Sorry for the super-long wait! I've been really busy doing other things and such... Hopefully you haven't completely given up on reading this story... Well I suppose if you're reading this than that means you haven't. Haha.
Ok, well, this chapter is again just getting into the swing of things. Hope you like it. :)
DISCLAIMER: I can only wish that I owned Harry Potter and his crew... Unfortunately, the credit goes to the lovely J.
-Chapter 2-
Summer woke up the next morning feeling anything but refreshed. She had tossed and turned for majority of the night, plagued by nightmares and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong. By the time her exhausted mind had actually relaxed, it was almost dawn.
She was shaken awake by an anxious-looking Hermione, who explained that if they didn't hurry they would have to skip breakfast in order to get to class on time. Not wanting to endure her first day with a loudly-complaining stomach, Summer dressed quickly in her school robes, which had been modified overnight to show her Gryffindor colours.
The two girls made their way hurriedly down to the Great Hall, where they found Harry and Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table, glaring daggers at the two identical-looking sheets of parchment in front of them.
"What's up?" Summer asked, sitting down beside Harry and reaching for a piece of toast.
Harry grunted moodily, thrusting the timetable in front of her and stabbing his fork viciously into his eggs. Summer raised her eyebrows in confusion and tried to catch Hermione's eye, but her friend was too immersed in her own more complicated-looking timetable.
Dropping her eyes to the parchment, Summer read that he had double Potions, History of Magic, double Divination and Defense Against the Dark Arts for the day. She frowned, unsure of why this would invoke such a bad mood in him.
Glancing over at her, Harry noticed her questioning expression and sighed. "I hate Potions, History of Magic is the most boring subject that ever existed, double Divination means double Trelawney, and then, to top it all off, I have to deal with Snape," he said, counting off each point on his left hand. "I hate Mondays." He shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth and chewed grumpily.
"I feel you mate," Ron said bracingly, patting Harry slightly on the shoulder and glaring at his own timetable.
"Oh, cheer up, both of you. It's not that big of a deal," Hermione said briskly, folding up her own timetable neatly and placing it beside her plate. "It will be interesting to see Professor Slughorn and his teaching methods, and we're bound to learn something worthwhile in the other subjects! Well, maybe you won't in Divination," she added as an afterthought, her nose wrinkling.
Ron glared at her. "Hermione, since when do we ever learn something interesting in History of Magic?"
"We've learnt plenty of interesting things in History of Magic!" Hermione said defensively. "Like giant wars, goblin treaties… and all that history on Hogwarts! I'm sure Professor Binns has prepared something extra exciting as it's our sixth year and all…"
Summer, who had just been studying her own timetable, glanced up and said, "Well, you'll have to tell me all about the exciting stuff you learn… I have Astronomy when you all have History of Magic." She felt a sense of disappointment in knowing that she'd be alone in the class when all her friends were together in another.
Ron's eyes widened and he snatched Summer's timetable from her hands. "No way!" he exclaimed after scanning the contents of her Monday column. "You aren't down for History of Magic? You won't be bored into a coma three times a week? How is that fair?!" He finished on a whiny note that sounded not unlike that a tantrum-throwing three year old would use.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I guess the subject was full or something." Summer shrugged. "But at least you guys will be with each other. I won't know anyone in that Astronomy class…"
"You shouldn't worry so much," Harry suddenly spoke. "You'll make friends in no time. How could you not?"
Summer felt warmed by his words and took a bite of her toast, feeling slightly happier.
Draco sauntered out of the Great Hall, followed closely by Pansy, Theodore and Blaise. Pansy hung off his left arm like an annoying parasite, but he couldn't be bothered dealing with the drama if he told her to get lost. Instead, he focused on the conversation Blaise was having with Theodore to his right.
"All I'm saying is you need to watch who you talk to," Blaise was saying, his dark face twisted into an expression of distaste. "If people see you talking to scum like that Mudblood Evans…"
Theo made a peculiar half-choking, half-hissing sound. "Please don't use that term around me, Blaise."
Blaise cocked an eyebrow at Theo, one side of his lip jerking upwards in a smirk. "Why's that Theo? Are you a Mudblood lover now? You might want to keep a safe distance away from those dirty, good-for-nothing cretins. After all, I hear Mudbloods have a high risk of infection, due to their dirty, muddy blood."
"Real mature, Blaise," Theo muttered, rolling his eyes.
