For Better, For Worse

Chapter Nineteen

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Hogwarts, 1993

"It drives me mad, Daphne. I mean— he just has to be good at everything doesn't he?"

I look over my shoulder at Malfoy, sitting between Zabini and Theo at the back of Transfiguration with a fine tortoise circling in front of them.

Of course, only two minutes into our practical period, he's managed to perfect the spell.

"He must have an excellent Governess. I even heard his father trains him himself when he has the time." Daphne frowns as Malfoy turns Theo's teapot into a tortoise as well, just as skillfully as his first attempt.

I snort, "Please, Lucius doesn't have a paternal bone in his body. I think Malfoy just says that to boast. It's probably all the Governess."

I look back at them one more time, surrounded by the other Slytherin girls all ogling at his work.

With a small smirk, I aim my magic at Malfoy's tortoise, whispering a spell and flicking my wand at its tail. I turn swiftly in my seat and tuck my wand away, pretending to still be on the notes.

"Malfoy— um, I think you've done something wrong," I hear Zabini start nervously. "Your tortoise has still got a handle on it."

I smile down at my paper.

"What! No— it was perfect a moment ago," Malfoy whines, and I hear a few giggles from the girls as they disperse, traveling back to their own seats.

"Dammit," Malfoy mutters, and I turn in time to see him scowling at the handle-clad tortoise, seemingly wracking his brain to figure out how his spell could've gone wrong.

His eyes lock on mine, and his lips slowly develop a smirk as my eyes widen— fearing I've been caught.

"Nice one, Burke," He mouths to me, raising an eyebrow as he lifts his tortoise.

I roll my eyes at him, but find myself smiling as I turn back around to my own teapot, trying the spell for myself.

I get it first try, just as I hear Malfoy vanish the handle from his tortoise and summon over McGonagall to check his work. My Governess happened to be excellent this year, getting me ahead on lots of my more challenging lessons.

On the way out of class, he brushes past me, casually dropping a folded piece of paper into my bag.

I narrow my eyes at him as he walks away from me, smiling in a wicked way before turning the corner.

I tuck myself into the nearest alcove and pull out the note, inspecting it for signs of tampering or any noticeable curses. Finding it clean, I unfold it carefully to read the four, neatly penned words.

Payback's a bitch, Burke.

He keeps good on his promise, and I find my potion exploding onto me the next period— covering me from head to toe in horrid green goo— as Malfoy laughs loudly from the other end of the laboratory.

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After two hours of monotonous notes, Daphne is dragging me out by the collar of my robes into the corridor. She glances back a couple of times at the door, tucks her book against her chest, and then turns her gaze to mine.