became.
Hermione Granger,
Did you enjoy the pecking my owl just gave you? No? Don't worry, he does that everybody—including Parkinson. Speaking of Parkinson and you—you're a horrible spy. Did you really think that I would missed the curtain of brown bushy hair that peeked from behind the bookcase? Parkinson may be denser than stone, but I'm sure as hell not. You do know I'm second to you in exams. I'm quite aware that you eavesdropped on the interesting conversation that Parkinson and I had.
I do think you are smart (as much as it kills me to admit it.) And you are also the farthest thing from foolish or cowardly. You proved that when you saved my family from Voldemort. I'm guessing you have yet to read Rita Skeeter's new article in The Daily Prophet yesterday because you didn't look like you wanted to murder her yesterday.
Yes, I defended you. It's the first and last time that will happen. Don't count on it happening again. Kill the letter when you're done reading it.
Draco Malfoy
Hermione looked shell shocked. She lifted her head from the letter and saw . . . who else? Draco Malfoy staring at her intently.
Hermione smiled and discreetly winked at him and mouthed 'Thank You.' Draco bit back a grin, and nodded at her.
She went back to talking to Harry about exams.
Blaise, who was sitting next to Draco shook his head in shock, "That was not the reaction I thought your letter would invoke in her," he muttered beneath his breath.
"There's a first time for everything," Draco murmured as he picked up his champagne flute filled with pumpkin juice.
THE END
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