"Have you actually been able to read the book yet?" Lia asked Tracey.

They stood on the lamp lawns near Hagrid's hut, holding the Monster Book of Monsters in their hands, as they waited in anticipation for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

"No," Tracey moaned. "… Don't remind me of that ... that thing. It almost bit my hand off when I tried opening it! Bled all over my favourite top. I think I still have the scar."

Lia snickered, but tapered her eyes as she spotted Malfoy laughing with Crabbe and Goyle. He raised his arms, in an almost zombie like pose, that Lia guessed was meant to be a dementor. Malfoy glanced at Harry, who was walking with Ron and Hermione towards the grass, and chortled harder.

She held the textbook up in her hands, about to chuck it at the blonde boy.

"C'mon, now!" Hagrid called, his voice startled Lia. "I got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

They stopped in front of an empty paddock. "Everyone gather 'round the fence!" Hagrid boomed. "That's it – make sure yeh can see – now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do it open yer books –"

"How?" Malfoy interjected.

"Eh?"

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy looked annoyed. He pointed at his copy, which was bound tight with rope. Lia had belted hers firmly with the clasp.

"Hasn' … hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid looked a little dejected as the students all shook their heads.

"Crikey. Didn' yeh know? Yeh've only got ter stoke 'em. Look –"

He gently took Hermione's copy from her hands, and tore off the Spellotape that she had used to keep it closed. Unsurprisingly, the book attempted to ferociously bite at him, but as he ran his forefinger down the spine, the book seemed to purr. It fell open and lay quiet and docile in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" sneered Malfoy. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

Hagrid looked a bit dazed, and he said uncertainly to Hermione, "I-I thought they were funny."

"Oh, yes very funny!" said Malfoy, not looked amused at all, "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up Malfoy," Lia snapped to him, "Acting like a dick won't make yours any bigger."

He glared at her, and then pointed openly at her flat chest, "And you do realise that acting like a bitch won't make your tits any bigger?"

"Oh fuc-"

Hagrid cleared his throat. "Righ' then." He seemed to have lost whatever initial confidence he had had. "So – so yeh've got yer books an' … an' … now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on … "

He walked off into forest, presumably to summon the creatures that they would be studying. It turned out to be Hippogriffs – some of the most curious creatures that Lia had ever seen, having the appearance of enormous eagles, coupled with a horses' lower body, and long, sharp talons.

"Get up 'ere," Hagrid said, "Hippogriffs!" He smiled. "Beau'iful, aren' they? So if any of yeh wan' ter come a bit closer …"

Lia instinctively look a step backwards. Apparently all of the class, apart from Harry, had had the same idea, for he now was standing there at the front, by himself.

"Ah," said Hagrid, thinking that Harry had voluntarily taken a step forward, "Good man, 'arry. Right then – let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

Harry looked like he was biting back a groan, as he reluctantly approached the beast.

"Tha's it. Easy now … stop!" Harry looked at Hagrid in alarm. "It's alrigh'. Yeh just want ter let 'im make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Jus' take a step forward, give 'im a bow, and if Buckbeak bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn', then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Ready, Harry?"

Harry nodded, although he did not look very ready at all.

"Good. An' don't forget, yeh've got ter make eye contact … Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much …"

Despite the fact that the Hippogriff took a worryingly long time to bow to Harry, it wasn't long before her brother was soaring in the air on Buckbeak's back, a look of excited fear on his face. It wasn't much of a surprise really. Everyone always seemed to love Harry.

Lia watched with sneaking suspicion as Malfoy and Co. walked over to Buckbeak, once Harry dismounted. The Hippogriff had bowed to the boy, and Malfoy was now petting it on the beak.

"This is very easy," he drawled, prompting Lia to make her way over to them. She could tell that something bad was going to happen.

"I knew it much have been, if Potter could do it … I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you? Are you?" he taunted, staring the creature straight in the eye, "You great ugly brute."

What followed next, happened in a blur for Lia. She saw Buckbeak rear up in anger, about to slash Malfoy in half with its talons.

