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

what do good people do?

Malfoy reappeared in Potions on Thursday, strutting in with hardly any remorse and taking his seat across from me. He still had that stupid sling on.

"How generous of you to show up." I muttered under my breath. To my satisfaction, all smugness disappeared.

"What's with you?" He asked me, lips twitching downward.

"What's with me?" I repeated flatly. "It's funny you should ask, Malfoy."

He frowned. "Why?"

"Don't act like you care." I grimaced, and wouldn't say another word to him.

That is, until he started acting like he couldn't use his arm, forcing Ron and Harry to do the work for him — then, we spent the rest of the class arguing heatedly.

"You're acting like this all isn't your fault." I scoffed as soon as we had left the classroom, shoving my finger into his chest. "You dug yourself your own grave and it would do everyone a favor if you could just lie in it nicely instead of acting like a damned war hero."

A crowd had started to gather. I had never been one to "lose my cool," per say, but after that conversation we'd had in the hospital wing I'd been rather moody regarding Malfoy in the first place.

"How is it my fault that that bloody half-breed couldn't control that stupid bird?" Malfoy scowled at me. A low rumble rose to my throat at that. How dare he? I'd watched Hagrid sob over the lesson merely a few nights ago and blame himself for the whole ordeal — it was so unfair.

"It's your fault you're so entitled that you can't bother to listen to simple instructions," I retorted. Mockingly, I added, "I'm sure mommy and daddy will come along to clean it up for you, won't they? At least your dad would, if he weren't so busy being unemployed."

Before he could retort, I kept going, words spilling out of me like a waterfall. "Maybe your mum'll take his place, cause she's the one who's spoiled you so rotten it makes you think you're still ten years old."

Something in me had told me I had gone too far, but the blood pumping in my veins and my hard, fast, anger told me it was warranted. Malfoy's eyes were icy now, frostier than I'd ever seen them.

"At least my mother is still alive."

Okay, so maybe Ron was becoming a bad influence. Maybe I simply lost control, because suddenly I was seeing red and gripping Malfoy by the collar and socking him square in the jaw. It punched a low, startled grunt out of him that I took great pride in.

"What's going on here—"

Malfoy was groaning loudly and holding his face. The crowd had dispersed. He glared at me, gaze cold. Blood pounded in my ears.

"I'll make you regret that, Holmes," he raised his wand and cried, "Confringo!"

But even as I winced and I felt the flames grow warm against my face, they never quite hit me.

"Finite Incantatem!"

Malfoy and I turned in unison. Professor Snape stood down the hall, looking absolutely livid. I felt my heart go still. I'd just been talking to him about my Occlumency lessons — what was he going to do now?

"Both of you!" He yelled. "In my office, now!"

Refusing to look at either of them, I followed Professor Snape back to his office, Malfoy behind me. After he shut the door behind the both of us, he turned to look at us, a grimace on his face. My head was bowed, and I watched my shoes as he scolded us.

"I'm not sure what I just witnessed, but I know that this sort of behavior is absolutely unacceptable here," he said sharply. "What happened? You started out as my best students. Fifty points from each of you for fighting in the hallways—"