malice. |harry potter|

3.1

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"i hate him."

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     There were certain undeniable facts about Malice Fallon. She was bold. She played the piano. She liked to laugh. She was intelligent beyond her years.

      And she had zero shortage of people who cared about her. Which unfortunately meant that during her twenty-four hour stay in the hospital wing, she hadn't had a single moment alone.

      "Get out," she stated calmly even as the burning behind her eyes became too much to hold in.

      "Ara, please—"

      "Malice," Mali corrected. "To you, it's Malice. Get out, now."

      "But—"

      "Get out!" she screamed, sobbing and pointing at the door of the hospital wing. "Leave! GO!"

      Remus looked at the girl who after all these years, still had him under her thumb. "Please," he whispered, his voice breaking with the streak of tears that had fallen down his own face.

      It happened to be that at that moment, Blaise and Draco were both in the room, as they had taken their free block to stay with her, updating her on Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, classes that she had not previously taken.

     Both boys, seeing that Mali couldn't stop crying for long enough to form words, stepped in front of the girl protectively, covering Lupin's view of the girl. "You should go," Blaise stated calmly, though his eyes raged in a way that almost scared Remus.

     The sandy-haired man didn't move, hoping, if only for a second, that he could catch a glimpse of his daughter, his Arabella.

      "She told you to leave, Professor," snarked Draco. "I think you should do so."

     Malice was eternally grateful when the man finally obliged, leaving her in a sobbing mess on the scratchy hospital linens.

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"You've got to help me," Malice groaned, propping her feet up on a stool as she sunk into the armchair opposite Snape's desk.

The man cloaked in black didn't even look up from where he glared grading papers. "How lucky am I to be graced with your presence, Miss Fallon," drawled Snape, rolling his eyes imperceptibly.

      "Can we get him sacked?" the girl asked eagerly, sitting up a bit.

      "I'm afraid that power lies with the Headmaster, so unless you have evidence of him committing a crime, no."

      "Oh come on!" Mali cried. "You hate him just as much as I do, don't you?"

      "Fallon, I cannot discuss my opinions on my fellow Professors with a student."

       Mali raised an eyebrow, staring at the Potions Master with clear doubt. "Oh please. Come on, Professor, tell me all the gross details of your school days."

      He'd have denied it if anyone asked, but Mali was almost entirely sure that Severus Snape cracked a smile.

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