The Hogwarts seemed to be on edge half the time. Umbridge had struck fear in everyone's hearts; children didn't want to have their hands engraved forever. Umbridge took an almost immediate dislike to Gryffindors, and sometimes Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and adored all the Slytherins. Professor McGonagall was the only teacher who could make Umbridge back down. She didn't seem at all to consent Umbridge's presence in her classroom, she repeatedly ignored Umbridge's signature "Hem, hem" and made her speechless, trying to think up a retort. Flitwick was peaceful; letting Umbridge do as she pleased while he continued teaching, Grubbly-Plank was almost as calm, and Snape was even colder than usual: no surprises there.

Hermione had persuaded Harry to run a DADA group; they'd already met in the Hog's Head and apart from Zacharias Smith (the obnoxious boy she had seen with a headache in the Hospital Wing the year before when she'd had her pus-filled hands bandaged), everyone was keen to learn from Harry. Twenty-eight students, including her, Harry and Ron, were participating. Draco, though pleased to hear someone was doing something about Umbridge, quickly became depressed, for of course he wouldn't be welcome at the meetings; not one of them, except Hermione, liked Slytherins.

"It's a brilliant plan," he told her. "Just a shame I can't come."

"I've got an idea," she replied breathlessly. "Come with me."

Hermione led Draco into an abandoned classroom. Draco picked up a broken stick of chalk reminiscently.

"My father once charmed chalk to repeatedly write Mudblood on the back of someone. I think he appealed to my grandfather, Abraxas, when McGonagall attempted to get him expelled."

"Pleasant man," Hermione said idly. "Rather like you, at times."

"That was when I was thirteen or fourteen. Barely an adolescent."

"Hmm," was all Hermione said, as she straightened a cushion. Then she turned on her heel, pulling out her wand as she did so. "How about we duel?"

"You shouldn't have asked," Draco replied with a twitch of a smile.

He proved to be far better than she ever would have guessed, despite the fact she'd glimpsed his aptitude for duelling when he'd defended her against Blaise. Draco had a particular talent for Charms, and rather than attacking (as she would have thought), he was a brilliant defender. She found herself stumbling often as his Shield Charms rebounded each of her moves. After about five minutes, by which stage both of them had used every spell they cared to name, they sank, exhausted, into the cushions.

"When did I become so easy to predict?" Hermione questioned. "You apprehended every one of mine."

"You are not explicitly simple to predict," Draco began slowly. He sounded quite serious. "I just find people easy to read. You see, instead of being half-decent at Occlumency, which would most definitely help me more, I have a dexterity for Legilimency."

"You used Legilimency on me?" 

Hermione felt betrayed.

"No," Draco answered. "I use it unconsciously, so I can see whether people are lying, or what they're about to do, but it only goes that far on its own. It is only when I know I am performing it that I can see further than before."

Hermione shivered. Legilimency definitely sounded like it was on the darker side of the spectrum. She felt an odd chill coming from him, and quickly made an excuse to leave.

"I've got... Herbology homework," she offered weakly, and left before she could see the hurt and bewildered expression on Draco's face.