Draco smirked as Blaise continued with his taunting banter as the group of Slytherins began to descend the stairs leading to the dungeons. Despite Theo being right about Blaise's immaturity, Draco found the whole situation quite entertaining.
One point, however, troubled him in a deeper part of his mind. Theo, socializing with Mudbloods? He made a face. It just wasn't right.
"Something wrong, Drakey?" Pansy cooed, her hand coming up to touch the frown lines furrowed between Draco's eyebrows.
Draco flinched away from her hand automatically, receiving a resentful pout from her. He sighed and jerked his shoulders upwards in a sharp shrug, trying to subtly disengage his arm from Pansy's grip, but she remained clinging to his side and he gave up with an irritable roll of his eyes.
They finally reached the door to Snape's dungeon classroom and Draco managed to shake off Pansy as he leaned against the cold stone wall. He surveyed the gathering crowd of students around them, his eyes falling on the three unmistakable heads of the Golden Trio.
The new girl – something Maple – was chatting animatedly with Potter, a wide smile dominating her face. Draco watched as Potter's eyes traveled down to her full, shell-pink lips and his eyes seemed to glaze over slightly. Obviously having asked a question, Maple raised her eyebrows at Potter's unresponsive reaction. He gave a small start, a dull flush creeping into his cheeks as he replied to whatever query had been posed.
Draco snorted. Leave it to Pot-head to fall for a girl after less than twenty-four hours of knowing her.
Pansy, hearing Draco's expression of amusement, followed his gaze and saw Maple. Frowning, she moved closer to Draco and said sulkily, "Well, you seemed to have noticed the new girl."
Draco blinked and his grey eyes flicked toward his pouting, sometimes-girlfriend. He shrugged in response to her accusatory tone.
"Funny, I never took you to be the type to fancy a Mudblood," Pansy added, drawing out the last word for dramatic effect, her eyes boring into Draco, waiting for his reaction.
The corners of his lips dragged down slightly in a scowl and he turned to listen to Theo and Blaise's conversation. Pansy smiled smugly.
A Mudblood. Of course. Potter attracted those types… But the problem was, he had been attracted to a Mudblood. The thought repulsed him. Really, people with blood as pure as his should have a safeguard against these kinds of things.
No, it wasn't purebloods with the problem; it was them. The Mudbloods. They should be branded or something…
Draco smirked to himself as he entertained this thought, imagining the Granger Mudblood with a huge, disfiguring brand mark on her cheek. A distant part of him vaguely thought this sick, but he dismissed it immediately. After all, Mudbloods were vermin. Who cared how they were treated?
But would he want the Maple girl branded?
His grey eyes flickered up to land on the object of his thoughts and his stomach twisted at the thought of anything disfiguring her face. Then reason caught up with him and he blanched. Had he just felt anything but disgust toward a Mudblood?
He felt sickened with himself for the second time that day.
Luckily, the new Potions master, Professor Slughorn, swung open the door to the Potions classroom and began ushering in the students, therefore interrupting Draco from his confused thoughts. Draco followed Blaise into the classroom.
When all the students had gathered at the tables around the room, Slughorn began to speak: "Welcome to your first Potions class with me!" He beamed around at the students, his thumbs tucked into the pockets of the expensive-looking vest he wore. "Now, I'm sure Professor Snape has been a more than satisfactory teacher for you all –"
Draco heard the redheaded git standing two tables away snort. He rolled his eyes. The disgrace was sounding more and more like a pig every day; soon the swine curse he had planned would be unneccessary.
"– however, I'm sure you'll find a quite substantial difference between our teaching methods. I enjoy a more hands-on experience in the Potions room, and I also believe in rewarding students for their good work!"
Draco felt his attention slipping; this man was more dull than Granger. He let his thoughts wander as Slughorn moved on to explaining the different potions he had set up around the classroom.
His attention was grabbed, however, when the last potion was revealed…
"It's liquid luck!" Granger was saying, her eyes bright and her mouth spewing out words a million miles an hour; overall an appearance not unlike that of a squirrel on speed. "It makes you lucky!"
He wasn't the only one in the classroom that seemed to suddenly snap to attention. A lucky potion? That could definitely come in handy with the … tasks he was expected to perform this year.
Draco felt the familiar weight of fear press down on him, seeming to constrict his breathing and make his heart work in overtime, as he remembered his mission. How was he supposed to complete it in such a small time frame? Maybe he wasn't expected to complete it?
