ON GOING - RE-WRITING 2024
What was it that made the girl so extraordinary? Was it because she was a Harry Potter's best friend, or maybe it was because she was the most beautiful girl, blessed with the Diggory genes. Perhaps it was because she was...
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Everybody had been rattled over the last few weeks after hearing Harry speak Parseltongue. Even Camille had her doubts about Harry now, too. Though she knew he'd never deliberately hurt anyone, she wondered if being too close to him would accidentally set him off - that's if it was him of course. It didn't make things better for him the following days either. Harry had been spotted by Filch standing before a petrified Justin Finch Fletchley and a dead ghost...double dead.
Camille sat in the Common Room, finding her peace as the trio of boys were somewhere out in the castle. It was extremely late for them to be so but she knew those boys created their own rules sometimes and besides, no other House Prefect ever really came down into the basement to check the halls anyway. Not even Filch sometimes. Perhaps it was because Slytherin would always prank them massively or frighten them. Snape never took house points away from them either, and their own prefects would give warnings as if they existed.
Camille had just finished her Charms homework when the doors opened to reveal the very three she had been hoping wouldn't disturb her peace. Lucky for her, her homework was done and she was planning to head off to bed. Until....
Malfoy flopped on the couch beside her swinging his legs over her lap to stop her from moving away. He rested his arm on the backing of the chair, daring to tug at the ends of the girl's hair. She shot him a glare and he smirked. Camille pushed his legs off of her, standing up with crossed arms. "I'm not a servant you can tease."
"I wouldn't dream of it." He smirked even more. As he regained his position on the couch, he looked at Crabbe and Goyle who blankly stared at him. "Well, sit down."
The two awkwardly sat down and Camille furrowed her brows at them. Oddly so, Goyle smiled at her.
"You'd never know the Weasley's were pureblood the way they behave." Draco began, cocking his head slightly. "They're an embarrassment to the Wizarding World. All of them."
Crabbe looked like he was going to be sick, his knuckles tensing. Camille sat down on the opposite end of the couch to Draco, avoiding his route of vomit if he did so throw up. She knew if he did it would land right into Draco's lap. She chuckled at the thought.
"Stomach ache." Crabbed muttered after being nudged by Goyle beside him.
"There's nothing wrong with the Weasley's." Camille spoke, turning in the couch to copy Draco's position. "I grew up with them."
Draco flicked his eyes. "Oddly, my family seems to like your family. Well, except for your father. He's more Weasley than Diggory my father says."
He tapped Camille's foot with his own. She lifted her chin. "I thought we were past insulting one another."
He didn't want to argue with her. He knew he had put himself in a minefield with the girl. It was hard for him to maintain this persona in front of the boys when Camille was there. Perhaps in time and age Draco would see that loyalty comes better from genuine people who care for him and less from 'friends' who are more his followers.
