Chapter 3

Draco Malfoy was not in class the next morning. Hermione took it as a personal affront. She was just positive that he was skipping lessons to show her up. Well, if he thought himself somehow immune to the rules of Hogwarts just because he'd threatened and scared her last night, Malfoy was in for a rude awakening.

After Professor Binns finished passing around the syllabus for the year and dismissed class, Hermione quickly made her way to the dungeons, fully intending to give him as long and painful a lecture as possible. Yet as she made her way through the dark corridor, she felt a malevolent presence glaring at her from ahead. Attempting to quietly continue on, Hermione kept her head down and her eyes trained on the floor. Her tactics, unfortunately, did not succeed.

"And what's a Gryffindor tramp like you doing all the way down in the dungeons?" a grisly, wheedling voice asked. Hermione looked up to see the man she recognised as Amycus Carrow, Hogwarts' newest Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Shuddering, she remembered hearing rumours of the man from first years who had already sat through one of his lessons. He was undeniably there to implement Voldemort's policies. Knowing he would look for any excuse whatsoever to punish her, Hermione attempted to remain polite.

"Professor, I don't believe we've met. I'm Hermione Granger, the Head Girl. I was actually heading to the Slytherin dormitory to check on Draco Malfoy. He wasn't in class this morning, and Ms. Pomfrey hadn't seen him either. As Head Girl, it's my responsibility to make sure Mr. Malfoy isn't skipping instruction without reason," she responded primly.

"Oh, I've heard of you!" Amycus chuckled darkly. "You're Potter's little lap-dog, aren't you, Mud-slut?" Breathing in deeply, Hermione forced herself to remain silent.

"But even Potter and his blood traitor friend couldn't sully themselves with your filthy presence, could they, Miss Granger? They left you here and ran like the pathetic cowards they are." In an attempt at restraint, Hermione dug her nails deeply into her forearms, clutching at them until they bled. Focus on the pain. Use logic, Hermione. You're not going to punch your professor, even if he's a colossal dick. Amycus looked down to her arms, noticing the small cuts where blood was welling up.

"You'd dare expose your dirty blood to me, you little bitch? 50 points from Gryffindor, and I better not see you anywhere near Slytherin again. Can't have the school's best and brightest exposed to such scum, can we, Mudblood?" Deep down, Hermione knew that no good would come out of arguing. She knew it would only end out making her more miserable and that she would probably regret it later. That didn't stop her.

"That's rich coming from you, you inbred, ass-kissing, ignorant bastard! I'm likely twice as intelligent as you and your sister combined, and yet you still call me Mudblood and claim to be somehow superior. As if I'm somehow less than you. As if I'm subhuman. You know who's subhuman? Voldemort. Have you seen-" Hermione was cut off by a swift punch to the gut. It burned.

"Naughty, naughty, Mud-slut," Amycus crooned in a sing-song voice. Hermione felt her stomach turn. She wanted to run. But she was trapped and Amycus showed no signs of relenting in his slow, measured steps toward her.

"It's unbelievable, you using his name like that; you must know that you'll be punished, right?" Hermione continued backing up for every pace he took.

"Obviously, we can't have anyone so disrespectful serving as Head Girl. Your duties are henceforth suspended; Hogwarts will have to find someone more suitable for the position. Pansy Parkinson, perhaps? I hear she's the model pureblood lady," Amycus mused, delighted.

"Professor Carrow, please, I meant no harm," Hermione stuttered, more concerned with her safety at the moment than trying to salvage her position. She tightly gripped her wand, ready to shoot out a rather dark curse if he made any sudden moves. In the first stroke of luck she'd had all day, however, the ogre of a man seemed to relent.

"I doubt that, Miss Granger, but we'll see to it that you learn your lesson. Detention. My office in two days." And then Amycus Carrow swept away, leaving a terrified, humiliated, and enraged Hermione Granger backed against the mossy dungeon wall.

...

