Hello, everyone! Thank you so, so much for the warm reception of the story! For the comments, favs and follows... I hope you like this second chapter too... Thank you very much in advance for reading! 😊
CHAPTER 2
The Snitch
"Are you sure you're okay, Neville? Don't you want to go to the Hospital Wing?"
"No, don't worry…" he muttered, just before blowing his nose with a handkerchief. He looked at Harry, Ron and Hermione and smiled sadly, "Thanks for helping me, I don't know what I would have done without you."
"It was nothing," Ron said, taking another handkerchief from the box next to him and handing it to him. "That's what friends are for."
Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione were in Gryffindor Tower, in the boys' dormitory, which was currently empty. Luckily, Neville had no visible injuries from the mishap with the Slytherins; it had just been a big, nasty scare. He had dried off and changed his clothes and now seemed to be calmer. And he was refusing to go to the Hospital.
"Don't worry, it's all over now," Harry corroborated, putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it in a friendly manner. "But Neville, this has to be told to someone, to Dumbledore..." he protested again, looking at him in frustration.
"No!" Neville exclaimed instantly, alarmed. He swallowed and looked away as he added, more calmly, "If I tell, they'll find out, and they'll manage to do something worse to me… Or worse, to you."
"They don't scare us at all," Ron said dismissively, crossing his arms.
"I know, but… Don't do it, guys, please," the young man pleaded. Fear and heaviness contracted his round face. "It was just a one-time thing. I want to forget about it and that's it... If they do anything to me again I'll tell, I promise, but not now. Besides, the last thing I want to do is get you involved as well..." his eyes glazed over as tears came again.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look, equally grief-stricken.
"Neville," Harry sighed, putting an arm around his shoulders, "you're too good for this world.
That comment brought a shy half-smile to the young man's face.
"How did they catch you?" Ron wanted to know, settling his long, crossed legs on the bed more comfortably. "And I'd ask why, but I feel it would be silly..."
"I was on my way to class when they showed up. I'd come from the greenhouses, I'd been there with Professor Sprout. They tried to make me angry, Malfoy picked on me, saying that I... shag Professor Sprout," he grimaced indignantly, pursing his lips, but he couldn't help blushing in spite of himself at such an accusation. "And in the end I got fed up and insulted them. I told Malfoy that if I was sleeping with Sprout, he was sleeping with Snape," he revealed with unusual ferocity. Ron let out a loud laugh of admiration, and slapped his thigh.
"Bloody hell, Neville," he was surprised, still laughing, "You've got some balls. You're my idol. I would have paid to see the look on Malfoy's face..."
Neville chuckled, embarrassed, though flattered by Ron's reaction. He squirmed slightly before continuing.
"Of course, they were pissed. And they wouldn't let me leave, so I pulled out my wand. And when they saw me trying to defend myself, they caught me, and... Well, you saw that. I should have just left, they did that to me for following the fight."
"Bunch of cowards," Harry replied, in a snarl, clenching his fists tightly on his knees.
"How did you find me?" Neville wanted to know, curious, before blowing his nose again.
"Hermione warned us, we didn't notice anything. She told us she saw you through the window, right?" Ron replied, looking at the girl as if encouraging her to tell her story. "And what's wrong with you?" he asked next, confused, not having gotten an answer to his first question.
The three boys averted their gazes to stare at the back of a silent Hermione. The girl was standing, leaning against one of Neville's bedposts, turned away from the conversation, her arms folded in front of her chest. They sensed that she was staring blankly, deep in thought. She hadn't spoken for a long time, which was unusual for her, so it was understandable that Ron had been concerned. She seemed a bit lost. They began to hear the sound of rain pattering on the window panes. They hadn't noticed it while they were talking, but the room had been losing light, the sun being hidden by grey clouds.
"Everything all right, Hermione?" Harry asked as well, frowning at his friend's back.
She still didn't answer. In fact, her friend's voice came to her as if he was far away. She was furious. Rage boiled up inside her like corrosive acid. Malfoy occupied her thoughts completely. She was so outraged at what had happened that she couldn't even articulate a word. Unlike Neville, the last thing she felt was fear towards Draco Malfoy. She only felt hatred. Hatred and pity. Malfoy was one of the most despicable people she had ever had the misfortune of encountering. How could he be so ruthless? What pleasure could he find in ranting and railing left and right against them? Against someone so good as Neville... It was disgusting. He was a coward. She could still visualise the anger with which his eyes had flashed as he'd lunged at her, after she'd given him the slap...
"Hermione…?" Harry insisted as he saw the girl still didn't speak. He leaned in, still sitting on Neville's bed, trying to get a look at her face. Ron made to get to his feet to approach her, worried.
"He's a demon," Hermione managed to articulate then, with difficulty. Her voice was shaking with indignation. "He's a bloody demon."
Harry straightened back up on the bed, and Ron settled his legs back down. They both exchanged a glance with Neville in silence, somewhat surprised to hear their friend utter such harsh words.
However, all three were in complete agreement with her.
"Hermione, please be still!" Ron pleaded desperately, grabbing a new napkin and wiping up the milk that had spilled across the table. "You're making a mess of everything..."
"Oh, I'm sorry!" she groaned as she put the Numerology and Grammatica book back in her bag under the dining room table. She had taken it out several times to review it at breakfast, and each time she pulled it out, she would impatiently rest it on whatever plate or glass was on the table, splashing its contents all over her friends. "I'm just so nervous! I've got — !"
"Arithmancy exam," Harry finished patiently, as he tried to wipe the milk Hermione had spilled on him off his robes. "We already know that."
"And I'm sure I'm going to — !" the girl added, anxiously.
"Pass," Ron finished now, with a sigh, putting the wet napkin to one side. "We don't doubt it."
"No, no, no!" the girl howled hysterically, glaring indignantly at him, "I'm likely to forget everything...! There's too much to memorise, I'm sure — !"
"Hermione, doesn't the fact that you've got straight O's in every subject for the last six years tell you anything?" a voice behind them interrupted her. Ginny had just arrived in the Great Hall, and sat down next to them for breakfast, making room to sit between Harry and her. She had an amused smile etched on her lips. Hermione shook her head, seemingly unclear as to what her friend was referring to. "Merlin's beard! You're going to do great... In fact, I doubt you'll have enough time to write down everything you already know."
Hermione gasped, and her dark eyes widened wildly.
"I hadn't thought of that!" she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, looking stressed again.
Ginny raised her eyes to the sky, and looked at Harry, on the other side of her, with amused annoyance. Harry let out a chuckle. Ron poked vehemently at a piece of sausage before popping it into his mouth without comment. Hermione, still frowning with worry, looked up as she sensed movement above their heads.
"Ah! The post is coming," she reported, calmer. "Put away the glasses."
"What glasses?" Ron scoffed. "You've knocked them all over already..."
A great multitude of multi-coloured owls flooded into the Great Hall at once, causing a slight commotion as they landed on the breakfast tables to deliver letters and parcels, all the while hooting. A grey owl landed in front of Hermione, with her copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in its hooves. The girl handed it a Knut, and hastily unfolded the newspaper as the owl flew away.
"Has there been an attack or something?" Ron asked uneasily, trying to read the front page of the paper as the girl examined the inside.
"It doesn't look like it," Hermione replied calmly from behind the newspaper. "Today's news is that a famous witch is pregnant," she snorted and turned the page impatiently. "Who would be interested in that?"
"It's very odd that there have been no attacks," Harry commented gruffly, drumming his fingers on the table. "Nothing unusual has happened since Voldemort's return. He's just been in the shadows."
"Do you think he's — I don't know — given up?" Ron muttered worriedly, without much conviction. Ginny gave him a look of disbelief.
