It was a warm, late-spring day; the fifth years' OWLS and the seventh years' NEWTS were finished, and I was relaxing out of sight of the imbeciles I had to deal with all year long.

I was sitting back, enjoying the calming breeze as it swept across the lake, when I heard the shout. It startled me, and for a second, I felt I was back in MY fifth year, Potter and his 'Marauders' getting ready to swoop in...

But then I remembered that it was Potter Jr.'s fifth year, not my own. And in fact, I saw him sitting under the very tree I had sat under post-OWLS.

"Hey Potty!" came a sneering drawl, that could only belong to a blond snobbish Malfoy. I frowned, not being a fan of ANY harsh nicknames.

"I don't need this right now, Malfoy..." I had to strain to hear.

"Why? To upset dat youw wittle dogfat'er got kiwwed?" Draco laughed, as did the other Slytherins behind him.

To his credit, Mr. Potter stood, and started to leave. But Mr. Malfoy wouldn't have any of it. A jelly-legs jinx sent Potter sprawling, muttering, "Bloody fucking Malfoy-"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Potty. Scourify!" My head started to spin. What the bloody hell was going on?

I couldn't help but feel that history was repeating itself. But it wasn't supposed to be like this! Potter was supposed to be the bully...

As soon as Potter spit the last of the hellish pink bubbles out of his mouth, Draco cast a *scamhóg comhbhrúiteoir hex, making Potter lay gasping for air on his stomach.

I noticed Weasley and Longbottom aways away, staring in shock at the scene. But then I noticed Granger stalking up to Mr. Malfoy, face red and hair flying.

"Leave him alone!" she demanded, helping Potter to stand.

"Or what? Why would you want to help Potty?" Malfoy sneered, as the other Slytherins backed off from the Muggleborn. She's as scary as Lily, I thought, smirking slightly. Then I remembered what I said to Lily, and prayed that Potter would not call Granger that horrible word...

Granger smiled sweetly, though it only served to make her look even more dangerous. "Well, he IS my best friend." She paused.

"...And as for the 'or what'..." WHAM!

I actually jumped, shocked as the teenager fired back her fist punching Draco in the face... Before smirking that is...

My Slytherins scampered away, but I remained, waiting with baited breath for what Potter would say.

Please don't say Mudblood please don't say Mudblood please don't say Mudblood!

"Nice shot, 'mione!" Potter high-fived the girl, as they walked away.

O_.~•*'*•~._.~•*'*•~._.~•*'*•~._O

A/N Hahaha! Just loved the Hermione punching Draco scene in the Prisoner of Azkaban, so had to make my own.

*scamhóg comhbhrúiteoir: Irish for lung compressor

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