A/N: Alright you guys! Another chapter. Not entirely sure how I feel about this one, but all that matters is how you feel about it! So, please, let me know... review! ;D
- Hermione -
Hermione stopped short at the professor's tone, before she glanced back at Draco. He had frozen in the doorway, his face paler than usual.
Clearly, something had happened between these two during the war. She'd heard about the Auror having been captured during the war, and she surmised that Draco must have had something to do with his 'interrogation'.
Usually, this fact alone would have been enough to raise Hermione's own ire against the former Death Eater, but for some reason, she felt the strange need to protect him.
"Professor Dawlish," she said softly, tone placating. "While I can understand the pain of torture during war times, I can assure you that whatever Draco did in order to take part in yours was entirely against his will."
The wizard turned his nearly white eyes to her, a slight scowl curling his lower lip.
"Miss Granger..." he drawled. "Why are you defending him?"
"Because the war is over, Professor Dawlish." she replied softly. The Auror watched her for several long moments, before a faint smile played about his lips.
"For you, perhaps." he said quietly, as students began to file into the class. Hermione glanced back at Draco, to find him looking at her with a stunned expression on his face. She smiled a little, before nodding her head at a table at the back of the room.
Draco swallowed visibly, walking with jerky movements to the table the witch had indicated. He sat down heavily, as Hermione took the seat beside him.
"I won't let him do this," she promised, voice low. Draco glanced at her.
"Why do you care?" he asked quietly. Hermione turned her head to look at him, a soft smile on her face.
"Someone has to."
With that, she turned her eyes back to front of the classroom, but she could still feel Draco's gaze on her as Dawlish began to speak.
"Good morning," he murmured. "As some of you may know, I am Auror John Dawlish. I will be instructing you in Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."
The students in the room murmured their greetings, many of them drawing their books and notebooks from their bags.
"As I am sure many of you are aware, Hogwarts is currently playing host to a Death Eater by the name of Draco Malfoy." Dawlish went on, his eyes sweeping over the class. Hermione stilled, as Dawlish began walking towards the back of the room. "Now, a Death Eater is marked by a very distinguishable tattoo on his or her left forearm. Mr. Malfoy... would you care to show us your mark?"
Everyone in the room turned to look at Draco, their faces carefully blank as Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Auror.
"That is quite unnecessary, Professor." she said, voice stiff.
"On the contrary, Miss Granger." Dawlish replied, smiling over at the girl. "I believe that it is quite necessary. I intend to teach everyone how to recognize a dark witch or wizard... and how to deal with one, should they ever be so unlucky."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Dawlish simply continued speaking.
"Although... it would appear that you, Miss Granger, already know how to recognize a dark wizard." he mused. "Tell me... did you enjoy being tortured at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange?"
Beside Hermione, Draco stilled.
"Don't speak to her of that." he snapped, his eyes locked on the unopened book in front of him. Dawlish chuckled softly.
"My, my... what strange bedfellows you keep, Miss Granger." he murmured. "Now, I only ask, mind you, because you seem so insistent on defending this man. One can only assume... now, then, where were we... ah, yes. Mr. Malfoy, I do believe that we are waiting for you to show us your mark."
"That is enough." Hermione growled, getting to her feet. The look she leveled Dawlish with would have made Voldemort himself take a backward step. "I am not about to sit here and allow you to bully someone who, by all rights, deserves a clean slate."
Dawlish surprised Hermione by laughing.
"Sit down, you silly girl." he said, waving a dismissive hand. "This is not something that concerns you, regardless of your seeming infatuation with this man."
Hermione's eyes narrowed into tiny slits, and before she knew what she was doing, she'd shoved her hand into the right pocket of her robes, and drawn her wand. It was level with the man's heart.
"No, you sit down." she growled, stalking around the edge of her desk. "You have no right to force him to do this, simply because you're still upset over the fact that you were dismissed from field work for being... oh, what was the word they used? Inadequate."
Several gasps rose around the room, but Hermione wasn't done.
"To be quite frank, Professor, I don't believe that you possess the qualifications necessary to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Don't you need... oh, at least passable skill in magic to perform even the most basic of defensive spells?"
By this point, Dawlish was red in the face, many of the students in the room snickering at Hermione's complete dismissal of this man's magical ability.
"Now," she continued, much to Dawlish's dismay. "If you are quite finished with your attempt to humiliate both Draco and myself, can we proceed with class? Or are you intent on forcing me to contact Minister Shacklebolt?"
At the stare of barely concealed rage, Hermione smiled, lowering her wand, and turning her back on the man.
