GRAVEYARD | h.p.

𝖛𝖎. I AM OUTSMARTED BY A FERRET

YOU'D THINK THAT I COULD AT LEAST GET A PEACEFUL DINNER, RIGHT?

Wrong.

I knew right away that I wasn't going to be able to eat a bite of food without the fear of throwing up when Pansy Parkinson sits across from me, Tara next to her. I'm proven correct since it's impossible not to vomit while looking at Pansy's pug-face for a long amount of time. I barely manage to hold in a gag, and dinner hasn't even officially started yet. Throw in Tara's classic insults of me, 'being fat' and, 'needing a gym' when the food does arrive, and I'm about ready to go sit at the Gryffindor table instead of this.

"Why aren't you with your Drakie-Pie?" I sneer at Pansy, twenty minutes into the meal, when she shows no interest of leaving. Truly, though, I'm glad that Pansy's not sitting next to Draco. She can sit next to anyone else, for all I care, except him.

"He's not here," Pansy frowns (or smiles; I still can't tell).

"Where is he, then?" I scoff and scour the Slytherin table for any sign of Draco Malfoy. She's surprisingly right, and I can't manage to find him anywhere in the Great Hall.

"Why do you care," she sneers.

"I don't," I respond coolly— hoping that I'm not blushing— before suggesting, "How about you go look for him? Then I won't have to stare at your ugly face while I eat."

Pansy glares at me at the last part, but it seems like she's considering leaving to find him. She doesn't need to, because just then, I hear somebody shout at me.

"LIBSON!"

I whirl around and realize the sound was made by Draco. He's standing right next to the entrance of the Great Hall— close to where I'm sitting— with Potter and Weasels at his side. I'm upset that Potter hasn't been expelled, of course, and shout back.

"WHAT?"

"COME HERE FOR A SECOND!" Draco barks.

I glance at Potter and Weasels in distaste before responding with a loud, "NO!"

"CAN YOU JUST LISTEN FOR ONCE?"

"WHY?"

"JUST— IT'S IMPORTANT!"

I reluctantly stand up, curious as to why Draco's calling me over. As I walk towards Draco, I give him a bright smile, but it quickly turns into a grimace when I realize I must look like Daphne Greengrass. I really should stop spending time with her, since all she's been is a negative influence.

When I arrive, I glare at the Gryffindors before addressing them. "Potter. Weasels."

"Libson," they sneer.

"So you aren't expelled after all," I glance over at Potter. "Pity."

He's about to open his mouth to say something, but Malfoy cuts him off. "She's my second," he says to Potter and Weasels.

I can't hold back the scoff that escapes my lips as I turn to Draco. "Are you going to duel. You'll just be throwing your wands at each other—we haven't even learned relatively dangerous, unless you want to tickle Potter to death."

Malfoy frowns but overall ignores me, which hurts a little. "Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

He stalks off to the Entrance Hall as I glance over at Potter and Weasels. "Good luck," I drone. "You'll need it, since I'm certain both of you aren't competent enough to use any spells."

―« ✠ »―

Luckily, the rest of dinner is almost bearable. Probably because I'm too focused on the midnight duel instead of on Tara and Pansy. Through my distracted state, I can see this annoys Tara since she scowls when I don't respond to anything she says. But I can't care less about what Tara wants.