Undefeated

10:28 DADA:

Neville and Harry greeted Ron and Hermione before she looked back at Ron.

"So, are you looking forward to your first DADA lesson with Fleur, Ron?" Hermione asked, a grin beginning to take place. It had been years since Fleur was mentioned but Ron felt several organs tightening anyway.

He looked at her.

"Right, so you still think I like her?" he asked, pretending he had no interest in the very subject.

"Yes, I think you still like her," a frizz of Hermione's scattered hair brushed Ron's cheek. The students dispersed in different directions now.

"I don't," shrug. "Are you looking forward? You seem to have lost all springs for Defense Against the Dark Arts after you found out Lockhart was a fake," from the edges of Ron's eyes he could see Neville brushing past a few first years, head down. Apparently the ever-so-kind Hermione also spotted Neville. Ron was a trifle edgy. Hermione always spotted Neville like a red dot on a white page.

"How are you, Neville?" Hermione asked. He looked up with such speed it looked as if he'd been stabbed in the stomach by a nine inch blade. Ron curled five fingers tightly around his wand. Avada Kedavra and this sack of fat would be gone. Hermione was merrily chatting away with Ron's fresh enemy, their paces slowing as if their little conversation was their main priority. Harry was sucked somewhere deep in the crowd behind them, heading to the first DADA lesson also.

*

In the fifth year, DADA was destroyed by the thin and pale Professor Onduri. They hadn't learned anything, and everyone suspected Dumbledore picked that up too. That's probably why he wasn't here this year. Sacked. Gone. Fired. To some extreme, maybe dead.

When the class entered the room this year, a lot of gasps were audible and a lot of muttering heard. The room was covered in silver. It was also a bit dark, as the windows were covered by smooth, long silver curtains. A great, elaborately decorated chandelier hanged above them, radiating a faint, orange light. Around the room hung moving posters of dangerous creatures and different phases of the moon. The annoying habit about the creatures in the posters, were that they loved to growl and howl all the time. The rows of desks and chairs were placed at the centre of the room. Harry looked down at the floor and was surprised that it was also silver, with a few glittery stars just clearly seen.

Harry had saved seats for the others at the back of the room, though Neville rudely dropped down onto Ron's seat. Ron silently sat next to a new Slytherin girl whom knifed a sharp overall look at him.

The room was filled with talk, every corner. Ron kept one bulging eye and one pinked ear on Neville and Hermione, even when the room's talking dropped to a low whisper. Someone sniffed. Malfoy screwed the golden colored lid back onto his bottle of ink. Silence.

"Good Morning, clazz," the room broke into scattered whispers about her accent, and then faded. Fleur wore a V-necked dress, with her silvery blonde hair pouring over her shoulders.

Even though Ron had told Hermione he didn't like Fleur anymore, a good half wasn't true. He gazed at her, Adam's apple rising and falling. Harry could hear Parvati muttering something about wearing that kind of dress was inappropriate when teaching sixth years. Especially when there were boys.

"Az you all may know zat I had once zaid- said that I waz going to come to 'Ogwarts to teach- improving my English," Fleur began.

Throughout the lesson Fleur taught the class how to defend themselves against Wobble-cheeks; which were green balls of fluff that can temporarily paralyze anyone who threatens them. Draco Malfoy seemed like the only person to have trouble with the Wobble-cheeks, as he kept throwing nasty insults at his. Even Ron found the fluffy green balls easy to tame.

"Wicked!" he whispered as his Wobble-cheek snored softly on his desk, the green ball lifting and dropping.

Toward the end of the lesson a glossy display of sweat was on every boy's forehead. Three quarters driven out by Fleur in her dress, the other quarter from Wobble-cheeks. Only Hermione, Neville and Draco's Wobble-cheeks weren't tamed. Hermione's kept paralyzing her- making her look like she was moving in slow motion. Neville's kept jumping around on his desk, mocking his slow speed. Draco eventually got so fed up that he started to rip the tufts of soft green fur off it; but in the end even though his Wobble-cheek was all bold, it was tamed and asleep.

The lesson concluded with Fleur locking up all the Wobble-cheeks and saying a few words of comfort to Hermione- who had been unable to tame her little monster. Neville had actually succeeded in the very end.

"A bit odd that Hermione didn't get it tamed, don't you think?" Ron murmured.

"Yeah. Strange, isn't it?" Harry replied, wand securely in his pocket as he wiped his forehead. They waited for Hermione to come out.

"Hey you guys," Hermione said shakily as she joined the group with Neville trudging along behind them.

