Challenged Love

Chapter 3

School immediately began the following day, and our class was being introduced to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I do not anticipate that Hogwarts will ever keep a DADA professor for over a year, for I have heard rumors that the position is cursed somehow. This year, however, our teacher's name was Professor Umbridge. I had only known her for the small amount of time I had been sitting in that class, and she was already bothering me immensely. She was covered from head to toe in pink apparel, and her voice was unnecessarily high-pitched. What really troubled me about her was that she passed around first year level textbooks to the class, rather than the textbooks we should be learning from. It also became known that we would not actually be practicing any spells that may protect us from any dark forces, specifically You-Know-Who. Therefore, this year's DADA class was quite frankly disappointing, and could not possibly be effective in education.

Professor Umbridge formerly worked at the Ministry of Magic, and the Ministry has actually been denying the rise of You-Know-Who, claiming Potter to be a liar. The majority has agreed with this statement; however, I was there on the night Cedric Diggory was met with death. I was also there to witness the traumatized condition of Potter. I personally have experienced the trauma of seeing You-Know-Who, and Potter's features resembled those similar, traumatized emotions. Plus, Bellatrix and the Norman's escape was certainly not a coincidence. Potter may be crazy, but he is not insane.

As deadly as You-Know-Who's coming back may be, not many people have been discussing it. Perhaps because they did not believe it, or rather, they did not want to believe it. Coming face to face with a truth as terrifying as this is difficult, but it would certainly be foolish to just ignore it, and act as if nothing happened. It frustrated me that several people were deciding to ignore the situation, but there was nothing I could do to convince them otherwise.

After exiting DADA class with Hermione, we were discussing our new duties as prefects and how difficult they can become. Our friendly chat also traveled down other routes.

"So, are you still enjoying your stay at Malfoy Manor?" Hermione inquired curiously.

"I mean- yeah. It's been great."

"When did you say Kasper was going to buy a house for you two to live in? I know you have mentioned it before."

"Well, he got promoted to a higher position during the summer, and made twice the amount of money he had been making, but I am not sure whether or not he has saved up enough for a house or not."

Hermione nodded, well pleased.

"I think that is very sweet of him," mentioned Hermione.

"It is," I agreed. "He has certainly come a long ways."

"Well, I wish the best for him... and you of course," she smiled.

"Thank you," I replied with a thankful heart.

Now, our discussion will take a turn, as Hermione decides to redirect our conversation to other topics.

"Anyways," she began, "excuse me for asking, but do you and Draco still... talk?"

It seemed like a question with other purposes concealed behind it, but I answered anyway.

"Well, we did not talk much over the summer now that I think about it, but he was not unfriendly or anything."

"Why's that?" she questioned, letting me walk into Charms class before her. We found ourselves a desk in the very front row.

"I presume he was busy most of the summer, traveling with his friends and that sort of thing. Other than that, I can't imagine another reason," I spoke, slamming my books down on the desk.

Hermione gave me an uneasy look, one when she was not quite sure her thoughts would offend me or not.

She nervously laughed. "Oh, it's nothing. I just don't exactly..."

"Approve of him," I finished the rest of her sentence. We have had this conversation many times before.

Hermione proposed to have had a defeated expression upon her features. She knew I would not take that well, and I cannot say I really did.

"Hermione, look-"

"I know! He's not unfriendly to you, but think about how he treats others. How he treats me."

Personally, I have not heard Draco call Hermione a Mudblood in a long time. Then again, we did not reconnect until several months ago.

"I'm sorry, but I can talk to him," I suggested.

"But you do admit he is a bit of a bully?" Hermione questioned sternly.

I sighed. "I said I will talk to him later, okay?"

"I'm not sure that will do much," Hermione confessed.

"Okay, he's not that bad," I argued.

I have never known Hermione to be so ridiculous before. Then again, I am sure she found me ridiculous for going right back to defending Draco as I once did long ago.

"Look, I don't hate Draco," Hermione claimed, "but I do care for you."

"You think he would hurt me?"

"He has done it before, hasn't he?"

As soon as she said this, the bell rang, marking the end of our conversation.

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After school, I sat alone near the side of the Black Lake. It was rather cloudy outside, and the breeze swayed with the water. I was rushing to complete the absurd amount of homework I was assigned on the first day, but the breeze had blown one of my pages into the water. I cursed the wind with brutal language under my breath.

"You don't have to redo it," says a voice out of nowhere.

I whipped my head around in a flash.

"Draco! You can't just sneak up on me like that!"

"Well, I saw you over here, so I thought I should join you."

You think he would hurt me?

He has done it before, hasn't he?

His eyes squinted against the rough, chilly breeze being blown into his face as he retrieved the wet piece of paper out of the water. He then whispered a spell which absorbed all of the water out of it. He handed the paper back to me, and I began to grow foolish for not thinking to do that from the start.

"May I join you?" Draco asked politely.

"Sure," I replied, patting the empty patch of grass next to me.

I must admit that I have not been this close to Draco in a while, hence why I was so aware of his presence and why it felt somewhat strange. But there he was, sitting beside me, and pulling out his books from his bag. Sitting beside me as if we had never been at odds with each other at one point in time. Though, that part of our past now seemed distant in this rare moment.

Unexpectedly, the breeze began to increase its force, sending a cold shiver running through my body. Chill bumps covered my arms, and my teeth were clenching. Today was definitely not the day for doing homework outside.

"Are you cold?" acknowledged Draco.

"Obviously not," I answered with bitter sarcasm.

"Where's your jacket?"

"I left it in my dorm, along with my robe," I confessed, ashamed of my decisions.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "Here," he demanded, removing his robe from his body. "Just take mine. I've got a long-sleeved shirt under this."

Well, he was not joking. He gave me his Slytherin robe, which was quite large on me and which smelled strongly of cologne. The wind then decided to moderately calm its wrath, and we completed our assignments together.

Occasionally, I thought I heard Draco softly breathe with tremulousness, suggesting that he was becoming considerably chilly. Yet, despite himself, he did not ask for his cloak back.