Lumos

8| Finite

"Congratulations on your win," I said, running to catch up with Malfoy's long legs.

"What are you doing here? Stalking me again, Blood Traitor?" He started walking faster. I sprinted ahead of him, blocking his path.

"First of all, don't call me that. I don't sympathize with muggles or anything like that, and you know it. It's not like I'm a Weasley, or . . . or something," I sputtered, giving him a nonchalant shrug.

He rolled his grey eyes, walking around me. His green robes fluttered around his ankles as he walked, Nimbus 2001 in hand.

"You know, you'll have to get a better broom for the next match against Gryffindor," I continued, keeping up with him, "Harry's got a Firebolt."

"Yeah, he got it three years ago, and I've beat him multiple times," Draco sneered. "Did I just hear you call him by his first name? What, are you friends now?"

"No, not at all," I waved my hands. "I'm just trying to make small talk."

"Go find someone else to talk to." He stopped, giving me a shove. I stepped back, nearly losing my balance.

"Don't touch me," I scowled. "I'm trying to be friendly." He walked in silence as if I hadn't said a word. Ah, the cold shoulder. "Where are you going?"

"Stop talking to me."

"You left the party early yesterday. Where did you go?"

Draco stopped, and for a moment I thought he was going to hit me with the broom. His jaw was set, his face twisting into a look of disgust and annoyance.

"What's it to you?" he said, taking a few steps towards me. "Did you follow me again?"

My back touched the cold wall. "You came with me. I was wondering where you disappeared."

He scoffed, almost in disbelief. "I was kicked out."

"By who?"

"Filch."

"If you don't mind me asking, why?"

"He thought I'd crashed the party. I wasn't going to stay somewhere I wasn't welcome."

"Did you make it seem like you were?"

"I was what?"

"Crashing the party?"

"Maybe." He raised an eyebrow. "Did you follow me?"

"No." I wasn't lying. Technically, I'd followed Harry.

"All you did was talk to that Mudblood and Potter anyway. Seems like the Weasley doesn't like you much."

What? Ron didn't like me? Suddenly, I felt horrified. "How would you know that?" I asked bravely. "Everyone likes me. I'm quite charming."

Draco laughed. He was laughing at me. "He avoids you. I could see him watching you and Potter speaking. The look on his face did not seem charmed by you at all. He doesn't want you there, Steele, or anywhere near his friends. Face it. You've been branded with the mark of the snake," he sneered. "They don't like you. The bad part for you is that we don't like you either."

"Who's we?" I spit back. "I've been here for five years. Take a look around you, Malfoy. No one has a problem with me except for you. I am pure-blooded. I have nothing to do with muggles. Or do you just hate me because I'm the only Slytherin that's not a Death Eater?" The moment the words left my mouth, I wished terribly that I could take them back. Obviously, that wasn't a factual statement, but I'd said it in the heat of the moment. Draco's lips were pursed, his eyes flaring with anger. He pulled out his wand, pointing it at me.