Harry and Ron said hi back and suddenly she burst into tears, clutched her books tighter and looked away. Never had she failed at anything. Ron breathed out silently and looked at Harry. Draco walked past cursing, robes scattered with green fur. Ron swore Hermione looked up quickly as he had pushed by.

*

The Great Hall was filled with chatters and babbles as they sat down on the Gryffindor table. Harry dug in on his lunch, when Ginny joined them and sat next to him again.

"Hi guys!" Ginny greeted. They all mumbled a 'hi' except Hermione, who was eating a ham sandwich between sobs and holding crinkled tissues Neville had given her straight from his robe pocket.

"Hey what's wrong, Hermione?" Ginny asked, inching closer to Harry. Hermione shook her head and answered 'nothing', before the unexpected Malfoy walked past Gryffindor table holding a polished new Dragoness- the newest broomstick. Ron's mouth fell open.

"Where'd you get that?" he said awkwardly, losing the function to chew.

"Where do you think? Some junk shop populated only by the Weasleys?" Draco said in his dry I'm-losing-interest way. Ron was momentarily too shocked to have one of those one-minute outbursts Hermione disapproved of.

"Quit showing off, Malfoy," Harry defended. Ginny was watching Harry proudly.

Draco's sharp glance swept over Hermione and he tossed his broom from one gloved hand to the other. Hermione looked up from her teary face and caught Malfoy's eye. Quickly, he looked away and swallowed nervously.

"Malfoy leave us alone," Hermione told him through a sob. Surprisingly, he looked at both his bodyguards on either side of him, smirked for all to see, and walked away. Ron lifted one eyebrow.

"Bit strange, since when did he listen to you?"

"Be thankful that he's gone now," Harry muttered. Ron shrugged carelessly and took another bite out of his limp sandwich. Ginny wiped her mouth clean and cleared her throat.

"Since you're the new Quidditch captain, Harry," she started, nudging Harry and grinning.

"Stop that," was what he would have said, but instead kept a usual straight face and crossed his arms on the table.

"When are you going to start training?" she finished, licking the remains of her sandwich off her teeth. Harry petulantly smiled and ignored Ginny's unbearable stare at him.

"Hopefully this afternoon if I can get the

(Stop looking at me that way, Ginny)

bookings for the fields before Malfoy," Harry was Gryffindor's Quidditch captain this year, and Draco was Slytherin's. Since Oliver Woods left, Ron had been Gryffindor's keeper, Dennis, Colin Creevy and Seamus Finnigan were the new chasers and the two beaters were two students from seventh year. Surprisingly, Ron was very good playing keeper.

Ron headed off with Harry to book the fields to practice that afternoon leaving Ginny and Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table. Ginny watched Harry's retreating back and sighed before facing her friend. Hermione seemed fine now, her flow of tears now just a track down her face.

"You okay?" Ginny asked. It had to be asked. Hermione nodded, carving the thought in her head and engrossing her eyes blankly at a used napkin. Ginny sprinkled some Knuts onto the table and counted them quickly before shoveling them back into her rusty can, placing a scratched metal lid on top and held it down by stretching a thinning rubber band over the tin can.

"I'm going to get my stuff from Transfiguration- I forgot them there (false smile from Hermione). Okay see you!" she galloped off, leaving Hermione to collect her things and get ready for the next lesson herself.

*

"We need more Aurors, Cornelius. Our current number is almost entertainment," Dumbledore said quiet flatly. Fudge drained his cup of Butterbeer and licked his lips. He then produced a blue handkerchief from the folds of his black robe and wiped his mouth modestly.

"You have to understand, Albus, that because of their intensive training, it-"

"I know, Cornelius. I am aware of the time and cost to train the Aurors. But in our position," Dumbledore blinked behind his half-moon spectacles, "We have no other choice."

Fudge returned his blink. "I think we have already popped our original agreement," Dumbledore's expression didn't darken, nor did it hold anything else.

"In terms of the number of Aurors," Fudge resumed, having Dumbledore right under his thumb.

"Fudge, this is not a dream anymore. We've already begun. And so we will finish it," Fudge poked the handkerchief back into his pocket.

"Alright, I'll see what I can arrange. But I have my doubts about just how many wizards are willing to give up their lives to work as an Auror. For that, we must give them time to consider," Dumbledore nodded sincerely.

"I expect the students are most alert of our situation?" Fudge asked, eyebrows up, forehead crinkled. A moment's pause. Then:

"No. I did not want to alarm them. Besides, Voldemort has not a clue right now. Best we make it stay that way. Younger and less experienced student's sensory would be marred and that may result in the news spreading all over- and eventually to Voldemort's hide," Fudge dropped his eyebrows, smiled openly and swallowed nervously when Voldemort was mentioned.

