Angel stands in the hallway, clutching the letter from her father that she received the previous night. His words echo in her mind, each sentence filled with a cold fury that chills her to the bone. He didn't send a howler; he didn't need to. She can hear his voice as she reads it again, as clearly as if he were standing right beside her.
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With the letter still crumpled in her hand, Angel walks through the huge doors of the Great Hall, her eyes scanning the room until she spots Draco's blonde hair. Her anger boils over, and she marches toward him, not caring about the stares she receives.
When she gets behind him, she lets it go. "What is your problem?!"
Draco turns immediately, smirking, trying to play it off as a joke in front of his friends, which include Viktor Krum sitting a few seats beside him, and of course, the rest of students in the great hall. "What?" he says, his tone mocking.
"Don't prate! You know what I'm talking about!" Angel raises her father's now crumbled letter, her hand shaking with rage.
Draco's smirk falters as he glances around, embarrassed by the attention. He chuckles nervously. "Oh, come on. Let's just talk calmly, will you be able to do that, Aviva?"
The name he gives her only fuels her anger. "There's nothing to talk about. It is very clear to me." She's about to leave but she thinks it through for a moment. "Actually, don't you dare talk to me again." She finishes as the murmurs around them intensify, and Draco grabs her wrist, leading her out of the Great Hall.
"Are you mad?" He spits when they're both in the corridor.
"Me? Are you mad? Do you want to see me dead, or what?" Angel's voice trembles with a mix of fury and hurt. She had hoped, foolishly, that he wouldn't tell on her. Not this time. Not for once.
"What are you talking about." Draco asks in an affirmation.
"Do not lie to me or-"
"I really don't know what you're talking about." His voice shows proper confusion, but she's too angry to realize at the moment.
She scoffs. "I can't believe you, honestly."
"What do you even have to believe?"
"Oh, I don't know." Angel's voice drips with sarcasm. "Maybe that you didn't tell father that I speak to half-bloods and friends."
The sharp sound echoes in the corridor. Both of them freeze, shocked by her action. Why she did that, she doesn't know. If she regrets it, she doesn't know either. Silence surrounds both siblings for a few seconds, until the boy, actually affected by her sister's action, speaks.
