Malfoy Amongst The Chaos

Out In The Open

Parvati huffed haughtily and stood up, pulling on Lavender's arm. They both stalked out, complaining loudly to one another.

"We have to do something, Ron," she says, angrily.

Ron's eyes were wide and he and Harry had just shared a nervous look. He dropped his toasted sandwich onto his plate, "Er – like what?"

"We're prefects!" she shrilled in answer, "We'll confiscate them." A group of third years bustled past and she leapt up from the table, "I'll have that, thank you."

More ashes filtered down onto the tabletop and Ron swallowed the last of his sandwich loudly. Harry grimaced half-heartedly in my direction – I felt my lips twitch, glancing back to where Hermione was incinerating a third newspaper.

I shrugged, "Well, I'm not complaining."

It was on my way to Potions that I really lost my temper.

In nobody else's hands had that newspaper made me so angry, than in Malfoy's. I hissed through my teeth, biting down on the rage of scarlet as his slim figure strutted away from our scheduled lesson.

"Wanda, where're you-?"

I didn't listen to whoever spoke, my heart was racing and that boy was getting away. "Malfoy!" I yelled.

The blonde jumped, glancing over his shoulder, and snarled when he saw me, "Get lost, Maximoff."

"Give me that paper," I demanded, clearing the staircase after him.

He gave a sharp chuckle and sped up, "Oh look, the psycho red demon is chasing me."

I caught sight of burning red irises as I stormed past a posing suit of armour and cooled it ever so slightly, "Yes and how nice it'll be when the psycho demon rids Hogwarts of its most hated student!" I snarled, we were now back on the same floor as the common room.

Malfoy flinched and skidded to a halt.

His cheeks were flushed and his hands trembled nearly as much as mine as he stared down at me. Hatred grew in my chest, magic pounding so fiercely that my ribs began to ache. I glared back at him, my jaw locked as I noticed his skin was coated in sweat, his hair uncharacteristically out of place, and the prominent purple bags hanging under his eyes like bruises.

There was something wrong with him, but I didn't care.

"You give me that newspaper right now," I said, my voice tremouring.

He didn't move or answer for a very long moment, his set jaw twitching as he stared me down. "And why would I do that?" he sneered.

My scalp prickled and this uneasy feeling sunk into my bones as I watched him glare at me with such venom and such hatred. I swallowed as my magic fizzled and simmered back from the surface, the feeling it left behind, cold and shivery.

Then suddenly, his silvery eyes glanced over my head and his face paled. He immediately backed away and disappeared around the corner; I turned around.

"Ah, Wanda," Dumbledore greeted softly. He strode serenely down the empty corridor, his long beard and robes swaying peacefully, "Shouldn't you be with Professor Slughorn?"

I'd forgotten all about that. "Um, I was just..."

The headmaster bowed his head, knowingly. "There is no need for excuses," he murmured, gesturing with his hand to the nearest staircase. I made to follow it, shifting my robes awkwardly as they caught on a scabbed wound underneath. "Wanda?"

I paused my descent, glancing back. "Yes, professor?"

"Mind how you act in Professor Slughorn's company."

Of course. It wasn't a coincidence that Dumbledore had bumped into me – nor was he at all expecting me to be anywhere but this corridor.

"Yes professor." I replied, and turned away from his unwavering gaze.

That – I would assume – was a warning.

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