I was absolutely furious.
"Blaise!" I shouted stomping down the stairs to the common room. "Why is Hera missing from her cage?" He spun around, green eyes wide. Draco smirked, sat next to him. Blaise Zabini was the notorious owl thief. His owls always ended up getting lost on their way to deliver messages, and even, sadly, killed. After the loss of his fifth owl, he was banned from them.
"Borrow them from your friends!" He'd imitated his mother. "You don't even bother name them because they always end up dead the second day you buy them."
"Sorry, Elvira," he said, but he didn't seem very apologetic. "She was right there and I needed her for a very important message, if you know what I mean."
"If she end up dead, I will destroy you," I said to him. "She's lasted five years with me. Do not take away her sixth year of happiness."
"Oh, come off it," he said with a sly smile, "she'll be back. I didn't send her too far away . . ." I nearly punched his teeth in. Before I could take action, though, Pansy barged into the room, fuming. Blaise flinched.
"Zabini! Where is my owl?"
Malfoy snickered.
ϟ ϟ ϟ
Surprisingly, Malfoy attended potions. I wanted to ask him where he'd been, but obviously there would be no reply. I tapped my shoe on the floor, trying to keep my mouth shut. Come on, Steele. Mind your own business.
"Where have you been?" I blurted in a loud whisper, facing him. To my surprise, he was already watching me with a scowl.
"Stop tapping. I can't focus," he hissed. "And mind your own business."
"Today we'll be concocting polyjuice potion. Can someone tell me what that is?"
Of course, Granger's hand shot up. Well, obviously she knew what it was. After the troll mishap, it was I who had helped them infiltrate the Slytherin dungeons to get vital information out of Draco. All for good cause, of course. I would do anything to protect the school. I even helped Hermione steal the supplies for the potion! And this was how they repaid me.
"Imagine one of the against a Venomous Tentacula," I mocked in her high voice. "Goody two shoes." Ugh. I raised my hand, but obviously, Hermione was picked on first.
"Polyjuice Potion is a potion that allows the drinker to assume the form of someone else. It's a complicated and challenging potion that even adult witches and wizards struggle to brew correctly. The potion is incredibly advanced and has two separate parts that contain steps for each part, when brewing is complete the potion has to stew for a month before usage," she recited by heart. I sank back into my seat, irked.
"Who are you talking to?" Malfoy gave me a weird look.
"Nobody. Mind your own business," I retorted. What had a done to be trapped in a sit next to this ego-inflated, big-headed, scowl-faced . . .
"You remind me of that Ravenclaw girl," Malfoy said with a smirk. "You know, blond hair, big glasses . . . Loony?"
"Luna," I corrected. "She's not loony. She looks at the world from a different, more intelligent point of view. Unlike some people." I rolled my eyes.
"Please tell me who paid you to infiltrate Slytherin," he said. "You're no more than a Hufflepuff."
"Excuse me!" I gasped. "No more than a Hufflepuff? They're the kindest people I know. They are loyal and would do anything for you if you were to ask them nicely."
"Like slaves, for example?" I could tell he was having fun with this. I punched his arm, hard.
"Ow!" He hissed, leaning away and rubbing the sore spot. "What are you, a man?"
"What are you, a man?" I mocked in a voice that sounded nothing like him. He scoffed, turning away.
"You two," Slughorn said, his face quite unhappy, "see me after class."
I presses a palm to my forehead. "Thanks a lot."
As usual, I received no reply. In fact, he left the classroom once Slughorn turned his bsck to the board with the ingredients written down. Jerk.
After class, Slughorn had something other than a scolding in store for me.
"The Slug Club is having a party tomorrow night. Since you, one of my star pupils," he said with a humongous smile, "are doing surprisingly well aside all the talking you do with Mr. Malfoy, I'd like you to join."
"You mean as a member of the Slug Club?" I asked. He nodded. "Of course," I said, accepting the invitation. "I'll be there."
