Life without danger is a waste of oxygen

Hermione awoke with a banging headache. She struggled to remember what had happened the night before. 'Draco was being nice to me and we had some wine. Too much wine. And...Oh my God! We kissed!' Hermione was so embarrassed she did not want to go out and face him. However, she knew that she could not stay in her room all day as she had classes to go to and Head Girl duties to begin.

Draco was dressed and ready and waiting for Hermione in the common room. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so excited and nervous. It had taken him twenty minutes to do his hair this morning instead of the usual ten minutes and he still had no idea what he was going to say to her. He knew that what he was feeling must be special because Malfoys were never lost for words.

"Ready for breakfast?" he asked her when she finally came down.

"Umm, no. I have a terrible headache." She looked around the room trying to avoid eye-contact.

"Ah yes, last night," Draco smirked. He started to walk over to her to pick up from where they had left off. It was going against everything he had ever been taught, but last night he had not been able to get her off his mind.

"Look, let's just forget about what happened last night," she said, before he reached her. "I guess we both just had too much to drink and things got a bit ridiculous."

Hermione was very embarrassed at the thought that she'd kissed Malfoy, of all people. Draco felt rejected. Hermione was obviously so embarrassed about an almost-kiss.

"I hope you can forgive me for last night so we can still be friends," she said, reaching out and touching his arm.

"Don't touch me, Granger," he hissed, his eyes suddenly going cold. Draco stormed out of the room before Hermione could reply.

********************************

Ron and Harry were already seated in the Great Hall when she arrived.

"Move up, Ginny," Ron said as he pushed his sister down so Hermione could sit with them. Ginny scowled into her breakfast.

"So, Hermione," Ron continued, "will we be having any balls this year? I bought new dress robes over summer. You should see me in them." He winked at her.

"Well actually, I was going to suggest we hold a Halloween ball."

"Sounds great." Ron said. "So, we can go together?"

"Oh, Ron, I'm sorry. Dumbledore explained to Draco and me that we would have to go together to all social events this year."

"What? Why?"

"To put on a united front as Head Boy and Head Girl, or something to that effect."

"Oh, well, we can still dance and hang out together once we're there."

"Of course. That will be great, won't it, Harry?"

Ron looked thunderous.

"So what lessons do you guys have today?" Hermione asked them.

"Well, we have Potions first thing and then after lunch, Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry replied. "I wonder who the new teacher is."

"We had better hurry. We can't be late for Professor Snape," Hermione said as she gulped the last of her tea and hurried off to her room to collect her books. Ron also left to get his bag, leaving Harry with Ginny.

"Ginny, if the Halloween ball goes ahead, would you like to go with me?" Harry wiped his sweaty hands on his robes under the table as he asked her.

"As a back up in case the girl you really want to take isn't interested?"

"No, of course not. I mean, you and I go together, properly."

"Like on a date?"

"Yeah. Only if you want to, though."

"Who else have you asked?" Ginny looked suspiciously at him.

"No one. I've just heard about the ball myself, remember?"

"Okay, I'll go with you."

"Great." Harry could not contain his smile. "So I'll see you at lunch, right?"

"Actually, we have Potions together."

"How come?"

"I've been doing very well in Potions. Dumbledore seems to think that I have a flair for it, so Snape has reluctantly agreed to allow me to skip a year. I am under strict instruction to get consistently high grades; otherwise, they drop me."

"That's great Ginny. I'll walk you there."

*******************

"Today's potion, which you will all be brewing, is the Unctuous Unction potion," Professor Snape called out to the class. "Can anyone tell me what this potion is for?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air but Snape just ignored her.

"Upon giving it to someone to drink, the drinker believes you are his best friend," Draco said lazily, without even bothering to put up his hand.

"Very good. Twenty points to Slytherin. Ingredients are in the cupboard and you will all be working individually. I don't want to hear a word from anybody."

The class got about their work. It was a very difficult potion and was supposed to take roughly two and a half hours out of the three-hour lesson to do. Ginny, however, finished an hour early. Snape was amazed, even though he hid it well on his face. He walked over and inspected the potion; it was nearing perfect.

