JUST A MUDBLOOD, draco malfoy

Chapter Seventy

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Y/N MAXWELL

Winter has finally decided to make its appearance at Hogwarts for the year and things were still just as unfortunate as they were before. Umrbridge's authority had peeked close to where Dumbledore's was, and students were growing angrier and angrier by the minute.

I shove my hands into my trouser pockets, giving my best attempts to prevent them from freezing off my body. I definitely wasn't made for the cold winter weather, and personally would much prefer a nice warm day over a cold, snowy one.

Hermione, Harry, Ron and I trudge our way through the thick snow out of Hogwarts and all the way to Hogsmeade. It may have taken a little over a week or two, but Hermione and I were finally able to gather enough people to make our whole plan commence.

"This is mad. Who'd want to be taught by me? I'm a nutter, remember?" Harry tries expressing his worry, though once again we practically chose to ignore him.

At this point in time, Harry was the only one who would give us a fighting chance if anything were to go down. I hated to admit it, but deep down I knew Voldemort was back, and if he was anything like the stories say, we needed to be prepared if anything was to happen.

"Look on the bright side; you can't be any worse than old toad face." Ronald cracks a smile, which makes a small chuckle exit my mouth. "In fact, she's that bad, she refuses to teach us."

"Thanks, guys." Harry furrows his eyebrows as he looks in our direction. Ron and I share a similar smile then speak simultaneously. "We're here for you."

"Who is supposed to be meeting us then?" Harry questions, his eyes meeting mine as I flash him a crooked smile. "Just a couple of people."

Finally, we come to a stop outside our destination, the Hog's Head Inn. From where I was standing, it didn't seem like most welcoming place, in fact, it didn't look welcoming at all.

A worn-out wooden sign hung directly above us, advertising a wild boar's severed head and the moment we step foot inside the pub, my nose immediately scrunches from the large amount of sawdust floating throughout the room.

"Lovely spot." Ron yanked the words right out of my mouth, the pair of us watching intensely as a goat runs off into another room.

"Thought it'd be safer somewhere off the beaten track." Hermione whispers, as the four of us pile in and make our way up the stairs and into a secluded room, where a whole bunch of students sat impatiently waiting for the arrival of Harry Potter.

Honestly, I was rather surprised with how many people actually turned up. Part of me assumed that we'd have a maximum of five people, but to say that exceeded my expectations would be an understatement.

"Hi..." Hermione begins. "So, you all know why we're here. We need a teacher. A proper teacher. One who's had real experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts."

"Why?" Zacharias Smith's words caught me off guard, though just before I had the chance to speak, Ronald took the exact words right out of my mouth. "Why? Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot."

Zacharias scoffs, his eyes rolling as he cocks his head in Harry's direction. "So he says."

"So, Dumbledore says." I quickly interject, earning a scowl from the young Hufflepuff. "So, Dumbledore says because he says. The point is, where's the proof?"

"If Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed." Another young Hufflepuff beside Zacharias butted in.

There was a moment of complete silence. I could feel my hands grow clammy and the tension in the room grow thick. It was clear the topic made everyone feel uncomfortable, as the horrific events only took pace a few months back.

"I'm not gonna talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here clear out now." Harry snaps, taking a few steps over to Hermione and shaking his head. "Come on, Hermione. They're here because they think I'm some sort of freak."

Just as Harry prepares himself to leave, Luna Lovegood takes this as an opportunity to talk. "Is it true you can produce a Patronus Charm?"

Hermione quickly nods her head in agreement. "Yes. I've seen it."

"Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you could do that." Dean was in utter awe, peering at his fellow Gryffindor in amazement. "And he killed a basilisk with the sword in Dumbledore's office." Neville chimes in from beside him.

"Third year, he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once." Ron adds, peering around the room.

I take a deep shallow breath, looking over at Harry. "And last year, he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh."

"Wait." Harry begins, letting out a small sigh as he looks around at every person in the room. "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that, but the truth is, most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time. I nearly always had help."

"He's just being modest." Hermione quickly interjects, although Harry is quicker to shut her down. "No, Hermione, I'm not. Facing this stuff in real life is not like school. In school, if you make a mistake, you can just try again tomorrow, but when you're a second away from being murdered or watching a friend die right before your eyes... you don't know what that's like."

The room fell silent for another moment, not a singular person finding the courage to say anything. I watch helplessly as Harry slowly slumps down in his seat and eyes the stares at the floor in defeat. My hand finds refuge on the boy's shoulder, comforting him as I rub my hand back and forth.

"You're right, Harry, we don't. That's why we need your help. Because if we're going to have any chance at beating..." Hermione hesitated for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing as she spoke his name, "Voldemort..."

"He's really back." The soft and frightened voice of one of the younger students gained my attention. Harry unwillingly nods his head.