"I best be off. If you think something's wrong, or if you change your mind-"

"My mind is set," Dumbledore cut in. Fudge nodded,

"You know where to find me."

Standing up along with Dumbledore, the two wizards shook hands. Albus smiled.

"You have been of much help to us all, Cornelius," Albus told him.

"I am the Minister. Well then, good evening to you, Albus."

"You too Cornelius, I have absolute faith in you. Good evening."

Fudge stepped out and with a few steps, vanished.

*

Snape prowled around the room, watching every student wiggle their quills frantically. He stopped in front of Harry's table. Knitting his eyebrows dangerously he scanned Harry's notes. Snatching up the parchment and examining the words, he shook his head then looked at Mr. Potter.

"Does this really amuse your sixteen year old mind, Potter? 'Snape is a dickhead'," the teacher fixed his slanting eyes at Harry. Suddenly he slammed the notes onto Harry's desk but Snape's isosceles triangle-like eyes did not blink.

"Thirty points from you, Mr. Potter," he stalked away to another desk. Everyone continued their note taking without faltering.

Once the lesson ended Snape gave them the usual ton of homework while everyone backed their chairs, talked, collected their books and ultimately made their way out the dungeons.

The three friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione all gathered their books and headed for Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid.

"That was way wicked, Harry. Even though you got caught by Snape- it was wicked," Ron gave Harry the impressed look. Harry's eyebrows jumped at Ron before glum silence fell over them.

When they got to Hagrid's hut they found him hunched over party of moving slimy beasts. Pansy gave a small gasp.

"Oh hey class! C'mere, I gotta show yer all this! C'mon, don't be afraid! They won't hurt a fly!" Hagrid led them all to where he was a minute ago. What they saw made them gag. It was what looked like a gigantic grey slug with six, hairy claws. It had a yellow-white set of pointy teeth and two eyes on either side of its slimy head. Ron heard Hermione choke. Hagrid clipped both his large hands on his waist.

"These, are wha' they call Yurdles. Spanish Yurdles. They ain't dangerous, them. All yer' have ter' learn abou' them is that they like a bit o' light. So, give em' a bit o' light and you'll see you have full control o' them. C'mon, give em' a try. Each student gets one," once each student had found themselves the smallest one possible, they took out their wands.

"Lumos!" Dean Thomas shouted. The wand threw up a blaze of aimed light at the Yurdle's left eye. It gave a gurgled but loud yelp.

"Um, Hagrid?" Dean said, slewing slightly. Hagrid had been watching others attempt to control their Yurdles; his face set proudly, seeing others struggle to do what he did best. He turned around and saw a stricken Dean uncertainly standing in front of his dazed Yurdle. Hagrid shone Dean an impressed smile from behind the bushes of beard.

"Ah, there yer' have it! Great! Everyone c'mere! Look at wha' Mr. Thomas has done!" most of the students abandoned their Yurdles right away and huddled around Hagrid, Dean and the Yurdle.

Draco, distant and isolated from the bundled crowd, bellowed:

"Lumos!" down at his own puffed Yurdle. The clean cone of white light hit the beast and it gave a surrendering yelp. He shared a smirk with the Yurdle and looked at Hagrid, who had his back to him and explaining excitedly about something the way he always did when it came to his classes. Draco's mind routinely threaded together one of those Malfoy ideas. The wand went back into his black robe pocket, and he jerked his head toward Hagrid.

"Go on, let's see what Hagrid's really taught you," the Yurdle looked up at him with two strangely defenseless eyes. Then slowly, the six haired claws each dug themselves toward Hagrid. Malfoy looked at it more expectantly.

"Faster, you idiot," the grey Yurdle picked up speed sincerely. The rear claws threw dry clods of dirt behind, the Yurdle got it's courage up and then launched itself at Hagrid's back. Front four claws shot up onto the half-giant's back before Hagrid turned around. Malfoy merged himself with the crowd.

"OY!" he roared when the Yurdle pierced well into his coat. It then snapped wildly at Hagrid then attempted a full teethed bite, which Hagrid thankfully avoided, or he would have been in the Wing by tomorrow. Draco had been careful to keep his complexion perfectly undisturbed while the Slytherins grinned and the Gryffindors watched worriedly.

"Who told yer' ter' do this?" Hagrid raved at the Yurdle, his coat now bearing grave stripes at the back and his hand torn at. Hermione stepped up.

"Incendio!" she yelled, pointing her wand at the Yurdle. It withered in the scorching flames and within seconds lay on the ground, puffing. All the indocile Yurdles had escaped by now and Draco sent a small sympathy look at his withering lump of grey.

Hagrid now turned his suddenly aged face at all of them.