"Not bad," he said. "Go to the library and research the uses of rat's liver in potions." Ginny stood there looking at him. Was he not even going to reward or congratulate her?

"What is wrong with you child? Do you want a medal or something? GO!" Ginny turned and fled out of the door. "The rest of you get on with it, and I do not want to be interrupted. Something you would like to say, Potter?" The corner of Snape's lip curled upwards as he noticed Harry's face turning red in anger.

"No, sir," replied Harry.

"Well then, take that angry glare off your face and get on with your work."

****************

After the Potions lesson, Hermione pulled Harry and Ron to one side.

"I have some news from Professor Dumbledore. Shall we have lunch in my common room so that we can discuss it?"

"Sure," they replied.

When they reached Hermione's common room they checked to make sure that Draco was not around.

"So what's the news?" Harry asked her.

"He wants us to begin our target practice with daggers."

"But they're muggles' weapons. Why does he want us to use them?" Ron asked her.

"Think about it Ron--they're small, light and if thrown properly can kill someone from a distance. They can also be used to stop someone running away from you."

"So when do we start training, Hermione?" asked Ron.

"Tonight. Come to the Room of Requirement at 8pm."

"This is really real, isn't it?" Harry said. "If either of you change your mind, I will understand. You're under no obligation to do all of this."

"Neither are you," Ron replied.

"Yes I am. I have to do this, and I had to accept that a long time ago. Anyone of us could die, all of us could die. You've both got families who need you alive and well. All my family is dead."

"You've got Sirius," pointed out Hermione.

"He hasn't been in touch for almost a year and who knows where he is or if he's okay."

"You know he can't write, Harry. It's just too dangerous. Are you--do you ever get scared?"

"I guess. It's just, a lot of pressure."

"You can say that again," said Ron.

"Listen, Harry. We're your family now. If we're going to die, then we die together," Hermione said. "We fight together and we die together. If we do nothing, then innocent people will keep dying. I for one believe that giving up my life is worth it if it will save others. Let's just ensure that we train properly because it will be a waste if we go in unprepared."

"You're right, Hermione, as usual. Thanks," said Harry. He looked across at Hermione and then Ron. His two best friends would be with him to the end. That was all the courage he needed. The three sat silently for a few moments taking it all in.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Hey, I hate to keep you all from this little homework club but this is my common room."

"Get lost, Malfoy," Ron said, holding his wand out at him.

"No," Hermione called out. "There will be no fighting in here. Ron, Harry, thank you, I'll see you later." Before either of them could reply she had pushed them out, seeing the opportunity to approach Draco about something.

"I had an idea that we should throw a Halloween ball. What do you think?" Hermione asked Draco.

"Not interested."

"Well, it would be from both of us as Head Boy and Girl."

"Fancy dress?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Dancing?"

"Definitely."

"Food and non-alcoholic drinks?"

"Certainly."

"Yep, not interested."

"Draco, please, just think about it." Hermione stared up at him.

Draco was still very angry and upset with her for humiliating him this morning. Looking down into her big brown eyes and hearing her say his name melted his heart.

"Anything," he whispered without looking away from her eyes.

"What did you just say?" she asked him.

Shit, did I just say that at loud? "If I say yes to this thing, will we have to go together?"

"Dumbledore will expect us to. If you want though, when we get there I'll go off with my friends and leave you with yours."

"Well, I suppose I could give you just one dance. Do you know your measurements? I'll order our costumes tomorrow."

"You'll order them? I am perfectly capable of finding a costume of my own, thank you very much."

"If you think pulling a bed sheet over your head and cutting a couple of eyes out is a costume then you are sadly mistaken."

"But..."

"And what's more, you are not going to the ball with just anybody. You're going with a Malfoy, and Malfoys do not do sloppy!"

Hermione tried to stifle a giggle.

"Now, do you have your measurements or don't you?"

"Of course not."

Draco tutted at her before saying, "Accio tape measure." A measuring tape flew out from Draco's room where it started wrapping itself around Hermione. It began calling out comments, while Hermione screeched and tried to pull away. The tape measure only tightened its grip.