He mentally shook himself before he was lost in the dark abyss of such thoughts, forcing himself to focus as Slughorn revealed that the student who managed to make the best Draught of Living Death would win a tiny vial of the liquid luck.
He needed that potion.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Slughorn asked the classroom at large, his plump face stretched into a grin. "Off you go!"
Draco immediately sprang into action, pulling out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making and almost tearing the pages as he desperately tried to locate the method for making this potion. One thought replayed in his head like an internal mantra: I need this, I need this, I need this.
Around twenty minutes later, and Draco's potion was purple and emitting blue mist. He was hacking at a Sopophorous Bean, desperate to get it open before his potion was irreversibly damaged.
He cast a quick glance around the classroom to see the point to which everyone else had gotten to. He felt slightly reassured when he saw Granger's potion was also stubbornly purple, however no blue mist was apparent.
His gaze flicked onto the next potion, which was dark blue and bubbling over. Looking up for the owner of the potion, he saw Summer moving from foot to foot, frantically adding stalks of Asphodel, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a slight 'O'.
Draco laughed quietly under his breath; the sound cause Summer to look up and meet his eyes. He smirked and her hazel eyes narrowed into a glare, her lips tugging down to complete the look.
Despite the fact that he couldn't care less – at all – if she glared at him or showed any sign of dislike toward him, Draco couldn't help but feel a little taken aback. He hadn't actually done anything personal to her… yet.
Realization dawned on him: Potter. He must have filled her in on their past… that little prat. Leave it up to him to taint the new girl's image of him before he'd even spoken one word to her himself.
But why did he even care? The girl was a Mudblood, for Merlin's sakes.
It's more fun to be mean to someone who doesn't expect it, offered a small voice in the back of Draco's head. That was it. He'd rather start with a clean slate so he could relish in the look of hurt and surprise on her face when he shot her down from her not-so-lofty-Mudblood-from-another-country perch.
Stupid Scarhead. He was always ruining his fun.
Draco turned back to his potion in a foul mood. His scowl deepened when he saw his concoction had managed to turn a dull grey-green during the time he'd been thinking.
He heard the sound of quiet laughter from somewhere to his right. His shoulders stiffened; only one person could claim ownership for a dainty laugh such as that. He refused to give Summer the pleasure by looking over and instead set to work salvaging his mess of a potion.
By the end of the lesson, Draco's potion was a dark grey colour with the consistency similar to that of scrambled eggs.
"Time's up!" Slughorn called and the class stepped back from their cauldrons with a collective sigh.
Draco watched Slughorn pass over his potion with little more than a slight frown. The professor continued around the room until he reached Potter's table. He loudly praised and congratulated the prat before handing over the vial of luck.
Glowering, Draco swore under his breath and shoved his fists into the pockets of his robes, his fingers wrapping around his wand. He longed to make something explode, or curse someone… preferably that Maple girl.
After all, it was her fault he got so distracted in the middle of the class which then led to the destruction of his chances for the Felix Felicis. It was all her stupid fault, what with her stupid glaring with her stupid eyes and her stupid way of making him care about her stupid glaring.
When the class was dismissed, Draco was the first out of the door, pushing his peers roughly out of the way in his effort to leave the presence of that good-for-nothing Mudblood.
Summer was glad the day was nearly over. She never knew school could be so tiring or stressful. In just one day she had succeeded in causing her first potion of the year to overflow with blue bubbles, causing everything in its path to inexplicably smell like cotton candy; had received a stack of Ancient Runes homework; and had been paired up with a particularly nasty Slytherin girl named Pansy Parkinson for her Astronomy assignment.
"Professor Sinistra partnered you with that troll for your assignment?" Ron said incredulously after Summer had filled her friends in. They were heading along the third floor corridor to the last class of the day: Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Summer nodded, grimacing. "She spent the entire lesson glaring at me and whispering threats under her breath every time Professor Sinistra's back was turned."
"I'm surprised Sinistra put you with Parkinson," Harry said thoughtfully. "Usually she has more sense than to partner Slytherins with Gryffindors… or partner them with anyone but other Slytherins, for that matter…"
Summer gulped. "Why's that? You don't think she'd actually… do anything, do you?" She bit her lip. "I mean, she did threaten to turn me into toad spawn several times today…"
Hermione gave a derisive snort. "I wouldn't worry too much. Pansy wouldn't know how to Transfigure you into toad spawn if she was hit in the back of the head by the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4," she scoffed.
