sugar & spice

chapter four

Deep breath. "I don't think that's what it means."

Theo shot her an encouraging smile.

Malfoy appeared to take several deep breaths as well before responding tightly, "And what do you think it means, Granger?"

So far there had been no yelling, no arguments that made her want to rip out her hair, and names called. In fact, the meeting had gone rather smoothly thus far, no squabbles regarding the translation arising...until now. At least he seemed as dedicated to working through their difference of opinion in a calm, cool, and collected manner befitting their fledgling friendship.

Pointing at the series of runes in question, she said, "I don't think plague is meant to be interpreted literally, as in pestilence, but rather a curse."

"Curses can cause illnesses," Malfoy argued. "Boils and pox and necrotic limbs, to name a few."

She fought the urge to grit her teeth. "Not magical curses, I mean it metaphorically."

"You're arguing that plague is a metaphor for curse which is...another metaphor?" He arched a brow.

Theo cleared his throat loudly in as if silently reminding them to keep it civil.

"Yes. That's what I'm saying," she said. "A curse as in the more...Muggle interpretation of invoking ill will. You know, to wish misfortune upon an enemy."

Malfoy stared from across the table, lips pursed in a scowl. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something against Muggles.

"As in a plague upon both their houses?"

She opened her mouth and shut it without speaking. What in the world was she supposed to say?

Malfoy smirked.

"Yes." She nodded tightly. "That's-that's exactly what I mean. I wasn't aware you were learning Shakespeare in your Muggle studies lessons."

"Oh I'm not." That insufferable smirk on his face grew larger. "I chose to read it, no lesson required. I was bored, thought I'd do a bit of light reading."

Shakespeare wasn't exactly light reading. His works, his words, required thoughtful analysis, and his turns of phrase seldom held one meaning, but rather several interpretations. His plays weren't something you could just flip through idly, Gods no. Did Malfoy even fully appreciate what he'd read?

Then again, she considered thick magical tomes to be pleasurable reading, so maybe she wasn't in the position to judge what literature one deemed as light. Better to encourage Malfoy's foray into Muggle literature than damn how he went about it. She smiled. "What did you think of Romeo and Juliet?"

He shut his textbook and shoved it to the side, making room to prop his elbows on the table. His bloody smirk hadn't budged. "I hated it."

She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Theo sighed heartily. "He we go," he muttered.

"It was absolute rubbish. Romeo was a git and Juliet was a daft bint. They knew each other for a day and they were in love? My arse. I don't understand why people laud it as a romance when they kill themselves in the end."

Seriously? "It's not a romance, it's a tragedy and cautionary tale."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "The tragedy was how nonsensical it was. He never even explains why the Capulets and Montagues hated one another."

"For any number of reasons." Blood feud, perhaps? She bit her tongue.

"And he couldn't have picked one?" Malfoy scoffed. "Lazy writing, I'd wager."