shattered | f.w, d.m

twenty one

Keziah.

February, 1998.

—

"You idiot!" She viciously chucked a textbook at him.

It flew from her hand with a sharp whip. Draco ducked in order to dodge it. The textbook slammed against the wall, hard, and collided onto the floor with a thud.

He sprung up, eyes wide. "You're crazy! What's the matter with you?!" he shouted back.

"Crazy?" She barked a chilling, loud laugh. Her wild eyes pierced his grey ones from across his dorm. "Sweetheart, you haven't seen crazy yet. But at least I'm not a fucking amateur!"

"What are you talking about?" He forced his voice to a reasonable tone, jaws tightly clenched.

"Flint," she drawled, and fought the urge to slam his head into the corner of his desk. A flicker of an image of what his head would look like bashed in skipped through her mind and momentarily delighted her. Albeit, only momentarily. Fury burned all of the delight to dust. "You fucked it all up, you amateur!"

The scoff he unleashed was pure ice. "Like you could have done any better," he spat, and shook his head at her. "You've never killed anyone before."

"I could have done better. I may have not killed anyone, but I've killed and I've studied about just that since I could walk," Keziah said furiously, every feature on her face pinched into a hostile scowl. "Now with your failed fucking attempt, they know it was a homicide that tried to be passed as a suicide, Malfoy."

He said nothing as his expression hardened, hooded.

"I don't even get why you had to stab him." She rubbed an exasperated hand down her face. "Pushing him off the Astronomy Tower would have been easier, that way it would look like a suicide for sure. Actually, that would have failed too because with your odds, Flint probably had no fucking reason to kill himself! You shouldn't have killed him—period!"

"You weren't even supposed to see me do it. I didn't even know you were still in the game." He had the audacity to roll his eyes at her, leaning back against the edge of his desk. "He said something vile about you, so I did what I needed to do. It's not the first time he's talked bad about you anyway. He even messed with you the time he took your necklace. He needed to be taken care of. I did this world a favour by getting rid of that piece of scum."

The blood beneath her skin boiled with hot, white rage. "That doesn't mean you need to fucking kill him!" Her voice rose thunderously as her arms flailed up into the air. "Fucking hell!"

"No one even knows it was me!" Draco matched her shout, which was fine since she'd silenced the door the second she got to his dorm. "I covered it up!"

She fought for a lower voice, a reasonable one. "Where's the knife you killed him with?" Her arms folded across her chest.

"Gone." He held her stare easily, copying her pose.

"Where. Is. The. Knife. Malfoy." The words were nearly poured out as an agitated growl.

He stared at her silently for a moment. "I threw it in the Black—" His sentence was cut short when he ducked down to dodge the leather-bound book she threw at him, which was the book on his nightstand.

"Fucking idiot!" Her scream bounced off the walls and echoed everywhere in his dorm. "Oh my fucking gosh! I thought you were supposed to be smart! You're the most intelligent in this school, yet you threw the fucking murder weapon in a body of fucking water that isn't never-ending! Tell me you're daft without telling me you're daft!"