Through Different Eyes

year five; of crushes and tears

"You are all here for one reason," the positivity dreadful witch spoke as she paced before the line of student. "To enforce the rules." The Inquisitorial Squad consisted of mostly Slytherin's, and Draco had signed up for two reasons: first, he would look like a bloody fool to all his friends if he didn't, and second because it would undoubtedly be amusing. His power as a prefect increased tenfold. Plus, he got to throw them off the scent of the Dumbledore's Army – a terrible name, really – which Hermione had told him all about. A little club of rebel students who actually wanted to learn defence against the Dark Arts.

"The students at this school have absolutely no discipline, and you are helping me carry some out. Twenty points to every student here."

Draco laughed at the angry look on Hermione's face when he told her.

"Twenty points to every student! That's appalling! If she wanted students to do her dirty work, she should at least use the prefects."

"And what would you do, then? You're literally the founder of the DA."

"Well yes, but it's not like she knows that. Besides, I would do exactly what you're doing." She raised her chin higher.

"It's not like you have a lot of extra time, really."

She narrowed her eyes at him, getting annoyed. "Okay, you know what, Draco -"

He backtracked, raising his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She mhm'ed, eyeing him and clearly not believing a word he said.

He stood a millisecond after she did and raced to the cover of the bookshelves.

"I swear, Draco!" His legs were longer and his speed excelled hers. He turned a corner and stilled, waiting for her to pass.

When she did he reached out and grabbed her and she yelled. They hobbled in circles, laughing now and still holding onto each other, before he shoved her away and ran again.

She yelled out again as she followed. "You slimy piece of-"

Draco was just about at the end of another isle when a tall, bony old woman stood in his way, indignant expression over her face. He halted and heard Hermione stop behind him as she turned the corner.

"Well," She asked after neither one said anything. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

They had forgotten where they were and who they were supposed to be as they made all that racket. Now they were caught and bound to detention. And exposure.

"We're sorry, Madame Pince," Hermione apologized hurriedly. "It won't happen again."

The woman eyed them ferociously. "Make sure it doesn't." Miraculously, she strode off without another word. Draco turned on his heel and gave her a bewildered look.

"Well... that was close."

She had to put a hand to her mouth to hold in her stunned laughter and he smiled, fear wearing off to make room for the humour of their carelessness.

"I cannot believe we did that!" They met in the middle of the isle and she was buried in his chest now, both from embarrassment and to muffle her giggles. "She didn't even seem to realize it was us, I mean, she knew it was us but not like-"

"But not like she knew how wrong it was for us to be together. The only reason she was so appalled was because we're always in here quietly." He couldn't hold in a quiet chuckle either.  So there was such thing as a neutral party in their case. Madam – what was it Hermione said, Pince? A peculiar name but Draco would try to remember it. She didn't care that they sat together, just that they were quiet. He briefly wondered if anyone else would have the same disinterest before Hermione snaked her arms around his waist. Then all thought of Madame Prince – it was Prince, right? – left his mind.