snowflake

three

September 9th, 1993

"Lissy, wake up! We're going to be late for the game!" Daphne's shrieking was the first thing Elissia had the displeasure of hearing when she woke up that rainy Thursday Morning. She groaned, reaching her arm out and attempting to push Daphne away from her bed. Daphne rolled her eyes, it appeared that Elissia's attempts were in vain since Daphne didn't budge from where she was standing. She opened an eye and peeked out from her pillow, groaning once more when she saw that her blonde dormmate was still there; still expecting her to get up from the warm comfort that was her four-poster bed. "I swear to Merlin, I'm going to get Blaise or Draco if you don't get up!"

That made Elissia sit up and leave her bed faster than the time in second year when she was 5 minutes late to Potions. She got dressed and brushed her teeth, doing her makeup with the speed only someone who was running a marathon would possess. Daphne smirked as she watched the scene unravel in front of her, reapplying her lipgloss in a celebratory manner. Elissia let out a heavy breath, she finished brushing her hair and set the brush down, giving Daphne a not-so-menacing glare.

"We don't mention the D-slur, I thought you knew that." She remarked, shaking her head in feign disappointment. The girl in front of her only laughed and grabbed her bag along with Elissia's hand, leading the two of them to the Great Hall.

"And I thought you knew that Slytherin has its first Quidditch game of the season, today." Daphne retorted, a playful smirk coming across her features. Elissia chose not to answer for she wasn't willing to get into an argument with her friend over Quidditch of all things; especially not that early in the morning. The duo entered the Great Hall, Daphne sat down next to Malfoy's posse, naturally bringing Elissia along with her. "Morning Draco, better not let Potter psych you out at today's game." She warned Slytherin's seeker, who was notorious for being the reason that Slytherin lost all the Quidditch games the year before. Malfoy scoffed and took an aggressive bite from his breakfast, looking around the room before glaring directly at the Golden Trio from across the room.

"It's hardly my fault that's he such a showoff, Greengrass. Besides, there's no way they're going to play half as well as us. Pucey devised a method that's unbeatable, even for those stupid Gryffindorks." He said smugly, Elissia rolled her eyes in disgust at his unmeasurable level of arrogance towards his Quidditch skills. This didn't go unnoticed to Malfoy as his head snapped over to her. "What, Reyes? Don't believe that we can beat your little group of idiots?" He sneered. Elissia looked at him with an unreadable expression, she leaned forward with her elbows on the table.

"No, what I find hard to believe is that you think you can go 5 minutes into the game without threatening to tell your father how awful the weather is." She answered coolly, leaning back and starting to eat her breakfast. Malfoy looked positively livid by now, one would've thought he'd taken a Pepperup Potion and that was the reason for the imaginary steam emitting from his pale ears. Blaise snorted but tried to cover it up with a short cough, he patted Malfoy on the shoulder as a way to calm him down.

"Mate-- It's fine, she isn't entirely wrong after all." He said without laughing, which posed as a miracle for him at the moment since Malfoy likely might've tried killing him if he failed at not laughing. Instead of this calming his friend down, it seemed to only make him more enraged(if such a thing could exist at the moment). Malfoy's head whipped around to Blaise and roughly shoved his hand off his shoulder, vexation clouding his entire face as he shook with undeniable anger.

"Not entirely wrong?! That's the most bullshit thing I've ever heard!" Malfoy shouted, bringing his fist down to the table as he said the last part. Elissia, Pansy, Blaise and Daphne flinched at the meeting of his fist and the wooden table. The whole table was silent before Adrien Pucey walked over to them, scratching the back of his neck uneasily at the view before him.