The Abuser

Of Filth and Mudbloods

Mmmm whatcha say? Mmm that you only meant well? Well of course you did.

- Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo

.......

"Hermione! I haven't seen you in almost two hours...it's been dreadful!" I laugh, crashing into her arms. "How's life been?"

"Oh, so much has happened." She jokes, flicking her fingers at my thick, dark, braid. "Honestly though, I've been in a dreadful panic. I think that I got question number twenty-nine on our DADA quiz wrong! What will Professor Lockheart say?"

I grin, elbowing her in the ribs. "I'd wolf-whistle if I knew how. It's so obvious that you have a crush on him, Hermione! Anyway, the chance that you got the problem wrong is about one in five hundred. You've practically memorized all of his books."

"I know..." She frets, tugging nervously at the sleeve of her cloak. "But it was a bit of a trick question. I couldn't remember if the first Howler that he ever received was on the fourteenth of June, 1968, or the fifteenth!"

I groan, knowing that we second year Slytherins have Defense Against the Dark Arts class tomorrow, and Lockheart will probably hit us with the same quiz. I don't know (or care) anything about his personal life near as much as Hermione does, and so a failing grade seems to be staring me dead in the eyes. That's alright though, as I'm one of the top students in every other subject.

"How's Harry doing with Quiddich this year?" I ask amiably, as we stroll arm in arm towards the Quiddich pitch.

"Great, I hope! Ron's hurrying over to watch him practice, and I thought that I'd join them. Would you like to come?" She grins; her long, fluffy, hair fluttering behind her in the light breeze.

I nod eagerly, quickening my pace a bit to match hers. "Definitely! I was actually planning on heading over. James is the Slytherin keeper, you know." I bow my head with a bit of a giggle, stroking my braid.

"Oh, yeah! How is he, anyway? I'll freely admit that if I had to date a Slytherin, he'd be my one, and only, choice. You're quite lucky- all the other girls are left to choose between Flint, Goyle, Crabbe, and Malfoy. I heard that Flint had to repeat a year a Hogwarts!" She looks utterly scandalized, although I'm not surprised; the Slytherin Quiddich team captain has fewer brains than a pebble.

"Well, there would always be Zabini." I joke, shrugging dismissively as we enter the Quiddich pitch. I definitely feel like Hermione couldn't be more right. "Hey, Harry!" my eyes fall on his figure, and Hermione and I race towards him, our hair swinging rhythmically behind us.

Ron has already joined Potter, and the two of them look perfectly aggravated. It only takes a second for me to figure out why. Standing tall, dressed in dashing green Quiddich robes, and wearing a sickeningly smug expression, Draco Malfoy practically exudes an aura of sneering triumph as he swings a brand-new broom from hand to hand. My mouth drops open, but I manage to shut it before I make too much of a fool of myself.

"As I was saying," Malfoy drawls very loudly, leaning on his broomstick. "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

I'm not much of a Quiddich fan, but anyone who knows anything about the wizarding world would be envious of the Slytherin team's new brooms. I feel quite torn; unsure if I should side with my friends, or my house. I nervously finger my green and silver scarf, as Draco continues on his rant.

"Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them."