"He's never going to give up," Harry said resolutely, putting his fork full of bacon in his mouth. "He must be planning something," he added, his mouth a little full, his green eyes lost in the veins of the table. "Something important. And he doesn't want to make any mistakes..."
"Harry Potter," a deep voice suddenly uttered, from somewhere far away, or perhaps from inside his head. Harry's fork fell to his plate with a loud clatter. The boy looked around in alarm, watching his surroundings carefully. Again, no one seemed to be paying attention to him. Nor did anyone look suspicious.
"Did you hear that?" he mumbled, feeling a wave of coldness creep into his bones, drawing the stares of his friends. He gave them an uneasy look, and they frowned at his obvious concern.
Ron's mouth was too full to respond comprehensibly, and he hurriedly tried to swallow, chewing more quickly. Ginny just stared at him intently, her freckled face tense with anticipation. Hermione was the first to speak, poking her head out from behind the paper.
"Yes," she replied impatiently. "You said he must be planning something and —"
"No, not that! The voice that said my name!" the dark-haired boy explained, his nervousness rising to the surface. Hermione glared at him.
"No one has said your name, Harry," she said firmly, closing the newspaper and setting it on the table. "What are you talking about?"
"Someone called my name," Harry insisted, rubbing his head with one hand. "And I can't believe you didn't hear it. Then it must have been inside my mind..."
"Like in the Library?" Ron interjected quickly, leaning slightly towards him. Harry bit his lip and nodded quickly.
"Wait, wait… What do you mean in the Library?" Hermione replied indignantly. She leaned in front of Ginny's body so she could get a better look at him, and put a hand on her hip in annoyance, "It's happened to you before? Why didn't you tell me?"
"What happened in the Library?" Ginny asked in return, still scrutinising the boy with her lively eyes. Harry swallowed, and sighed before explaining:
"The other day, when I was in the Library with Ron, I suddenly heard a very strange voice calling out to me. It just said my name. And since Ron didn't hear it, I assumed it was a hallucination. But now I'm sure, I heard it clearly... I think I can hear it inside my head. Now it's just happened to me again. It's not Voldemort," he hastened to add as he saw the discomposed expressions of his friends. "I'm sure it's not him..."
"Tell Dumbledore, Harry," Hermione ordered hastily, breathing heavily. "He has to know. Go to his office and tell him."
"I'm not going to bother him with something like that," replied the dark-haired boy, blushing. "He is going to think I'm paranoid. I'm sure it was just my imagination. That's just it."
"Twice?" Hermione replied sharply, impatiently.
"I'm stressed out with homework, I'm sure that's what's making me delirious. I'm fine, really," he insisted, unable to help but glance around again, before returning his attention to his plate.
"All right, suit yourself, you're a big boy. But I'm warning you, if it happens again, you'll go to see Dumbledore," Hermione ordered, adamant. With a sigh, and a last worried glance at his friend, she turned her wrist to look at her wristwatch. "Well, I'll be off now. I'd rather be up early. I've got Ancient Runes now... and then the exam," she added, again a little nervously, bending down to pick up her bag. "Wish me luck. I'll see you in Herbology."
"Best of luck," Harry wished her, smiling sympathetically. "For both classes."
Hermione sighed, getting to her feet, stepping off the bench, and slung her bag over her shoulder. She held out her copy of the Daily Prophet in case anyone wanted to read it, and Ron took it in the hand that wasn't holding his fork.
"I think I'll need even more luck for Ancient Runes," the girl wailed, looking at them resignedly. "Let's see what stupid pastime they have prepared for today..."
"Cheer up, tell us about it later and let off some steam," Ginny wished her well, giving her a thumbs-up gesture of encouragement. Ron, who had just put a forkful of scrambled eggs in his mouth, waved goodbye and gave her the same good luck gesture as his sister.
Hermione left the Great Hall and hurried up the Marble Staircase to the upper floors. The Ancient Runes classroom was on the sixth floor, and it would take her a few minutes to get there. She met practically no one, as it was early and most of the students were still at breakfast. Still, out of habit, she took a shortcut behind a tapestry and, after climbing a couple of narrow spiral stairs, she reached the corridor in which her class was located.
The door was already open, although Binns had not yet arrived. There were only a few students, seated at desks in one corner. All wore similar expressions of resignation. The peace in the air seemed unreal. When Malfoy and his cronies arrived, it would be gone instantly, and everyone knew it. Hermione held back a sigh at her thoughts, and moved forward to sit at her desk, leaving her bag on the table. She prayed to herself that her classmates wouldn't make more of a fuss than usual and allow her to study for the next hour's exam. Although she knew it was probably too much to ask.
As if fate had heard her thoughts, there were loud footsteps in the corridor, accompanied by uproarious laughter and energetic voices. Malfoy was the first to enter the classroom, surrounded by a group of people laughing unconcernedly at the volume and gesticulating violently, animatedly. Hermione clenched her jaws and looked back down at her desk. She was so frustrated that she felt like screaming. That day's class was going to be just like all the others... She listened, for she refused to look, as Malfoy's group moved tables and chairs so that they could sit on them in any manner, at the back of the class, all the while chattering loudly. Before long, the rest of the missing students arrived, some of whom enthusiastically joined Malfoy's group, and some of whom joined the resigned group that stood on the sidelines in the corner. Hermione, in the middle of both groups, sitting stubbornly in the place where her desk would normally be, reluctantly turned her face over her shoulder to look at the people arriving at that moment. A black hair caught her eye.
Theodore Nott entered the classroom with an absent look on his face and, after glancing around reluctantly, approached Malfoy and his rowdy companions. He sat quietly at the table next to Draco, who was saying something while making great fusses, making his classmates bawl with laughter. Nott settled into his chair and pulled a dark-cover book out of his bag and began to read.
Hermione frowned quizzically, not taking her eyes off Nott. He really did seem different from the other Slytherins she knew. From what little she had heard of him, she knew that he was quite a loner, and that he wasn't interested in gangs like the one Malfoy presided over. Now she understood why he apparently didn't have many friends, at least in Slytherin; he didn't seem like the sort of person who hung out with Draco's cronies. Still, given that the girl had seen him several times in Malfoy's company, and knew they were good friends, she had assumed he possessed the same prejudices and attitude, though he never seemed to go looking for trouble, unlike the blond. But his behaviour the day before had puzzled her. He had spoken to her coolly, normally, without any reservations or disdain, and had warned her about what was being done to Neville. In short, he had helped her. Without expecting anything in return. Or so it seemed.
The girl hadn't been able to tell Harry and Ron about her encounter with the Slytherin, and had simply told them that she had seen the whole thing through the window. She wasn't quite sure why she had lied to them, but a hunch had prompted her to do so. Perhaps it was simply that she didn't quite understand what had happened. She didn't understand what had inspired Nott to talk to her for the first time in seven years, and to warn her of a cruelty committed by his friends. Or maybe she hadn't said anything to Harry and Ron because deep down she knew that Nott's act wouldn't have gone down too well with the other Slytherins, and she had subconsciously decided to keep it a secret.
That boy had even grabbed Malfoy when he seemed ready to attack her.
She didn't quite understand what was going on, but she did think she would like to talk to that Nott boy to clear it up. Although it wouldn't be very appropriate at the moment, with both of them in a classroom with Malfoy and his cronies. She didn't want to get him in trouble after what he'd done for Neville. But she told herself that she would find an appropriate time to question him and get him to explain his behaviour. She could still hear his panting, serious voice in her head.
'Draco is my friend, but I don't agree with what he's doing. And he doesn't listen to me. I think you're the only one who can stop him.'
"Me, stop Malfoy? It has to be a joke," the young woman thought, resigned, listening to Malfoy's high voice followed by the laughter of his classmates. She would love to be able to do it, but she didn't think she was capable of confronting him so directly. She felt that it would only make the situation worse. It was not her way to be so impulsive.
Malfoy had always been a bully, even if his actions had never been as significant as they were at the moment. But all in all, the situation wasn't that serious either, it was just annoying. It would be sorted out in no time, as soon as the teacher was back in class and Binns was out of the way. As long as things didn't get any more out of hand than they should have, of course.
Hermione took a deep breath, convincing herself that she wouldn't be affected by whatever those idiots did, and opened her Arithmancy book so she could revise, at the exact moment when Binns made his presence known.
The old ghost professor entered through the blackboard, silently, and sat down at his desk, not even looking up and apparently not realising that he was not alone in the classroom. He scrambled his transparent hands over the sheets of paper already laid out in front of him on the table and began correcting papers unperturbed by the scandal of his students. Malfoy and the others continued in the same exaggeratedly loud tone of voice, unfazed by the professor's presence.
Hermione looked at Binns sadly. Did the ghosts lose their hearing? Why didn't he say anything to them? Why didn't he care if they made a fuss?
"What are we going to do today, Malfoy?" exclaimed a burly Hufflepuff boy, excitedly, and shouting as if the young blond was standing on top of a mountain several hundred feet away.
"I brought this," Malfoy replied, in a satisfied voice, showing something that Hermione, whose back was turned to them, neither saw nor wanted to see. He spoke louder than necessary, too, but at least not loud enough to shatter Hermione's eardrums.
His classmates let out a cheer, sending a shiver of fear down Hermione's spine. Such excitement did not bode well.
"A Snitch!" shouted one of them. "How cool, where did you get it?"
"I stole it from the Quidditch team," Malfoy replied, not hiding his cockiness. "I thought we could have some fun with it. And that's not the only thing..."
A zip could be heard unzipping, which Hermione imagined was from Malfoy's bag, and everyone shrieked with excitement again. The girl was already breaking out in a cold sweat.
"A Quaffle!" exclaimed another of the students, a scrawny Ravenclaw boy. Hermione's blood ran cold. "This is gonna be awesome!"
Hermione couldn't disagree more. No way. A surge of electricity shot up from her feet to the ends of her frizzy hair, sending her jumping to her feet and turning to face them sharply.
"Don't even think of it!" she shouted, her face contorted with rage. The group fell silent and turned to her, giving identical looks of contempt, "That's as far as we could go! I won't have you playing Quidditch in a classroom!"
"Quidditch is played on brooms, stupid," one of the boys spat, grabbing the big brown ball from Malfoy's hands. "We're just going to make a few passes with the ball..."
"No way! I'm warning you!" Hermione exclaimed again, taking a step towards them. They just looked at each other with blatant mockery. The other group of peaceful students just watched the scene intently, unmoving. "You could hurt someone!"
"Get out of the way, Granger," another boy snapped, walking past her and bumping her with his shoulder. "Get your filthy nose back in a book..."
Hermione felt her face radiating so much heat that she wouldn't have been surprised if her eyebrows were singed. She turned, furious, and faced Malfoy. He was sitting on one table with his feet up on another, glaring at Hermione with his eyes flashing and his mouth twisted into a grimace of exasperation, as if the girl was a particularly annoying fly. Hermione pointed her index finger at him.
"Malfoy, tell them to stop immediately," Hermione ordered in a clear, dry voice, still looking him in the eye. "They only obey you, and you're a Prefect, so it's your duty to stop them. I'm warning you."
Malfoy stretched his lips into a mischievous sideways grin.
"You're warning me? And what exactly are you warning me about, Mudblood?"
Hermione received his harsh words without flinching, and merely opened her mouth to insist with renewed firmness, but she didn't hear her own voice. The din of the class drowned out her words. The revelry had begun.
The rowdy students had divided into two groups and, while some were amusing themselves trying to catch the Snitch, with no qualms about climbing on tables and chairs, the others were passing the Quaffle through the air, whizzing it around the classroom. All to the soundtrack of shouting, cheering, or booing.
Hermione stared at the agitated scene in disbelief. Had they all gone mad? She looked back at Malfoy in shock. He was one of the few who remained seated, though he was whistling and shouting like the rest of them with a wide grin of malicious satisfaction. Students were shouting and jumping from table to table, enthusiastically passing the Quaffle to each other. Next to Draco was Theodore Nott, sitting at the next table, though he didn't make a sound. He was still reading his book, totally absorbed, his expression absent. Almost resigned. Hermione admired both the fact that he could concentrate on reading, and the fact that he was reading instead of fussing like his classmates. The boy's personality was definitely nothing like Malfoy's, at least in terms of sanity. Draco wasn't paying the slightest attention to his friend, and he didn't seem to care either.
"Malfoy, enough!" Hermione shouted again, rising above the voices and moving to stand in front of him. She had to crane her neck to look at him as he was sitting on the table. But the young blond ignored her blatantly, looking at his mates and cheering through her. "I'm serious, make them stop! Malfoy!"
He paid no more attention to her than Binns did to them, so Hermione was forced to take drastic action. Snorting furiously, she reached into her robes and pulled out her slender wand. Malfoy's gaze then settled on her, and she saw his features tighten warily. He stopped smiling and cheering. His grey eyes flashed.
But the situation went no further.
A loud bang, which stopped Hermione's heart for two seconds, echoed through the hectic classroom. A few people screamed. But they were no longer screams of joy. Hermione's eyes went wide as she turned around, searching for what had happened. A Hufflepuff girl sitting at one of the tables on the sidelines of the commotion was clutching her shoulder with one hand compulsively, holding back tears. Her friends were surrounding her, some distraught, others furious. They were all glaring at a nearby Slytherin boy, who was also staring at the girl, he with a disturbed expression. The shouting in the classroom had stopped. The Quaffle took a few final bounds on the ground amidst the unexpected silence, until it came to a halt a few feet away from the Hufflepuff girl.
Hermione didn't find it too difficult to guess what had happened. Nott had finally looked up from his book.
"You bastard, you nearly killed her!" shouted a Hufflepuff boy, stepping in front of his friend, pulling out his wand and pointing it in the direction of the bewildered Slytherin who was to blame for what had happened. He jumped back, regained his composure, and stood up proudly.
"It was an accident!" he exclaimed defensively, though with a faint tremor in his voice.
"If the bloody Quaffle hadn't bounced off the table you could have broken his arm, you animal!" the Hufflepuff shrieked again, and was joined by his fellow students in shouting in agreement. The Slytherin took a step back, seeing himself cornered. The other troublemakers rallied to his aid.
"It's no bloody big deal, he didn't do anything to her!" shouted another of them, pointing a contemptuous hand at the attacked girl.
"I am going to do something to you, you bastard — !"
"ENOUGH!" Hermione shouted, positioning herself between the two boys, who seemed intent on a Muggle-style fight. She pointed at the Hufflepuff boy who had spoken first. She didn't know his name. "Take your friend to the Hospital Wing and tell them what happened..."
"Don't you dare tell the truth!" shouted one of the Slytherins, taking a step forward, "or there will be reprisals! You have been warned!"
The Hufflepuff boy looked ready for a fistfight, but one look from Hermione was enough for him to grab her friend's healthy arm and escort her out of the classroom. A couple of the people who were staying out of the din also accompanied the young girl, glaring at the troublemakers. Binns didn't even raise his ghostly gaze.
Hermione turned and faced Malfoy again. He was staring at the scene motionless, his arms folded and his light eyes narrowed suspiciously. He hadn't moved a muscle. Hermione could hardly conceive of the fact that he was still sitting. He hadn't even tried to check on the poor girl.
