Disclaimer: Icy’s brain dead at the moment. XD So, simply said, she doesn’t own Harry Potter in any way at all.
Parenting Class
Detention with McGonagall
“But…but I’ve never had a detention before,” Hermione sniffled, sitting on the couch with a box of tissues in her lap, and blowing her nose every few seconds. “Mommy and Daddy…they’re going to be so upset when they hear about it.”
“Detentions aren’t bad,” Draco assured her.
“Yes they are,” she sobbed, pressing her face into a pillow. In a more muffled voice she said, “You get them for getting in trouble…I’ve never been in trouble before.”
Draco and Harry raised eyebrows at the last comment, but kept quiet. “It’ll be okay, Mione,” Harry comforted, patting the girl’s head. “Your parents don’t even have to hear about it.”
“They…don’t?” Hermione slowly looked up from the pillow. “I don’t have to…tell them?”
“That’s right. At Hogwarts your parents won’t hear about any detentions you get unless the headmaster deems it necessary to.”
Hermione brightened. And then a second later, her face fell again. “But I still got in trouble. And I can’t lie to Mommy and Daddy when I go back home…it isn’t right.”
“Well…if they don’t ask then you don’t have to lie,” Draco smirked.
“But what if they do?”
“Then you’re in trouble.”
Hermione broke down crying again. “I…I don’t even…even know…what I….I did wrong!” she wailed, pounding her fists into the pillow.
“You were teaching the other kids swear words,” Harry informed.
“B-but…why…is that…a bad thing?”
“We aren’t supposed to use those words,” Draco explained. “They’re bad and the teachers don’t like to hear them. We only say them when there aren’t any teachers nearby.”
“And we shouldn’t even do that,” Harry interrupted before Hermione could get any ideas. “Words like darn or shoot are okay though.”
“What about fiddlesticks?”
“A what stick?” Draco asked.
“That’d be okay,” Harry clarified.
“What about muffins?”
“That’d work too.”
“Fudge?”
“How many more words do you have?” Draco grumbled, snatching the pillow from Hermione and placing his head on it.
“Lots of words! Mommy uses them all the time. How about bah-humbug?”
“I’m pretty sure any words your mom uses will be all right to use here,” Harry said tiredly, flopping down on one of the armchairs, Butterscotch jumping up on his stomach a moment later.
“What time is the detention at again?” Draco asked, closing his eyes to take a nap.
“Eight,” Hermione said tearfully.
“And what time is it now?” Harry queried, also settling down for a nap.
“Seven fifty-nine.”
“That’s nice…” A few seconds pause. “DID YOU SAY SEVEN FIFTY-NINE?” Harry screeched, jumping to his feet, Butterscotch hitting the floor with a soft thump. “WE’RE LATE! WE’LL NEVER MAKE IT IN TIME!”
“Just kidding,” Hermione grinned. “It’s six thirty.”
Harry looked absolutely livid, his face bright red and eyes stormy. “Draco,” Hermione squeaked, climbing on top of Draco and then over him so she was between him and the back of the couch, “save me.”
“Save yourself,” the Slytherin replied, grabbing a blanket off the top of the sofa and pulling it over himself. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“He’s getting closer…”
“For the last time, let me sleep,” Draco growled, wrapping an arm around Sparkles.
“DRACO!” Hermione screamed as Harry lunged. The Slytherin yelped as Harry slammed a fist into his face in his attempt to reach Hermione.
“GET OFF ME, POTTER!” Draco demanded, trying to catch Harry’s fists so they would stop hitting him. But the Gryffindor took no notice, not even realizing it was Draco he was pummeling (which is actually a good thing since if he did hit Mione it’d be child abuse).
“FIGHT BACK YOU IDIOT!” Hermione shouted, pulling the blanket over her head and cowering with Sparkles in her arms.
Draco, although angry about Hermione’s choice of words (namely calling him an idiot) did see some sense in her remark. He wouldn’t be getting beat up so bad if he started to land some of his own punches.
“GO DRACO!” the child cheered, now peeping out from beneath the blanket since both boys were on the floor and not on the couch. “BEAT HIM TO A BLOODY PULP!”
But all too soon Hermione grew bored, her applause dying down to ‘Yay…’, and she jumped off the back of the couch and disappeared into Draco’s room to find something to read…something that wasn’t a fairytale. She wanted to learn and save the story for bed time. Neither boy noticed her, both still snarling in rage and trying to knock each other out.
Opening the Slytherin’s trunk, Hermione tug through some of the texts and came out with a thick black folder, sheets of parchment scrawled with notes stuck inside. “Defense Against Dark Arts- The Three Unforgivables,” Hermione read, studying the neat cursive. “Those sound interesting.”
Going out into the common room, the girl passed by Harry and Draco, both of who were now fighting for control of Draco’s wand, Harry’s lying abandoned several feet away. With a shrug, Hermione went over, picked up the lonely wand, and disappeared into her bedroom.
Flopping down comfortably on her bed, Hermione propped up the parchment on her pillow and began to read.
Defense Against Dark Arts- The Three Unforgivables
Tuesday, Sept. 18
Draco Malfoy
D.A.D.A- Moody
CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
First spell- Imperius Curse
- The incantation is Imperio.
-Gives user the control over victim’s actions.
-examples:
--Spider tap-dancing
--Pansy singing WAY too high (SHUT UP!)
--Blaise juggling (He can’t do that!)
Hermione paused in her reading. How was Blaise mentioned in Draco’s notes if he was only five? Was it a different Blaise? Shrugging, she continued on.
Second spell- Crutacius Curse
CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
-The incantation is Crucio
-Causes enormous amount of pain to victim. Can result in brain damage, memory loss, uselessness of limbs, etc. The longer it is placed on victim, the more prone he is to being permanently injured.
-To effectively use the Crutacius Curse, the caster of the spell must want to see the other person hurt.
CONSTANT VIGILANCE! (Would you stop saying that, you bloody bastard?) A large smear of ink blocked out the rest of Draco’s swearing, along with a small note from Moody for Draco to come to his office that night at seven for detention.
-example:
--Spider being put under spell
Third spell- Killing Curse
-The incantation is Avada Kedavra
-Victim is dead on contact with spell. Green is the color of magic of the spell. No shielding charms can block this curse. Physical objects can as long as infused with magical properties.
-Like Crutacius Curse, caster must want to see victim dead.
-example:
--Moody killed spider
CONSTANT VIGILANCE, MALFOY! (ARGH! Quit singling me out!)
“That one sounds interesting,” Hermione mused, tapping Harry’s wand thoughtfully against the page. “I don’t think they’ll really work though. I mean, why would Hogwarts teach this?”
A sudden idea struck the girl. “Draco knew I’d raid his stuff! He put this in here to trick me! That evil…” The beginning to her long rant broke off. She could get revenge. She could try one of these spells on Draco. After all, they didn’t work. Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, Hermione exited her room and went back to the common room, where both boys were lying on the floor next to each other, a colorful array of bruises dotting their skin.
“Die…Malfoy,” Harry panted, poking Draco lightly in the arm.
“No…you die,” Draco returned, tapping Harry’s leg with his foot. “I’ll…never…surrender…”
“Then…I kill…you,” Harry responded weakly, trying to poke Draco again but his hand misjudging the distance and tapping the carpeting.
Hermione hesitated with her wand. First off, she couldn’t be that angry at Draco. Sure, he did plant the false information in his trunk for her to read, but he had saved her from Harry. He didn’t deserve to be cursed. Harry did though, for being so mean to her just because she told him the wrong time. But she wasn’t very mad at him…and the spell said she’d have to mean it.
Walking over to Harry, she kicked the boy lightly in his side. “Get up and face me, you coward,” she commanded, the wand tucked behind her ear like a pencil.
Harry groaned and looked up at her blearily through his cracked glasses, one of the lenses decorated with thin lines of broken glass. “What?”
“I’m going to kill you for hurting Draco. Now stand up.”
“Too…tired… Get me…up…tomorrow.”
Growling, Hermione gave the Gryffindor another kick and then jumped on top of his stomach. Hopping off (after bouncing several times) she raced over to the window and drew ‘her’ wand.
By now, Harry had had enough. Scrambling to his feet and throwing off his glasses (even though he may as well be blind now it was better then accidentally getting glass in his eye) the boy advanced, anger glimmering in his eyes.
“Come on! Try and hit me!” Hermione taunted, standing her ground. She didn’t want to be hit, but she needed a good reason to get mad at Harry.
Harry, still not quite comprehending that Hermione was only five (Draco’s blow to his head seemed to have addled his understanding) charged, fists flying outward. But Hermione dodged and the boy only caught a handful of her hair, yanking it back and causing quite a number of strands to come out.
That was all Hermione needed.
“YOU RUINED MY HAIR! YOU WILL SUFFER!”
Draco, just regaining his wits, sat up and watched to see what Hermione would do. None expected what would happen next.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!” A bright beam of green light shot from the end of the wand and straight towards Harry, his eyes widening in shock. A second later, he keeled over and fell to the ground, his eyes closed.
“HARRY!” Draco cried, sprinting to his fallen friend. Picking up his wrist, Draco felt for a pulse…there was none. Nor could he see the boy’s chest moving up and down. He never happened to take into consideration that Harry was wearing an incredibly thick sweater and through the layers, you couldn’t see or feel anything.
“Don’t worry, he’s alive. It’s a fake curse that you made up to fool me,” Hermione said, squatting down next to Harry’s body.
“What are you talking about?” Draco asked, tears shining in his eyes though they refused to fall. “Avada Kedavra is a real curse. It really kills people. And you killed Harry.”
“No…no I didn’t. He…he’s not dead. He can’t be.” But as Hermione took in Draco’s face, the stillness of Harry, she finally realized what she’d done. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO! WAKE UP!” she sobbed, shaking Harry’s shoulders. “WAKE UP!”
Draco hauled Harry to his feet and placed a levitating charm on him. “Come,” he said softly to Hermione, the tears leaving his eyes and his face in a mask of calm. “We’ll go see McGonagall.”
Sniffling, Hermione followed, tucking Harry’s glasses in her pocket. Neither noticed the dead fly sitting on Harry’s sweater, its black body almost invisible against one of the navy stripes in the shirt, one of its legs hooked in the yarn.
By the time they reached the Transfiguration room, it was two minutes past eight. And when they walked in, McGonagall looked up from her desk where she’d been sitting and timing how long it’d take this group to make it. But the lecture she was going to give them fell from her lips as she caught sight of Harry, floating eerily still behind Draco.
“Mr. Malfoy?”
“Harry’s dead. Hermione killed him,” Draco whispered, refusing to look at the professor. “It was an accident…she didn’t mean to.”
“How?” was all the teacher asked, stepping out from behind her desk and approaching the hovering Harry.
“Killing curse,” the Slytherin said softly. “She didn’t think it would work.”
“Miss Granger?”
The child flung herself at McGonagall, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I want Harry back!” she sobbed into the robes. “Bring him back!”
“Is he really…dead?” Ron said, disbelief evident in his voice. Was Draco playing a trick. But when Draco looked up to meet Ron’s gaze, a single tear on his cheek, Ron knew the truth. Draco never cried. Never. And if he was doing so now… “No…,” Ron gasped.
His eyes hardening he marched over to Harry and grabbed his best friend by the shoulders. “WAKE UP RIGHT NOW!” No movement. Ron paused for a second to think. “I’LL TELL GINNY YOU THINK SHE’S UGLY!”
“What? No! Don’t do that!” Harry cried, coming to life in Ron’s grip. The redhead screamed and backed away, and Draco’s levitation charm faltered, dropping Harry to the ground. With a moan, Harry rose to his feet, just now feeling the effects of his fight with Draco. “What’s going on?”
“Is he a ghost?” Terry whispered.
“Felt real enough to me,” Ron shuddered, staring at Harry with a mixture of awe and fear.
“You died,” Draco informed him. “And now you’re alive again.”
“I died?”
“I KILLED YOU!” Hermione wailed. “I DIDN’T THINK IT WOULD WORK!”
“She hit you with the killing curse,” Draco said softly. “I saw it. In the common room. Remember?”
