dark side • draco malfoy

5 | Nonverbal Spells {edited}

I sighed in annoyance as Professor Snape went on and on about the dark arts. The way he spoke about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was slightly concerning. That, and the way his eyes seemed to light up whenever he spoke of his beloved dark arts and how powerful they are.

"Today, you will all be practising nonverbal spells. Can anyone tell me the advantages of using a nonverbal spell?" Snape drawled. His voice held the usual boring tone but I'd never seen him look more happy.

The slimy git finally had the job he wanted.

"No one? Very well. Miss Granger?" He sighed, glaring at my fellow Gryffindor. Snape had always hated Hermione. Whether it was because she was a Gryffindor, or a muggleborn, or just really bloody smart, I wasn't sure.

Perhaps it was all three.

"Your opponent has no idea what spell you're about to perform, and this gives you a split-second advantage," Hermione answered easily.

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six. Nevertheless, correct in essentials. Yes, those who can use magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this though. It takes a great deal of concentration and mind power which some..... lack." I noticed Snape kept his gaze on Harry, his dark eyes narrowing even further.

What did he have against Harry now?

"You will be divided into pairs. And no, Mr Weasley, you will not be choosing your partner. I will do that for you. Granger, Parkinson, you two will be together. Potter and Zabini, Weasley and Nott, Finnigan and Goyle...."

Everyone had extremely unpleased looks on their faces as Snape assigned partners.

"And lastly, Chapman and Malfoy. Don't forget that you are only trying to disarm your opponent, not harm them. Do not speak the incantations aloud. You may begin." He finished, sitting down at his desk.

I groaned inwardly as I slowly stood up from my desk. Out of all the people in this class, Snape had to pair me with Malfoy.

Bloody hell.

I made my way over to where the blonde Slytherin was sulking in the corner, and crossed my arms frustratingly.

"Malfoy." I nodded stiffly at him. It was the most polite form of a greeting he was going to get from me.

"Chapman," he replied in the same cold tone.

"Let's just get this over with," I grumbled, getting into position.

I figured that Malfoy thought that he was a very advanced student for being able to perform nonverbal spells, but little did he know that I could too. Because my father is an auror, he felt that it was important to start teaching me nonverbal spells (especially duelling and defence spells) in my fourth year, and by now I found them fairly simple.

I watched as Malfoy's right hand twitched ever-so-slightly, and I immediately responded.

"Protego!" I shouted inside my head, smirking at the way his jaw dropped.

"What's wrong, Malfoy? Can't handle a little competition?" I grinned darkly at him. He shot me a scowl, before silently firing spell after spell at me, all of which I repelled.

This went on for several minutes and I could see that he was getting more frustrated and less concentrated, so I took that as my cue to attack.

"Stupefy!" I thought loudly, and I watched as Malfoy flew backwards into the air and landed on his bottom on the cold, stone floor.

Grinning as my fellow Gryffindors applauded me, I looked at Malfoy to see him staring intensely at me. I frowned, and he immediately snapped out of it and stood up.

"Not bad, Miss Chapman. But perhaps next time Mr. Malfoy will not go as easy on you. Class dismissed," Snape sighed, and I hurriedly grabbed my things and left the classroom.

"Blimey, Ivy! That was incredible!" Dean Thomas came up beside me and nudged me slightly.

"It felt pretty good!" I laughed, making my way up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey Ivy, could I talk to you for a moment?" I heard Harry's voice come from behind me.

"Of course. See you later, Dean!" I waved at the tall boy, before heading down a deserted corridor with Harry.

"What's up?" I asked him, leaning against the stone wall of the castle.

"What you did earlier was awesome — I'd love to kick Malfoy's arse in a duel and humiliate him in front of everyone, but you need to be careful now. He's obviously pissed off and embarrassed about it, and he's not the same, harmless git he used to be, Ivy. I..... I think there's a possibility that he might be a Death Eater!" Harry warned, keeping his voice low and glancing over his shoulder.

"What? Since when? They wouldn't really make him one of them, this young, would they?" I gasped, unable to fathom the idea.

"I wouldn't be surprised, but it's just a hunch. I have no solid proof — yet. But please, be careful from now on." He pushed his glasses farther up his nose, and I nodded, trying to process everything he had just told me.

"Of course. Thanks Harry." I smiled at him, feeling a little sick at the idea that one of my classmates could be working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"No problem. What are friends for?"