Bad Blood | Draco Malfoy

t w e n t y t w o

Draco

          I arrive just on time for our first Defence Against the Dark Arts class on Thursday morning, where there is only one available seat: next to de Lange.  Without making any eye contact with her, I sit down and pull out my books.  The tension between us is so thick it's almost unbearable.  I wish it wasn't like this, but it has to be.

          When I saw her at the World Cup with that French boy she used to be friends with, I hated it.  The way he kissed her hand and talked to her like they were such great friends was infuriating.  Everyone at that school treated her badly and she didn't deserve that.  Now that Beauxbatons students are arriving this year, she's going to have to deal with them here.  However, she seemed to buddy up to Enzo pretty nicely.  What's gonna happen when they all start talking to her like nothing ever happened?

          She's a pushover.  She needs to get ahold of herself.

          Professor Moody walks into the classroom and immediately writes his name upon the blackboard.  "Alastor Moody.  Ex Auror.  Your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."  He tells us gruffly.  "I've read the letter your old teacher Professor Lupin left and I've only got one thing to say: you're all behind - on curses, that is.  I've got a year to teach you all about dealing with Dark Magic -"

          "What, aren't you staying?"  Weasley interrupts.

          Moody's mechanical eye whizzes and lands upon the ginger boy.  "You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?  Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago."  The memory of me reading out the article about Weasel's dad and the events after replay in my mind. "Yeah, I'm just staying the year.  Special favour to Dumbledore... then I'm going back to retirement."

          Moody let out a forced laugh before continuing.  "So, let's get straight to it: curses.  They come in many strengths and forms.  Now, according to the Ministry, I'm not meant to show you what Dark Magic looks like until your in sixth year, but Professor Dumbledore has a higher opinion of your nerves and reckons you can manage.  I say that the sooner you learn, the better.  How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen?  A wizard who's about to preform a dark curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's going to do.  He isn't going to be nice and polite right to your face.  You need to be prepared for what's out there."

          Mira leans forward and props her elbows up against the table, her eyes watchful and intrigued.  When she notices me looking at her, she scowls.  "What do you want?"

          "I look in your direction and all of a sudden you think I'm staring at you?"  I defend myself.  "Self-centred much?"

          "You can talk, Ferret."

          "Sod off, de Lange."

          "And to be alert and watchful as well as prepared, Miss de Lange and Mr. Malfoy, you need to pay attention in class," Moody says rather loudly.  I tear my eyes from de Lange's and see the grouchy old man is staring at us as well as the whole class.  Mira and I both look at each other in embarrassment and shuffle further towards the end of our benches.

           "Back to what I was about to explain... do any of you know any of the three curses that are heavily punished by wizarding law?"

           Weasley raises his hand.  "Is the Imperius Curse one?"

          "Ah, yes, the Imperius Curse," Moody nods.  "Your father would know a lot about that one - it gave him a bit of trouble in the Ministry a few years ago."  The professor then drew his wand and opened a jar upon his desk, revealing a spider. Moody lets the spider sit upon his desk before he points his wand at the creature and says, "Imperio!"