Into The Light - D.M.

Chapter 8

"For someone so smart, you really are ignorant, Weasley," Draco sneered once we were alone. 
"I don't know why I thought that talking to you would settle anything," I said, pushing myself to my feet. 
"Nor do I." 
But, I didn't leave. Everything in me told me to leave - to go to bed before I got into another fight with Draco - but, I didn't. "Maybe if you told me what's going on, I would know what's at stake here." 
"I can't, Amelia. But, it's nothing good. You have to trust me." 
"Trust you? How can I ever trust you after what happened today?"
"What happened today was a discussion that should have taken place behind closed doors. You and I both said some things that we both now regret, I'm sure." 
I sad down beside him. "You're right." 
"I believe I've said these words more to you than anyone else in my life, but I am sorry." 
I smiled gently. "I am, too."  

I stood once more, weary from the day's events. "Draco?" I asked. 
"Yes?"
"This tournament - it's strange, isn't it?"
"From my perspective, yes. It seems out of place, especially with how our previous years have gone." 
"Do you think it's involved in all this somehow?" 
Draco shook his head lightly. "I really don't know." 

That conversation was the last I had thought about the Triwizard Tournament for weeks. My mind was, instead, filled with potions. With my previous test scores, I was confident that I would be able to continue the course the rest of my time at Hogwarts. What I would do after graduation, I still don't know, but I knew what my strengths were. 
"Done," I smiled, setting the potion of Calming Draught on Snape's desk. 
He twirled the bottle gently, examining the pale lilac color of the liquid. "Very good. 10 points to Slytherin." 
Daphne's potion caught my attention as I sat, the liquid bubbling a fiery red color. "I hate this class," she whispered, barely loud enough to reach my ears. 
"You just missed an ingredient," I whispered back, careful not to be heard by anyone else. "Read the instructions again." 

"You're a cheater," Draco whispered from behind me, still working on his own potion. 
"Am not," I whispered back. 
"Malfoy and Weasley," Snape's voice boomed from the front of the room. "Detention, one week." We both started to protest, before he spoke again. "Don't make it two." We were quiet after that. 

My face burned as I left the classroom. "Good job, Malfoy!" 
"Me? You're the one sneaking answers to Greengrass!" 
"Did you see her potion?" I asked. "If I don't help her I genuinely don't know if she's going to pass her exams."
"Hey," Daphne protested.
"I'm sorry, but it's true," I told her. 
"I know," she admitted, sadly. 
"Well, Weasley, I suppose I'll see you in detention," Draco said with a smile before walking away. 
"The things I do for you," I shook my head, wrapping my arm around Daphne. 

Detention consisted of helping grade the backlog of potions Snape kept in the backroom. He had left us a grading guide to each type of potion, that we were to fill out based on his criteria. It wasn't hard work, but it was repetitive and boring. 
"I hate you," I said, as I finished grading my twentieth bottle of Draught of Living Death. 
"I know. On a separate note, Snape is very trusting to leave us unsupervised with these."
As he said this, one vial across the room exploded. "Maybe he genuinely doesn't care about our lives." 
"It is an efficient way to stop troublemakers. 'Sorry Dumbledore, they died after a mishap in detention'." 
"Do you think that's what happened to Kressley," I asked, referring to the sixth year who had mysteriously disappeared during our first year. 
Draco paused, eyes widening. "The sad part is, no one will ever believe us." 

I burst into giggles, quickly followed by Draco. "I'm sorry I got us into detention." 
"It's not your fault. I was only trying to frustrate you," he admitted. 
"Why would you do that?"
"You have this façade that nothing can get to you, and it's so satisfying to know that I can get under your skin." 
"I'd tread lightly, Malfoy," I warned. 
"Or what?"
"Trust me, you don't want to find out." 
"I think I'll take my chances."