ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀ 4

i don't think you're what you seem

a/n: super long chapter, sorry!!

Draco and I met in the Potions classroom at eight on Friday evening. Professor Snape seemed quite keen to be rid of us, and basically just told us to stay put for an hour while he graded fifth year papers in his office. He didn't even bother to take our wands before disappearing.

"It's good to know Snape thinks this is as much of a joke as we do," Draco huffed as the door shut behind him. "As if being turned into a ferret after mum wasn't punishment enough."

"I can't believe he hasn't been sacked for that. Or that Smith got away with it. Accio!" I summoned a cauldron toward me. "I didn't know Hufflepuffs had it in them to be so ornery. Scourgify!"

"There are bad apples in every house," Draco shrugged. "Just depends on who you ask. Some would say it's people like Inés making us Slytherins look bad — others would say it's me. Or was me, the last few years anyway." He cleared a cauldron with a flick of his wand, and once again his control over his magic astounded me. "Smith's wretched all around, though. Nobody really likes him. He's like Longbottom if Longbottom were a self-centered prick."

"Hey!" I protested hotly. "Neville's my friend. Lots of people like Neville."

"Exactly, because he's not a self-centered prick," Draco agreed, clearing another cauldron. "He's quite dim, sure, but Gryffindors aren't required to be clever." Draco shook his head. "Bloody brilliant at Herbology, though. Did you hear he got top marks last year?"

"Not from him, no, but Dean told me," I recalled the letter fondly. Dean had found out through Seamus who had found out through Neville's gran. Neville hadn't meant to tell anyone else — he was rather bashful about it, for some reason.

"I almost feel proud," Draco sighed. "But I'm more furious that Longbottom beat me at anything."

I couldn't help but laugh. I knew it wasn't meant to be a jab at Neville, and that Draco was just very competitive when it came to his marks. It seemed that as much as his parents pushed him, he pushed himself just as so.

"Well, we both know Neville can't fly nearly as well as you," I reminded him. Draco smirked as we both recalled our first flying lessons. It was a point of humor between Neville, Seamus, Dean and I now.

"I'll probably fly some more this year, even without Quidditch." Draco mused, grey eyes elsewhere as he became lost in thought. "Krum's feint was like artwork — I'd love to master it. He'll be able to teach me himself when he gets here."

I felt myself short-circuit. Had I heard him correctly? "When he gets here?" I repeated faintly.

"Don't you know? He's still in school," Draco cracked one of his signature smirks. "At Durmstrang. And he's of age, so he'll be here for the tournament. My father wanted to send me there, but my mum said it was too far from home. Our families have known each other for decades, you know."

I jumped up and grabbed him by the shoulders. "And you're only telling me this now?! Draco Hyperion Malfoy, how dare you withhold this information from me?"

His eyebrows knitted, suddenly distracted. "Why do you know my middle name?"

"I have since first year," I waved a hand flippantly. "Saw it on your luggage. Now tell me why you've kept so quiet that you know Viktor Krum, and why you haven't introduced us?"