And the next thing she knew, she had shoved the boy away, taking the hardest impact of the blow. A burning, stinging sensation rippled up her arm.

Malfoy lay plonked on the grass, a bleeding cut on his left arm, whilst Lia stood in front of the Hippogriff, red liquid spilling from her wound, trying to raise her uninjured left arm in an attempt to calm the beast.

"It's okay, Buckbeak! I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she tried to make her voice sound soothing, even despite the pain from the laceration. "Malfoy's just always like that, you know? An awful little brat, and he's rude to everyone," she said. "He didn't mean to disrespect you, he's just ignorant and dumb and jealous."

The half-bird half-horse looked at her in an almost apologetic manner - it seemed to be saying sorry for hurting her, and nudged its head at her good arm. Hagrid slipped the collar back on the Hippogriff's head and tugged him away, his face chalk-white.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled, which scared the panicking class even more. "I'm dying. It's killed me! It's killed me!"

"Oh. Shut. Up. Malfoy," Lia snapped. "Don't be such a freaking cry-baby. I got the worse end of the stick, and I'm fine - you barely have a scratch." She was starting to feel a bit dizzy now.

"Lia!" Tracey said, looking light-headed as well. "Y-Your … your arm!"

She cursed as she glanced down.

The gash stretched from the end of her upper arm, to the middle of her forearm. It was deep enough that she swore she could see the side of a jagged white bone peeking out from beneath the flesh. Blood oozed from the cut, slowly but heavily; and the ribboned skin was already begin to swell and bruise.

She vaguely remembered thinking that she had probably damaged the blood vessels, before her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she collapsed.

Lia groaned as she regained consciousness, her arm ached, and her head was pounding. She squinted her eyes, trying to adjust to the light. She was lying on a bed in the hospital wing. As she slowly sat up, she spotted a blonde boy in the bed sitting next to her.

"Finally woken?" said Malfoy, smirking at her. "I thought that I'd have to catch you again when you fainted from fear."

"It wasn't fear!" Lia hissed, scowling in indignation. "It was blood loss."

"Sure."

"You should be more thankful! I just stopped Buckbeak from ripping out your guts!"

Malfoy frowned. "Why did you do that? … Save me, I mean."

The question stumped her. She paused.

"I-I … well I … obviously knew that you were going to make a big deal out of it! And I wasn't wrong. 'I'm dying'? Honestly, can you be any more overdramatic?"

"You still haven't answered my question," he pointed out.

"Well … I … I obviously knew that you'd go running to your father and try to get Hagrid sacked. But now you can't right? I got hurt too, so I can provide a first hand testimony of how everything was your fault."

"What? You mean to tell me that you got your arm cut open, just to save that bumbling oaf? I don't believe it for a second." He smiled wickedly. "You know what I think? -"

"No one cares what you think."

"I think, that you secretly do like me," he said, looking smug. "I think that you don't want to see me hurt."

"Of course you do … It's in your nature. After all, you have an enormous ego and a comparatively smaller I.Q. to match." Lia scoffed. "If I wanted to kill myself, I would climb to your ego and jump down to your I.Q."

"You haven't denied it."

"Oh would you sod off! What happened to you? You're always … always flirting now! It's disgusting. Almost as if someone's telling you to force yourself onto me or something."

His expression darkened for a second, but he shook his head.

"Maybe, I've just realised how attractive you are." He got up from the bed and leaned against the wall, as Lia stared at him with shock.

"Of course, not as good looking as I am," he said arrogantly. "But still, rather attractive. And," he leaned closer, so that she could feel his hot breath against her face. "Maybe I feel like taming the shrew."

Lia gulped. Malfoy's lips were inching closer and closer to hers. Instinctively, she pushed him away with one hand.

"Stop trying to sexually abuse me all the time!" she spat, when they were a safe distance apart. "Why can't you find someone else to bully with your fancy? I'm fucking sick of it!"

He grinned. "I know you love it, Agorios."

She snorted. "You really grow on people, don't you Malfoy?" His smirk broadened.

"But then again, so does cancer."

Malfoy gave a sudden laugh, and Lia gawked at him. The chuckle had lit up his face. It must have been the first time that she had seen him truly laugh, instead of snigger. He looked softer, more vulnerable. Malfoy seemed to realise what he was doing, and looked away.

"You're bloody annoying," he said. "I don't know how I find the strength to stand your prattling. But," he paused, looking lost in thought. "Sometimes it can be strangely charming."

"Are you playing a joke on me?" said Lia. "Because you're not funny."

She was kept in the hospital wing for an entire week, despite the fact that she told Madam Pomfrey again and again that she was perfectly fine.

The healer had narrowed her eyes, "Oh no you don't, Miss Agorios! You're not giving your body enough time to heal. I still remember in First Year, when you sneaked off from my care."

It didn't help that Malfoy was constantly there kicking up a fuss. She knew very well that his injury had to have been perfectly healed by now, for her own arm barely hurt anymore, but he seemed persistent in his attempts to stay in the wing for as long as he could.

"Don't you want to go back to class?" she asked him.

Malfoy snorted, "No."

"Or at least see your friends?"

"Maybe," he smirked,"But, you're my friend too, Lia. I much prefer your company, even if you are a vixen."

She threw her pillow at him, glowering.

Eventually, the two of them were allowed to return to their lessons, on the following Thursday morning. Lia had been trying to force Malfoy to hurry up – they were late for their potions class – but she suspected that he was purposely walking slowly to annoy her.

"How is it, Draco?" Haginson simpered, when they barged in mid-lesson, "Does it hurt terribly?"

"Yeah," Malfoy lied. He arranged his face into a strange expression that he probably thought looked heroic, but instead just made him seem as if he was shitting out diarrhoea.

"Settle down, settle down," said Snape.

"How was hospital?" Harry asked, as she set up her cauldron next to him, Ron and Hermione. They were attempting a Shrinking Solution today.

"Bad," said Lia. "Malfoy wouldn't stop whining."

Just as she said that, she saw Malfoy move over and plop himself down in a seat next to them, abandoning his own goonies: Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson.

"Sir," he called out, "sir, I'll need some help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm –"

Lia was just about to inform Snape that she knew there was nothing wrong with Malfoy, when she realised that she could use it to her own advantage.

"Professor Snape, sir, I'm even more injured!" she cried, and pretended to scan the room, finding Parkinson who was secretly sleeping on her desk. "I think I need Pansy to help me. She looks very idle over there."

"Weasley, Parkinson, go and cut up their roots," Snape said, still looking bored.

Pansy spluttered in anger, and stormed over. "There's nothing wrong with your arm."

Lia shook her head, sadly, "Pansy, Pansy, why even Malfoy said that his cut hurt! And he's so brave, isn't he? By that logic, my wound must be agonizing. So hurry up, and chop these roots will you? Don't dally now."

Parkinson's face turned a bright cherry red, and she hacked at the roots with such barely restrained rage, that Lia thought she had to be imagining that she was actually severing off her head. Lia looked over, and saw that Ron wore a similar look of fury.

"Professor," Malfoy said, "Weasley's mutilating my roots."

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But sir –"

"Now."

As Ron shoved his perfectly shredded roots to Malfoy, and glared at Lia, like it was her fault that he'd screwed himself over.

"Why didn't you stand up for me? Why didn't you tell Snape that Malfoy's arm was fine?" he hissed.

Lia gave him a sarcastic look of pity. "I hate Parkinson," she said.

"So? What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything," she shrugged. "… Don't deny me the chance to watch her suffer."

At Ron's betrayed expression, she sighed. "Alright, fine, I'm sorry. We can swap, if you want? Here, take the ones Haginson sliced for me." She pushed the pile over to Ron. "They're not much better, but at least they don't look like you threw them into a blender."

Ron grumbled, took the roots, and shot another dark glare at Malfoy.