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Spite

Waking up in the morning was complete hell.
I slept in so late I missed breakfast, I wouldn't doubt myself if I said I was pretty sure everybody did.

I groggily get up and attempt to pry my clothes from last night over my head.

My head that is throbbing.

I threw up a good three times last night and I never want to drink again.

I turn on my shower and clean last nights makeup from my face, and the vomit from my hair.

I hated last night. Well, I was having fun... until dick face Malfoy had to overreact. I wonder what his problem was.

I turn off the shower and grab the towel to dry off.

Never again.

After I brush my teeth, get dressed and chug a bottle of water I grab my wand and the assignment that was due over break.

I only had a little bit of it left to do but I wanted to get it finished as soon as possible.

I close my dorm room and head towards the library.
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I've been settled in the library for about 15 minutes when I hear the doors open.

I don't look up because I'm too entranced with my work.

"Ophelia?"

I'd recognize that voice anywhere.

My head instantly shoots up as I see him, "George Weasley," I smile and put my quill down.

George comes around the table with his arms open, "how are you doing, Rosie?" I smile at the nickname.

I think George is the only person I'll let refer to me by my middle name.

"I'm doing good, how are you?" I ask  as I stand up and return his hug. He still smells good.

He lets me go and holds my hands as he look down at me, "I'm good. I think you've grown," he laughs, "Have you been eating any of those growing gizmos?" He asked with faked curiosity.

"Not as far as I'm aware," I smile.

And he smiles too.

"How's your family?" I ask

"Oh you know- Fred's still a git, Ron's Ron, Ginny has the hots for Harry. Typical if you ask me."

I laugh again. He always makes me do that.

"And your mum and dad?" I ask

"Mums good, she is a bit bummed when I told her you won't be coming for Christmas this year. Dad's still working at the Ministry. Cant get him to stop explaining rubber ducks to us." He finished with a giggle.

"The yellow muggle things? I ask with a smile

"That's the one," he lightly laughs.

"So what are you doing now?" I regrettably ask. Why am I asking him so many questions.

"I came to find a book on how to reverse our recipe for puking pasties, Neville wanted to be a test experiment. As it turns out, the recipe is doing good." I laugh at his enjoyment over Neville's puking, "Unfortunately, he's been going at it for a good thirty minutes and is staring to freak out, so I cant stay long Rosie." He says this as he rubs the palms of my hands with his thumbs.

"Oh, that's fine!" I say hiding my mild disappointment.

"You know I would if I could, right?" he drops my hands and places his inside his pant pockets.

"Yeah no, I know, don't even worry about it." I smile up at him. "I've got to finish this anyway, so no problem, really."

He smiles and sighs, "Alright, I'll let you get back to it then." He drops his lips down to my forehead and gives me a quick peck, "I'll catch you later Rosie, take care."

"You too," I smile and sit back down as I watch him disappear into the aisles of shelves.

With a sigh I pick my quill up and look back down at my paper, resting my chin on my palm.

Same old education.

All of a sudden the chair in front of me is pulled out and I find Malfoy plopping himself right in it. Legs spread and arms folded.
He's looking at me with his tongue poking through his cheek, face cool.

A sudden burst of aggression rushes to my brain and I look back down at my paper.

"What do you want Malfoy." I ask annoyed.

For a moment he's silent, causing me to look up at him.

"I think you owe me an apology, Rosie," he says mocking George.

That rude little git

"I certainly do not! If anything you're the one who owes me an apology," I say sternly, "And don't call me that."

Malfoy says nothing for a moment. Then scoots in closer to me.

"How does your boyfriend feel about how bloody drunk you were last night?" He almost whispers, tilting his head, close enough to touch me.

"He's not my boyfriend," I look up at him, "and even if he was that's none of your concern."

"So you wouldn't tell your boyfriend about something like that?" He asks, keeping the same distance as before.

"N-Draco it doesn't even matter. I don't have a boyfriend to tell." Im beginning to grow impatient with his questions.

What is he even on about?

Malfoy sits back in his chair and smirks, "So we're on a first name basis now, Rosie?"

I didn't even realize I had said his name...

"If that's what helps get what I'm saying to you through your thick head, then yes." I finish with a sarcastic smile, "But that is my name. So please, don't call me that." I raise my quill at him.

"Why can he call you that, then?" He asks, his face suddenly unreadable.

"It's none of your business." I reply growing more annoyed with his questions. "You aren't getting an apology, so you can leave now."

I go back to my paper and quill.

"Fine."

Fine? Good.

"But that firewhiskey you were drinking so much of...I bought it." I look up at him with a confused expression.

"Since you don't want to pay me respect and say sorry for how you acted, you can work off what you owe me." Malfoy snaps as he gets up from his chair.

"What?!" My anger shoots up, "I didn't even drink it all, if you bought it for the party I shouldn't have to work for it." I argue as I was apart of the party and his explanation didn't make sense.

"Well, Rosie," he sneered as he said the name, "not all of the party has been rude to me," he speaks as he pushes in his chair, "you have."

I scoff, "If you think I'm doing anything for you, you're wrong."

"Well then I guess Snape isn't going to like it when I tell him about all the awful things you've been doing," he squints his eyes into a glare. "Good luck keeping up your perfect record, Granato."

"He won't believe you," I say confidently.

"Wont he?" Draco asks as he fetches something from his pocket.

I widen my eyes unnoticeable as I see a prefects badge between his fingers.

Oh you little-

"You can say sorry by doing my first week's homework," with that he turns and walks out of the library.

I pull down my quill and stare at my paper.

I haven't gotten anything done.
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