Somehow, this didn't provide too much comfort to Summer.
Harry sensed her unease and reassuringly placed an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Summer. We won't let Parkinson anywhere near you." He smiled, his green eyes earnest.
"Yeah, if she tries anything, we'll curse her head into a pumpkin," Ron piped up resolutely. "Actually, it would probably improve her looks…" he added as an afterthought.
Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh please Ronald, knowing your luck, you'd turn yourself into a pumpkin."
Summer hid a smile at Ron and Hermione as they walked slightly ahead of her and Harry, bickering about Ron's wandmanship. She suddenly became very aware of Harry's arm resting across her shoulders; the heat from his arm seemed to be seeping through the cloth of her robes and making her skin tingle feverishly.
She inconspicuously glanced at him from beneath her eyelashes and saw him looking at her with a strange expression on his face. She felt her cheeks heat up and she looked away, casting about for a conversation starter.
"S-So… Are Ron and Hermione always like that?" she said, her voice slightly shakier than she meant it to be.
Harry seemed to snap out of his strange trance. "Huh – Wha-? Oh, yeah." He smiled, watching the backs of his two friends as they continued to snap at each other. "One time, in our third year, they –"
Harry's story was cut off, however, when the two of them were roughly separated by another body. Summer stumbled to the side and looked up to see the back of Malfoy's platinum head, Crabbe and Goyle walking along beside him.
"Watch where you're going, Malfoy," Harry snapped.
His voice attracted the attention of Ron and Hermione, who turned around and, upon seeing the cause of the disturbance, immediately returned to Summer and Harry's side.
Malfoy spun on his heel so that he was now walking backwards down the corridor. "Sorry to break up your love fest with the newest Mudblood addition to the Golden Trio, Potter. I have to congratulate you though; you continue to astound me with you apparently non-existent standard for friends."
Harry and Ron immediately lunged forward, but automatically Hermione caught them by the backs of their robes, almost as though it was a reflex. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed loudly and Malfoy smirked smugly as he realised he'd successfully riled the boys up.
Despite Hermione's attempts to hold Harry and Ron back, she was only one girl and, before Summer could help, the boys were striding forward toward the three Slytherins. Hands instantly disappeared into pockets, no doubt in search for their wands.
Summer quickly threw herself in front of Harry and Ron, placing a restraining hand on both of their chests. Harry's glare flickered as he glanced down at Summer's disapproving face. Ron seemed past the point of caring as he yelled over Summer's shoulder at Malfoy.
"I'm warning you Malfoy, you slimy git; if you say one more thing about anything and I'll curse you into next week!" he growled, his ears a flaming red colour.
Summer glanced over her shoulder to see the smirk slowly slide off Malfoy's face, only to be replaced by a deadly focus; his steel grey eyes flashed dangerously as he withdrew his wand from inside his robes. Crabbe and Goyle shifted into a ready stance.
"Bring it, Weasel King," was all he said.
"Harry!" Summer exclaimed as Ron pushed her aside and made for Malfoy, whipping his wand out of his pocket as he went.
Harry seemed to come to his senses and grabbed the protesting Ron by the elbows, struggling to drag him back from the Slytherins. Summer and Hermione helped by pushing at their enraged friend's chest.
When they were a safe distance away, Summer turned to make sure Malfoy didn't try to curse their backs. A shadow of disappointment flickered across Malfoy's features, only to be replaced by arrogance once more as he pocketed his wand.
"Didn't think so, Weasel," he said with a smirk, before turning and walking off with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.
Harry and Hermione released their grip on Ron, who let out a frustrated cry. Red sparks shot from the tip of his wand as he glowered at the corner around which the three had disappeared.
"You really shouldn't let him get to you so much…" Hermione said sadly.
Ron grunted and stormed off after the Slytherins, heading for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Summer and the others followed him quietly.
Summer was wondering why the boys had gotten so fired up when Malfoy was so obviously baiting them. She had a feeling it had something to do with the term 'mud blood' that he had used. She'd never heard it before but it must have an incredibly offensive meaning for Harry and Ron to immediately lunge for Malfoy.
The group entered the D.A.D.A. classroom and was met with the casual chatter of students, which generally meant the Professor hadn't arrived of yet. Sure enough, one look around the room told Summer that the greasy-haired Professor Snape had not yet arrived, which she was thankful for. She wanted to ask about the 'mud blood' insult.
Hermione and Ron sat together at an empty desk in the middle of the classroom, leaving Harry and Summer to fill the desk at the very back; which happened to be located directly next to Malfoy and a dark-haired boy whose name Summer learned to be Theodore Nott.
As she took her seat, Summer felt the weight of a certain pair of grey eyes burning into her. She refused to meet his gaze and instead turned to Harry, who was glaring at the desk as though the weathered wood had delivered him a personal insult.
Summer hesitated. "Harry?" she asked tentatively.
"Hm?"
"I was just wondering… and don't bother answering this if it's stupid or insensitive or anything because it doesn't really matter it's just that I'm curious as to why it would cause such a stir when it doesn't really seem to mean all that much… kind of like bighead or loser-face… I mean it only seemed like two words put together in an insulting way and if that's all it was and you were just reacting because you hate him than fair enough but –" She became aware of Harry's bemused – and slightly amused – expression and cut to the chase: "What does Mudblood mean?" she whispered so that no one around them would hear the term.
Harry's expression instantly switched from amusement to surprise. "You don't know what it means?" he said incredulously.
"I've never heard it before," Summer shrugged.
"Wow, Alinga must have been a really decent place… Well, I guess you may as well learn; it's like the Slytherin catchphrase so I suppose you'll look pretty odd if you don't react accordingly to it…" Harry paused for a moment before continuing, "It's basically a really offensive way of referring to Muggleborns, and usually it's only the purebloodprats that use it. It basically means 'dirty blood' and it really just refers to their beliefs that Muggleborns are under them and undeserving of magic. It's a really horrible name…"
"I can't believe someone could be so cruel to treat another human being as though they were beneath them… like an animal." Summer shook her head in disbelief. Inside, she was hurt.
"That's just the way the Slytherins are," Harry sighed, returning to his staring match with the desk.
Summer sat back in her chair, her mind still mulling over how damaged a person's beliefs would have to be for them to think that terminology was true. Her gaze involuntarily flicked over to meet Malfoy's, which was still fixed on her face.
A rush of anger seemed to fill her from head to toe and she resisted the urge to throw her book in his pathetic face. She compromised by shooting him the most venomous look she could muster, focusing on funneling all her disgust and rage into that one look. Malfoy's emotionless expression flickered for a moment before his grey eyes turned icy and he looked away.
Yeah, take that Mr. I'm-a-big-Slytherin-bully, Summer inwardly taunted, acknowledging how immature she was but not really caring.
A groan to her right made her look to Harry. He was glaring at the doorway of the classroom. Following his gaze, Summer saw Snape swooping into the classroom with his long black robes fluttering after him, creating an image not unlike that of an overgrown bat.
The silence that fell at the sight of Snape was immediate and complete. Everyone seemed to be staring at him as though he was a reformed axe murderer that could fall back into his old ways at any given moment. Everyone except for Malfoy, that is. The blonde pureblood seemed to have become intensely interested in his own pale hands.
Once he had reached the front of the classroom, Snape turned to face the students. "I have the unfortunate task of attempting to teach you all how to defend yourself against the Dark Arts. As I have taught you in the past, I realise how especially incompetent some of you are with magic…" His eyes rested on Neville, whose plump cheeks flushed a deep red. "…Because of this, I want this to be as painless, for me, as possible. Therefore, no one is to speak unless spoken to in this classroom; no one is to perform magic unless told otherwise; no one is to do anything unless instructed to. Understood?"
There was a murmur of assent across the classroom. Snape's mean black eyes surveyed each and every one of their faces. He met Summer's scared gaze and the corner of his lip twitched in a smirk.
Uh oh. She gulped.
"Ah, so here we have our newest addition to the school…"
Summer felt Harry stiffen beside her and she knew she was in for some form of hell.
"Perhaps we should get to know her a little better?"
Surely he wouldn't… I've only just arrived; how can he possibly have something against me? No, he wouldn't…
Snape's quietly dangerous tone changed to snappy instantaneously, "Get up here, Miss. Maple."
…Apparently he would.
Summer took a deep breath and rose to her feet. She slowly made her way to the front of the classroom, her eyes fixed on her feet as she avoided meeting anyone's gaze.
"Today we'll be putting nonverbal spells into practice," Snape said when Summer was standing beside him. "What are the advantages of a nonverbal spell, Miss. Maple?"
"Um…" Summer stalled. When Snape had first mentioned nonverbal spells, she had been inwardly relieved; she'd briefly learnt how to put them into practice during her fifth year at Alinga.
