Chapter 12

The day of the Quidditch match was almost here, and I was grumpy. I woke up in a bad mood that persisted throughout breakfast, but internally I was looking at the raging weather outside and glad I didn't have to play in it. I looked over as Draco made a big deal about his arm, rolling my eyes as I saw he was doing it for Potter's sake. I shook my head and got up from the end of the table. I hadn't eaten much, but I couldn't stomach anything more. I went through classes in a grouchy haze, and finally got to Defense Against the Dark Arts, dismayed to see Snape standing there, rather than Lupin. At least Lupin's classes were fun, even if I didn't much like him. Snape was sure to criticize everything. I sat at the back of the classroom, hoping he would just leave me alone to my moodiness.

Draco came waltzing in at the last minute, and ended up sitting next to me, smirking. I looked at him, frowning. "What are you looking so smug about?" I whispered.

"Lupin's not coming today, he's sick." He leaned closer to me, and whispered right next to my ear so that I felt his lips on it, "Plus, I get to sit next to you."

I blushed and leaned away. I wasn't given a chance to answer to his playful grin, as the bell rang and Snape told us to put our wands away, as we would be reading out of the textbook. There were some groans of protest, but everyone put them away. Snape droned on about Lupin's lack of organization, until Harry Potter came in the door, looking out of breath. Everyone turned to look at him.

Once Snape had taken fifteen points from Gryffindor, he finally got back on track, and flipped to the back, to the section about werewolves. I rolled my eyes. He very well knew we hadn't covered those, and apparently I wasn't the only only one thinking it, as Hermione couldn't restrain herself from saying we were supposed to start on Hinkypunks.

Snape assumed his 'One more outburst and I will murder somebody' look, which wasn't really that rare or much of a change from his normal expression. "Miss Granger, I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around at the class, who were all watching the standoff in silence. "All of you! Now!"

Many people were upset about it, but we all turned to the right page. I looked down at it, starting to read. I thought that would be the end of it. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" Snape asked. Everyone was silent, and motionless. I was fuming inside my head. As if we'd know, when this was the very back of the book! Hermione's hand went up, but hers was the only one. Snape ignored it, telling us how behind we were.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore, and she decided to take it upon herself to answer his question. She should've known better, I thought to myself, shaking my head. She ought to have known very well by now that Snape wouldn't like this.

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

I sucked in a shocked breath, then glared at Draco, who was trying to hide his laugh behind his hand. All the Gryffindors were glaring at Snape, though I was pretty sure most of them had called her the same thing before.

Ron burst out, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

Now I was the one hiding a smirk behind my hand, but he really did go too far with a teacher. Snape got close to him, then said, "Detention, Weasley. And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

After that, everyone was silent as the grave. We took notes on werewolves as Snape prowled, scrutinizing every bit of work anyone had done for Lupin. About halfway through class, while I was taking distracted notes just so Snape couldn't be angry at me, Draco slid a note over to me, looking every bit absorbed in his note taking. I glanced up at Snape, then down at the note. "Notice how it's the full moon?" is all it said.

I frowned at the note, then wrote, "What?" and pushed it back over.

Draco audibly sighed as he wrote on the note. "It's the full moon, and Lupin isn't here."

"The point?" I wrote back, looking at him confusedly.

He sighed again, then pointed meaningfully to his book. My eyes went wide with realization of what he was suggesting.

"You think Lupin's a werewolf?" I wrote hurriedly.

However, Snape must've noticed us, as he came back to our seats. "Passing notes in my class, Savela? Hand it over." I did, reluctantly, face burning. as the class turned to stare. Now we'd probably get detention, too. But I was wrong; Snape just read the note, smirking, then said, "Five points to Slytherin for excellent judgment." He even gave the note back to me. "Get back to work, everyone," he snapped, and everyone's heads went back down.

I exchanged a look with Draco, for Snape had just confirmed that our teacher was a werewolf, which was no doubt the end goal of making us study this chapter. It seemed exceptionally mean-spirited, but also, our teacher was a werewolf and we really did have the right to know that. I stuck the note in with the notes I was writing, and paid more attention to the chapter than I had been before.

Snape kept us after the bell rang to let class out, telling us all to write two rolls of parchment on werewolves by Monday morning, "except for Mr. Malfoy and Miss Savela, as I do believe they already have a good handle on the subject." He smirked again, then dismissed us, telling Ron Weasley to stay behind to discuss his detention.

I didn't talk to Draco again until that night, when he pulled me into a deserted hallway after supper. "Shouldn't we go somewhere more private?" I asked him, and in response, he simply pulled me by the arm into an empty classroom, then shut the door.

The first thing out of his mouth was, "I can't believe that dunce, Dumbledore, hired a bloody werewolf to be our professor! Wait until my father hears about this!" He seemed happy about it and disturbed by it, somehow at the same time.

"Hold on, Draco, before you go telling your father and getting him fired, just think for second," I said. "Dumbledore did hire him, and while I feel like we might've had a right to know, this is probably the exact reason we weren't told. He's not a bad teacher, really."

He turned on me, an angry look on his face. "So you're defending the half-breed, are you?" He advanced on me, and I backed up, until I hit the wall. "Defending a monster that could slaughter all of us just because the moon happened to be out that night?" He got close, then leaned his arms on the wall on either side of my head, trapping me there. "You have a crush on him, too? Or is this just because he likes your friend, Potty the Golden Boy?"

I frowned up at him. "You very well know that it's not either of those, and if he was going to kill us, he's had a few months to do it. But do tell, what does being a half-breed have to do with anything?" I had an innocent expression on my face.

"Don't look at me like that, you know what I meant."

Okay, maybe my expression wasn't as unassuming as I thought. I kept on, though. "Do I? Do I really? Because the only thing I could get from that, Draco Malfoy, is that him being a half-breed somehow puts him at a lower status than you, which I must've misunderstood, since you're not supposed to be like that anymore. At least, not really. Isn't it all a show for others, like you claimed? Because this sounds like it's not." Now I was glaring, my arms crossed over my chest.

He sighed, and leaned down further, his face now just an inch from mine. "I just think he's dangerous."

"A dangerous half-breed, you mean."

"No, a dangerous werewolf, I mean."

"Then don't say half-breed. It's the same as calling me a mudblood, it's degrading."

"I will try to break the habit," he conceded finally, after staring at me for a good 30 seconds.

"While you're at it, try to break that habit of automatically assuming I'm in love with everyone you don't like," I added, still upset.

He stiffened, but nodded anyway. I finally relaxed enough to notice how close we were, with me backed up against a wall, and blushed, which made him smirk. "Well, while I've got you here..." He leaned in and kissed me. I thought about not kissing back out of sheer spite, but ended up with my arms around his neck as he pressed me against the wall.

The next morning was Quidditch, which, I reminded myself, I was not playing in that day. I looked at my watch, surprised at how early I woke up. It was just after 6 am, and I was pissed about my lack of sleep. I tried to get back to sleep, but at about 6:30 am, I gave up and dressed, in an even worse mood than the day before.

I went down to the common room, which was quite chilly, and looked out the windows to see the churning waters of the lake. I couldn't see anything, though, the windows as black as the night. The only light was coming from the fireplace and the candles around, which gave the impression that it was the middle of the night. I went to stand in front of the fireplace for a moment, warming up. No one else was up yet. After a few minutes, I started up to breakfast, thinking it must be nearly time for it anyway. When I entered, I expected to be alone. I did not expect Harry Potter to be practically falling asleep over a bowl of porridge.

I sighed, debated internally, then finally went over there. I tapped on his shoulder, and he gave a little jolt. "Hey, you look even more tired than me, and that's saying something," I smiled at him.

He gave a big yawn. "Peeves was being irritating this morning, he woke me up a couple of hours ago." He looked at the storm outside. "Couldn't go back to sleep while thinking about Quidditch."

I nodded, and leaned over the table to grab a sausage link. "I get that."

Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes at me while I nibbled the sausage. "Do you? I bet you're pretty glad that you don't have to play out in that today."

I rolled my eyes. "You're just so egotistical, aren't you? For your information, when they told me we weren't playing yet, I was pissed about it. Today would've been my first Quidditch match, ever, you think I'm happy about it being postponed?"

He flushed a little and looked back to his porridge. "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed," he mumbled.

I finished my piece of sausage. "It's fine, just remember what they say about assuming."

He looked back at me. "What do they say about assuming?"

I smirked a little. "'Don't assume, it makes an ass out of you and me." I turned and walked away while he smiled a bit.

I was stuffing my face with hash browns by the time people were almost done trickling into the hall. Most of the Slytherin Quidditch team looked smug, and the Gryffindors looked like they were dreading the match. To be fair, the Hufflepuffs didn't look as excited as usual, either. I was mulling over an idea that I had had for a while, as Thanksgiving was coming up, but that's a distinctly American holiday, so they don't celebrate it at Hogwarts, ever. I was staring distractedly at my food, until I noticed people were filing outside to run down to the Quidditch pitch. I shoveled that last bit in my mouth, and got up as I was chewing. I stood in the entrance hall, trying to decide how I was going to get the least wet while running down to the pitch, when I saw Draco just outside the entrance, with a massive umbrella that looked like it could easily shelter 5 people. It looked like he must've been waiting for his sidekicks, Crabbe and Goyle. I took the opportunity to go over to him.

I got beneath the umbrella. "Come on, take me down to the pitch."

"I'm not a ferry," he frowned at me.

"Draco, I'll kiss you in front of everyone if I have to. You don't want me to get drenched and catch a cold or something when you could've prevented it, do you?" I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

He rolled his eyes, but I could see his lips tugging up at the corners. "I'm not fooled by you, but come on, before anyone notices."