Traitor: A Draco Malfoy Story

twelve

I hurried through the corridors after my reading of the very brief overviews and cheatsheets that Dumbledore had given me.

I had, of course, gotten lost along the way and embarrassingly had to ask a second-year in which direction I might find the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He looked terrified when I stopped him, though I didn't know if it was because I was a fifth-year or because I was, well, me.

Nevertheless, I arrived at the class only a few moments late, enough for me to see Professor Umbridge, all decked out in her awful shade of pink, point her wand and a beautiful paper bird and set it aflame, the scraps floating from the sky like snow. Her eyes slowly slid to me, and she chirped in her high, calm voice, "I see punctuality is another thing lacking at this school."

"I'm sorry, professor, I got lost."

"How does a fifth-year student get lost, silly girl?" she giggled and looked around the room as if she were waiting for the other students to share in the joke. The room remained dead silent.

"I'm new."

"I can most certainly tell. I hope the Ministry was made aware of this change. Did Dumbledore bring you in as some sort of charity, or are you exceptional in some way?"

I glanced around the room, everyone's eyes staring at me, including Jenna's, who turned to face me from the second to last row. "I don't understand what you mean."

"We are thoroughly involved in charity at the Ministry, and we would be delighted to have you talk to us about your life before Hogwarts," she smiled.

What a bitch.

I went to sit by Jenna as Umbridge started her lesson. "Where were we? Ah, yes. Good morning, children." She strode to the front of the classroom, writing on the board with chalk using a spell as she walked. "Ordinary Wizarding Examinations. O.W.L.s. More commonly known as...OWLs! Study hard, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so and the consequences may be...severe!"

She flicked her wand, and the stacks of books on the front desk sailed towards the rows of students behind desks and dropped a text in front of each one. I tried not to look amazed, I'm sure it was probably normal to have your books float right to you. This wizarding thing could do my laziness some favors if I was being honest.

"Your previous instruction in this subject has been disturbingly uneven," she said, unsuccessfully hiding her disgust. "But you'll be pleased to know, from now on, you will be following a carefully structured, ministry-approved course of defensive magic--yes?"

A girl with a carefully tamed mane of thick brown hair raised her hand. Her red and black robes were the same as Harry's, so I knew she was in Gryffindor. Tentatively, she asked, "There's nothing in here about using defensive spells?"

"Using spells?" Umbridge said, chirping a short laugh. "Well, I can't imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom!"

"We're not gonna use magic?" A dopey redhead sitting next to Harry asked in disbelief.

A part of me sighed with relief. No spells meant more time to keep a secret that would become increasingly harder to have tucked away in a school for magic. At least I could count on this class being a safe space for me to observe and learn more about defensive spells. The others obviously did not share my sentiments.

Umbridge smiled like she was about to give a sales pitch. "You will be learning about spells in a secure, risk-free way--"

"Well, what use is that? If we're gonna be attacked, it won't be risk-free." I turned my head to see that Harry had spoken. I hadn't expected the almost shy boy from Dumbledore's office to be standing up to Umbridge and speaking out of turn. I respected it because I was getting a really bad feeling about this woman. But she thought quite differently. Her head snapped towards Harry, her grinning facade beginning to crack. "Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class!" The artificial cheeriness of her voice was gone and she sounded threatening. Then, like night and day, she turned back to the rest of us with a readjusted smile on her face and a soft voice on her tongue once more, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

"It is the view of the Ministry," she continued her spiel. "That a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get you through your examinations, which after all, is what school is all about!" She put so much emphasis on the word 'school' that it might crack under pressure. I didn't know if she really believed this, or was just trying hard to sell it.

Harry spoke up again, and I tried to hide my smile. He was slowly becoming the highlight of my day so far, which I needed after my shitty night and morning. "And how's 'theory' supposed to prepare us for what's out there?"

"There's nothing out there, dear," Umbridge answered exasperatedly. "Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourself?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe Lord Voldemort," Harry said sarcastically. You could have heard a pin drop in the room. The only sound after a second was a pencil hitting the floor.

Umbridge blinked for a moment, her fake smile turning into more of a mixture between a grimace and a deer in the headlights. "Let me make this quite plain," she began. "You have been told that a certain dark wizard is at large once again. This. Is. A. Lie."

"It's not a lie! I saw him, I fought him--"

"DETENTION, Mr. Potter!" she screamed.

"So according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?"

Jenna leaned over to me. "He's been guilty about Cedric's death since last year. He took the death pretty hard, which if it really was Voldemort who killed him, had to trigger a lot of awful memories for the bloke. The trouble is, he can say that Cedric was killed by the most powerful dark wizard of this age, but the only other witness is Cedric himself and he's, well, dead."

I remembered Harry mentioning it in Dumbledore's office earlier. But something Jenna said also made me think. If it really was Voldemort who killed him...

There was doubt even among people I cared about. Maybe I wasn't in as grave of danger as I thought.

Umbridge had continued. "Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident--"

"It was murder, Voldemort killed him, you must know that--"

"ENOUGH!" Umbridge's voice rang through the room and she stomped her foot like a child. "Enough. See me later, Mr. Potter. My office." She giggled. Poor Harry.

I noticed I didn't have a book in front of me. I cleared my throat. Umbridge turned on me after I made a noise. "Another student speaking out of turn?" she mused.

I raised my hand.

"Today's lesson will be on the defensive spell, Protego, which shall be used in circumstances such as--"

"You said we could speak if we had our hand raised, and now you refuse to call on us?" I said, irritated. Her head snapped towards me, eyes boring into mine.

"What did you just ask?" Her question was hostile.

"I'm only saying, you interrupted Dumbledore with a clearing of your throat, and you told us to have our hands raised when we speak. I can't think of a more respectful way to get your attention, and yet you don't offer the respect back of calling on me?"

I could almost see the blood boiling under her skin, and I swear she was foaming at the mouth in exasperation. But talking back was the only solidarity I could give Harry.

"Would you rather do magic like Mr. Potter, is that it?" she snarled. "Well, you can have detention right along with him!"

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "I'm sorry, professor, I didn't mean to offend, but I just need a book." I gestured at my open desk. "I want to be able to follow along since we only do bookwork in this class, but I can't. You were starting the lesson, I just...I just needed to get your attention."

I hated myself for that final stutter, but I was more than a little terrified at that moment. Something told me her detentions were never fun, and I'd had my fair share of mine.

Her eyes softened. "Oh, my sincerest apologies. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. I got a little ahead of myself." She tossed her hair back, clearly frazzled. "You're excused from detention, Miss Beckett."

I couldn't wait for the rest of class to be over so I could get back to the dorm and take a nap. Maybe later, I could talk to Harry about what he saw that night Cedric was killed. Regardless, this school was turning out to be more frightening than I had originally thought.