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

an eventful trip to hogsmeade

Once Harry was released from the Hospital Wing, everything sort of went back to normal. Professor Lupin had come back to school and everyone else was thrilled to hear that they didn't actually have to do the essays. In celebration of Gryffindor's defeat, Malfoy had removed his sling and taken to pretending to fall off of his chair whenever Harry walked by.

"Cut it out, Malfoy," I berated him, having had enough. "You're so immature."

He smirked. "You're just saying that because you lost."

"I'm saying that because you're being immature," I said matter-of-factly, "and if you don't wipe that stupid smirk off your face I'll do it for you."

He was midway through saying "is that a threat" when a large, blubbery object hit him square in the face. It slid down comically and landed with a jiggly bloop on the table — a crocodile heart. Hardly being able to control myself, I burst into a fit of raucous laughter — tears fell from my eyes.

The rest of the Gryffindors had joined in, and Malfoy's face had went pink. I barely noticed that Snape had taken fifty points from Gryffindor, and that Ron didn't look at all sorry for what he did, which just made me laugh harder.

"You have a terrible laugh, Holmes," Malfoy scowled something fierce, returning from the washroom as I wiped the tears from my eyes.

"You have a terrible face Malfoy," I told him gleefully. "We all have our shortcomings."

He smirked fiendishly. "You didn't seem to think it was so terrible when—"

I slapped a hand over his treacherous mouth and sent him my nastiest glare. I still refused to talk about it, because I refused to think about it. I didn't like the idea that I'd enjoyed kissing Malfoy, berries or no berries.

The next Hogsmeade Saturday, Ron, Hermione, and I bid goodbye to Harry. Ron and Hermione were arguing about Scabbers and Crookshanks again. Trying to get them to stop arguing was a good distraction from my thoughts. They finally stopped once we reached the cobbled path, and the white, shimmery snow made the town look like a Christmas card.

"Up for Scrivenshafts?" Hermione asked me. "I need some more ink."

"More ink? Hermione, it's only December," Ron remarked. "I can't say I'm surprised with all that work you're doing but maybe you should take a break."

"My Muggle Studies essay isn't going to do itself, Ron," Hermione replied primly. "Besides, if you actually did the work for our classes you'd almost be out too."

"I don't choose to use four pieces of parchment when the minimum is one," Ron said, scowling.

"Let's go," I said quickly, before it could escalate. "And then after that we can go to Honeydukes and get something for Harry, how's that?"

"Sounds good," said Ron, looking at Hermione warily.

We walked to Scrivenshaft's in the snow. It was a relief to be inside — the heat washed over us and melted the frost from our eyelashes. After visiting a few more stores for some Christmas shopping, we trekked to Honeydukes to get sweets for Harry. The smell of sweets engulfed me once again, as did the warmth of the shop on its own.

"I claim the treacle tart — it's his favorite," I announced immediately, turning on my feel before either of them could protest.

"That's hardly fair," Hermione rolled her eyes. "But we'll go look anyway."

She and Ron walked off to go browse the other shelves. I stooped to pick up some treacle tart when I felt a pair of eyes on me. I turned around to see none other than Malfoy; in the exact same spot he was last time, almost as if he was waiting for me.