"Mr Potter, why didn't you tell Finnigan to put the bat spleen in first? Ten points from Gryffindor. For your complete inability to pay attention."
"I expect two rolls of parchment on how Reparifarge can be used; and why knowing counter curses and reversal spells should always come before practice".
"WEASLEYS! POTTER! I'll find you make no mistake. Mrs. Norris, my sweet, we'll catch them."
Yes, the Christmas holidays were well and truly over. The Weasley triplets were once again stirring up trouble, McGonagall was setting ridiculous amounts of homework and Snape was being…well…Snape.
The thing that had Elizabeth most concerned, however, was that the 'Golden Trio' had almost at once started, taking every spare minute, to skim books looking for the wizard know as Nicolas Flamel.
However, the new term bought with it the return of the quidditch season. That would keep one of them preoccupied at least. And boy, was she right. Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the incessant rain didn't seem to dampen his spirits.
The twins had spent the last few practices complaining that Wood was becoming a fanatic.
They had traipsed into the Gryffindor Common Room, after one particularly brutal practice, soaking wet from head to toe. With no regards for the fact that he was leaving small puddles everywhere he went, Fred plopped himself down beside her on the couch and all but demanded a foot rub. A demand she, not so politely, declined.
"Bugger off!" she said running away from him as he removed his socks and trainers. "I'd like to survive the night thank you very much."
This went down as well as could be expected. What followed was twenty minutes of hilarity in the Gryffindor common room; as Fred had taken to chasing Elizabeth, brandishing a sodden sock, with a rather poetic cry of "Ah dear sister, you have forsaken me to my watery fate, O the shame!"
Lee and George, for their part, had taken to blocking the only two exits to the room; with the simple explanation of "Sorry, Izzy, but you have abandoned one of our own in his time of need. You must pay the price."
The whole thing ended, of course, with Elizabeth kneeling on the common room floor, amid gales of laughter from their fellow housemates; giving both smug looking Weasleys an arms-length and extremely resigned foot rub. How George had managed to weasel his way into that one she wasn't sure; when it came to him, she never was, but somehow, he always did.
That aside, she could understand Wood's reasoning. If Gryffindor won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they could overtake Slytherin in the house championships, for the first time in seven years. Even though a part of her couldn't help but cheer for Cedric, who just happened to be the Hufflepuff seeker, by Merlin did she want to win. If only to wipe the smug smirk off of Malfoy's face.
When it came to Malfoy, she was pretty sure he was more of a riddle than Snape. She had specifically used her new quill, in potions one day, in hopes that it would work as a silent thank you.
It seemed to, as Draco answered by getting out a familiar notebook, embossed on the front were the words; 'Sir Draco of the Dungeons'. Stupid she knew, but given his gift it seemed like they were on the same page. Then of course he would spend every chance he got insulting Harry and the Weasley's and ignoring her at every turn. Same page maybe, but definitely different books.
She was distracted from all this, however, after one practice the week before the game. Harry stormed into the common room, before any of the rest of the team made it back, and made a beeline straight for her, Ron and Hermione.
Ron had, for the hundredth time, been beating Hermione at wizard's chess and clearly didn't see the 'I have bad news' look plastered all over Harry's face.
"Don't talk to me a minute… I need to concentrate," he said as Harry sat down next to him.
Elizabeth, however, had. "Harry, what's wrong? You look awful."
This broke Ron and Hermione from their, quite frankly, pointless battle. Wizard's Chess was the only thing Hermione lost at, and she couldn't even do that by half. No, she lost every single time… and badly.
All three were looking expectantly at Harry.
"Snape's refereeing."
"Don't play!" Hermione immediately responded.
"Pretend to be ill!" Ron exclaimed.
"Pretend to break your leg." Hermione suggested.
"Actually break your leg!" They both exclaimed in unison, as if this was the most normal and obvious solution to the situation at hand.
The idea of Ron and Hermione wholeheartedly agreeing on something, would usually have made her laugh. In that moment, however, she found herself rolling her eyes and thinking 'here we go again.'
"I can't, we don't have a spare seeker. If I don't play, Gryffindor can't play at all!"
Elizabeth bit her tongue to hold back the "I'LL DO IT!" that was dying to burst free, in favour of saying what was really on her mind.
"Oh, that's right, I forgot; Professor Snape is a murderous lunatic, that is stupid enough to kill a student in front of the whole school. Well, do tell me how that goes, won't you?"
She had risen during her tirade, planning to storm off, when Neville toppled into the common room. How he'd managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs appeared to be stuck together with, what they all recognised at once as, the leg-locker curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way to the Gryffindor tower.
The entire common room burst out laughing, but Elizabeth, already having developed a foul mood, found herself once again rolling her eyes. She was beginning to wonder if she might do herself an injury.
"Oh, shut up, the lot of you, back to your knitting. Honestly, Neville. Finite Incantatem!"
As Neville's legs sprang apart, Elizabeth didn't fail to notice Hermione's look of surprise. What? Elizabeth knew spells too.
On account of the aforementioned foul mood, she chose to ignore it and instead turned to Neville.
"Do I even need to ask?" She questioned, already knowing where this was going. Was the entirety of Hogwarts determined to put her in a bad mood today?
"It was Malfoy," said Neville, confirming what she'd already guessed. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."
Unsurprisingly, Hermione's answer, 'Go to Professor McGonagall,' fell on deaf ears.
"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron said. "He's used to walking all over people but that's no excuse to lie down and make it easier for him."
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy already did that."
Elizabeth felt her anger wane as she looked at Neville, he seemed so defeated.
"Your job as a friend …is to stand beside those you care about as they walk that path and be there when they fall…"
She could hear her mother in her head and all traces of bad mood where gone. Clasping the doe chain in her hand, thinking a small thank you, she walked over to sit across from Neville.
"Now, come on Neville. That's not what Ron's saying."
"But it's true!" Neville replied tearfully.
"No, it's not! Look, a wonderful woman gave me a piece of advice recently, she said 'it's the people whom people imagine the least of, that do the things people can't imagine.' "
Neville seemed to ponder this for a second, and a small smile started to appear on his face. He had understood.
"That's you, Neville. You're going to show them. Maybe not today, or tomorrow or even next year. But one day you will do something that they couldn't imagine in their wildest dreams. And we'll be stood next to you. Proud to be your friends."
"Here you go, Neville. It's my last one." Harry said handing Neville the last chocolate frog, from the pack Hermione had bought him for Christmas. The tears had begun to roll down Neville's cheeks, but he was still smiling as he took the chocolate frog from Harry, with a small 'thank you', and began to open the wrapper.
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."
Neville looked around at the four faces smiling back at him. "Thanks guys…I think I'm just going to go to bed…Harry, you want the frog card, you collect them, don't you?"
As Neville walked away Harry looked at the card in his hand.
"Dumbledore, again!" Harry exclaimed "That's almost three of…"
Harry gasped. He stared back at the card. Elizabeth's eyes grew wide, she had hundreds of that card, and she knew what Harry had seen. This would not end well.
"I've found him!" Harry whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read his name before. Listen to this: "Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald, in 1945; for his discovery of the twelve uses of Dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel"!"
Hermione jumped to her feet. Elizabeth should have known she would be able to expand on that somehow. This day was beginning to feel like a game of chess. She had the strange feeling she was losing.
Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before Hermione returned, clutching an enormous old book in her hands.
"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading."
"Light?" Ron and Elizabeth intoned, her disbelief at Hermione's statement drawing her from her inner turmoil.
Hermione told them to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking through pages, muttering to herself.
At last, she found what she was looking for.
"I knew it!"
"We allowed to speak now?" Elizabeth often wondered if Ron has a death wish.
Hermione, however, had chosen to ignore him and began to read:
"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered, dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"
And there it was, the thing Elizabeth had been trying to guide them away from for months. Only one thing was going through her head in that moment, 'Hagrid, you really shouldn't have said that!'
