Harry and Ron had not forgotten. She had saved their skins before, and they were not going to stand by when the likes of Draco Malfoy was going around and joking like that with her. Quietly they let her plan their day, patiently they let her execute her plan, agreeably they did their homework. But on Sunday, after dinner….
"We'll catch you later," said Ron. "I need to return this book to the library, or Madam Pince will have my head." He gestured toward his bag.
"I'll come with you," said Hermione.
"You have to feed Crookshanks," Harry reminded her. Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth.
"You're right! And I didn't feed him after lunch, because of Malfoy. Poor Crookshanks! See you both later!" Distractedly, she dashed off.
Once she had disappeared around the corner, Harry and Ron set off to a point about halfway between the Great Hall and the Slytherin wing. There they waited for Malfoy, human scum extraordinaire.
They didn't have to wait very long. Soon Malfoy came striding down the hall, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Talking amongst themselves, they didn't see Harry and Ron until they were almost upon them. Malfoy grinned broadly, then turned to his faithful subordinates. "Go on," he said. "Nothing to worry about here." Though they looked confused, they obeyed his command. "Potter, Weasley." He nodded.
"Eat dirt, Malfoy."
"Come now, what's this? A civil greeting by me and an insult returns it? I'm hurt." He touched his heart, smirking all the while. "What particular reason do I have to eat dirt today?"
"Hermione told us!" Ron said furiously. "She told us about your—your joke. You filthy git, how dare you treat Hermione like that?"
"So she told you, did she? So she told you it was a joke? Then why are you here?"
"You terrified her!" Harry snapped. "Hermione wouldn't admit to being terrified, but she was alone without her wand and you were holding her down on her knees! You little—"
"She doesn't know you're here, then. Honestly, just because Granger couldn't recognize a joke if it slapped her on the ass—"
They both launched themselves at him, but Malfoy was ready. Raising his arm, where he had been concealing his wand in his sleeve, he screamed "Impedimenta!" Harry and Ron froze in midair, and Malfoy leaned against the wall carelessly. "Now then, haven't I been nothing but nice this year? All I've done is play a harmless joke at Granger's minor expense, and find a few excuses to feel her up. That's not too much for helping her out of more than one sticky situation, now, is it? What I think is that you two just wish you had thought of it first."
While he had been speaking, Harry had gotten angrier and angrier. He could feel it building to the danger zone, and Malfoy's sleazy voice and his careless words just kept feeding it. Ron was incensed too, but it was Harry who could focus his anger without even thinking about it, Harry who had set a snake on his cousin, Harry who had blown up his aunt.
Of a sudden there was a little popping noise, and several things then happened very quickly. Malfoy let out a choking noise and clutched at his throat, dropping his wand. The Impedimenta hex broke. Harry and Ron went tumbling forward. They landed on the floor with a shout and stumbled into Malfoy, pushing him back against the wall. Ron and Harry, recovering quickly, had their wands out and at Malfoy's throat like knives. Ron, who hadn't been able to find an outlet for his anger like Harry had, punched Malfoy hard in the face.
Malfoy coughed, gasped, and wheezed, weakened from his temporary strangulation. He kept wheezing a while after he should have been able to stop, and they realized he was laughing. "Touched a nerve, did I? Don't like me talking about Granger like that?" he rasped. "Well, what are you going to do to me?" He grinned at them.
Harry and Ron glanced at each other. They could already be in trouble. Not just with the school, but with Hermione. The last thing they wanted right then was to cause Hermione stress.
"All right," Harry said in a low voice. "For Hermione, we're letting you off easy. You should be grateful to her. You had better be. I've faced some who are a lot harder to hurt than you, and so has Ron. But you had better watch your jokes from now on." He let go of Malfoy, very reluctantly.
Malfoy massaged his throat. "Excellent," he said. "And, why not? Since you're letting me off so easy, so will I. For Hermione, I won't even report you." Picking up his wand and ignoring theirs suddenly pointing at him, he performed a Concealing Charm on the bruise that was forming where Ron's fist had been so recently. "But you had better watch yourselves from now on." He swept them another bow and went off to Slytherin wing.
Harry and Ron exchanged looks. What was Malfoy doing? Why wasn't he reporting them? Was he really being benevolent? Malfoy? It just couldn't be. It didn't matter. All they could do was make sure Hermione was never alone with Malfoy.
Malfoy turned a corner and leaned against the wall, massaging his throat and smiling. Perhaps they thought he was easy to hurt, but they were far easier. Good people were always very easy to hurt. In this case, he knew just how. This incident only made up his mind more firmly about one or two points. He hadn't looked for this benefit, but now he would enjoy things all the more. His throat still hurt and he didn't care; they would all pay for it.
For Hermione. If they only knew. If they only knew.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
To no one's surprise, Hermione's hand was in the air. "It is the hair on the back of the werewolf's tail," she said breathlessly. "It's very difficult to get, but has amazingly useful properties in transforming potions."
"Did I call on you, Miss Granger?" Snape asked softly. "No? Then be quiet." He looked tired, and Harry guessed he had been wearing his mask last night. Harry decided not to jump at him for his abruptness with Hermione. Hermione looked hurt, but she saw the scratch on his hand and the bags under his eyes, and kept quiet. Ron, however, was having none of it.
"Now wait just a minute!" he said. "She was the only one who raised her hand. How could you not let her answer?"
Snape's eyes glittered. "Do not question me, Weasley, I warn you. Do not push me today."
Ron glared but fell silent. Snape turned away and continued the lecture.
Waiting only until his attention was on another student, Ron began to mutter angrily to his friends. "What's he on about today? That git needs some serious help. Why did you let him talk to you like that, Hermione? He can't just keep picking on us, I've had enough, six years of him hating us and I can't stand…"
"Ron!" Hermione whispered. "Can't you see he's tired today? Don't harass him..."
"Granger. Now you're talking out of turn again? Detention. Tonight you can clean Room Eleven, where Firenze taught briefly last year. No magic."
Harry was opening his mouth to protest—there were limits to the license being tired gave you—but was beaten to the punch.
"Professor! That's not fair. Weasley was the one talking, not her." None other than Draco Malfoy was coming to the defense of one of his worst enemies. The entire room stared at him openmouthed.
Snape shut his mouth, then opened it again. "I'm surprised at you, Mr. Malfoy. But as you wish—you can help Granger clean Room Eleven tonight."
The astonishment of the class only grew when Malfoy sat down and smirked, looking enormously self-satisfied.