The Prefect ⌁ Draco Malfoy

5.

That afternoon, (Y/N) sat unexcitedly in the middle of the classroom. She decided early on that the most invisible place to sit is in the middle and not in the front or even in the back. But this particular day she found it very hard to be invisible in Professor Umbridge's class, as Defense Against The Dark Arts was to be taken with Slytherin house.

 Professor Umbridge was already seated in her teacher's desk. Draco and Pansy sat behind her and it only brought her more anxiety when Dean Thomas sat in front of her. She had had a crush on Dean Thomas for forever, he always just seemed so nice and so cute. She sunk further into her chair, wishing she could hide forever. She knew she couldn't expect herself to suddenly be as outgoing as Harry Potter, but she was beginning to hate her comfortability in shyness.

Hermione finally sat down next to her, as Harry and Ron sat in the chairs next to her. The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

  "Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down. 

 A few people around the class mumbled a weak "Good afternoon," in reply.

 "Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!" 

 "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.  (Y/N) had her book covering her mouth as a cop out.

 "There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Miss (Y/L/N)?" The girl looked up from her book hesitantly, as everyone turned around in their chairs to take a look at the new Prefect who never spoke.

 "You are a Prefect, aren't you?" She pointed to the badge on (Y/N)'s chest. (Y/N) nodded, trying to feign a bit more confidence. Professors have done this before to try and get her to speak, only to have her sent to Professor McGonagall.

 "In this class, you will speak when spoken to. Can you demonstrate for the class." Umbridge said more as a demand than anything else. (Y/N) looked forward at all the faces staring at her, all except Draco Malfoy, who in any other situation would thrive off a Gryffindor being mocked. Instead, he kept his head down, "Good afternoon!"

 "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." (Y/N) said, less confidently than it was planned to be in her head.

 "That'll do, I suppose. For today, wouldn't want for me to have to say something to Dumbledore about this schools judgment in Prefects." Umbridge walked to the front of the class, "Anyways: wands away and quills out, please."

 The class exchanged gloomy looks; the order "wands away" had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. (Y/N) shoved her wand back into her bag and pulled out quill, ink, and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

 Defense Against the Dark Arts:

 A Return to Basic Principles.

 "Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please." She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by: