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Hermione looked around Snape's Defense classroom as she entered, her arms leaden with a mountain of coursework, Harry and Ron by her side. Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already; it was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures. She grimaced and turned her attention instead to the students in the classroom.
Their small class was comprised of a mixture of students from all houses, including Malfoy, who she spotted out of the corner of her eye, looking as though he'd gotten about as much sleep as she had, which was very little, if any.
She wondered if he'd still be taking the class if it were not now taught by Snape, but she just as quickly realized she shouldn't really be surprised to see him, even though she'd rather not admit it; he was one of the best students in their year.
"I have not asked you to take out your books," Snape announced sharply, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Malfoy now forgotten, she hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."
His black eyes roved over their upturned faces. She wasn't sure if she imagined it or not, but she could have sworn his gaze lingered upon her face for a fraction longer than anyone else's.
"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."
Don't remind me, Hermione thought grimly.
"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the
N.E.W.T. work, which will be more advanced."
Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.
"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."
Snape's instruction oddly reminded her of Harry's description of defense.
"Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo.
These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" (he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony) "feel the Dementor's Kiss" (a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall) "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" (a bloody mass upon ground).
Hermione grimaced, her expression pained as she recalled Harry's near miss with Umbridge's 'Crucio'; she remembered her own panic, the moment before Dolohov's hex had struck her. She noticed Harry glance her way; she considered perhaps he was remembering the same.
"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" interrupted Parvati Patil in a high pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"
"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."
He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him.
"... you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"
She raised her hand into the air, ignoring Malfoy's quiet scoff. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well—Miss Granger?"
"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," said Hermione, "which gives you a split-second advantage."
"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six," said Snape dismissively, "but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress in using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some, "his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry, "lack."
Hermione knew Snape was of course referring to Harry's disastrous Occlumency lessons the previous year. She deeply regretted the fallout from the failure of these lessons, and she rather wished she had had the opportunity to learn Occlumency. With impatience she watched as Harry refused to drop his gaze, glowering at Snape until the professor looked away.
If only he could've put his prejudice aside, Hermione thought, thinking of Harry. Things might've turned out differently. Sirius might be alive.
She inwardly shook her head.
No— I can't think like that. It's not Harry's fault… it's Voldemort's. That's why we need Defense.
"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence— I will choose the pairs," Snape continued, interrupting the students who had already begun pairing up with their friends. "As Dumbledore made quite clear in his welcome speech, we must be thinking of house unity."
The disdainful tone in Snape's voice as he spoke the term 'house unity' made it quite clear how much he really cared for the sentiment.
Snape began partnering students, "Let's see, Miss Patil and Mister Longbottom… Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger…"
Hermione grimaced, but an uncontrolled sense of opportunity burned in her chest. She felt as though the necklace was throbbing against her throat, but really, it was just her beating heart.
She vaguely wondered if Malfoy's Dark Mark, the one she now assumed was there on his left forearm, still pained him from their encounter on the train.
Maybe that will give me an advantage.
She turned in her seat to see a clearly displeased Malfoy whispering something to a smirking Nott, who had just been paired with Ron.
The room clattered with the shuffling of chairs and tables as everyone found their partners and places.
Hermione stood about six feet apart from Malfoy as they glared at one another in equal measure.
In truth, Draco was perturbed by Snape's choice of partners. He knew his appointment to Granger had been calculated and purposeful. It was clear to him Snape was trying to make a point, but Draco was determined not to give in.
Pair me with her all term for all I care, Draco muttered inside his head, as if the professor could hear. I'm not going to suddenly come running for help.
"Let's get this over with," Hermione sighed.
"I can assure you, it will be quick… but hardly painless."
"Go ahead, then," Hermione rolled her eyes and she saw Malfoy smirk in reply, "try to jinx me."
Try Draco did, without much success. He focused on the desired spell as much as his distracted, sleep-deprived mind would allow, but even as he closed his eyes in an attempt to shut out his surroundings, the image of Granger pressing a wand into his Mark flooded into view, and the feeling of Snape's scrutinizing gaze upon him from across the room interrupted his already weakened concentration.
Draco swore inwardly as he opened his eyes to find Granger mockingly examining her fingernails in boredom. He clenched his jaw in irritation, he was usually better at compartmentalizing.