"Malfoy, this has to stop," Hermione spat angrily. Those gray eyes focused on her. "You've had enough fun. That girl could have ended very badly!"
"Who do you think you are, ordering Draco around?" one of the blond boy's friends snapped at her, with the same expression he would have had if he had spat at her.
Hermione was beginning to tremble with pent-up anger. And despair. And Malfoy was merely glaring at her, a tiny, sly smile on his thin lips; he seemed to be enjoying her infuriation immensely. He didn't seem to give a damn about anything. Hermione's finger trembled as she held it up in warning.
"If you think I'm going to —"
A loud sound drowned out her words. The bell had just rung; the warning for the next class. Hermione felt herself being flooded with cold water. The exam. She swallowed hard and straightened to her full height. She didn't have time to fix that now. She would have to sort it out some other time.
"This isn't going to end like this, Malfoy. We'll talk about this," she warned, backtracking to her desk so she could grab her bag. The few remaining peaceful students were already heading out the door, dejected and angry. Nott soon followed, being the first of the Slytherins to leave the classroom, not waiting for Malfoy and the others. Binns was gone as well, crossing the blackboard.
Malfoy's malice-laden grin became more evident. He stepped down from the table in a graceful, sweeping motion, holding his weight in one hand on the surface and using it as a fulcrum to hop down to the floor.
"Sounds good to me," he replied, his tone sweet with venom. He stretched out a hand and picked up his bag, then slung it over one shoulder. "Start preparing your speech, we'll give you time to think about it."
That said, he looked directly at his peers, who were watching him intently, and arched a blond eyebrow arrogantly.
As if that was the signal they were waiting for, they all smiled at the same time and pounced on the girl. So suddenly that she had no time to react. One of them held her hands behind her back very tightly, while another snatched her wand, which she still held loosely in her hand, in one swift tug. He threw it at Malfoy, with a satisfied cackle. Malfoy caught it in mid-air, showing off his Seeker reflexes.
Hermione found herself, in the blink of an eye, alone, disarmed and cornered by Malfoy and his minions. She felt a powerful emptiness in her stomach.
"What are you supposed to be doing?" she screamed at the top of her voice, struggling with all her might to free herself from the boy's grip. "Give me back my wand immediately!"
"This will take away your desire to imitate St. Potter and play the heroine," Draco said in a dangerously soft voice, tossing the girl's wand into the air and catching it in one hand.
"Don't you dare touch me! Let go of me immediately!" howled the girl, trying to kick one of the boys.
"Your wish is our command, Granger," Malfoy mumbled, still half-smirking.
Then he shook his head sharply, pointing to the classroom door. His henchmen understood what he was up to. The one holding the girl roughly released her, giving her a shove that caused her to lose her balance and fall backwards to the floor. And then he followed his friends, who were already running towards the door.
"This will teach you not to stick your ugly nose where it doesn't belong," Draco's cold voice said, standing at the doorway with his arms folded as his friends crossed it. "See you around, Granger. Or maybe not..."
Before the Gryffindor even managed to sit up, Malfoy and the others slammed the door shut. Hermione staggered to her feet and stumbled to the door. She pulled at the handle, but it was hopelessly locked. Her heart pounded in her ears. Without even pausing to think, her first instinct was to pound it loudly with both fists.
"Malfoy?" she shouted, her voice an octave higher than normal. "What do you think you're doing? Open up immediately, it's not funny! Malfoy!"
"That's what you get for getting in Draco Malfoy's way!" she heard the sniggering voice of one of the boys say through the door. The rest of them laughed their heads off. They were out there. Laughing at her. It was unacceptable.
"Malfoy, that's enough! You're all grounded! Open the door at once!" She heard a fresh burst of laughter. She clenched her jaw tightly, and redoubled her attempts to bang on the door. "I really won't forgive you! Malfoy...!" She pressed her ear to the door, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She heard more clearly the mocking laughter on the other side. "Damn it..."