Draco Malfoy woke with a start. Something's wrong. He just knew it. Barely taking the time to pull on a robe, he sprinted out of his room through the corridor, nearly knocking over a smirking Professor Carrow on the way.

"In a rush, Mr. Malfoy?" asked the new DADA professor. Draco reluctantly stopped and nodded.

"Well, you mustn't worry. I just stopped Potter's Mudblood from coming down to berate you. Was able to provoke her and everything; she's no longer Head Girl, and she'll be serving detention with me soon," Amycus smiled proudly. Draco felt his heart drop. He held back a foreign urge to back Carrow against the wall at wand-point and demand to know if Granger was alright. Instead, he felt himself nod again and slowly continue on his way, wary of Carrow's eyes following him down the hall.

He could smell her before he reached her. Granger's scent was divine, and it was ten times stronger in person than it was on that flimsy cardigan. How had he not noticed before? Draco was reluctant to round the corner. He was fairly certain that he was the last person she wanted to see, and he could sense that she was already upset. Nevertheless, Draco simply needed to comfort her or at least try.

Nervously, he combed through his hair, cast a quick breath-freshening charm, and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robes in an attempt to look casual. Gulping deeply in anticipation, Draco strode into Granger's sight.

...

Of all the people to happen upon this particular morning, the last Hermione wanted to see was Draco Malfoy. After Professor Carrow had left, she'd barely moved from the spot, only shifting slightly to huddle up into a ball in the dank corner of the corridor.

"What do you want, Malfoy? I was already stripped of my position this morning, so you've won. Please, just leave." Malfoy cleared his throat awkwardly, then began to crouch down beside her. Alarmed, Hermione tried to scoot away, but found herself too tired to make much of an attempt.

"Carrow didn't take away your Head Girl privileges because of me, Granger. I had nothing to do with that," he started in a surprisingly kind tone. Hermione looked up, expecting a crude Mudblood joke any minute. Oddly enough, none came.

"But clearly that's not all that's got you upset. What happened?" he pushed. Hermione certainly wasn't about to open up.

"Obviously you're only asking so you can tease me about it later, Malfoy, or even replicate it yourself," she spat. Draco visually recoiled. "Oh, please just drop the act and go find someone worthy of your time," Hermione demanded sarcastically.

"What if I told you, Granger, that I'd had a realisation?" he asked smoothly.

"Then I'd tell you that you're full of shit." He gave out a short chuckle.

"I guess I'll have to show you otherwise," Draco whispered, pressing his lips lightly against hers in a perfect, innocent kiss. Not stopping to consider her own reaction, Hermione closed her eyes and sighed softly as he gently ran his fingers across her collarbone in what she could almost picture was a fond touch. And then, as quickly as he'd came, Draco Malfoy disappeared.

Hermione couldn't see it, but he smiled as he heard her getting up and walking in the other direction, glad he had at least succeeded in taking her mind off Professor Carrow.

...

When Hermione reached the Gryffindor common room, she was immediately bombarded by a flurry of underclassmen, all concerned about the Carrows and looking to the Head Girl for leadership. Hermione uncomfortably explained how she had been stripped of her position. The entire room fell open-mouthed. Finally, Neville Longbottom spoke up.

"That's unbelievable, Hermione. Everyone here knows you deserve to be Head Girl," he offered.

"It's fine, Neville," she responded, even through it really wasn't. "At least no one's been hurt." The yet went unspoken.

"No, Hermione, it's not okay," Neville spoke again, this time in a louder voice. "We shouldn't have to take this, but I think we all know this year is going to be hell. The Carrows are out to get us; that's a fact. I say we fight back. Clearly I'm not the most qualified teacher," he said, giving a pointed look toward Hermione, "but I reckon it's high time we restart Dumbledore's Army." A cheer went up from the crowd and suddenly the whole room was roaring in support.

Hermione linked arms with Neville and Ginny. Maybe they could weather through this year after all.