Malfoy didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Charlie's opinion, as though he was the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.
"How is it, Draco?" whimpered Pansy Parkinson as he approached her. "Does it hurt much?"
"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace, but Charlie saw him wink at Crabbe, Zabini and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.
What a prat.
"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.
Charlie, Harry, and Ron all scowled at one another at the sound of Snape's voice. If they walked in late, it would be detention for all of them regardless of the explanation, but Draco and the rest of the Slytherin's were heavily favoured by, ironically, their Head of House.
The brown eyed boy had always dreaded Potions because of Snape, but imagine his disinterest now that Malfoy was blatantly milking his injury and making Snape assign him, Harry, or Ron to do his work for him.
Charlie was currently at the Slytherin station, skinning a Shrivelfig as fast as he could so he could move far away from the person he disliked the most. However, the blonde haired Slytherin had a smirk plastered on his face that was broader than ever.
"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" he asked him quietly.
"None of your business," snapped Charlie, without looking up.
"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," said Malfoy, in a tone of mock sorrow. "Father's not very happy about my injury -"
For the first time Charlie looked up and clenched his jaw, "Keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury."
"- he's complained to the school governors. And even to the Ministry. My father's got a lot of influence, as you know. And a lasting injury like this -" he gave a huge, fake sigh, " - who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"
"So that's why you're putting it on," said Charlie, accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking in anger. "To try and get Hagrid sacked."
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Draco smirked victoriously, "Well, I suppose the added benefit of watching you try so desperately hard to contain your anger is another reason. Remember, Hawthorne, your father isn't too keen on your anger outbursts. Better not give him another reason to be disappoin-"
Before Draco could finish, Charlie slammed his fists down on the table, causing everyone in the class to stop what they were doing and look over to the two of them. Charlie didn't dare meet anyone's gaze. He kept his head down as his shaking hand let go of the knife he was holding.
