Thursday morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, the nutrient potion Snape had concocted for him magically appearing on his plate as soon as he took his seat, as it had every morning this week. He sighed, unstoppered the vial, eyed Snape, who was grimly watching him from the head table, and with an exaggerated toasting motion, threw it back, smacking his lips, a cheeky smile covering the inner grimace he felt at the vile taste. Snape scowled at him briefly, but also nodded with the barest inclination of his head. Harry laughed to himself and turned back to his friends. Hermione was frowning slightly, and Ron was chuckling silently.
"You shouldn't wind him up, Harry," Hermione said disapprovingly, "he's only looking after your health properly."
"Aw, don't start, Hermione," Ron groaned, "it's too early!"
He pulled a platter of sausages toward himself, taking a large bite of one before loading several more onto his plate, then shoving the platter toward Harry.
"'Sides," he continued after washing it down with an enormous swallow of pumpkin juice, "Harry's like his kid now, innit, he can have a jab at the old git every now and then, for all of us."
He chuckled at his own joke and continued loading his plate with eggs, toast, and bacon, shoving each serving dish toward Harry as he did.
"I'm not his kid, Ron," Harry said, filling his own plate, "and he's certainly not my dad."
"No, but he's not got it out for you anymore, does he?" Ron said, "he hasn't given you detention yet, has he?"
"Yet's the keyword there, Ron" Harry said, "just because he's my guardian doesn't mean he won't."
"Well, you can't deny he's looking after you properly," Hermione said, "you said yourself your new glasses make all the difference, and you wouldn't have them if he hadn't taken you to Madam Pomfrey and made her give you a complete going over."
"Yeah," Harry said.
"See, so not so bad after all, right?" Ron said apologetically to Harry.
Harry knew Ron still felt bad about blurting out his situation with Snape, but Harry was over it. He wished everyone else would just get over it, although he couldn't say he was surprised people were treating him differently. Word had spread, and it seemed the whole school now knew Snape was his guardian. Dean and Seamus seemed to feel sorry for him, as did some of the others, but it was more like pity, which annoyed Harry, along with the whispering. Others seemed wary of him, as if they were unsure if he'd tattle or something. Harry just rolled his eyes at that thought. As if! The only snitching he was even remotely interested in was catching the winged ones on the pitch. The reaction that bothered him most though, was Neville, who seemed to be very nervous around Harry now. Harry had tried reassuring him, but Neville, while apologetic, had told Harry that just the thought of Harry sharing quarters all summer with Snape gave him nightmares. Harry didn't know what to say to that, except to reassure him that Snape had never actually tortured him, which didn't seem to reassure him at all. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table, spotting Draco sitting alone at the end, defiantly eating his breakfast as though nothing was wrong. It was ironic, Harry thought, that the Slytherins, while not in the least bit friendlier to him, were at least not actively bullying him, unlike how they were treating their own housemate. Draco had, Harry knew, been subjected to more than one incident this past week, and was the target of Parkinson's vicious gossip. Harry wondered where Bulstrode was. She usually sat with Draco, glaring down anyone who looked like they meant him harm, and Harry was glad he had at least one ally in his house.
He himself was torn over the subject of Draco. He wanted to show him some solidarity, but worried about how Draco would take it. Would he welcome the gesture, or would it anger him? Harry didn't know; he didn't want to make it worse for him. He wished he had the opportunity to talk to him, admitting to himself he kind of missed their talks and walks of the summer. He was jostled out of his thoughts by Hermione urging him to finish up his breakfast so they could get to Potions.
Immediately, Ron told her to stop nagging, they had plenty of time.
"Well, it won't do for Harry especially to be late, would it?" Hermione said with annoyance.
"Snape hasn't even left yet!" Ron countered, and Harry tuned out their bickering, noticing Millicent Bulstrode had now joined Draco, and was quickly eating her breakfast. Harry turned back to his friends, who were glaring belligerently across the table at each other.
"C'mon you guys," he sighed as the bell rang, signalling the end of breakfast. They gathered their book bags and began the trek down to the dungeons for Potions.
*
Draco had been late to breakfast all week. Monday had started out with his school texts hidden all over the castle. He'd just found his Potions text yesterday. Monday he had discovered that all of his school uniforms had been dunked in the Black Lake. Tuesday and Wednesday he had overslept because his bedside clock had been silenced and his wand, which he always spelled to wake him, had been placed in the common room. Draco was absolutely never careless with his wand. He'd missed breakfast both days, but Millie had passed him a bacon buttie, along with a conjured flask of hot, black tea.
Today he was actually on time, even though he had waited in the common room so that he could walk with Millie to the Great Hall, but she'd sent one of the new firsties down to tell him to go ahead without her.
He sat at the end of the table, feeling a bit sorry for himself even while he realised just how hypocritical he was being. He'd done the same type of things to other Slytherins whose fortunes had changed. It was just the way things were in their house. To all the outside world, they were a united front. Inside the dorms there was so much in-fighting, cruelty, and jockeying for position. The pecking order was fluid, the feuds started were all carved in stone.
Draco looked down the table, using the excuse that he needed pumpkin juice to observe his housemates. Parkinson was holding court, her bosom friends preened next to her. Both Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis had taken to speaking about blood traitors in his hearing. Next to them was Vince who was shovelling his food into his maw as if he hadn't eaten the entire summer. Greg was absent, which was very unusual. Goyle wasn't one to miss meals.
Zabini and Nott sat amidst the older students, their heads together. Draco wondered what was up with that. Nott kept his own counsel, usually spending his free time in the Library and his dorm time studying. He was almost as big a swot as Granger.
Draco pushed his food around a bit more, making swirling patterns in the porridge that had stiffened as it grew cold. He finally gave up pretending that he was eating, and he rose. He said to Millie, who had finally arrived and was wolfing down a piece of toast, "Let's go."
He strode to the doorway that stood open just as his Aunt passed by with Big Tony.
He almost missed the mutt.
Soon, he found himself in front of the Potions classroom. He entered, sitting at his usual bench. It was a practical day and so Draco set out his brewing equipment, making sure that everything was in the precise layout that he'd learned from Severus as a child playing at potioneering.
The class slowly filled up, Parkinson assumed her usual spot behind Draco, and Millie joined him at the table. "Sorry about breakfast. I got my period."
"Eurgh! Millie, don't tell me that!" Draco said, feeling his face heat with his blush.
"Why?" she asked, scowling. "There's nothing shameful about it. Mummy and Mum both talk about theirs all the time."
Snape had come up behind them so silently that neither of them heard his footfall. He said, "Miss Bulstrode, please refrain from personal chit chat in the classroom."
Draco ducked his head, but snuck a quick peek at him. Snape had two bright spots of colour on his usually sallow cheeks. Millie said, "Yes, Sir."
As Snape strode away, Parkinson hissed, "Why can't you show some class Bulstrode? Just because your mum is a sapphic blood traitor, it doesn't mean you have to follow in her footsteps."
Millie tensed, her foot knocking Draco's as she did. She started to stand, but Draco pulled her back down. "Don't. She's not worth it."
"No one talks about my mums." Millie said to him and then turned her head towards Parkinson. "Watch yourself, Pansy."
Snape had assumed his position at the head of the class, his eyes narrowed at his Slytherins before he waved his wand at the chalkboard, revealing the instructions for the potions they were brewing that day.
Draco let his attention wander as Snape gave a small lecture on the process. Potter, who was across the aisle from him, gave him a look of commiseration and then turned his attention back to Snape.
*
Snape opened the door to the Teachers Lounge, peering inside. It was empty, so he entered, sinking into a chair with a sigh of relief, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. He had an hour before afternoon classes with the upper years began, and as they were less prone to accidents, he could probably leave them for a few moments to check the progress of the Wolfsbane Potion he was nearly finished brewing. He opened his eyes, summoning a cup of tea from the large self-brewing pot kept on the table under the windows. He contemplated the behaviour of his House charges, the third years in particular, and their treatment of Draco Malfoy. On one hand, a tiny part of him felt that the boy was only getting a dose of his own medicine for how he'd treated others, Potter in particular. He was well aware, however, how hypocritical that was, since he himself was guilty of the same for his own past treatment of Potter. It was a hard realisation that he himself was no better than these children, a harsh reflection on his own character, so how could he blame them when he'd set no better example himself? The irony here was that it wasn't even a question of blood loyalty here, both he and his Slytherins were guilty of blaming a son for the sins of the father. Harry Potter was no more to blame for James Potter's bullying of Snape than Draco Malfoy was for Lucius Malfoy's crimes. His Slytherins actions were motivated by the fear that Lucius would betray their own parents. Snape didn't even have that excuse.
He sighed and sipped his tea, his thoughts turning to Potter Junior. The incongruity of the whole situation was like some madman's idea of dark humour. Who would ever have thought he would be raising the child of his enemy? The absurdness of it all baffled him. He sat sipping his tea trying to reconcile it all in his head, when the door opened and Ted Tonks entered.
Ted had given Snape enough time to settle into his customary seat, a scruffy, leather, tufted chair that sat next to the fireplace. The potions professor had picked up a book as Ted entered, obviously trying to look like he was reading, with the book splayed across his knees. His usual scowl lines were eased only a little. Ted fixed a cup of tea for himself, making sure to make enough noise that Snape had to acknowledge his presence in the room.
Ted remembered the tiny boy that this man had been. Small, weedy, with an air of neglect that wasn't common in his house, the boy had been a subject of pity more than once amongst the Ravenclaws of Ted's year. It was good to see he had come into his own, even if the lines on his face and the tension in his bearing spoke of the painful trials that had bought that gravitas. Ted had spoken to Snape's head of house, that old toady, more than once on behalf of the boy when the cruel tricks of both the Potter gang and the boy's own house had caused him both psychological and physical injury. Ted had always regretted that he'd only had one year as prefect with the boy, and all the other victims of bullying visited by the misfortune of not being a pureblood prat that year, before Andy and he had run off to start their own life.
It was ironic that he now had to deal with his nephew's bullying problems. Though he was sure young Malfoy had most certainly been a perpetrator in the years before. Ted had no illusions about how Draco had behaved whilst under the care of his father. Lucius Malfoy had always been the worst type of bigoted pureblood. It had heartened him that the Potter boy had taken up with him over the summer. It had been too much to hope that Draco would continue his association once school began. Potter was not cut from the same arrogant cloth as his father, and Draco could learn much about compassion from him.
Ted took a place by the large window overlooking the grounds, leaning against the sill as he sipped his tea. The silence of the room was invaded by the sounds of students hurrying to class. Ted relaxed as Andy entered the room, where she made a beeline for the tea pot too. After she fixed hers to perfection, one sugar, a dollop of milk, they waited patiently until Snape lifted his eyes from his book, giving up the illusion that he had been absorbed in it. He marked his spot with a small scrap of parchment and said with an arid sigh, "How can I help you, professor, Mrs Tonks?"
Ted moved from the window, taking a seat in a squishy, overstuffed chintz seat across from the potions master, Andromeda taking the more comfortable ottoman. He had noted earlier that week that the chair he sat in needed new springs and probably more horsehair cloth to anchor them to. He'd take it down to the shop, even though upholstery wasn't what he normally did, he knew enough to fix the chair more permanently than a hastily cast spell could. He took another sip of his cooling tea and said, "My nephew is having some trouble with his dorm mates. As his head of house I thought I should talk to you about what Andy and I can do to help him."
Snape set his book aside, cast a warming charm over his tea and said, "Indeed. This has not gone unnoticed, I assure you, and, frankly, was not completely unexpected. Slytherins in general are a self-preserving lot, and Lucius Malfoy's arrest has made Draco's housemates fear the possibility of their own parents being thrown under the bus, as it were, in an attempt by Lucius to lessen his own consequences. Add to that..." he paused, considering his words, then deciding to simply be blunt, "the fact that you, his new guardian, are Muggleborn, and regretfully, bullying comes as no surprise. I have addressed my House on this subject in general terms, without reference to Draco in particular, however, it seems my little snakes require the point to be driven home in no uncertain terms. Has Draco spoken to either of you?"
Andy said with a small grimace, "You know he won't speak with us, Severus. We are the enemy as far as he's concerned."
"I don't think talking to anyone is going to do much, in any case."
Ted picked up Andy's hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He said, "Talking never did any good when we were in school, and I have no faith that it will work now. I– we were hoping that you could convince the Potter boy to… they were getting along so well this summer, and the boy's nothing like…well, he seems a level-headed, amiable sort…"
Snape sighed. He had had a feeling this might be coming.
"You realise Potter is Gryffindor, and although he and Draco seemed to have come to an accord over the summer, I suspect that may have been driven by need, rather than want or preference. Potter and your nephew have a history of discord and mutual loathing. Whether all is truly forgiven between them, or the summer was simply the result of two bored teenage boys with nothing better to do, I cannot say. I also cannot say I have observed them exchange a single word since flooing to London to catch the train."
"I suppose there's nothing we can do to help him then, Professor." Andy said tartly as she stood. "I expected so, I had just hoped, given your history, that you might have some ideas."
Snape glowered at her, his beetle black eyes sparking with emotion, even as his face remained impassive.
"Given my history, Andromeda?" Snape said evenly, "to what are you referring?"
Ted stepped between his wife and Snape. "I think we've strayed from the point here, what can we do to make Draco's life easier. Neither of us condone bullying, and I'm sure Andy didn't mean to dredge up ancient history about our school days. You can admit that that old fraud, Slughorn, wasn't the best at dealing with conflict amongst the students."
Ted wanted to wince as he spoke. It wouldn't do to alienate Snape, and he had cautioned Andy against bringing up Severus' childhood woes. He was obviously a proud man who didn't want to dwell on painful childhood issues.
Snape remained seated, eyeing the couple up. Andromeda had never displayed the maniacal tendencies of her shrew of a sister, Bellatrix, who bullied one and all without impunity, however, she was also not the gentle, reticent soul her younger sister Narcissa was. Obviously her husband was the peacemaker of the couple; Snape had not missed the quelling look he shot her way. He seemed to have a genuine concern for his nephew's well being, whereas Snape suspected Andromeda's concern was at least partially borne out of duty to her sister. She and Narcissa had once been close, he knew, before Bella had bullied Narcissa into a life Andromeda had attempted to sway her from. That Andromeda loathed Lucius wasn't exactly a secret, and Snape knew that although Narcissa rarely mentioned Andromeda, she mourned the loss of their relationship. The combination of Bella, Lucius, and her parents, had been an influence too strong for Narcissa to break away from.
He let out another sigh, cleared his throat, and drew himself up to standing. "Understand that I cannot, nor will I, force Potter to befriend Draco. However, I may be able to foster interaction between them that will not encourage further derision from either of their housemates."
"Thank you, Severus." Andy said. "I appreciate any effort you might make on my nephew's behalf. If you'll excuse me now,I have a sitting for which I need to prepare."
Snape inclined his head. "Andromeda."
He waited for her to exit and then swept from the room with a flourish of robes.
Ted let himself fall to the seat, creaky springs whining as he did. He ran his hand over his face as a weak huff of laughter escaped him. "Well, that could have gone better."
*
After lunch, Harry and Ron bid Hermione goodbye and headed outside to Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins.
"Only Hermione would take a free period and then spend it in the bloody library," Ron muttered as they set out.
"You say the same thing every time," Harry observed, "you didn't expect her to actually relax, did you? It's Hermione, Ron. How can she keep telling us we're wrong about everything if she doesn't study ahead?"
While it may have been a bit harsh, he kept his tone light, joking, and Ron snickered. Truth was though, Harry was getting a bit weary of Hermione's constant whispering to him with things she thought he didn't understand in Arithmancy, particularly without Ron there to divert her. Harry now knew how Neville must feel in Potions, and Snape's annoyance with her was becoming all too clear. Harry loved Hermione, she was a good friend, but she could also be relentless, and it was becoming tiresome. Especially because, to his own surprise, Arithmancy wasn't as difficult as he'd thought it would be. It wasn't easy, and it took some study and effort, but he was doing alright so far. Draco was in that class too, and Harry had contemplated maybe daring to sit with him instead of Hermione one day, but again, he didn't know how Draco would take that, or if it would make things worse for him. Besides, Millicent Bulstrode usually sat with Draco, glaring down anybody who dared approach, and Harry wasn't sure his Gryffindor bravery extended to her. She was intimidating, make no mistake, but...Harry found that kind of intriguing, like he did with Ginny. He was pondering how she'd really come out of her shell this year, when his thoughts were interrupted by the shrill laughter of Parkinson and her cronies, who were a bit behind them.
"So, Malfoy, what's it like seeing your mum behind bars?" Parkinson said as her hangers on giggled beside her.
Ron turned his head at the comment, catching sight of Malfoy. The Slytherin boy was furious, his face red, his hands clenched. Ron shrugged. The git had said worse about Ron's Mum and Dad. It was about time he had some payback.
Harry walked stiffly beside him. He muttered to himself, "Why can't they just leave him alone?"
Ron pretended not to hear. He'd been crowing a bit about Malfoy's set down this week. It made him feel like a berk, when Harry, of all people, could feel some sympathy for the Slytherin.
"I'll bet you can't wait to see what the Dementors have done to Daddy Dearest." Pansy shrieked. "Or maybe Daddy is taking it up the arse to keep them away. I always said Malfoy's dad was too pretty."
Ron glared over his shoulder at the girl. That was a low blow, no matter who the toxic slag was saying it about.
"What are you looking at, Weasel?" She shouted, "It was your dad that put Malfoy in this mess to begin with."
"Shut it, Parkinson." Draco said tightly.
"Oh, where's your dyke girlfriend, Malfoy?' Pansy said as she shoved into him, "It must sting to have to rely on a dirty half blood's good will."
Harry stopped and swung around, his jaw muscles clenched as he stared at the girl. Ron let his wand slide into the palm of his hand. If she made one false move at his best friend…
He moved to Harry's side, "Leave off, Parkinson. We get it."
Ron glanced towards Malfoy, surprised to see the prat's eyes glistening and red, as if he was going to cry. Ron willed him not to. He knew that showing weakness to her type would doom him to a life of misery throughout the school.
Parkinson gave Ron the two-fingered salute and then said, "Well, maybe it isn't Daddy Dearest on his knees. Maybe Mumsy is on hers sucking some Auror…"
Before he could stop himself, his wand came up and he slashed it through the air, grateful that Charlie had shown him how they silenced fractious egg-laden dragons while they were in Egypt. "Tacitus!"
Time stood still for a moment, as everybody stopped, open mouthed in astonishment.
"Ron," Harry, aghast, breathed. "Wh...what have you done?"
Parkinson, once she recovered from her shock, screwed her face up to scream, but no sound came out. She tried again, but nothing. At once her friends, Greengrass and Davis, began shrieking, everybody else turned toward Ron, who lowered his wand, and stood belligerently glaring back.
"Oh, yer in the shit now, Ron," Seamus said, "wait til Snape hears what you've done to one of his snakes."
Harry became aware of the Slytherins drawing closer, closing ranks , until it was Gryffindors on one side and Slytherins on the other, Draco in between.
"You drew your wand on a Slytherin, Weasley," Crabbe shouted, "a girl! We aren't going to forget that!"
Harry looked at Ron, still belligerent and glaring, then at his fellow Gryffindors, who seemed unsure of what to do.
Harry looked at Parkinson, red faced and teary, silently still trying to scream. "What happened to you to make you so foul and nasty, Parkinson? Is your home life perfect? Are your parents?"
He looked at Ron and said, "She deserves what she got, but better do the countercurse, Ron. You're in enough trouble once McGonagall and Snape hear about this."
Ron cast, "Finite!'
Parkinson was still moving her mouth, but no sound came out. Ron cast again, putting all of his intent behind undoing the spell.
Nothing.
Davis began running back to the castle just as Hagrid strode up. "What do we 'ave 'ere? Yeh were supposed to be in class by now."
The half giant loomed over them, his beaming smile slowly falling as he saw the raised wands. "What's 'appenin' 'ere?"
Ron couldn't meet Hagrid's eyes as he said, "I cursed Parkinson because she was being nasty to… about something."
Hagrid's bushy eyebrows drew down, nearly covering his eyes. "Well, I can't say that I'm pleased, young Ronald. Just undo the spell, and we'll deal with this after class."
"I tried to." Ron's voice was shaking.
"Well, I've never 'eard of a plain Silencio not being cancelled wi' that." Hagrid said.
Her arm around Parkinson's shoulders protectively, Greengrass spoke, "He didn't cast that. He used another spell!"
"Weasley,what did yeh use?" Hagrid asked, putting his hand on Ron's shoulder.
"Tacitus. My brother, Charlie taught it to me this summer. He said they use it on dragons." Ron answered. Several of the Slytherin boys began laughing. Panic growing in his own voice, Ron volunteered, "He didn't tell me the counter."
"Well, that's because there isn't one, innit? It's not t'be used on 'umans neither. It's not permanent, you'll just have to wait for it to wear off," Hagrid said. "Miss Greengrass, take yer friend to Madam Pomfrey. The rest of you, come with me."
Everybody followed Hagrid down to where class was held, but Ron hung back with Harry, who was hanging back for Draco, who brought up the rear.
"Nice going, Ron," Harry told him, "a spell without a counter. She deserved it, and it can only be a bonus for all of us to have her shut up for a while, but...you know I can't ask Snape..."
"I know, Harry," Ron said, "but...bloody hell, it'll be worth it! Even be worth Hermione giving me hell when she hears, especially after I tell her what that cow said."
Harry was aware of Draco listening to them from behind, he wasn't sure Ron was, but then Draco surprised them both by quietly uttering, "Thank you."
Harry and Ron looked at each other, then back at Malfoy, who'd stopped and looked both sheepish and defiant at once. "Thank you, Weasley, for defending my parent's honour. I...well...thank you."
Harry smiled at Draco, knowing what it took for him to say that to Ron. Before Ron could reply, movement off in the bushes caught Harry's eye, and he watched the enormous black dog from the summer emerge from the tangle of brush, its snout raised, nose sniffing the air. It looked even more menacing now, it's coat all shaggy and rough, it's huge teeth visible, it's massive head turning to and fro with whatever scent it had caught. Harry hoped it wasn't him.
"D-Draco," he whispered frantically, "there it is again!"
"Wha..." the other boy said, turning to look, his eyes widening when he saw it. He whispered, taking a step closer,"Is...did it get bigger?" .
"Bloody hell," Ron said. "If we all see the Grim, does that mean we're all going to die?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Weasel." Malfoy said with that little irritating pinched off, stick up his arse voice. "It's not a Grim. It's obviously some other creature. Maybe a Cerberus whelp."
"Don't they have three heads?" Ron asked, panic making his voice crack. "Didn't Fluffy have three heads, Harry?"
"Who or what is Fluffy?" Malfoy demanded.
"Never mind, let's just get out of here." Ron said, grabbing Harry's jumper and pulling. "Let's just go!"
Harry extricated himself from Ron's grip, nearly tripping as he coughed. Ron had grabbed his tie when he'd grabbed his jumper, and Harry stopped to gag and clear his throat.
Malfoy began pounding him on the back, saying, "Nice going, Weasley. If the Grim doesn't get him, he's got you, you buffoon." He paused in his whaling of Harry's back to glance at the bushes. "Calm down. It's gone."
Harry finally caught his breath, pushed Malfoy off, and stood red-faced, glaring back and forth between the ginger boy and the blonde.
"Are you two trying to kill me?" he demanded sourly, adjusting his glasses.
"Sorry, Harry," Ron said, "only Grim\s, they're death omens!"
"It's not a Grim! Draco crowed, "do you see a graveyard anywhere, Weasley? Are we all dead? It's either a Barghest or a stray from Hogsmeade! I already told Potty that the last time we saw it!"
