𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝟏.𝟒 - 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬

It was your first official day of classes and Professor Moody was taking his new role as your Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher very seriously. He spent the first half of class going on and on about his distrust for the ministry. You were trying your best to multitask successfully, listening to Moody's lecture on the unforgivable curses as well as learning how to use a quill and ink from Pansy who was doing her best to instruct you under her breath. The last student that had spoken without the teacher's permission had gotten a piece of chalk lobbed at his head.

The night before, you were delighted to discover that not only did you and Pansy get along famously, your beds were right next to one another. Your fellow dormmates consisted of Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, and Millicent Bulstrode, none of whom made an effort to make you feel as welcome as Pansy did. In her own words: 'A friend of Draco's is a friend of mine!'

"Ms. Firethorn!" Professor Moody called, though his voice made it come out as a growl. You sat upright, accidentally knocking your quill off of the desk but too stunned to do anything about it. 

"Sir?"

"Something tells me you're a fresh face around here. Stand up."

You did so, stepping around the bench you and Pansy had been sharing. She shot you a nervous look, putting the stopper in her inkwell. The Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom was on the third floor of the castle which just so happened to be the draftiest. You were still wearing your robes when he called on you and you saw no point in shrugging it off just as your face started to grow hot.

"Give me a curse, Ms. Firethorn."

Your mind blanked under the sudden pressure and it took you a second longer to spit out an answer. "The Cruciatus Curse, sir."

Hermione was seated at the front of the room, looking between you and Moody with a suspicious look in her eye. Harry and Ron sat together in the very front row, a choice that surprised you based on what you knew them to be like. Draco, who was on the bench right in front of yours and Pansy's, had turned his head to watch you.

"Very good, Ms. Firethorn. Come to the front of the room, please."

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest and you slowly grabbed your wand off of the desk before taking hesitant steps toward the front. "Come, come," Moody encouraged you with a wave of his hand. "Up you go!"

As you carefully came to stand beside his table at the front of the room, he reached behind him and opened a large glass jar, coaxing a small spider-like creature onto his open hand. 

"Engorgio," he murmured, flicking his wand so that the bug grew two sizes larger. Moody's tongue jutted out of his mouth, blinking at you before nudging the creature onto the wooden surface of the table. "This one's particularly nasty. The torture curse."

You looked between Moody and the spider, taking a cautious step back as he prepared his wand to cast the curse.

"Crucio," he spat, wand hovering barely above the spider's back. Almost immediately, the insect let out a painful screech as it's legs folded in on its torso. It rolled, shriveling up in what was perhaps the worst pain of its life. You watched it intently, the grip on your wand loosened and tightened periodically as you stood there.

Your shoulders began to shake as you placed a hand over your mouth. It was as if you could feel it's agony and confusion. Feelings of guilt and terror began eating away at you.

"Stop it!" You could hear Hermione shout behind you. "Can't you see that it's bothering her? Stop it!"

As if just then noticing your state, Moody lifted the curse with another flick of his wand. You blinked, a single tear falling from your eye and dancing across your cheek. Someone in the back of the room dropped something and you jumped, finally turning to face the rest of the class.

Hermione looked to be in a similar state as you, her nostrils flared as she glared right past you at Moody. Ron and Harry shared the same look of pity, though Ron's was twinged with disgust as he eyed the insect that was currently cowering on the corner of the table.

Moony cleared his throat, "Ms. Firethorn-" 

But you were already out the door, robes billowing in the doorway behind you. Embarrassment broiled in your veins and made the tips of your ears itch. In the peak of your mortified state, you hadn't actually mapped out where you would go or what you would do when you got there. Following the rays of sunshine that pooled through the high windows, you collapsed in an empty stairwell and allowed yourself to cry.

Thunder rolled overhead and you could hear the rain beginning to pelt the stained glass window to your right. With every passing moment, you regretted running off even more. How were you supposed to find your way back? Did you even want to return after the scene you caused?

"Oh jeez," you sniffled, using the long black sleeve of your cloak to blot at your puffy red eyes. Soon the bell would ring and you would be surrounded on every side by other students. If only you knew where the girl's bathroom was. 

Note to self: ask Hermione to draw you a map at her earliest convenience.

It was a few minutes into your meltdown that you heard echoed footsteps of someone climbing the twisted stone stairwell. You tried to wipe away your tears but they returned tenfold before you could completely dry your eyes. Looking up beneath your eyelashes, you watched Draco still his steps in front of you. He had your bag thrown over his shoulder, your books and quill under his arm. An awkward smile formed on his lips and you moved over to the right so he could sit down next to you.

Looking down at your lap, you fiddled with your wand and spun it between your fingers slowly. "I'm sorry," you sighed, "That was probably a lousy first impression, wasn't it?"

"Don't be sorry," Draco replied, shrugging off your bag and putting it down between you. "What he did was sadistic. I'll send my father an owl and get him done away with." The pure venom in his voice made you shake your head with a saddened smile, eyebrows knitted together. "Don't do that. I'm just sensitive, that's all. Was never good at the whole 'curses' thing. Not even back at home."

Draco leaned his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together between his legs. His gaze was directed at the floor, not once blinking as you briefly studied him. "You didn't see a bug, did you?"

"What?" You asked, puzzled.

"You didn't see a bug. You saw a living thing in pain and it upset you. That's not being sensitive, that's being empathetic. That makes you a good person."

You bit your lip, shifting your weight on the stair you were seated on to cross your arms over your chest above your knees. "Draco?"

He hummed, blinking slowly as he changed his stance as well. You thought back to his interaction with Harry the day before and how almost every Gryffindor in the class had caught sight of him and moved to sit halfway across the classroom. "Are you a good person?"

A beat. His eyes hardened, glaring holes into the wall. Then, he sighed sadly and met your eyes. "I don't know."

The mutual silence enveloped you and you sat together in the stairwell until the clocktower chimed, signaling the end of class. Without a word spoken between you, you gathered your things and began following him to your next class, Potions. 

 (A/N: I might change the cover of this book later. I like it but I know it's not like...the best. If anyone knows a good cover maker or whatever, lemme know).