ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ 1-3

halloween mishaps

"Impossible!" Malfoy was quite furious one Sunday morning, storming into the library with the angriest scowl I'd seen yet. He was so furious, in fact, that his bag nearly knocked my homework off the table. I blinked up at him, confused as to what he could possibly be so upset about.

The last time I'd seen him almost this irate was when he'd seen Harry and Ron at breakfast the morning after the dog incident and realized that they hadn't been expelled. Malfoy was always a bit of a drama queen — it probably wasn't a big deal.

"What's gotten your wand in a knot?" I asked him tranquilly, not looking up from my Potions paper.

"Potter's gotten himself a Nimbus 2000!" He snapped irritably.

"Has he now?" I wasn't particularly concerned. I figured maybe if I was calmer then it would calm him down too.

"First years aren't allowed to have them!" He sat down furiously in the chair across from mine. I suddenly remembered that we'd finished our partner assignment last week, so Malfoy really had no reason to be there. I assumed he had sought me out to rant, and the idea greatly amused me.

"He's on the Quidditch team, thanks to you," I said matter-of-factly. "Therefore, he needs a broom to play."

Malfoy huffed at me. "I'm surprised you're not more upset about this."

"Yes, well, it won't be my team that will be losing the Quidditch Cup this year," I continued to write. "You, however, have a perfectly good reason to be upset."

"Slytherin has gone undefeated for years," Malfoy said smugly. "What makes you think Potter will change that?"

"You and I might not particularly like him right now, but that doesn't mean that we can't acknowledge that he has some talents." I finished my paper and finally looked up. I regretted it almost immediately — since I'd noticed them, I couldn't help be pulled in by the slate grey of his eyes. I'd never seen a color like that in anyone's before.

"We'll shake on it," said Malfoy. If he'd noticed my lapse of mind he didn't say anything, instead extending a hand. I took it in mine and shook it firmly. It was very cold — almost like ice.

"Are you sick? You feel warmer than you're supposed to be," he told me. I wasn't sure what to say to this, so I raised an eyebrow. His ears went slightly pink at the ends again. "It's probably because I've gotten so used to the dungeons."

"Gryffindor tower is quite warm," I agreed. In fact, I was so warm that I'd vetoed my robes for the day and was just wearing my vest, blouse, and tie with the sleeves rolled up.

"I don't know how you can stand that," he shook his head. "All that heat. And all those buffoons you have for housemates."

I shrugged. "Sometimes, things just grow on you."

He looked at me for a good while before speaking again.

"Huh, so that's what it's called."

The next time I talked to Malfoy was Halloween morning. Things with Ron and Harry weren't as bad, but we still didn't talk much. Hermione was supportive as ever, and in fact it was with her that I encountered Malfoy in the hallway. He nodded at me, but his eyes shifted over to Hermione and he grimaced. He seemed to find her annoying, which was strange to me because I thought the two of us to be quite similar. Maybe it was because she'd called him a "slimy lipless skink" when he got points for answering the same question as she did two weeks ago.

"I'm really starting to dislike this Apollo character," he said to me. We stopped in the hallway. Nobody else was around except for the three of us. Hermione pretended not to eavesdrop, suddenly taking great interest in the beginnings of a storm forming outside.