Feral Den

Chapter 46

The Great Hall rushed with students. Talk filling the creases. Food wafting deliciously across each House table.

Hailee sat between Sewlyn and Malfoy. The boy was still upset about not being able to play another game, which means, Hailee gets her ear talked off to the magical roof.

"Maybe we can just ask Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw is we can switch?"
"For finals?" Hailee raised an eyebrow. "You can't be serious Sewlyn. That's like saying you're going to ask the badger to bite you in the arse —and the raven to peck you to death."
Sewlyn whines. "We're snakes, though! That shouldn't matter to us!"
"Uh-huh, and how do you expect us to
persuade one of them to let us play in finals? Give them a pat on the back and tell them they'll get there next year? Neither have been in finals for at least a few years —it's always been either Slytherin or Gryffindor."
"Well Gryffindor sucks."
"And only a few weeks ago, we were worse." Hailee shot Malfoy a sharp look. "Because someone couldn't get the Snitch."
Malfoy glared at her. "We've talked about why I wasn't able to."
"Right. Because your pride was sooo damaged that you couldn't focus. Not like anyone was too scared to bully you for it or—"
"You weren't afraid to bully me."
"I'm different." Hailee rolled her eyes, thinking that was obvious. "You could've still got the damn Snitch and I would've found some way to harass you about your technique."

At this, Hailee unexpectedly turns to the green-eyed tall man sitting next to Thomas.

"Really, he was that bad." Hailee waved her spoon at Malfoy. "You sucked so hard I thought—"
"You're such a prick." Malfoy smacked her wrist away from his face. "I'll stuff you in a locker if I have to."
"That's such a muggle thing to say." Hailee hummed, "Makes me wonder if you really are prejudice."
"I'll stick you to the roof."
"That sounds better!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"But I've already done that to myself." Hailee sighed. "Seriously that sucked. I wouldn't recommend it."
Sewlyn tilted his head. "When did you do that?"
"Sec— no, third year? I don't remember."
"It was second year." Marvolo said, tilting his head to the side. "Marcus Flint helped you down after everyone was done laughing."
Hailee nodded, dipping a piece of her bread into the soups broth. "Yeah and than I snuck— and than I went to the library where Hermione began to smack my ear off."
"What were you beginning to say?"
"Nothing, don't worry about it."
Greengrass raised an eyebrow. Hailee didn't waver.

"Anyways," Hailee dragged. "Thomas can I copy your Defense homework?"
"No."
"It won't take long." Hailee chewed on the bread. "I've only have to—"
"No."
"But—"
"No."
"Please—"
"No."
"C'mon—"
"No."
Hailee groaned. "You're the only one who does it though! I would copy off of the others but their handwriting is too loopy for my own."
"My handwriting is not your chicken scratch."
Hailee scoffed. "I have fine handwriting."
"So does a five year old."
"Is that how old your first child is?"
"That's funny."
"I'm serious."
"I don't have children."
Hailee raised an eyebrow. "Not yet anyways."
Thomas sighed. "You usually annoy someone else with these questions? Why are you asking me?"
"Because you just look so sweet." Hailee smiled. "You're also my best shot at not having to break my hand."
"The chapter isn't that long."
"That's what your mum said when she first held you."
Zabini coughs, the goblet jerking in his hand.

Thomas covers his face, hiding the flush of his cheeks. "Shut up Blaise." He sighs.
Zabini coughs, chuckling between.
He glares at Hailee. "May I ask you something Hailee?"
"Go ahead."
"Is that what your Aunt first told you when you asked about your mum?"
"No. She said my mum was a good-for-nothing whore who married a deadbeat drunk and that they died in a car crash." Hailee stared at Thomas, unflinching even when he did. She smiled. "And then I was locked in my cupboard for a week without meals because I asked what any ordinary child would."