REBEL

PROLOGUE

The robin sounds a beggar's note
Where one the nightingale has heard,
But he for whom no silver throat
Its liquid music ever stirred,
Deems robin still the sweetest bird.

- Paul Laurence Dunbar

***

Prologue
Flashbacks

Third Year

She's actually not one to eavesdrop. But it's a sunny Saturday afternoon, most of the students are already out and about at the lake or on the grounds, and it's dead quiet in the library. Accordingly, despite the meter-high wall of weighty tomes separating them from Hermione, Parkinson and Bullstrode can be heard loud and clear.

"—begged his father several times to change his mind," Parkinson sighs. "Completely in vain, of course. When Draco learned that Lucius bribed the board, he was in despair. Meanwhile, he bitterly regrets informing his parents."

"Tsk, I'd say it was foreseeable that Mr. Malfoy wouldn't let the matter rest. I mean, the conditions are unacceptable. Something like this can't be allowed to happen, Pans."

"I know, I know. But that doesn't mean that Draco wants this vile creature to die."

Instantly, Hermione's face darkens. She has a vague idea of what this whispered conversation is about. After all, she's the one who's been poring over ancient legal texts for weeks to prevent the worst. Apparently for nothing at all. She hasn't heard from Hagrid yet, but Parkinson's words give her a sense of foreboding.

Footsteps sound and soon she can no longer hear her two classmates. However, she ponders the unexpectedly overheard scrap of conversation for quite a while. For the life of her, she can't imagine that Malfoy actually feels guilty. She wouldn't have put it past him to dance on Buckbeak's grave.

*

Hermione hears Hagrid sobbing, then notices Malfoy's provocative sneer. She has to clench her hands into fists to keep from wiping it off his face herself.

How dare he? How dare he laugh at Hagrid and his grief in front of everyone and without a trace of shame? How does he manage to pretend he doesn't mind at all that McNair, the Ministry's executioner, is going to lop off Buckbeak's head?

She knows better because she hasn't forgotten Parkinson's whispered words. However, this knowledge doesn't make the situation more bearable, let alone more understandable. On the contrary. She simply doesn't grasp why he's behaving so terribly when in actual fact he regrets telling his father about the accident.

No, she really doesn't understand him. He is responsible for the fact that a living being will die. Just because he got a scratch. Which was his own fault, after all he neglected his teacher's instructions. And because he ran to daddy like a crybaby afterwards. But instead of apologizing for things getting so out of hand, he's now making fun of it.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" says Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

Before Hermione knows what she's doing, she storms over and slams her fist into Malfoy's face. There is an auspicious cracking sound and Malfoy yelps. When she draws her wand for good measure, he gives her a horrified look and backs off, stumbling away hastily, Crabbe and Goyle hot on his heels.

Of course, Harry and Ron are thrilled by her performance, but Hermione can't even smile wearily. She's busy puzzling her head over Malfoy. That hypocrite. That actor. She didn't smack him because he laughed at Hagrid, but because he's such a lying, gutless bugger.