Harry closed his eyes to think. He’d been chasing Hermione and trying to punch her (‘Bad Harry!’ he scolded himself) when he’d ripped out some of her hair. Hermione had yelled something at him and then shot a curse off of his wand. But right before the curse hit he’d seen a small black dot swim in front of his vision. Then everything went black.
“Hey! What’s this?” Lavender asked, standing next to Harry and pulling something off of his shirt. “Ewww! It’s a dead fly!”
“The fly must have flown in front of Harry and taken the curse,” Draco realized.
“That must be the black dot,” Harry confirmed, nodding his head.
“And then you fainted,” Hermione grinned.
“But why didn’t I feel a pulse?” Draco asked.
“He’s wearing a sweater,” Pansy pointed out. “Did you bother to roll up the sleeve?”
“…”
“Draco!”
“Sorry,” the blond said sheepishly.
McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, if you’d please, take your seats and I’ll explain your detention. Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy? I’ll let you off this one time given the circumstances. Miss Granger, you as well but no more pulling stunts like that, understand?”
“Yes, Professor,” Hermione said meekly. Turning to Harry, the girl gave him a hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Harry hugged her back. “It’s all right. But just do as McGonagall said, okay? Promise?”
“I promise,” Hermione said sincerely.
Both quieted down as McGonagall went to the front of the room. “Your job is simple. I want this room and my office cleaned top to bottom. Books alphabetical on the shelves by subject, all the supplies organized, chairs and desks cleaned and gum scraped off. No one will touch any of my things or you will receive more punishment. Any questions?” The class shook their heads. “Very well. Oh, and no magic. So please, bring your wands up to the front of the room. Mr. Potter, bring your glasses up so I can fix them.” (Hermione had given them back.)
“I trust that I don’t have to be in the room with you when you’re cleaning, do I? I’m hoping that as a class you’ll help each other out. For if even one person does something wrong, the lot of you will be punished. I’ll be back by ten…I hope this room is sparkling by then.” With that, McGonagall swept from the room, wands in a box under her arm.
All the students turned to look at each other. “I’m not cleaning,” sniffed Pansy. “That what House Elves are for.”
“Me either,” Draco said, putting his head on his arms. “I’ve done enough today. Speaking of which, anyone have ice? My eye’s swelling shut.”
“What exactly did happen to you two?” Ron asked, staring at the bruising Draco and Harry.
“We got in a fight,” Harry muttered. “I don’t really remember why though.”
Draco shrugged. “Neither do I. Although I guess it doesn’t really matter…but does anyone have ice?”
“Sorry,” Pansy apologized. “I’d conjure you some but McGonagall took our wands.”
“Which leads us back to our current problem. Who wants to clean what?” asked Terry. “And everyone has to help,” he said, pointedly looking at Draco and Pansy.
“All the kids could wash down the tables, couldn’t they?” asked Neville. “It isn’t too dangerous.”
“Good idea,” Hannah congratulated. Turning to the kids she said, “Just take the bucket of water by McGonagall’s desk and wash down the chairs and desks. If you find gum or a stain that won’t come off, put one of these-” she held out a bag of bright red cloth circles that she used in her sewing- “on top of it and an older student will come around and assist you.”
“I’ll alphabetize the books,” Neville said. “I don’t think I can mess that up too much.”
“I’ll help you with that,” Pansy said. “It sounds easy.”
Pretty soon, jobs had been distributed to each student (Draco sulkily joining the cleaning crew for McGonagall’s office and Harry placed as sweeper in the classroom) and they were hard at work.
“Can you imagine if Hermione were older right now?” Harry whispered to Ron as he swept past the redhead, who was shelving boxes. “She’d be using this to show that House Elves aren’t needed.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t remember this,” Ron replied.
“I’m pretty sure she will.”
“Yeah,” Ron sighed, pushing a crate full of rope to the far corner of the top shelf. “But we can hop-”
“FIRE! THERE’S A FIRE!” screamed Lavender, racing away from the desks. Indeed, flames were rapidly spreading across the wood, a knocked over candle the source of this damage.
“What do we do?” Pansy cried, running out of McGonagall’s office. “We don’t have our wands!” The students watched in horror as the flames continued to lick away the wooden desks and chairs, before beginning to prey on the floor and walls.