"You may bring a friend," he called after me as I turned to exit the classroom. "Mr. Malfoy can be that friend if you'd like."
I could feel my face turn scarlet. "Oh, no," I quickly said, turning around. I tried to wave the silly idea away, only to drop the stack of books in my arms. Apologizing, I leaned down to pick them up, beet red, while the potions master started to laugh. "We're not like that."
"I didn't say you were. Bring a friend, was what I said, I'm sure."
"Yes. Of course. Thank you." I turned on my heel, rushing out of the classroom. "I'll be there!"
I almost did a happy dance in the hallway. Some thought it was embarrassing to be a part of the Slug Club, but it was really an honor. Or maybe I really was just loony.
"Elvira!" Someone called across the hallway. I froze in my tracks. That voice belonged to one person.
"Granger." I looked up at the ceiling. What did she want now?
"El, I have a question," she said, nearly out of breath from chasing after me. She bent down, taking deep breaths.
"What is it this time?" I asked, turning to face her. You want me to ask my Slytherin friends if they know where Voldemort is hiding?"
"Come here," she said, gesturing for me to follow her. With a frustrated sigh I walked after the know-it-all with the once-very-bushy-hair towards the stairs.
"Where are we going?" I asked, taking my time.
"Fifth floor. Prefect's bathroom."
ϟ ϟ ϟ
I stood in the doorway.
"Come in," she said, face serious. "Oh, really. I'm not going to hurt you."
I scoffed at that. "You do every year, Granger, and you know that."
"Oh, so we're on a last name basis now, Elvira?"
I gave her a dirty look. "Look. I don't know what you want from me, but I don't want anything to do with it. I can't help you." I spun around to leave.
"Wait!" I froze again. She sighed. "I'm sorry, El. We've just been really busy-"
"Saving the world?" I faced her. "Is that what you're doing?"
"Come on, El-"
"Don't call me that!" My voice rose, but she didn't flinch. "You've used me through these years, and I've gladly helped you. Troll in the dungeon," I counted on my fingers, "Polyjuice Potion, I managed to sneak you into the restricted section on library duty where you found out about the basilisk. In our third year, I helped you figure Animagi out and saved your ass from Lupin. Fourth year, you found out about the gillyweed, I'll give you that, but I warned you that they would use you and Ron as bait under the water. In our fifth year I managed to keep Malfoy and Umbridge away from your secret DA meetings like you'd kindly asked me too, and I gladly did all of these things because I like to do what's right." She opened her mouth to speak but I continued, refilling my lungs. "But that's not even what I'm mad about, Hermione. All I get is a 'thank you', and then the three of you move on without acknowledging me the rest of the year. Like we're strangers or something. Like we never met on the train and you all were 'Gryffindor is great we'll be best friends forever' until I was sorted into a different house. But no," I continued, "that wouldn't have been a problem at all. But it's Slytherin I was put into. You think I'll betray you, or that I'm some . . . Some Death Eater in training! So no, Granger, forgive me if I don't want to help you with whatever it is you want me to do." I took a break to catch my breath.
"I'm sorry."
"Whatever."
"This time, we won't . . . use you. Not that it was our intention to do any of that. We'll give you all the credit-"
"I don't want credit," I shook my head. "I never did. You're a smart witch, and the three of you did most of everything by yourselves, no matter how many rules I broke to help you get there." I laughed bitterly. "All I wanted was your friendship. All of you. I'm not a traitor." I pulled up my left sleeve to show a clean arm. "I'm not some death eater. There's no reason to fear me."
"It wasn't like that," she tried to say, but I stopped her.
"It doesn't matter anymore. I want to help Hogwarts and all of the innocent witches and wizards . . . Not the three of you," I said, annoyed, "but you're the ones who are probably going to end up saving them. Now get on with it. I have someplace to be."
"Alright then, Steele," she said, her voice teasing, trying to lift the mood, although her eyes were apologetic, "do you know anyone in Slytherin that calls himself the Half-Blood Prince?"