"The what?" came from both boys sat neat her, once again and unsurprisingly she rolled her eyes.
"Honestly, don't you two read?" Hermione said. A question to which they both already knew the answer.
She pushed the book towards them, and they read:
The ancient study of Alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the elixir of life, which will make the drinker immortal.
There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera-lover. Mr Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight.)
"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. "That dog must be guarding the Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him because they're friends and he knew someone was after it. That's why he wanted the stone to be moved out of Gringotts!"
Elizabeth was starting to get more than a little worried. Who did these three think they were? Were they actually considering going against someone who had managed to break into Gringotts? It was suicide.
"A stone that make anything into gold and stops you dying!" said Harry "No wonder Snape's after it!"
And the other shoe dropped. Something in her couldn't deny that Snape was definitely a part of this somehow; but did they not think he might be one of the people protecting the stone. That, on Halloween, he was making sure no one was trying to steal it, in all the troll commotion, and that's how he got scratched. She knew her pleas would fall on deaf ears, so she stayed quiet.
She knew what she had to do.
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that 'Recent Developments in Transfiguration' book!" At this, Elizabeth noticed the realisation cross Hermione's face and a suspicious look sent her way. "I mean he's hardly recent is he."
xxxx
Later that night, after borrowing Hedwig from Harry, Barney already being off on a delivery; Elizabeth stood at the girl's dorm window, watching the graceful creature fly off into the night, hoping she was doing the right thing.
Elizabeth got into bed; most people were still up but her and Hermione, who was also climbing into her four poster, had decided to call it a night. A quiet silence fell over the two, as they both led staring at the ceiling. It was not a comfortable silence.
Sighing and leaning on her elbows, Elizabeth turned to face Hermione. It was time.
"Just say it Hermione!"
"You knew, didn't you?" she hadn't moved. It was as if she was asking the heaven's not Elizabeth, but they both knew that wasn't true.
"Yes."
Silence.
With a sigh, Hermione too propped herself up on her elbows and turned to face Elizabeth.
"Why?"
"Because, honestly, I'm afraid you three are going to get yourselves killed. I didn't see any harm in trying to delay that."
"But the stone could be in danger, don't you want to help protect it."
Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did everyone in the place have a split personality? This was the same girl who, only a week ago, had yelled at Elizabeth for sneaking out after hours, with George, to grab a midnight snack from the kitchens. Honestly, she was starting to think she was a terrible judge in character. At this point, Elizabeth had enough.
"That's not our job! Dumbledore has placed it here for a reason. Do you really think you three know better? It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore. I do, so you guys do what you want, but don't expect me to help. Good night!"
And that, as they say, was that.
xxxx
The next morning, in Defence Against the Dark arts, things between Elizabeth and Hermione were still a little icy. It seemed, however, the 'Golden Trio' had more important things to think about. While copying down different ways to treat Werewolf bites, a topic with which she was not unfamiliar, Elizabeth overheard Harry and Ron discussing what they would do with a Philosopher's Stone. It wasn't till Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that she noticed Harry remember about Snape and the coming match.
"I'm going to play" Harry told them. "If I don't, all the Slytherin's will think I'm just scared to face Snape."
Elizabeth's 'well, from where I'm sitting, you are!' was ignored, save a few glares in her direction.
"I'll show them," he said "It'll really wipe the smiles off their faces when we win."
"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the pitch."
After that things went decidedly quiet.
Elizabeth was getting increasingly more annoyed by the minute. The next morning found them all stood in the quidditch stands, wrapped in their hats and scarves against the freezing January winds, waiting for the match to begin. Neville, who was sat next to her, however, was wearing only one glove. She had a feeling she knew what he'd forgotten today.
It was not the weather, however, that had dampened her spirits; but the two idiots stood next to her.
"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis." Hermione muttered.
"I know, I know. Don't nag!" Said Ron.
It appeared that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker curse. They seemed to have gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any signs of hurting a teacher. So …a midnight snack was taking it too far but attacking a teacher…meh.
Elizabeth tried to block them out by using her binoculars to see who she could make out in the stands. She caught sight of Susan Bones, who was wearing a rather impressive badger hat, showing her house pride. She couldn't help but giggle, as she waved back at Lee in the commentators box, who had just happened to be scanning the crowd at the same time.
Then, she saw it. She couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"She's officially lost it!" Ron said looking at her bewildered.
She passed the binoculars.
"Look over there, idiots. Still think Harry's in trouble."
Sitting in the front row of the teacher's stands was none other than Albus Dumbledore himself.
"Ha…" said Ron, "maybe that's why Snape's in such a mood." For Ron had now directed the binoculars down at the pitch.
Snatching them back, Elizabeth looked down herself. She had to admit, Snape did not look happy.
"I've never seen him look so mean," Said Hermione.
"Hey, look, they're off! Ouch!" Someone has poked Ron in the back of the head.
"Oh, Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy smirked at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to manage to stay on his broom this time? Fancy a bet, Weasley?" Elizabeth was gritting her teeth. She was not in the mood for this side of him today.
Ron, however, didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George had hit a bludger at him. She supposed that was fair. Hermione, who had all her finger's crossed in her lap, was too focused on Harry to notice anything else around her; they both watched as he circled the pitch like a hawk, watching foe any sign of the Snitch.
"You know how I think they chose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy, a few moments later; as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty, this time, seemingly, because he felt like it. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got not parents," Elizabeth's hands balled into fists. "Then there's the Weasley's who've got no money. You should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."
Elizabeth whirled around; but what happened next, she had not expected.
"Shut up, Malfoy! I'm worth twelve of you!" Elizabeth could feel the smile spreading over her face as she watched Neville.
"You tell him, Neville!" Shouted Ron, still not daring to take his eyes of the game.
"Longbottom, if brains were money, you'd be poorer than Weasley!"
That was it!
Elizabeth had intended to dive at Malfoy, but found she couldn't move. Even though Hermione's focus was still solidly on the game, she had a surprisingly strong grip on the back on Elizabeth's coat.
Unfortunately, she had not manage to grab a hold of Ron; who, last nerve frayed from worrying about Harry, snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening; Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Elizabeth watched in amazement as, after a few moments of hesitation, Neville climbed over his chair to help.
Her moment of pride would have lasted longer, if it hadn't been for the deafening roar that had developed around her. Turning back to the game, she noticed that Harry had gone into a spectacular dive, streaking towards the ground like a bullet.
"Come on, Harry!" Her and Hermione screamed. Elizabeth wasn't sure at what point she had grabbed Hermione's hand; but they were both jumping up and down cheering Harry on. Quidditch really did have a way of bringing people together.
That being said, the war of the quidditch stands waged on behind them. Both girls were so focused on the game, as Harry appeared to be speeding straight at Snape – they didn't notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under their seats, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.
Back in the game, Snape turned just in time to see a streak of scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches. Next second, Harry pulled out of his dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.
The stands erupted, Elizabeth and Hermione were jumping up and down hugging, screaming just as loudly as everyone else.
"Ron! Where are you?" Elizabeth shouted.
"The game's over! Harry won! We won!" Hermione screamed.
Even from so far away, Elizabeth could see the joy and relief on Harry's face. The game had barely lasted five minutes. He'd done it. Looking through her binoculars, Elizabeth could see the teams reach the pitch, and there was Dumbledore; clearly congratulating Harry on a job well done. She was about to put the binoculars down, when she caught the wink Dumbledore sent in her direction and with that he turned and headed back to the castle.
The game was over.
xxxx
Forty-five minute later, Elizabeth, Ron and Hermione were still in the Great Hall waiting for Harry. Most of the team had already filed past, heading to the celebrations taking place in the common room. If she was being honest, Elizabeth was starting to get a little concerned. He never usually took this long.
So needn't worry long, however.
"Harry! Where have you been?" Hermione exclaimed.
Looking at him she could see something had happened. She made a quick memo to herself, 'teach Ronald to gauge his audience,' as before she could ask Harry what was wrong; Ron cut in.
"We won! You won!"
"Yes, I think he's aware of that Ronald!" Hermione chuckled, but Ron just glared at her and continued.
"Guess what? I gave Malfoy a black eye! And Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle – single-handed! He's still out cold of course, but Ol' Pomfrey said he'll be fine. Talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party. George has stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."
"Never mind that now," a foreboding sensation had settled in Elizabeth's stomach at Harry's tone. "Let' find an empty room. I've got something to tell you."
Heading into the nearest empty classroom and making sure the door was shut behind them; Harry began.
"I saw Snape heading into the Forbidden Forest."
"What?" said Ron and Hermione.
Elizabeth stayed quite; that foreboding sensation in her stomach slowly bubbling into anger.
"So…I followed him."
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry! Snape is the potions master. Do you have any idea the thousands of ingredients you can find in that forest. And even if that's not why he was there, what if he caught you?" Elizabeth's anger bubbled out of her before she could stop it.
"He was too suspicious to just be doing his job! And I'm not an idiot; I flew!"
"Oh, this just keeps getting better! I'd love to hear your definition of an idiot!"
"Shut up, would you! Let the man speak!" Ron had decided to join in.
"He wasn't alone." All three looked at Harry, the anticipation almost too much.
"He was with Quirrell."
"Quirrell?" all three yelled, each as confused as the other.
"They were talking about the stone. He asked Quirrell if he'd found a way past Fluffy yet?" Hermione gasped and Ron looked more focused than Elizabeth had ever seen him. She was glad she had chosen to lean against the nearest desk; for it felt like the floor had just been pulled out from under her. Slowly, she raised herself until she was sitting atop the rickety table.
How could she have got it so wrong? Was she wrong about everyone here? Was it her? Even her mother has said, in her letter, Snape could be trusted. But that had been a long time ago. Could people change that much. She had never felt so lost. Suddenly, she found herself questioning everyone and everything.
Ron's voice broke her out of her thoughts.
"So, you're telling me, the stone is only safe as long as quivering Professor Quirrell stands up to Snape."
What came out of her mouth next surprised even her. But she couldn't doubt her words, for all intent and purpose they seemed true.
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday!"
xxxx
Elizabeth couldn't focus on anything for the rest of that day. Her mind was throwing a million different questions at her, none of which she could answer. She wanted to scream or yell or anything. She wanted to tell someone what was going on in her head. She knew the trio wouldn't understand; they never trusted Snape in the first place.
The twins were still flying high from that day's win, she didn't want to bring them down. She felt completely alone.
Then a thought popped into her head. Within seconds, the thought had become a plan. Within minutes of conceiving the plan, she decided she needed to be committed. But she was going to follow it through. Maybe it would work. Maybe it wouldn't.
She was desperate. It was worth a try.
She headed down to dinner early. She almost inhaled her pork chops and mash potatoes and, after claiming she didn't want pudding, earning some concerned looks from the twins (she'd have some explaining to do later,) she made her excuses. She almost ran to the library, grabbed a good book, and was sat on her reserved bench in the dungeons before anyone else had even left the great hall.
She knew this was the only route to the Slytherin Common Room.
No-one paid any attention to her as they filed past her after dinner. Until, at last, the halls were empty. Silence.
She knew she had two hours before curfew.
All she could do now, was wait.
For a moment, she thought she had been an idiot even trying this stupid plan; when, suddenly she heard footsteps.
They were getting louder.
They were right next to her.
They stopped.
She didn't move.
She heard the door to the classroom opposite her being opened. She looked up and saw him peak inside, probably checking for Peeves. He walked in.
She took this as her cue to follow; so, she did.
She sat atop the nearest desk and watched as he closed the door behind them. He turned to face her.
"Nice black-eye" she said, trying to diffuse the tension.
He swaggered over to lean against the wall across from her.
"Don't worry, we're only in first year. I've got plenty of time to get him back."
Silence.
"So, get it over with then," Elizabeth just stared at him.
"What?"
"You're here to yell at me, aren't you? For picking on your precious Gryffindorks."
That was all it took, and the floodgates opened.
"What is wrong with you? Why does everything have to be about you?"
"Excuse me!" Draco replied, this time it seemed the conversation was not going the way he expected.
"Oh, don't give me that confused look. The only reason you are in this stupid feud with Harry is because he's better than you. Because he outshines you!"
"Oh, you're one to talk. Who wasn't going to the game, because they were so outshined by dear baby brother!" He had her there.
"Yes, and I admitted it, I'm an idiot. I'll hold up my hands to that. But you! It's like there's two of you and I don't know which one I'm getting from one day to the next!" She was on autopilot now, the whole day coming down on top of her. She couldn't stop even if she'd tried.
"What is that even supposed to mean?"
"You start by insulting my family, the next we are having a conversation as if we have been friends for years, they you go to completely pretending I don't exist. Then, out of nowhere, you are sending me fabulous Christmas presents! I mean come on, what do you want here, do you even know?" Draco could tell the question was rhetorical, and he was glad, he didn't have an answer. He, however, had been here before. She was getting to what the real problem was, he knew the best thing he could do now, for both of them, was shut up.
"I am so sick of it. Hermione was this shy little mouse, and then suddenly she's this bossy know it all. And she's yelling at me for sneaking out and, next thing you know, she's teaching how to attack a teacher 101." Draco knew he was going to need her to expand on that at some point, but now was, clearly, not the time.
"and don't get me started on the other two idiots." Draco immediately wanted to smirk, but decided he didn't have a death wish, so just continued to listen.
"Ron, Oh, Ronald spends his whole life feeling overshadowed apparently; so much so that he sees himself better than everyone else in that stupid mirror; that doesn't work by the way!" Now Draco was really lost.
"But Harry comes along and suddenly he's desperate to play sidekick!" at this point she was almost hyperventilating. " And Harry, he spent a whole night at Christmas telling me how he hates being the celebrity and he'd rather no one knew who he was- but give him the chance to be a hero and he just can't help sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong; with no regard to whose faith it may be shattering in the meantime." She was starting to wind down now, but Draco was at a loss, all he could do was stare.
"I'm surrounded by people I love and care about and somehow, I've never felt more alone. And what's even more stupid, is the first person to pop into my head when I tried to think of someone who might understand, was you!" she laughed aloud. "Further proof, I am in fact an idiot. You know what, forget it." She started to make her way to the door, having reached the point where she couldn't quite remember how she got there in the first place.
As Elizabeth grabbed the doorknob, she looked back.
"If you figure out what you want, let me know. Until then, stay away from me. There's enough thing's in my life I can't figure out right now. At least you can be one less."
And with that she left, tears beginning to stream down her face as she ran back to the Gryffindor Common Room, through the celebrations, missing George's shouts of concern. She fell into bed, clutching the letter that had been tucked under her pillow and for the first time in a long time, felt truly alone.
Draco had stayed, glued to the spot, for a while after she had left. The empty classroom suddenly eerie in comparison to the weight of the words it had held, only moments ago. Draco had been left with the distinct impression that, what had just happened, had little to do with him. But that didn't mean what she said hadn't hit him just as hard.
Eventually, he snapped out of it and, with his mind in a thousand different place, he left the classroom to head back to the Slytherin common room.
Both had been far too preoccupied to see the dark pair of eyes, watching them from the shadows. He prised himself on his composure, but what he had just witnessed left him shook. The memories were streaming through his mind. Things he thought he had store away a long time ago, back to haunt him with a vengeance. Strangers to friends. Friends to enemies. He was resolved. It couldn't happen again. He wouldn't let it. History would not repeat itself.