Ecdysis

Chapter 18 - Fifth Year: Reflection

I spent the afternoon's prefect meeting daydreaming about ways I could humiliate Cordon. I wished for a spell that would animate the two large pimples on his chin, give them faces and big mouths and make them argue over which of them was shinier. I envisioned his scrawny moustache becoming a caterpillar, crawling up his cheek and between his eyebrows until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

His beady eyes stared back at me, cold and cautious. Was he thinking of the gift I'd left in his pocket on the train a few weeks ago? I watched his hand twitch, as if reaching for his trousers to check, and my lips twisted into a mocking grin.

Draco kicked me under the table.

I hid my wince with a glower. His eyes glittered with malice.

"What?" I mouthed contemptuously.

He scrunched his nose and flicked his eyes away.

Cordon babbled on about some frivolous soiree the school was hosting for the Board of Governors. Something about a seven-course dinner and a live toad quartet. He looked around the room. "Any volunteers to be our student representatives at the dinner?"

Draco's hand shot up so fast my hair fluttered in the gust.

I kicked him under the table, refusing to get roped into this with him.

He stared steadfastly at Cordon, raising his proud chin even higher.

Very well. Aiming my wand beneath the table, I enchanted Draco's bag strap into a lasso, hooked it around his arm, and yanked it back down with a Western flair I'd seen in American films.

He whipped his head towards me, scowling as he struggled to free himself.

"No way am I doing that," I hissed, enjoying watching him struggle. As same-year, same-house prefects, we were expected to execute most tasks together. Draco volunteering meant that I was volunteering, too.

He thrust his opposite hand stubbornly in the air.

Luckily, Cordon was ignoring him, looking at every table but ours. "Ron and Lavender, how about you?"

Draco slapped his untethered hand on the table, snarling. "Their hands weren't even raised."

"No speaking out of turn," barked Cordon. "Five points from Slytherin."

A muscle ticked in the corner of Draco's jaw. If looks could kill, Cordon would be writhing on the floor, gasping his last breath. I loosened the bag strap now that I was confident Cordon wouldn't pick us.

"And since Malfoy wants to be involved, he and Granger can be part of the clean up committee with the house-elves afterwards," added Cordon with a smug grin, gaze panning around the room like they were all in on the joke but us. A few laughed.

"There's no clean up committee," Angelina interjected from the professor's desk, bored. She seemed as eager to be over with this meeting as I was. "Granger and Malfoy will attend the dinner. Nobody else volunteered."

"I don't trust Granger," said Cordon bluntly. "She'll poison someone or let vermin loose while the Board's eating."

I gave him a sickly sweet smile. "There will only be vermin running loose if you show up."

Cordon docked five more points from Slytherin. Ugly little rat.

"But by all means, let Weasley attend your stuffy dinner," I added. "He can show the Board how to eat with their fingers and chew with their mouths open."

"Least I don't have a wand shoved up my arse," cried Ron, turning as red as Daphne's favourite leaping licorice sweets.

Obviously, Cordon didn't deduct points from Gryffindor for that one.