Lumos

4| Half-Blooded

"The Half-Blood Prince?" I repeated. She nodded quickly. "May I know why?" For a moment, she hesitated. But she owed me and she bloody well knew it.

"Harry found this used potions book in Slughorn's classroom," she started to explain slowly, as if she was very carefully picking out words. "It has shortcuts and substitutes for every potion, plus newly created spells. It doesn't have a name on it . . . Just the 'Half-Blood Prince on the inside cover."

My mouth was half-open, ready to reply, right before the door creaked open. Draco stood in the doorway, his eyes falling on Hermione.

"Granger," he said, his lips twisting distastefully. His eyes widened when they fell on me. "Steele? What are you doing here?"

"I might say the same for you. Are you a prefect?" I asked.

"Yes."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "You became a prefect? I didn't even know."

"That's because you've been too busy stalking me. Were you waiting here for me? Want to see me-"

"Shut up, Malfoy. I had something important to discuss with Hermione," I scowled. "Will you get out?"

"No."

"Draco!"

He stood there, waiting. "How about you and the Mudblood go to your dormitories and do whatever the hell you were doing there," he suggested.

"Don't call her that," I said through gritted teeth.

"What," he laughed in disbelief, "are the Mudblood and Blood Traitor friends now?" I walked up to him, pulling back my fist.

"I will hit you."

"By all means, go ahead. But I'm satisfied you finally know your place," he smirked, and then I let my fist fly. He grabbed my wrist, pulling it down. "Get. Out." I yanked my fist back.

"Granger's right. You are a foul, loathesome, evil little cockroach," I spit out, walking past him. Sometimes I felt bad for him, but sometimes I wanted to hex his lips together for the rest of eternity.

Hermione followed me out, shutting the doors to the bathroom.

"That was brilliant," she said, throwing her head back and laughing. "Oh, God, I really enjoyed that. Even if you didn't really land a blow."

I grinned.

"How did you remember what I said?" she asked, trying to calm her giggling.

"The foul, loathsome thing?" She nodded. "How could I forget? After you punched him in the nose, I think of those words every time I see him."

She doubled over. "I swear, I wish I could do it again."

ϟ ϟ ϟ

I entered the library, peeking around for Madam Pince. She was nowhere to be found.

Ah, there.

Tracey Davis was bent over a book, her quill flying across the page. I made my way towards her, pulling up a chair and taking a seat.

"Essay?" I asked, setting my books down on the table.

She paused, looking up at me with panicked blue eyes.

"Six pages! Due tomorrow! Forgot!" She groaned, looking back down to continue writing.

"Tracey," I said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder, "take a deep breath. You've lost the ability to speak in full sentences. Look at me."