Hermione snorted indignantly and turned her back to the door. She looked around, breathing heavily and her heart pounding violently. The Snitch was still fluttering around the classroom, forgotten.
She felt the anguish moisten her eyes. The exam. She had to get out of there. There had to be some other way out... No, the door to the professor's office was always magically locked. And the only other way out was through the window. But Hermione wasn't stupid enough to throw herself out of the sixth floor of a huge castle without a wand. She had to try to calm down and keep a cool head if she wanted to get out of there. She had to get out of there. But reality hit her like a sledgehammer, clawing at her stomach mercilessly, filling her brain with cotton wool. They weren't going to get her out of there. She'd be late for the exam. Or worse, she wouldn't make it at all.
She felt as if she couldn't get any air into her lungs.
The minutes on the clock kept ticking.
It couldn't be happening.
"MALFOY!" Hermione shouted, shaking with frenzy, lunging for the door and pounding it again with both fists. "MALFOY, FOR GOD'S SAKE, OPEN IT! MALFOY, I HAVE AN EXAM...!"
"Really?" she heard Draco's arrogant voice ask earnestly from behind the door. "Oh, well, in that case..."
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. Gasping, she stopped pounding on the door, and put her ear to the surface. She heard someone fiddling with the handle and smiled, relieved and incredulous. Malfoy, against all odds, seemed to have come to his senses.
But the sound of the handle suddenly stopped.
"Oh, what a pity!" Draco's voice spoke again, from outside. "I think… Yeah, I think that's it… I don't think I feel like opening it up for you." He let out a laugh. "Ciao, Granger."
The girl thought her face would inevitably explode from the blood pressure she felt rising in her face. Her fingers twitched on the surface of the door.
"MALFOY, YOU BLOODY DEMON, OPEN THE DOOR!" Hermione shouted, completely mad, pounding on the door again. She heard a handful of footsteps, which indicated that Malfoy and the others were moving away. "COME BACK HERE! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, MALFOY! DO YOU HEAR ME? MALFOY!"
"What's going on here?" asked a familiar stammering voice from the other side of the door. "What's all this commotion?"
"MR. FILCH!" Hermione shouted, almost dizzy with relief, banging on the door with less desperation. Trying now to get his attention. "MR. FILCH, GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
The caretaker then opened the door, peering inside. He looked at her, furious, his eyes wide and his cheeks quivering. The man had a mop and bucket in his hands, a sign that he planned to clean the classroom after class was over.
"What the — ? You're destroying this classroom again? You just love tormenting me, don't you, you little devils?" he spat, his voice clipped. Mrs. Norris was at his feet, mewling menacingly as if seconding her master's words. Filch's bulging eyes, surrounded by bags, then drifted to the ceiling of the classroom. "Eh? What... what's this Snitch... doing here?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Filch!" Hermione managed to howl apologetically, slipping past the caretaker into the door frame. She hurried out of the classroom and ran down the corridor. "I'll explain!"
She ran as fast as she could, almost leaving a trail in her wake through the corridors and, miraculously, was only a few minutes late for the exam. But the exam had already begun. She opened the door and glared at her stern Professor Vector, begging to be let in. She glared at her.
"You can come in today," the inflexible professor told her. Intercepting her in the central aisle of the classroom before she could take her seat. All the other students were already seated. "But don't let it happen again, understood?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Professor," said the young girl, blushing all over, and almost out of breath from the rush. She felt a prick in her side, piercing her with every breath. The gaze of all her classmates fixed on her brought tears to her eyes in embarrassment.
As she sat at her desk, and pulled out ink and a quill with trembling fingers, Hermione swore to herself that she would get revenge on Draco Malfoy if it was the last thing she ever did.
And, to top it all off, that delinquent had kept her wand.