Little Bird

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Eve

            The next day during Transfiguration, McGonagall had us practicing the spells we'd learned last year in partners, meaning I had to work with Zabini. Which was, to say the least, absolutely terrible.

            "I didn't get a chance to talk to you yesterday," Zabini said as he casually flipped opened his textbook, taking his time getting to the right page. I refused to glance over at him, staring down at the list of spells instead and getting out my wand. "You were ignoring me, I reckon."

            "Wonder why," I said coolly, positioning my wand in front of me.

            As I used the first spell to turn the matchbox McGonagall had given to us into a piece of parchment, I could practically feel Zabini smirking at me. He leaned against the desk to face me better, and he lazily turned the pages of his textbook as he asked in a smug voice, "Good summer, I take it?"

            I bit my lip hard to keep from snapping something to him, the matchbox now a neatly folded piece of paper. Did he know what had happened to me this summer? By his tone of voice, it was pretty obvious that he at least knew something. Managing to disguise the anger well, I replied evenly, "I've had better."

            "Really?" Zabini asked, finally reaching the right page in his textbook but not making a move to get out his wand. "That's surprising."

            He knew. He knew what had happened, it was obvious now—and he was making a joke of it. I pressed my lips into a thin line and started on the second spell, repeating to myself silently that all I had to do was ignore him and he would leave me alone.

            But that didn't happen. Zabini waited only a few seconds before continuing, "Well, aren't you gonna ask me how my summer was?"

            "No."

            "Why not?"

            "Why do you think?" I snapped, finally turning my head and giving him a cold glare. He was still giving me that infuriating smirk, making my distaste for him rise up and burn in my stomach. Couldn't he see that I clearly wanted nothing to do with him? I turned away from Zabini when he didn't say anything straight away, saying bitterly, "Just leave me alone."

            "I can't, we're working together," Zabini said, even though his wand was probably still buried somewhere in his pocket and he didn't seem to have any intention of working.

            Draco's idea of getting McGonagall to let me switch partners was starting to look better and better.

            I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything more to him, starting on the next spell and deciding this wouldn't be so bad if I just ignored him. Maybe McGonagall would pass by and tell him off for not doing anything.

          Zabini barely gave me two seconds of peace before saying, "I heard you aren't playing Quidditch. Too busy?"

            I didn't say anything, doing everything I could to block out his voice. If I listened to him for too long, I would end up strangling him.

            "Right," he grinned when I didn't respond. "Business for the Dark Lord, I get it."

            "Keep your fucking voice down," I hissed, slamming my wand down on the desk angrily and looking to make sure no one had heard. Everyone else was busy working with their partners, and no one had twisted in their seat to see what Zabini was talking about. Absolutely furious, I turned to glare heatedly at Zabini as he obnoxiously grinned over at me, snapping in a low voice, "Watch it, Zabini."