"Oh, this thigh's a bit chubby, can't be a Malfoy with those thighs," it called out in a haughty voice. "No, certainly not a Malfoy, not with this huge thunderbutt! Nice breasts though, firm and supple, signs of youthfulness. Small waist granted, however you've obviously never heard of a gym."

Draco could not stop smirking.

"So, ever worn a corset?" he asked her.

"A corset? Who are we going as?"

"Well, I am going as Sir William Fortegee. He lived over 400 years ago and would throw the most exquisite parties. Halloween was his favourite as he would bring out his Diamond Dogs, just to ensure everybody had a good time."

"So, if you're going as him, who am I going as?"

"My bitch," Draco smirked.

"I don't think so, Draco. Do you really think that I would degrade myself like that?"

"Suit yourself. I'll order your costume just the same, but if you insist on being stubborn, there's always your bed sheet. Now, I'm starving, do you think there'll be any food left?"

"I don't know."

"Right, well I'll see you in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Hang on, we need to arrange a prefects' meeting this week to sort out duties and rotas."

"Tonight?"

"Can't, I have too much work to do." Draco raised his eyebrow questioningly as she'd only had one lesson. "What about tomorrow night?"

"Fine. Time?"

"Straight after tea. We could use in here."

"Okay. See you."

**********

"Right, in you come." The man ushered the students into the classroom. "My name is Sergeant Larkin, but you will all call me either Sir or Sergeant. Now, does anyone know anything about the army?"

Hermione's hand shot up.

"You there," he said.

"The few times we have had any serious civil unrest within the magical world, the aurors have..."

"No, no, I'm talking about the muggle army. Training tactics."

Hermione's hand shot up into the air again.

"Yes, girl?"

"Each nation has its own troops, in which tactics and weapons differ. The basic principals of the training, though, are the same. They are allowed no political rights for they swear allegiance to whomever is leader of the country. The aim is to push troops to their physical and mental limits repeatedly, until they either improve or drop out, except they sign up for a minimum of three years, so there is no dropping out. They are broken and re-molded to the model soldier."

"Good. Now, I have come from a military background, and I have military teaching methods. Your lessons with me will not just be challenging, but I will push you so far that you will be begging me to end it all. Lessons here will be like boot camp."

Draco shot a disdainful look at their new teacher.

"You, boy," Larkin said to him. "What one thing is most important in a duel?"

"Speed of course, but one also needs some good hexes."

"Do you have speed, boy?"

Draco did not like being called "boy" by anyone. "Faster than you, old man," he challenged him.

"And do you know any good hexes, Boy?"

"Enough to put you in the hospital wing for a month." Draco glared at him defiantly.

"Take your best shot," the teacher dared him, neither one of them breaking eye contact. "Well, what are you waiting for? Are you scared? Do you need me to phone up Mummy and Daddy for a little support? Like the little boy you are, are you scared of a real challenge?"

The class sat back in shock from what Sergeant Larkin was saying. Draco's hand gripped more tightly around his wand and his eyes narrowed.

"I asked you what you were waiting for you sad, little, pathetic excuse for a..."

Draco very quickly raised his wand to curse him but the wand was above his head, floating in the air. The class all looked at Sergeant Larkin, whose wand was pointing at Draco. They stared at their teacher in awe. How had he managed to take his wand out of his pocket more quickly than Draco was able to raise his from his side? And how had he disarmed Draco without saying a word?

Draco looked furiously at him before reaching up and grabbing his wand.

"Accio wand," Larkin called out, but nothing happened. "I am impressed. Take a seat Mr..."

"Malfoy."

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy." He raised his eyebrows. "Take a seat, please."

Draco had considered storming out. However, Sergeant Larkin had called him by his name as a sign of respect, so Draco decided to stay and see what he could gain from the class.

"Two things I want to tell you," Larkin's voice boomed out to the class. "Firstly, I want to tell you what I wanted to show you from that little 'experiment', and secondly, why Master Malfoy has gained my respect, for the time being, at least. You, Chubby." He pointed at Neville. "What was that little experiment about?"

