Sticks, Stones, And Bones

one.

Fifth Year

We were late.

And sure, that was fine for Tom, who could smile and wink his way out of any detention he pleased, but it was not fine for me, who severely lacked the same charisma. My legs burned as I hurried after him. I was only a few inches shorter, but somehow he always seemed to stride a pace ahead.

"He's going to kill us."

"He's going to kill you," corrected Tom. I knew if I could see his face, a smirk would be tugging at his mouth. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Please get me out of it!" We passed through the corridor through a great stone arch out of the castle. Bumps rose on my arms and I cursed quietly - I left my jumper in the common room.

"In case you've forgotten," he drawled over his shoulder, "you're the one who is making me late."

"You know I didn't mean to, right, Tom?"

"And yet, my essay has been reduced to ashes while yours remains intact."

I tripped slightly on the path. The woods were growing nearer and Professor Kettleburn, a young but no-nonsense man, was sure to be growing closer. "Take mine! And my potions essay!"

Tom didn't stop, but his head corked slightly to the left. I was atrocious at wandwork, but my theory was unmatched; better than Tom's, even, though he'd never admit it. Tom swears he'd never believe I was a witch if not for my potion skills, which rival my knack for theory. I'd practically offered him gold. I'd watched him last night and he'd only written his intro.

"Are you insinuating that your work would be better than my own, Smith?" His voice was sharp, the one he usually saved for his group of followers. It knocked into me and I staggered slightly.

"Of course not!" I cried out.

Professor Kettleburn's lecture was getting louder. "-so you want to be careful about the Glumbumble, because you might think your beehive hosts bees when in fact..."

"Then why would I use your potions essay and not my own?" Tom said stiffly.

"A M.O.M. classification of XXX, they actually..."

"Your's isn't done so I thought..."

"-of course, the treacle can be used as an antidote..."

"You want to buy my assistance, then?"

"How was I supposed to know that the Alihotsy leaves weren't edible?"

"No! Please, Tom, I can't get a detention in my first week back! I mean, we're prefects for goodness sake."

"-the hysteria did fade though, thanks to the Glumbumbles!"

"You should have thought of that before you set my essay aflame."

I was nearing desperation. "Please, Tom, let me give-"

"Miss Smith! And Mister Riddle. How nice of you to finally join us."

My cheeks burned and my head snapped down. My shoes were suddenly very interesting and my stockings had a loose thread.

"Good afternoon, Professor Kettleburn. Did you receive my note that Smith and I got caught up with prefect duties?"

"Yes, yes, hurry over," Kettleburn waved us forward. We shuffled to the back of the group and eyed the large jar of fuzzy grey insects bumping into the glass, Tom ignoring my inquisitive look.