"You've seen it before?" Ron asked Harry.
"This summer," Harry said, "when we were coming back from the pitch. We'd better get to class. C'mon."
Harry and Ron started off back down the hill toward the class, when Ron stopped after a few steps, turned around. To Harry's surprise, he shouted back to Draco, "C'mon, Malfoy! You're holding us up, and I'm already in enough trouble! Let's go!"
Harry broke into a wide smile at Ron's words, and at Draco's own surprised face.
"C'mon, Draco, he's right. We're already late enough. Hagrid's our friend, but he's still a teacher now. We can't expect special treatment."
"Erm...right," Draco said, a pleased expression coming over him, as he caught them up, then ran past them shouting, "last one there's a flobberworm!"
"You are anyway, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, taking off after him, and all three boys raced to join the class.
*
"He did what?" Hermione screeched as they sat down to supper in the Great Hall. She'd asked where Ron was, and Harry had just finished telling her what happened on the way to Magical Creatures class.
"C'mon, Hermione!" Harry said, "what Parkinson said was vile, really vile. Nobody should say things like she said! He was defending Malfoy's mum."
"But, Harry, pulling his wand on another student..." she began, but he cut her off.
"She wasn't hurt! He just shut her up, and good on him!"
"Harry," she said, "You can't possibly be condoning what he did! No matter what she said, cursing another student is an expellable offence! A Slytherin will get Snape involved and what if he insists?! Ron will be kicked out!"
"He wouldn't do that," Harry said with a confidence he didn't one hundred percent feel, "she wasn't hurt, although I'm sure Parkinson thinks so, not being able to run her mouth."
"Harry!" Hermone chastised.
They turned their attention to their plates, and Harry mulled over the afternoon. Hagrid, while Harry had been able to tell, was annoyed, but only gave them a warning about being late, and not to let it happen again. The rest of the class, other than a few dirty looks from Crabbe, had gone without incident. As they'd trudged back up to the castle, Ron had been taken with a sense of doom, and sure enough, as they entered the castle, a smug Filch had been waiting with a message from McGonagall telling Ron to report to her office immediately after classes for a meeting with her and Snape. Ron and Harry had trudged off to Charms, Ron asking Harry to not say anything to Hermione until after classes because he didn't want her nagging him through the rest of the day. Harry agreed, and kept quiet about it, although there was still plenty of whispering amongst the others. Harry noticed Draco wasn't present, and joined the class about halfway through. Harry didn't get the chance to ask where he'd been, but as they were leaving class, Harry, Hermione, and Draco for Arithmancy, Harry heard Draco mutter to Ron as they parted, "Cheers, Weasel."
Harry was still confused as to what that meant. He was drawn out of his pondering by Ron's arrival at the table.
"Blimey, I'm starving!" he announced, plopping down, pulling the closest platters toward himself and loading his plate.
"Well?" Hermione said pointedly.
"He's still here, Hermione," Harry pointed out. She threw him a fierce frown, and he laughed at her.
Ron swallowed his mouthful, said, "'See you told her," took another bite then added, "Detention. Two days worth,starting tomorrow..."
"But that's our first Hogsmeade weekend!" Hermione said, "I thought we could...oh, that's just not fair!"
"Better than being expelled," Harry said snidely. He heaved a silent sigh of relief, however.
"Well, I'd rather spend the weekend with you lot in Hogsmeade, sure," Ron said, "but the good news is that Parkinson won't be going either. I think Snape was more pissed at her than he was me, honestly."
"What's the detention?" Harry asked.
"Scrubbing cauldrons for Snape, polishing trophies for McGonagall," Ron shrugged , "no magic of course. You should have seen Parkinson's face at that! " he laughed, "she couldn't shriek about it out loud, but she tried til she was red in the face!"
They finished with supper, Hermione chiding Ron, who cheerfully ignored her the whole time, and left back to the Tower after. On the way out of the hall, fighting their way through the usual traffic jam, Harry saw Ron nod at Draco, and resolved to ask about it later. For now, Hermone was herding them off to homework.