Year Five - Chapter Four

There was a sudden sense of impending danger looming over my back. It wasn't the OWLs exams; those I would deal with. It wasn't even my Prefect duties; those I enjoyed. Potions with Snape was an interesting experience, one that went by without peculiar troubles. Even Ancient Runes was, if not easy, at the very least tolerable. Arithmancy was a cinch.

Yet the dread and the fear clutched my spine. I was expecting something to go wrong, I reckoned. I was expecting a low blow. I was mentally checking to ensure anyone in my immediate proximity didn't have their hands etched on, didn't suffer detentions from Umbridge, but all that I saw were students going about their daily lives.

Moody had made me paranoid. Umbridge was making me worried.

"You shut your mouth, Malfoy!" I heard the sound of an argument along the hallway, and came to a halt.

"What are you gonna do otherwise, Potter?" Draco sneered back.

My eyes went from them to the source of the contention. Something cold snapped inside my chest.

I began to near, their words ringing hollow in my ears.

"You think you can just go about giving detentions to whoever you want?" Harry snapped.

"I damn well do as I want, since I'm a Prefect," Draco retorted, "And I'll have you know, this brat's uniform was this dingy when I saw him."

The kid was a first year, a Gryffindor judging by the tie, and looked terrified. Someone had smudged something on his robes, or perhaps it had been a mistake during lunch. Whatever the circumstance, there was a rule infraction about keeping one's uniform proper. It just wasn't the kind of rule that Prefects were supposed to uphold unless extraordinary circumstances required it.

My blood was bubbling as I came to a halt in front of the two of them. Something had to be on my face, because Draco's words died in his throat.

Even Harry's temper seemed to come to a halt.

"You will both leave," I whispered in a low voice, "Now."

"Now listen here, Shade, Malfoy's the one who started it-" "Bloody hell Potter, the rules are the rules-"

"You are scaring a child," I said in answer to them both, "Be ashamed of yourselves."

I knelt in front of the first year, gingerly smiled and tapped with my index finger on his robes. The blotch disappeared harmlessly into the air. "There," I said in the end. "Now you run along," I continued, and then turned towards the two dunderheads while the boy ran away, glad to be let off the hook.

"You think you're so much better than us because you're Dumbledore's student, uh?" Draco sneered.

"I think," I said quite gently, "That I am sad to see that the good qualities within you must be suffocated by your incredible desire to bring suffering to the young and the innocents around you," I exhaled, "When we debase ourselves by giving in to those instincts of violence, of anger, we do not become greater. We merely suffer far more from our inferiority." I kept the smile on my face. The hypocrisy in the air was a rich scent that only I got to smell.

"Whatever!" Draco grumbled, and trudged away, probably to find another student to threaten.

"I had everything under control," Harry said, and I simply turned my gaze on him. "There's nothing I should feel shame for."

"You thought about getting a rise out of Malfoy, rather than ensure the child was safe, or felt at ease," I retorted quite calmly, looking at his expression fumble for words, actual shame creeping up his ears. "Some people have hearts in the right place," I continued, "Others merely need those hearts nudged a bit. Some people have wits, others have courage, but that doesn't matter. There can be honorable thugs, and dishonorable saints. It is our actions that determine whom we are, Harry."

"Seriously," Harry muttered, "It's like I'm talking with Dumbledore, and it's crazy."

I chuckled at that, "Then it means I'm channeling him well," I winked. "Now I'm off. Try to stay out of trouble with Umbridge. She's bad news," I murmured.

Harry awkwardly gave me a nod, and I left him at that. I had other places to be, after all.

My Student Help Desk was a literally big desk in the library, in a tucked away corner where Madam Pince had graciously given me permission to whisper in a slightly higher voice. Mainly because I had offhandedly remarked on how she and Filch would look quite cute together, and even went as far as to provide some quite interesting potions to make a certain someone's hair grow nicely.

Filch actually looked happier. It was a strange thing to say, or think, but even as the man grumbled and rumbled about with Mrs Norris by his side, he was far less hostile to the students. If it was a combination of Fred and George not pulling any more hefty-cleaning pranks, my words of warning in not making life harder for the poor man to the lower years students, and generally having been ousted as the kid who faced a Basilisk to 'avenge' his petrified cat, I reckoned I could get away with throwing a prank in the middle of a hallway right in front of his eyes, and not get ratted out.

Let the needy and the dispossessed come to me, for I am their savior. That thought, ironically enough, would be my damnation.

"Aren't you a bit too many to come to me?" I asked, glancing at the suddenly very large table, filled with a lot of worried-looking students.

"We have OWLs, and Umbridge won't teach us anything practical," it was Hermione who spoke. She huffed as she said that. "How can we be expected to work for our OWLs if we cannot practice them?"

I glanced at the gathered assemblage of ties. There were even a few Slytherins in the mix, though none I recognized as peculiarly problematic. "I see," I said in the end, "But I normally help with homework, not practice. Also, I'm a Prefect and kind of busy, so there's no way I could add more to my work. And if the Professor believes that theory is the best course, it is our duty, as proper students, to follow it through. That is all I have to say as a Prefect on the matter." I glanced at them all. "Now, unless you want to help the younger students with their homework, I'll have to ask you to leave the table."

There were some murmurs of disagreement as some students gathered their schoolbags and left, but there was no way in hell I'd be so foolish as to start something in a public setting of a library, where there could be eavesdroppers everywhere around us.

"All right," I said after more than an hour of an oppressive gaze in my direction, after a few of the younger years had left. "What is it, Hermione?"

The girl triumphantly smiled. "I wondered what Shade thinks about this, rather than Prefect Shade."

"Shade thinks that we should earnestly follow the rules," I said right back at her, "After all, the professors know what is best, and what is fairest, and what is-"

"You'll never let me live that down," Hermione whispered, guiltily looking down.

"I am letting you live that down," I retorted, blinking in surprise. "I just enjoy watching hypocrites squirm in their own words whenever I can," I continued with a chuckle. "It's my vice, I guess," I exhaled, and shook my head. "Listen, catch me by the lake later while I'm fishing. I'll have a fishing rod ready for you."

Hermione opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it with an audible click.

"Fine," she said. "At what time?"

"Well, the best time for fishing is in the morning," I said, "I would say...three o'clock, tomorrow?"

Hermione stared.

I smiled.

My charming smile clearly won her over.