𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟔 - 𝟗

I was flying through the corridors, absolutely seething, letting my feet take over for my mind as they led me to the common room. All I could think about was Potter, and for once it wasn't because of his infuriating smirk or terrible fluffy hair. It was because my twin brother had almost died, and it was his fault.

My blood ran cold at the thought of what would've happened if Snape hadn't gotten there in time to heal him. Would I have just sat there uselessly while Draco bled out in front of me?

I stopped in front of the portrait hole, but before I could speak the password the Fat Lady looked me up and down and nearly screamed. 

"What happened to you?" She exclaimed, touching the back of one of her hands to her forehead dramatically and fanning herself furiously with the other. 

I looked down at my own hands and winced. There was still blood all over them, not to mention my soaking wet skirt and stockings. I cleaned myself up with a wave of my wand and muttered the password. The Fat Lady stared at me in astonishment, but let me in.

Immediately I stormed up the stairs to the boys dormitories and threw open Potter's door. Inside his room sat him, Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny. Potter was sitting on his bed, staring blankly at the deep red sheets. The rest of them all leaned against Weasley's bed with horrified faces. Evidently, he had told them everything. Good. I wanted everyone in this castle to know what Potter had done.

"What is wrong with you?" I demanded, surprising even myself with the volume of my voice. Potter looked up at me, and I was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

"I don't- I didn't know what the spell was-" he replied shakily. It only made me angrier. He had no right to be as scared or worried or confused or outraged as I was.

"You better not have!" I shouted. "If Snape hadn't gotten there when he did, Draco would have died!"

Potter stood, and now he looked angry too. "But he didn't die, Alexandra. Are you forgetting that he's attempted his fair share of murder this year as well?"

"So then you're just as bad as him!" I screamed. I saw Ginny, Hermione, and Weasley leave the room hastily out of the corner of my eye, but payed them no attention.

"I'm just as bad as Draco?" Potter repeated in disbelief. "I'm not the Death Eater in this situation!"

"That hardly matters!" I exclaimed. "Whether on purpose or by accident, you were the caster of the spell that could have killed my brother. At least Draco's been trying to murder Dumbledore indirectly. You don't see him whipping out his wand and casting mysterious spells from old potions books at his headmaster." 

I knew in the back of my mind that I sounded foolish, but I couldn't help myself. Despite all the years my mother had trained me to dull my emotions, they always managed to get the best of me.

Potter laughed humorlessly. "At least? You're saying Draco's actions are justified because he put poison in a bottle instead of casting a flat out Killing Curse?"

"I'm saying you have no right to bash Draco when you've done nearly the same yourself," I replied coldly. 

That seemed to hit Potter hard. His face went completely grey and his shoulders dropped. "I'm not a Death Eater," he swallowed thickly.

"No," I agreed. "You're the Boy Who Lived." 

I turned to walk out the door and forget I ever knew Potter when he grabbed my forearm, spinning me back around. I tried to twist myself out of his grip, but he only held on tighter. Suddenly he pulled me to him, and before I could react his lips were crashing against mine.