"Umm, I..."

"Spit it out, child!"

"Well, umm." Neville looked around at his fellow Gryffindors for some help.

"Bah!" the teacher shouted. "I see you'll need some serious work done. Now, drop and give me twenty."

"Umm, twenty what, sir?"

"Push-ups, you bloody fool. What's the matter with you?"

"Sir," Neville began bravely, "sir, what's a push-up?"

Sergeant Larkin's face went deep red as he began to shake with anger.

"OUT!" he screamed at them all. "All of you get out now and onto that bloody Quidditch pitch so I can teach you ugly little slackers a lesson or two."

Nobody moved; they all just stared at him in shock.

"NOW!" he screamed. Suddenly everyone jumped up and began making their way outside.

"Right," he said once they were all on the Quidditch pitch. "You're all going to do exactly as I say, no questions asked. I say jump and you'll all jump like you've never jumped before. Get it?"

A few people nodded.

"I can't hear you! Do you get it?"

"Yes," the class replied.

"YES WHAT?" Sergeant Larkin screamed at them.

"Yes, sir!" they shouted.

"You!" he pointed at Pansy Parkinson. He then walked over to her and leaned down so that his nose was a centimeter from hers. Feeling that he had her attention, he then shouted, "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU CHEAP, SMALL-TOWN TART? HOW DARE YOU ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TO ME? YOU ARE THE SHIT UNDER MY SHOE, BUT DON'T WORRY, LASSIE, I'LL SCRAPE YOU RIGHT OFF! NOW DO SIX LAPS OF THIS QUIDDITCH PITCH AND DON'T YOU DARE SLACK OFF. GO! GO! GO!"

Pansy sobbed loudly and ran off to do her laps around the pitch.

"Now," Sergeant Larkin continued, "let's try again. What was I trying to show you all in the classroom?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted.

"Raise your hand, boy, if you have something to say."

Harry raised his hand.

"You, boy, with the scruffy hair." Larkin acted as though he's just noticed him.

Draco smirked.

"You were trying to provoke Malfoy in order to see how fast he was," Harry said.

"Yes. Speed is very important, as well as a few other factors. When faced with an enemy, if they are smart, they will kill you straight away. Let me tell you, most of them are not smart. If you can delay them by talking to them, it could save your life. Insults too, are very useful. They prepare you. How many of you noticed Master Malfoy's hand gripping his wand tighter or his eyes narrowing? This will all tell you when the person is about to strike. Any questions?"

About ten hands shot up into the air.

"You, Freckly." He pointed at Ron, who turned red with embarrassment.

"How did you disarm Malfoy without speaking?"

"Practice. It is ultimate to be at one with your wand. You start with saying the spell with feeling to get magic out of your wand. The next step is to say spells casually. The third step is to be able to whisper spells, for your wand to pick up. Finally, just strong thoughts can be enough. It is a difficult challenge, which requires a lot of energy. If, by the end of the year only one person can do it perfectly, I will have been a more useful teacher than all your rest put together. Next question, you with the bad side burns."

"How did you get your wand out so quickly?" Seamus asked resentfully.

"Again, that is to do with technique and skill. In the muggle army we were taught with guns. You can have excellent aim, but unless you can pull your gun out quick enough you're dead. You learn to stay alive with skills like that. I want you all to practice this for it is an essential part of this course.

"I now want to tell you why Master Malfoy has gained my respect. He has a spell on his wand, which ensures that no other wizard or witch may take control of his it without his say-so. It is a very powerful spell, which I do not believe is something taught in schools. Did you put that spell on your wand?"

"Yes, sir," Malfoy replied.

"Can anyone tell me the advantages of such a spell? Yes, Freckly?"

"It will prevent your enemies from stealing your wand and being able to use it," Ron replied.

"Good, and the disadvantages?"

"What happens if Malfoy is ill or unconscious? Whomever is with him will not be able to help him if they have no wand, nor defend him or themselves," Hermione said.

"Yes, good. When you're presented with a situation, you do not jump to a decision. You must weigh up the negative with the positive and then come to a conclusion. You must also learn to feel your gut instinct, because it is always right. These are some of the other things you will be learning in my lessons.

"Only one person in this class has any respect from me. You must all earn your respect from me. I look out in front of me and all I see is a worthless bunch of pissing kids. While you're all in this state I'm not going to bother to get to know you. I'll simply call you whatever first springs to mind. You must prove to me that you are good, honest men and women. We will also be having several field trips this year, so prepare to get dirty. Oh, and one last thing before class finishes. I suggest you all do some research on what military training really is, because if I ask someone again to complete a task, like push-ups, and they don't know what I am talking about, there will be hell to pay! I suggest you all get together and tell Missy over there what you've learnt today. You're a team. If one person fails, you've all failed. Now get out of my sight."

**********

After the Dark Arts lesson, Hermione hurried to the library to check out some books on military training for muggles to study before training that evening.

When she arrived at the Room of Requirement just before 8pm, she found Professor Dumbledore waiting for her.

"Ah, Miss Granger. I can't stay long, just came to give you this." He handed over to her a briefcase and then walked off.

When Harry and Ron arrived the three of them opened the briefcase together, to find three small daggers, each with a small, silver blade and a wooden handle. The room of requirement was set out for target practice with target ranges set up on the walls and large diagrams of how to throw knives for the perfect aim. Silently, they all took a dagger and began practicing. No one felt able to joke or make small talk, for they were training for something serious, which was probably going to cost them their lives.

At 11pm, they finally called it a day and agreed to meet again in two days, same time, same place. Once they had perfected their aim, Dumbledore would be able to give them another task to do.

**********

"Muggle-land," Hermione said to her portrait. She walked through into her common room to find Draco sitting on the couch as though he had been waiting for her.

"Where have you been?" he asked her, trying to sound casual.

"The library," she said. "I picked something up for you."

Draco looked up in interest as she went into her bag and pulled out a book, searching through it to find the right page.

"Here." She thrust the book under his nose excitedly.

Draco's eyes quickly scanned the page. It was the spell to conjure whiskey. It read: 'The perfect gentleman's drink, not to be shared with women. Simply point your wand and say: Uisce Beatha.'

"It means 'water of life'," said Hermione. "Ridiculous, if you ask me. It make take you a while to get it, and I don't want you to think that I am encouraging you in any way because drinking is not only illegal as you're underage, but also very unhealthy."

"Then why did you get this for me? I've looked in the school library and the one at home and never found anything." Draco stared at her questioningly.

"Well, I guess sometimes you just need to know where to look. I found it because I wanted to do something nice for you. I know you hate me, but you're making my life a lot easier by being civil, and I'm really grateful, truly I am."

Hermione looked up at him, and once again, he felt his heart melt.

"Why do you think I hate you?" he asked her.

"Because ever since I've been at Hogwarts you've called me names like Mudblood and buck-teeth and generally tried to make life hell for me."

"Oh, well, I guess that might give you reason to believe I hate you. Though you shouldn't take things so seriously."

Hermione smiled at him and fetched a glass from her room.

"I admit I did try conjuring it, but I didn't have much luck. Will you try?" she asked him.

Draco pointed his wand at the glass and quietly said, "Uisce beatha." The whiskey trickled out of his wand and into the glass. He tasted it and it was beautiful.

"I'm impressed. I practiced for ages and still couldn't do it. That was amazing, Draco."

He turned and smiled at her. Their eyes met and they both stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Eventually, they started to lean in to kiss. Her heart beating terribly fast and her knees weakening, Hermione reached out to steady herself, only to knock the glass over. She immediately pulled away, embarrassed by her own clumsiness, and went to clean up the mess.

"Umm, goodnight, Draco," she said before running up to her room and shutting the door.

Draco stared after her, wishing he were able to follow her in. 'This is not good,' he thought to himself. 'I'm a Malfoy, and she's a muggle-born. Look at me, she actually has me saying things like muggle-born. She's not worthy of me. Though, that was so sweet, finding that spell for me. No one has ever done anything before for me because they want to; it's usually because they have to.' Draco sighed and went up to bed.