For Better, For Worse

Chapter Five

songs for this chapter:
achilles come down - gang of youths
prey - the neighbourhood

⧏ ▴ ⧐

September 4th, 1995

Thursday we have our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with our new teacher. Dolores Umbridge: a puppet of the Ministry who is sure to make our lives a living hell.

Well, maybe not mine. My Father's rather high up in the Ministry— but I do pity everyone else.

I walk in with Daphne and I see Umbridge at the front of the room from out in the hall, wearing an offensively pink outfit. I wouldn't call myself pink's biggest fan, but I especially hate it on her. Her small smile is pinched and clearly faked, not carrying to her eyes.

Daphne and I share a knowing look before stepping further into the room. I scan the class, looking for a seat when I notice a particularly interesting pair of people at the back right desk.

Daphne notices too. "What's up with them two?" She nudges me, tilting her head to indicate the couple at the back table.

Malfoy and Pansy. She's giggling like an idiot, her hand resting over his forearm. He looks uninterested, as always. I swallow, moving my eyes away from them and back to Daphne as we move towards an empty table.

"I— well, I caught them snogging last night," I confess, whispering to her as we take the table diagonal from them, right in the center of the room.

"What?" Daphne scrunches her face. "Pansy? With him?"

"Yes, Malfoy would be the him included in the 'them' of this story."

Daphne rolls her eyes, setting her books down on the table before us. "It's just— unbelievable. To willingly like such a prick."

"Agreed." I nod, pulling out my own books.

"She's much too good for him," Daphne observes, sparing them a glance over her shoulder again.

She was right— Pansy was far too good for him. Sure he was— admittedly attractive— no use denying it. But Pansy, Pansy had always been absolutely gorgeous.

Sleek black hair cut just to her chin, sharp bangs framing her face. Dark freckles dotting across her fair skin. Piercing green eyes and an alluring smile. The perfect body, perfect face, and it wasn't all that difficult to have a better personality when compared to Malfoy.

She could have anyone in this damn school— and she picked him.

"Maybe they'll start something more..." Daphne continues, still looking over her shoulder, watching Malfoy whisper in Pansy's ear while her cheeks turn red, "...serious." Daphne swallows in disgust, turning back to me. "Meet the parents, the whole nine yards. Then you'll be off the hook."

"Off the hook...?" I trail off, working to understand what she means.

She lightly flutters her hand against the desk, and then taps her ring finger.

"Oh," I sigh, realizing she's indicating the betrothal, "well, his parents don't fancy the Parkinson's much. Wouldn't find Pansy suitable for Malfoy." Daphne raises her eyebrows. "What?" I turn back to her, raising my own.

"Nothing." She shrugs, a small smile on her face. I hit her shoulder and she smiles wider. "Is it his parents who don't find her suitable, or is it you?"

If there's one thing I can thank Dolores Umbridge for, it's impeccable timing.

"Hello, class! How are you all this morning?" Her voice squeaks from the front of the room, and I let out a sigh of relief that I can ignore Daphne's question. We all mumble back a 'Good Morning' and tell her we are well.