Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Thirty-Four

Well, nothing went downhill immediately.

But nothing particularly good happened, either.

Harry and Ron returned to Hogwarts after Christmas break seeming even angrier at me, and I couldn't figure out why.

But to be honest, I didn't care much about it anymore. If they wanted to continue to give me the cold shoulder for something as stupid as making fun of their Quidditch practice, fine. I wouldn't try anymore. I was prepared to quit Dumbledore's Army just to prove to them that I didn't care anymore.

But, of course, I wouldn't — I was learning way too much to quit.

January passed, and February came and went just as quickly. Valentines Day seemed years ago by the time March rolled around, and by then, Harry was no longer a public enemy amongst the students. He'd shared his story from the night Cedric died with the world — I'd read the published article myself in the Quibbler.

Apparently, the author Rita Skeeter had interviewed him during the trip to Hogsmeade, but I hadn't seen him there at all — Draco and I had gone together since it was Valentine's Day, and the only thing on my mind that day had been him.

Draco wasn't pleased with the article in the Quibbler; Harry had named Mr. Malfoy as a Death Eater. He couldn't openly contradict Harry over it, however, since he didn't want to admit he'd read the article.

I told him he was making too big a deal of it, and that if he wanted to say something to Harry, he should just say it. But Draco merely rolled his eyes and sighed grumpily.

I wondered if Draco had known his father was a Death Eater — I certainly hadn't — but I didn't want to ask in case I made him angry; he seemed to be getting angry more often lately.

Umbridge was in a foul mood too, but she couldn't punish anyone for reading the article when she never caught anyone in the act — the students were too smart for old Umbridge, and she never found a single copy of the Quibbler.

Just when things seemed to be cooling off, the worst happened.

We were learning Patronuses in the D.A. when an ugly little house elf appeared, looking positively fearful. He tried to tell Harry something, and after a short moment of trying to understand the stuttering, quivering elf, horror spread across Harry's face.

It was Umbridge — she'd found out about the D.A.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Harry bellowed to the motionless, terrified people surrounding him. "RUN!"

Everyone pelted toward the exit at once, shoving one another as they tried to get away. I was pushed to the ground by a boisterous Hufflepuff boy whom I definitely disliked, and I had to curl into a ball to cower away as people scrambled over me.

When I could finally get to my feet again, I knew I'd be too late in trying to escape, but I tried anyway, sprinting out of the Room of Requirement and into the hall.

I turned a corner and ran down the corridor, deciding on heading to the library, which was the closest place to hide. I might've made it if my bracelet from Draco hadn't slipped off my wrist and clinked against the stone floor.

I turned back for it, grabbing it from the ground and whirling on my heel to continue sprinting down the corridor.

But as soon as I stood up, a thick arm caught me around the chest, and my feet went flying out from beneath me.

I crashed back into what felt like a wall of flesh as the arm yanked me in, pressing me against their chest and locking their arm into place against my neck.