“We’ll have to jump out the window,” Harry said, crossing the room and pushing against the huge circular window behind McGonagall’s desk. It didn’t budge.
Black smoke was rapidly filling the room, making eyes water and throats close. “Drop to the ground!” shouted Hannah, pushing Ron down. “The air’s cleaner nearer to the floor.”
“I don’t want to die!” Hermione cried, clinging to Draco and burying her face in his chest. Seconds later, her grip loosened and she fell limp against him.
“Break the bloody window!” Ron shouted, cradling a limp Lavender in his arms. “We have to get out!”
Neville passed a large silver candlestick to Harry, who was nearest to the window. Taking a deep breath of cleaner air, Harry stood up and smashed the object against the glass, his heart soaring when the beautiful sound of glass breaking reached his ears.
“Get the kids out first!” ordered Seamus, Padma unconscious on his back. “They’re taking in too much smoke!”
“It’s a fifty foot drop!” Harry shouted, looking at the ground below. “We’ll die if we jump out.”
“And if we stay here it’s the same thing,” Pansy said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Just jump! At least we have a chance.”
“I’ll go first with Mione,” Draco volunteered, pulling off his robe and wrapping around Hermione so she wouldn’t get cut by the broken glass. Climbing awkwardly onto the ledge next to the window, the Slytherin looked down. Flashing a confident smile at his friends, he ducked through, ignoring the stinging of the glass digging into his skin. And with a deep breath, he jumped.
“Don’t watch,” Hannah ordered. “Next group, go! We don’t have time to think!” She was right. The fire was almost at McGonagall’s desk and all the students were just behind it. Ron dove out the window with Lavender and Crabbe took Goyle.
Soon, only Hannah and Harry were left. “Together?” she asked, looking fearfully back at the fire.
“Why not?”
Taking each other’s hands, they jumped, both closing their eyes tightly. Harry hit the ground first, Hannah falling on top of him. Above them, flames leapt out the window and against the night sky. They’d made it out just in time.
Harry shakily rose to his feet, beyond thankful he was alive. Nothing felt broken either. “You okay, Hannah?”
“I think my arm’s broken,” was her soft reply. “Pretty good considering the drop though.”
“You two all right?” Draco asked, silver eyes glowing in the dark as he made his way over to the newest jumpers.
“Yeah…but Hannah busted her arm. How’s everyone else?” Harry asked, anxiously trying to make out the forms of his classmates.
“All alive and not too hurt,” Draco smiled. “Ron broke both legs, Terry’s got a broken wrist, and everyone has lots of bumps and bruises.”
“You don’t,” Hannah observed. “Except the ones from earlier.”
Draco’s grin lighted up the area around them. “A Malfoy always lands on his feet. Come on, we’re getting away from the building in case it collapses.”
Harry’s jaw dropped as he followed Draco, helping Hannah along. “On your feet? You managed to land on your feet!”
“That’s right.”
Wand light to their left caused the whole class to look up as McGonagall and Dumbledore came rushing across the grounds.
“Are you all here?” McGonagall asked breathlessly, trying to take a headcount in the dark.
“We’re all fine,” Seamus said, coming over with Padma clinging to his leg. On Neville hung Blaise and Lavender and Pansy had Hermione, all of which were awake.
The Transfig professor levitated those who couldn’t walk (like Ron) and the whole class made their way to the hospital wing, while Dumbledore doused the fire from the ground.
About an hour later, a soot stained Draco, Hermione, and Harry were heading back for their rooms, McGonagall’s lecture still ringing in their ears.
“A week’s worth of detentions!”
“Outlandish!”
“A candle!”
“My office is ruined!”
But all of the students could tell that despite McGonagall’s anger, she was truly relieved and thankful that broken bones were the worst students were suffering. It was her way of showing she cared…not that any of the students particularly liked it.
As soon as Hermione had been tucked in bed (for once going without a fuss) Draco and Harry flopped down on the couch and pulled out their homework that they hadn’t managed to do. But their minds weren’t focused on homework. They were just wondering.
Just wondering how much more they could take.
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