"They… er… give you an advantage because your opponent doesn't know what you're thinking… so… they have less time to react to the particular type of magic?" Summer winced at her bad choice of wording.
Snape smirked. "How intellectually put, Miss. Maple."
Summer could feel an intense dislike for the man in front of her building up.
"Yes, nonverbal spells give the caster an advantage because their opponent doesn't know what magic they will be using. Now, Miss. Maple will help me demonstrate how these nonverbal spells are used." Snape turned to her. "This will give you a chance to show how advanced Alinga is to Hogwarts… or not." He smirked again.
Despite Summer having learnt nonverbal spells before, the intense fear of the man in front of her would surely have a negative affect on her casting. She worried her lower lip as Snape turned to face her.
"Now, I am going to silently cast a jinx at you and you will need to deflect that jinx using a nonverbal spell. Sounds simple? Good."
Summer didn't even have time to prepare herself before Snape's wand had whipped out in a short, complicated fashion. She felt her feet leave the floor and a second later splitting pain flashed across her back as she hit the floor. All the wind in her lungs rushed out and she was left lying on the ground, stunned.
Several of the Slytherins were cheering. Snape waited a moment before giving them a silencing look and walking over to where Summer was shakily climbing to her feet.
"Hmm… I guess Alinga isn't so advanced after all," Snape said quietly.
When did I ever say that it was?! Summer found herself thinking exasperatedly as she attempted to shake the dizziness from her head.
"Return to your seat, Miss. Maple," Snape said dismissively.
"Actually, sir," Summer began, her voice croaky from the lack of oxygen, "I'd rather try that again."
The class was dead silent.
Snape turned slowly to face her again, his eyes glinting maliciously. He waited for a moment, then, "Very well."
Summer nodded, holding her wand at the ready and taking a deep breath.
She saw Snape's hand twitch and before he could even fully complete the silent jinx, Summer had mentally yelled 'Protego!', her wand flicking out and deflecting his spell. The force of her response caused Snape to stumble backwards two steps.
It was the Gryffindors' time to cheer.
"Silence!" Snape hissed at them, before turning back to Summer. "Very well, Miss. Maple, you've proved that you can deflect the most basic of jinxes. Congratulations."
"Excuse me, Professor, but I never asked you to go easy on me," Summer said through gritted teeth, knowing the teacher was trying to degrade her work.
Snape's eyes glinted. "If you wish for a more advanced lesson, I'll be happy to oblige," he said quietly, his tone dripping with venom.
"Please do, sir," Summer replied, refusing to back down even though she knew she would most likely be knocked on her backside once more… or worse.
Out of the corner of her eye, Summer noticed Harry raise slightly out of his chair, his expression torn between fury and worry. If she had been paying more attention, she would have noticed his hand reaching into his pocket for his wand…
Snape's wand twisted and there was a flash of silver light and a faint roaring sound, as if Summer had held a shell to her ear. She could feel the jinx rushing toward her but before she had the chance to even try and defend herself, the sound of Harry's voice joined the roaring in her ears.
"Protego!"
The jinx was deflected to the side and shattered the glass in the windows along the left wall. At the same time, Snape was blown full-force into his own desk.
It seemed as though everyone in the room was holding their breath. Summer stared at Harry with wide eyes; by his defiant expression, she knew he realised the damage he'd done.
Snape slowly righted himself, his breathing heavy and a scowl on his face.
"Did I ever tell you that you could intervene, Potter?" he spat. "Or do you think its within your divine rights as the Chosen One to do whatever you want?"
"No, Professor," Harry replied woodenly.
"Well, your heroic actions have won you a two-hour detention in my office this Saturday night. The rest of you, divide into pairs and practice nonverbal spells… now."
Summer strode quickly back to the desk which Harry stood behind, his jaw clenched and his hands in fists by his sides.
"Why would you do that Harry?" Summer asked softly, not wanting to be caught talking by Snape. "You must have known it would only get you into trouble."
Harry simply shrugged and took a step away from her, raising his wand. "Should you jinx first, or should I?" he asked.
Summer sighed and joined him in practicing the nonverbal spells.
No one noticed Draco Malfoy slipping his wand – which he had been holding at the ready during the entire demonstration – back into the pocket of his robes.
OK! So what did you think of it? Please review so I know I'm not just putting this up here for no reason =S.. Thanks :)
