Disclaimer: The characters, settings, and world of Harry Potter do not belong to me. The Harry Potter series belongs to JK Rowling.
A/N: Another reference in this chapter! (Hint: It's from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire)
Anyway, here's today's chapter!
Chapter Seven: Seating Arrangments
"All right, folks. I think it's time to wrap up this meeting." Draco said, trying to put a bright note in his voice, despite how quickly the Slytherins' first meeting had gone south. They still had no idea what to call their group, but that, as he was realizing, was the least of their worries.
The rest of his housemates filed out of the Room of Requirement, leaving only him, Theo, Blaise, and Pansy.
Once everyone else had left, Draco let out a long sigh, running his hands through his already-mussed blonde hair, something he did when he was stressed or frustrated.
"Well, that went well, didn't it?" Theo said sarcastically, and Draco put his head in his hands.
"How does Granger do it? Where did she start?" He wondered. The Slytherins' first meeting had been… less than satisfactory. The Room of Requirement had given them
"You have to remember, mate, she's not teaching a bunch of other people-she's only teaching herself." Theo reassured.
"And she's the brightest witch of her age." Blaise reminded him. He was still trying to convince Draco to talk to her, even after the incidence that occurred earlier that night, and the lack of success he'd had the previous night.
"Give it up, Blaise. You've said it, she's said it-we've all said it. She doesn't want anything to do with us." Draco said.
"We can figure this out on our own," Theo said. "I don't want to rely on Granger, for anything."
"So… what happens now?" Pansy asked. "Do we struggle on, or do we call it quits?"
Everyone turned to look at Draco, who despite his protests, had been named the informal leader of the group. "We do what Slytherins have always done. We continue. I know we can make something of this, if we all just put our best foot in."
"Hear, hear." Blaise said heartily.
"Hear, hear." The group repeated.
"Good. Now that that's settled, I was thinking we should have meetings at least twice a week. We can start off small, and then…"
"I don't know why you bother, 'Mione." Harry said as his friend fell into step next to him. "Sometimes, it's best to leave it. Let him come around of his own accord."
"I know you're right, Harry. I just can't help but feel that it's somehow my fault. That I'm held the grudge too long, and now… I don't know. You and Ron have been my friends for so long, and it's silly that we would lose that friendship after all we've been through together."
Harry nodded. "I get it, 'Mione. I really do. But you can't let him get in the way of other things." They entered Professor Umbridge's classroom, and Hermione smiled at Harry as she sat down in her seat, and he into the one next to her.
Once the bell rang, Umbridge moved to the front of the classroom, and gave a sharp rap on the blackboard with her wand, as the class was now used to her doing. "Good afternoon, class." She said sweetly.
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." The class chanted back, their voices monotone and faces bored.
"We're going to change things up a little bit, class." At this, the students looked hopeful. Could they finally be practicing magic? "I've decided to give you all assigned seating-I believe that it would be more beneficial to your learning in this classroom." No one dared to show how they felt about this, for fear of detention with Umbridge, who was now infamous for her detentions. Nevertheless, Hermione could hear the groan left unsaid, hanging in the air. Umbridge apparently heard it too. Her voice assumed a poisonous, saccharine tone. "Now, now, class. It's not all that bad. Why, you yourselves said that you wanted to learn to defend yourselves. I have felt that this class has been… underperforming, and once you are not distracted by your friends, you're learning experience will be more positive with me. Understood?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge." The class said.
"Very good, class. Mister Finnigan, front row, right corner, please. Mister Thomas…" Umbridge continued moving students around the classroom like pawns, until there were only a couple students who had yet to be moved. Umbridge surveyed them. "Miss Granger… remain where you are. Now, Mister Potter and Mister Weasley, switch seats. Mister Crabbe, please move to the front row next to Mister Potter. Mister Goyle, move next to Mister Finnigan. Mister Malfoy, please take the empty seat next to Miss Granger." Hermione gritted her teeth. What was it with this woman? Draco slumped into the seat next to her.
"Wonderful! Now that that's settled, please turn to chapter fifteen in your books, and begin reading. Once you have finished the chapter, please close your books, so I know you are done, and we can move on to today's notes." The students pulled out their books and soon enough the room was silent, filled only with the sound of turning pages and boredom. Hermione actually drifted off for a few minutes, only to jerk back awake when Umbridge cleared her throat.
"Hem, hem." More than a few students startled as if they, too, had fallen asleep. They most likely had. "I see everyone is done, so please begin taking notes." The professor tapped the blackboard at the front of the room, and her familiar, loopy handwriting appeared as the students bent over their papers and the stuffy air crowded with the sound of scratching quills.
The class moved through their routine like puppets, pretending to read what they already knew, and half-heartedly scrawling notes onto their parchment about Defensive Magic Theory, and how to cast a Disarming Charm-one of the the first spells they'd learned in Defense.
She tried to ignore the fact that she was sitting next to Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley-at least the former had the sense to pretend as if he wasn't looking at her. Ron, however, made no move to hide his curious glances. However, it was remarkably hard to look as if she was focusing on her work (even though she had no wish to actually do it), with two of her least favorite people sitting on either side of her, looking at her every other minute. Ron, she suspected, was trying to get her to look at him-this was really getting ridiculous-or to talk to him after class. Draco… Well, he was probably still trying to get her to join the Slytherins' little club.
Hermione had long finished her notes when she saw a small piece of folded parchment drop onto her desk. She kept one hand on her desk, and used the other to subtly unfold it underneath the desk.
Believe me, Granger. I'm about as happy as you are about this seating arrangement.
She rolled her eyes, and looked over at Draco. No shit, she mouthed, then folded over the note, and hastily scribbled, Still trying to recruit me, Malfoy?
He smirked as he read the note.
I was actually going to tell you we don't need you anymore, Granger, was his response.
Good. She scrawled, pushing away the strange feeling that fluttered through. She didn't feel like unpacking her emotions at the moment.
Umbridge cleared her throat, and Hermione and Draco both looked hastily down at their papers. Draco pushed the scrap of paper they'd been using under his book, but just a second too late.
"Passing notes, Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy?" Hermione bit her tongue to keep from voicing her frustration. Come on, Malfoy. Use some of that pureblood privilege and get us out of here.
"No, Professor Umbridge." Malfoy said, with the patient air of someone speaking to a child. "I thought I made it quite clear that I don't usually like to interact with Mudbloods or Gryffindors."
"Detention, Mister Malfoy, for your tone. And you, too, Miss Granger, for passing notes to Mister Malfoy."
"Professor-" Hermione began, but just then, the bell rang, and Umbridge gave her a wide, sticky smile before disappearing into her office. Hermione forcefully shoved her parchment and quill into her bag and set off for Arithmancy.
"Really, Draco?" Blaise asked incredulously. "You sit next to Granger for one class period, and all of the sudden, the two of you are passing notes? In Defense? And you got caught by Umbridge? Please tell me at least one of those things didn't happen."
"One of those things didn't happen?" Draco cringed a little.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Theo asked, trying to hide his laughter, unlike Pansy, who was roaring with mirth in the armchair next to him.
"Umbridge sat us next to each other, if you didn't notice. And all I told her was that-"
"You started it? Salazar, Draco." Pansy gasped.
"Do you really think Granger would write Draco a note without being written one first?" Blaise asked, one dark eyebrow raised.
"True," Pansy conceded.
"Anyway, all I said was that we didn't need her help anymore." Draco muttered.
"A true gentleman." Pansy teased.
"You know me, Pans." Draco said sarcastically, and Pansy fluttered her eyelashes, pretending to preen. He grinned.
"What time is it?" Theo asked, and Blaise checked his watch.
"It's almost five, why?" Blaise responded, and Draco started.
"I've got to talk to Snape about an essay I turned in the other day, I said I'd come see him around five-thirty." Theo said.
"Shit, I've got to get to Umbridge's office. I've got detention tonight, and she'll probably make me write 'I love the Ministry' on the back of my hand if I'm late." Draco said, and sped up the stairs, hastily bidding his friends goodbye.
Hermione cracked open the door to Umbridge's office and stepped in, letting the door shut behind her.
"Please, please. Have a seat, Miss Granger. Mister Malfoy should be here any moment now." Umbridge said sweetly, her voice nearly as sickening as the room around them.
Hermione sat in one of the desks and waited, drumming her fingers across the dark wood of the desktop. Just as she felt he might never come, there was a quick knock on the door. She let out a subtle sigh. Never in her entire life had she been so glad to see Draco Malfoy-even if it was only so she didn't have to stay with this wretched woman for a minute longer than she had to.
"Ah, Mister Malfoy. We were just wondering where you'd gotten off to." Umbridge murmured as Malfoy sat down in the other desk next to Hermione's. "I want you to write something different today. I know last time I had you write 'I must not tell lies', but today each of you will write something different." Hermione kept her face calm as Umbridge gave them each a Black Quill. "Mister Malfoy, I would like you to write, 'I must not mix with Mudbloods', and Miss Granger, I would like you to write, 'I must not interact with those of higher blood status'. Have I made myself clear?"
Hermione ground her teeth. "Actually, Professor, I was just wondering if you are aware that Black Quills are a torture device now banned in many wizarding communities, including this one. To be caught with one is punishable by a very large fine, if not with a short stay in Azkaban. I can only imagine what the consequences of using one on others, let alone minors, would be."
Umbridge's eyes bugged out, and her face turned a dark shade of red. "You forget your place, Miss Granger!" Hermione regarded the professor calmly.
"Is that so?" She asked.
"Yes! You also forget that I work for the Ministry, and am very close with Minister Fudge." Her eyes were wild. "I can get away with things that would make your hair curl." Umbridge snarled.
"Not that it needs it," Draco muttered.
Umbridge took a breath, regaining her composure. "Now, let's begin your lines. I will decide when you are ready to be dismissed. Until then, I expect you to continue writing."
Hermione put the tip of the quill to her paper. Come on, she told herself. Just because you write it down doesn't mean you believe it. You know what you believe, and it's not this.
So why was she still writing?
I must not interact with those of higher, cleaner blood status.
I must not interact with those of higher, cleaner blood status.
I must not-
Hermione set the quill down, tears stinging her eyes-and not just because of her throbbing hand.
A quick glance to her side told her that Draco was having a hard a time of it, too. He had written everything but the last word. His hand kept moving to the paper, but his brow was set in consternation.
"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?" Umbridge asked, tilting her head.
"Yes." Hermione said. Draco looked up, his eyebrows raised.
"And what would that be?" The professor asked venomously.
"I can not write what you asked me to." She said, her voice unwavering.
Umbridge sputtered, her face coloring. "I, well that's-"
"Is there a problem, Professor Umbridge?" Hermione asked, and with that, she stood and walked out of the office.