"That's what I thought." she mused, before retaking her seat. When Dawlish simply continued to stare at her, she cocked her head to the side. "Well? Do you plan on 'teaching' us anything today, or are you simply going to stare at me?"
The man's face contorted in rage, before he swept from the classroom. Hermione sighed.
"Oh, no... I think I've hurt his feelings."
Several people chuckled, some Slytherins looking at the Gryffindor with new-found respect.
Beside her, Draco was looking at her with a strange expression on his face.
"You... you didn't have to do that." he said quietly. Hermione glanced over at him, a smile on her face.
"But I did." she replied softly. Draco peered at her, confusion written all over his face. He had just opened his mouth to speak, when Dawlish stormed back into the room. He was followed by a tired looking Professor McGonagall.
"...very rude and hurtful remarks!" Dawlish was growling. McGonagall looked at Hermione.
"Why is it, Miss Granger, that whenever something happens, it is always you three?" she asked, repeating an edited version of the question she'd posed to Hermione, Harry, and Ron during their sixth year at Hogwarts. Hermione smiled.
"Believe me, Professor. I've been asking myself the same question for seven years." she replied. McGonagall sighed, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth, before she nodded towards the door.
"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, if you would, please, follow me..." she murmured, before pivoting on her heel, and exiting the room. Hermione cast a somewhat smug smile at Dawlish, before she and Draco followed the witch out.
The walk to the Headmistress' office was a quiet one, Hermione and Draco keeping an even pace behind the woman as her ever-present emerald green robes billowed out behind her. When finally, they stepped onto the lift that would lead them to McGonagall's office, it was almost a relief.
Hermione glanced over at Draco with an encouraging nod, as the two of them walked further into the Headmistress' office. The witch walked around the edge of her desk, to sit in the high-backed chair.
"Now, Miss Granger," she began, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk. "While I don't at all blame you for your actions towards Professor Dawlish, for he was entirely out of line, I must impress upon you the fact that you are no longer simply a student here. You are Head Girl, and thus lead by example."
"Exactly," Hermione said, no hesitation in her voice. "I lead by example. Meaning that, perhaps, if the other students see me take a stand against discriminatory behaviors displayed by anyone, be it professor or student, they will do the same. I'm not sorry for the things I said to Professor Dawlish – he was intent on humiliating Draco, and I was not about to sit there and allow it to happen."
McGonagall smiled a little.
"And it is for that fact that I choose not to punish you." she mused. "I apologize, on behalf of Professor Dawlish, for -"
"No." Draco said, surprising the two women.
"I beg your pardon?" McGonagall asked, a brow raised. Draco set his jaw.
"Dawlish is the one who needs to apologize to her. Not you, on his behalf, him. The things he said to her in that classroom were cruel and uncalled for." he growled. McGonagall frowned.
"Such as, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, genuinely confused. Hermione closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as Draco continued.
"He insinuated that she enjoyed being tortured by Bellatrix!" he spat, his voice raised and his gray eyes blazing. McGonagall's eyes widened, before her face went blank.
"Did he, now." she said softly, her expression unreadable. "Well, that is entirely inappropriate. I will be speaking to the Minister, and we will be finding a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Miss Granger, you may return to your dorm until your afternoon classes; I believe you've had enough practice in Defense Against the Dark Arts to last a lifetime."
Hermione snorted.
"You could say that," she mumbled. McGonagall smiled faintly, before her eyes shifted to Draco.
"Mr. Malfoy, if you wouldn't mind, I must have a word with you in private." she said. Draco frowned, sharing a look with Hermione, before he nodded.
Hermione, though curious as to what McGonagall would need to say to Draco, left the office. Her curiosity, however, got the better of her, and so she decided to simply wait at the bottom of lift for Draco to be finished with the Headmistress.
She waited for what felt like an hour, glancing up at every little sound as the seconds ticked by. Why she cared to learn what McGonagall had to say to Draco, or even why she'd chosen to defend him against Dawlish, was beyond her. These things just felt... natural, almost.
When Draco finally came down the lift, he had a stony expression on his face, though he didn't look altogether surprised to see her there.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, a frown on her face. Draco sighed, not looking at her.
"My father was sentenced to life in Azkaban." he muttered. "Mother was granted parole, given the fact that she saved Potter's life, but it's conditional... come the winter holiday, I'm to join her at the Manor, along with someone chosen by the Ministry, to oversee her behavior."
"Who?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piquing. Draco chanced a look up at her, ducking his head a bit as a heavy cloak of embarrassment settled over him.
"You."