As if to make his failure more acute, he overheard Snape award Theo thirty house points for his accurate, and silent, shielding of Weasley's accidentally verbalized Jelly-Legs jinx.
"Silence, Weasley, or do I need to send you to the hospital wing on the basis of acute memory loss?"
He could practically feel Theo's smugness from across the room, but Draco couldn't say he was exactly surprised his friend would excel at non-verbal spells.
His anger piqued, Draco attempted one last non-verbal jinx, and felt a tingle in his fingertips, as if his magic were aching to be released; but nothing happened.
"Forget it," he abdicated, furious with himself. He knew he'd need to learn non-verbal spells, and fast, if he hoped to survive this war. "Go ahead," he nodded to Granger.
She said nothing, and Draco watched intently as her eyes closed, her dark eyelashes capturing his gaze even from a distance. Hermione's face relaxed, tranquil but focused, and Draco discovered he did not want to look away.
Malfoy and the classroom faded away as Hermione closed her eyes in concentration. She'd read about non-verbal spells, of course, and knew they required extreme focus. She listened to her breath, in and out, and the steady beat of her heart, but again she could not ignore the cool sensation of the necklace at her throat, and the anger that came with it.
Without any sign of warning, Hermione's golden brown eyes abruptly snapped open, and her gaze met Draco's for an instant before her jinx burst forth, her lips never moving.
Suddenly, Draco found he no longer had control of his legs, and he toppled to the floor. Caught off-guard, he hadn't even attempted a shielding spell.
Across the room, Hermione saw Harry and Ron beaming at her. She smiled, trying not to look too pleased with herself.
Draco witnessed the exchange, and felt rather like vomiting.
Pathetic, he thought, wondering why Granger still needed Potter and Weasley's approval, even though it had been clear to him for some time she was more powerful than they could ever hope to be.
Hermione turned back to Malfoy, who was brushing himself off, rising to his feet, and she was annoyed to find that he somehow managed to look as if he'd fallen to the floor on his own volition.
Snape glided over to them.
"It seems Mister Malfoy has also forgotten my instruction— you are to shield yourself from your opponent's jinx. Well done, Miss Granger. Thirty points to Gryffindor," Snape spoke, ensuring the entire class could hear, his black pupils never moving from Draco.
Draco opened his mouth to argue, but knew Snape's praise was disingenuous; a thinly veiled extension of their conversation from the night before.
Hermione gawked at Snape's rare praise of her— of a Gryffindor— in disbelief, but she was even more surprised to find Malfoy shooting Snape a look of sheer loathing, one that rivaled the looks Harry reserved for the professor.
Snape's praise and Malfoy's look clearly had implications, the nature of which Hermione couldn't be certain.
It can't be anything to do with what happened on the train… could it? She wondered. The Professor had only taken points from Gryffindor, not Slytherin, for their lateness to the feast. She resolved to bring it up with Harry later.
"You will now select a new partner of your own choosing," Snape announced to the class. Draco scowled at the confirmation that his partnering with Granger had not been random; Snape had hoped for him to fail against Granger, to make a point.
Hermione stepped forward, sarcastic words on the tip of her tongue, but as she met his gaze again, his light gray eyes cool and expectant, she found she was unable to formulate anything coherent.
"What, Granger, back for more?" Draco said, his eyebrow arched mockingly.
Still unable to piece together a worthy reply, Hermione remained silent, and turned to go and find Neville, as Ron and Harry had already partnered up.
Ten minutes into the second round, Hermione had managed to repel Neville's accidentally muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx without uttering a single word. This time, Snape ignored her success.
Snape continued to sweep between the students as they practiced, lingering to watch Harry and Ron struggling with the task.
Ron, who was supposed to be jinxing Harry, was purple in the face, his lips tightly compressed to save himself from the mistake he'd made earlier with Nott. Hermione saw that Harry had his wand raised, waiting on tenterhooks to repel a jinx that seemed unlikely ever to come.
"Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape, after a while. "Here— let me show you—"
The professor turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry no doubt reacted instinctively, yelling, "Protego!"
His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.
"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry stiffly.
"Yes, sir," replied Snape firmly.
"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor."
Hermione winced. There go the house points I earned, she thought dryly.
Several people gasped. Draco and Theo rolled their eyes. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean, and Seamus grinned appreciatively.
"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Snape. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter... not even the Chosen One."
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A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing!