Lumos

9| Butterbeer

These days, I found myself hanging out with the Gryffindors more than I ever wanted to. It was too bright and happy. Red. Red everywhere. The dungeons were better than this.

We sat in the Great Hall, eating breakfast.  As I watched Ron, Harry, and Hermione talk, I could only remember one thing Malfoy said to me.

"Seems like the Weasley doesn't like you much."

I watched Ron Weasley sit quietly, watching his friends speak. The more I paid attention, the more I realized he wouldn't talk when I was around. When I entered the room, he fell completely silent, as if jinxed by Silencio. I frowned.

His eye caught mine and he frowned, focusing his attention back on Harry. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Harry, just leave it alone."

"He's a right git. It's like he stomped on my face all over again," Harry growled.

"Who stomped on your face? When did this happen?" I asked, finally tuning in on their conversation.

"Malfoy. On the Hogwarts Express. I was following him using the invisibility cloak and he found out it was me." Harry took an angry bite of egg, chewing fast.

"Well, have you ever thought the problem may be that we're getting into his business too much? I mean we keep following him around," I pointed out. "I'm not saying he's all that great, but honeslty, he hasn't come chasing after the three of you for a while now." I took a sip juice.

Ron had a look of disgust on his face, but he didn't say a word. I felt heat swirling in me. Calm down, Steele. Don't push him.

"Well, it's not like he's a great person. Him being quiet means he's definitely up to something," Hermione said, brushing a lock of curly hair behind her ear. She leaned forward to take a bite from her sandwich.

"I know," I said. "That's true."

"Oh, stop pretending!" Ron finally said, letting the fork in his hand fall against the plate with a clatter.  "Why her?" he asked his friends, pointing at me. "Her, of all people? I know you helped us, but, come on. We know who's side you're on. Why don't you bloody show us your arm to prove you're not on their side either?" he said with a scoff.

"Ron, stop it," Hermione said, grabbing his arm. "Sit down."

"No, I know where he's coming from," I assured them. "Look." I rolled up my left sleeve. It was blank. Ron motioned to my right arm. With a roll of my eyes, I showed them that one too. "Am I clear?" I let my eyes flicker to the Slytherin table. Malfoy was watching me, his eyes on my uncovered arms. Agh. To him, this could look like a pledge of allegiance, only pushing me further from him.

"For now," Ron said with a half sneer.

"Don't you have Quidditch today?" Hermione asked, desperately trying to change the subject. "Ron, you prepared?"

"Yeah. I've got my helmet out and everything." He peeked at me out of the corner of his eye. "If your stupid house starts singing that 'Weasley is our King' song, I will murder all of you."

I rolled my sleeves back down, propping my chin up on my palm, elbow on the smooth mahogany table. "I can't control them, but I can apologize from before. They're brilliant singers though, I must say."

Hermione shot me a warning look. "Incoming."

"What? Where?" I turned, only to see Malfoy leaning over my shoulder. I clutched my heart in surprise, holding back a scream.

"Hanging out with your new friends, eh Steele?" he said in his usual obnoxious tone. "On this table where you belong," he patted the wood. "Don't bother coming back over there. We don't need you."