two can keep a secret,

chapter eleven.

Lilith.

I stand up from my spot next to Warrington on the couch. He furrows his brows and tries to grab my hand. "Where are you going?" he asks.

"My dad's," I state, grabbing my bag and draping my robes over the loveseat arm. "I gotta talk to him before I go to detention." I start walking away from the couch.

"Wait," he says, standing up. I turn to him and mess with my wand, trying to put it in my combat boot. "You have detention? With who?"

"Umbitch," I say, and he furrows his brows more. Blaise chuckles. "Fuck off, Zabini," I mutter.

"Hey, you were asking to get detention," he says. "I'm surprised she didn't give it to you when you said that what you read was bullshit." I shrug. "Or that she didn't give you a longer detention time."

I turn and start walking out of the common room. "She might think I'll tell my dad."

☯︎︎

"You got detention again," Dad says as soon as I enter his classroom.

"Yeah, I did," I say, sitting down at one of the desks. "She was getting on my nerves."

"You're reckless," he says, tapping a stack of papers on the desk to get them even. "You can't be doing this kind of stuff. And, as much as I don't like her, you still need to be half way decent to her."

I laugh. "Dad, believe me. This is me being half decent. If she wants horrible, I can give her horrible, no problem."

He shakes his head and smiles a little. "You called what she was teaching bullshit."

"I did," I say, nodding. "This book that she's making us read is just stupid. I talks about, in theory, what we should do in case we get attacked. We don't actually learn how to defend ourselves."

He looks up at that and raises a brow, then puts his quill down and pushes the piece of parchment to the side. "Give me that book." I get up and grab the book from my bag. Setting it down on his desk, he starts to flip through and read through some of it. "Oh," he says, reading more. "You're right. This is bullshit."

"I know right!" I exclaim.

He closes the book and hands it back to me, shaking his head. "I'm loosing braincells reading that," he says as I grab the book from him.

"It's ridiculous," I say, stuffing it back in my bag. "She assigns us reading and then we have to discuss with the person that's sitting at our table. Woo, woo, more time to talk with Riddle," I say sarcastically. "I mean, whatever. I sit by him in here, not that I enjoy it. But I have to sit by him in so many other classes that it makes me want to bash his head in."

"We all put you two next to each other for a reason," he says, starting to write on his parchment again.

"Why though?" I ask, and he shakes his head, not answering me. "Daddddd."

He shrugs. "You'll find out soon enough, Lily. Just wait it out. That's what us teachers are doing with the two of you in order to achieve our goal."

I groan, grabbing my bag. "Whatever," I grumble, starting towards the door.

"Lily."

I stop and turn to him. "Hm?"

"Are you busy tomorrow night?" he asks, glancing at me.

"Other than my detention with Blobfish, no."

"So, could you reorganize my potions closet after your detention? I have hall duty."

I nod. "Yeah, I can do that. I'll be out after curfew though."

He smiles to himself. "When has that ever stopped you?"

☯︎︎

I sit down at the desk in Umbridge's office, and I start writing the same line over and over again. My hand burns from writing so much, while the other one throbs. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my breathing steady. I've been at this for hours, and it's well past curfew.

Finally, she tells me that I can stop.

"Is the message clearer this time?" she asks as I swing my bag over my shoulder.

"Maybe to you, but never to me."

With that, I walk to the Slytherin common room and move my wrist, trying to get more feeling int othe rest of my body and not just my hand.

"Out late again, are we?" Riddle asks.

I jump slightly and turn to him. He's sitting on the loveseat with a cigarette in his mouth. His side is facing me, so he isn't looking directly at me. I move my hand behind my back. I don't know why I care if he knows about it.

"Did you cut your hand again?" he asks, raising a brow as he turns his face to look at me, putting the cigarette in his mouth again. He's mocking me. Asshole.

"No," I say.

"Oh, the truth? I didn't think you could tell it."

"Fuck off."

"What'd you do to it that makes you hide it?" he asks.

I shrug. "Nothing to do with you. It hasn't completely healed. It was a pretty deep cut." He nods, putting the cigarette back in his mouth.

He stands up and walks over to me. He stops in front of me and tilts his head down at me. Damn height difference. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he blows the smoke into my face. "How do you lie so much, yet you still seem to tell the truth?"

I shrug, trying to cover my hand with my shirt. "I'm not lying."

He hums. "Why are you dating that douchebag?"

I scoff and shake my head. "I hardly think that my love life is any of your business." I turn to leave and he grabs my right wrist, gripping it and pulling me back to the space in front of him. "You can't interfere with my relationships, Riddle. Now, let me go so I can sleep."

"I remember telling you that I don't listen to orders."

"I'm not going to ask you to let me go."

After a minute of just staring at each other, he lets me go. I turn my back on him and start towards the stairs, being careful to hide my bleeding hand.

Although I'm pissed at him, I can't help but smile when I pass the bulletin board and see his name on the quidditch try out sheet.