"Who did this?" he fumed, spit catching onto his beard. Hermione looked at everyone too.

"It was Malfoy." Parvati accused, pointing the accusing finger at him. Draco turned, his face drawn down so a line traveled down each side of his nose, down to his mouth.

"Liar," he faced Hagrid, and looked at him serenely.

"I would never touch those things," a string of curled hair fell onto Hagrid's greasy forehead as he angled his head forward dangerously.

"Yer' know damn well you don't have ter' be in contact with em' to make em' do things!" Hagrid growled. Malfoy didn't step back.

"How would you know I made it sic you?" he said defensively.

Derivation for 'innocent until proven guilty'. Hagrid seemed to have dug it too. Nodding with some force, he stomped away, spent and drawn. For the rest of the lesson everyone looked for the Yurdles that had run away.

That afternoon, the Gryffindor Quidditch Team headed down to the fields for a practice. Harry had set out a new tactic for the game and then they practiced, the afternoon's crisp and slightly prickly breeze ushering the Yurdle scene from Harry and Ron's minds.

*

"Use her." The hooded figure croaked.

"Yes, Master. I will."

"I want to know everything."

"Yes, Master."

"Don't master me. Hurry up with your job,"

"Sorry, Master."

"Get out of here."

"Yes, Master."

*

It was raining that Saturday, and in the Gryffindor common room Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione sat. Ginny was rushing through history homework, while Hermione had her snorkel between pages of her extremely fat books.

Harry and Ron sat leisurely on the floor, throwing pumpkin pasties down their stomachs, and occasionally slipping the easy answer or two to Ginny. For once, Harry didn't mind Ginny's presence, as she was too consumed to be staring at him. The common room was not surprisingly packed, but not to the point when you couldn't even stretch out your legs. A few minutes later came a thick snap, then Hermione's voice.

"Guys I'm going down to the library, 'kay?" Ron turned lovingly to Hermione and popped another pumpkin pasty into his mouth.

"What for? Don't you have more then enough books already?" he asked. Hermione pursed her lips and looked around.

"I'm going to get a book... on Wobble-cheeks."

Both Harry and Ron grinned.

"Even that idiot Neville could tame them," Ron swallowed his pumpkin pasty.

"Shut up!" Hermione whispered before she bent down, took a pumpkin pasty and left.

By the time she got there, she was soaking wet. Quickly she muttered a spell and her clothes rinsed themselves. She tried to appear casual, as if she was just another person getting a book off the shelf to help her with her homework. She sat in a lonesome corner and started flicking through books.

A minute or so later, Malfoy stepped into the library. Not many people were in the library, except for some first years in a small puddle in one of the rows. He spotted Hermione instantly, the much teased about hair and the booking loving character.

Nervously he began to recite what he had to say when he edged silently up to her.

The rehearsal was cut short by Hermione. She stared at him, not saying a word. He kind of expected her to say something first, but since she didn't,

"Um... hi," he offered a one second smile, and then sat down on the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione had much curiosity. Draco saw the book she was holding. In bold gold writing, it read: Taming the Wobble-cheek.

"Suppose I asked you the same question," Draco smirked and looked down at her book again. She snapped it shut and replaced it before standing up to face him.

Draco dropped his proud smirk and replaced it with an uneasy expression.

"I came here," I came here... Draco wet his lips.

"So I can find you," doing gooood...

One of Hermione's straight eyebrows lifted.

"Yeah, because," calm down... Hermione watched, startled but expecting.

"Because... (GET IT OUT YOU LOSER!) because I like you, okay."

Full stop. He didn't yet see Hermione's expression, as he was cursing himself for doing such a bad job. (Fucked it up, you pussy) He looked up. Hermione sucked her lips inward, preventing a smile from erupting in front of Draco. Neither of the two said anything more, they were lost in their own fancy little worlds. A while later the first years scrambled out, and the rain patted down harder. Draco's robes whispered as he shrugged.

"So, what do you think Dumbledore's cooking up this year?" Draco asked casually. Hermione was dazed at the question.

"I don't know, but I've heard rumors that he was grouping up Aurors and-" she stopped. Draco was listening intently, and that made Hermione feel somehow wrong to tell him things about Dumbledore. After all, the Malfoys didn't have the brightest reputation in the wizarding world.

"Well yes. I've heard he was grouping up Aurors," Draco saw she was unwilling to tell him anymore. He stood up, slightly swaying as if he had squatted for the last hour or so.

"Okay then. Just curious- catch you 'round some time," he quickly walked out the library, without so much as a glimpse back at her. Hermione shook her head and pulled down the book she had been reading before Malfoy interrupted her.