Lineage||Draco Malfoy|

8|off the hook

QUINN ONCE KILLED A PLANT because she gave it too much water. Ever since then she's believed that her love is violent. Apathy was a learned behavior for her, aggression even more so. Once the habits were formed she had never looked back, it was too hard to back track, too hard to fix her parent's favorite vase that now lay in shatters, too hard to apologize when she believed every word she said- only she hadn't meant it so harshly. Too hard to trust that she could be any better.

So she let herself to be bitter and angry, to scare and hurt people deeply enough that they wouldn't dare come back to her. Allowing herself to be cruel and deceptive was the easy part, the hard part was the guilt.

But if anyone ever asked, feelings like remorse never lingered long enough to affect her.

"So you really found nothing at your house?" Charolette asked.

The school day had just begun and they were starting off strongly with Transfiguration. The halls were bustling as usual, resulting in people jostling each other as they hurried.

Quinn shook her head. "No, I looked everywhere but maybe I was wrong. Maybe my mom did throw the letters away."

"I just think you don't know how to properly snoop," Adam declared. "If only I was there to help you."

"Yes yes, my life would be significantly better if I was always in your presence."

"Ah, I'm finally being given proper appreciation."

They entered McGonagall's classroom and immediately settled into their respective seats. Adam beside Harrison and Quinn beside Charolette.

The day was filled with notes, hand cramps, and boredom. There was the guilt, too. Quinn hadn't wanted to lie to her friends but it was the smartest course of action, she had concluded. If she was about to chase something so stupid and possibly disastrous it was better that her friends knew as little as possible.

After Transfiguration was Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class that tested her patience daily, and then finally Potions.

"You look tired," Nevaeh commented.

"Ever the observer," Quinn replied.

"Not to be mistaken with Allen's typical look of exhaustion." The familiar sneer lacked its usual fervor, and somehow his voice was softer even as it was laced with its usual disdain.

"Something wrong, Malfoy?" Quinn asked without turning around. "You seem a little out of sorts."

He scoffed, "Like I'd tell you."

"So that's a yes then?"

"Piss off, Allen."

"Ah, evading the question I see," Quinn hummed. "Can't bring yourself to tell a lie?"

"Unlike you I have morals."

"Says the blood purist."

"Standards too, I might add."

Quinn turned around, immediately noting the sag in his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes. With pale hair and fair skin combined with black robes, his appearance was usually sharp. She didn't quite know how to describe the dullness that accompanied him at the moment, like his imposing nature had taken the day off and left something more human behind.

"Is that why you look like you've crawled out of a shallow grave?"

For the first time, Quinn wondered if they were more similar than she'd like to admit. That they both use rough edges and cruel wit to keep other people at an arms length. Maybe, just like her, he's also been let down a few too many times and because of that it's easier just to not care at all.