"She's been in the hospital wing for almost a week! I have to go and see her!"
"You heard what Snape said, you have to remain with me. We will go check on her later, I have to go meet my mates."
"Well," Kris pouted, "good luck getting me to move."
Draco is fed up with Kris's behavior, it isn't his fault they are stuck with each other. She should be blaming Snape, not him.
"I'm not moving," Kris stomped.
Draco smirked, and stepped close to her, Kris widened her eyes. He was so close, that Kris felt his breath on her cheek. He is taunting her, he is teasing her, just to make her follow.
"Fine!" She gave in. "I'll follow, just don't ever do that again."
"Don't deny it," Draco laughed as he continued walking, "I know you like me."
"The only way that I 'like you' is when you are acting like a loving brother."
"Just shut up," Draco scoffed as he picked up his pace.
"Don't tell me to shut up!" Kris's mouth dropped open.
"Kris!" Harry strides after her.
My savior, Kris thought as she watches Harry stride over.
"You want to come to Quidditch practice? I am the captain, you know."
"That's wonderful Harry," Kris smiled. "Sure I'll go-"
"No you won't," Draco walked towards them.
"What do you mean she won't attend?" Harry challenged. "You don't make decisions for her."
"She knows what she has to do, Potter. I suggest you stay out of it 'til any other notice-"
"Draco please," Kris asked. "I'll meet you at the quad so we can head to Defense Against the Dark Arts together. I don't care what, you know, says."
"Fine, I won't mention a word to-- you know."
"Thank you," Kris curtsied and walked next to Harry to the field.
"I haven't stepped foot in this arena since the day you lost all your bones to Lockhart."
"I saw him again, at the hospital. You know, when we went to go retrieve Mr. Weasley."
"Oh, what is he doing there? Did something happen to him?"
"He's okay... I'll take you to the bleachers."
Harry reached for her bag, but Kris pulled away.
"I can carry it," she jumped back, "thank you though."
"Hop on," Harry smirked as his broomstick appeared in front of him.
"No, I thought we were going to walk."
"Don't be such a child," Harry laughed as he took her by the hand and helped her on.
"I have a fear of heights-"
"And thunder."
"Just go," she scoffed.
Harry landed her on the closest bleacher near the hoops, so he can keep an eye on her. She jumped off, making a THUMP as she landed. She waved goodbye and took a seat. Many first years are trying out, with their borrowed brooms from the school. She rummaged through her bag for a book, no luck.
"Crap," she cursed with a grunt. "Oh! The journal."
She brought it out, and ran her fingers down the tattered spine. It wasn't a pleasant looking journal, but it can function. She began to jot down her prefect duties, homework, side notes for Muggle studies, and some pictures. Most of the sketches were of Harry, riding his Firebolt. She took huge detail on his scar, uniform, and the broom itself. She included texture on its end, texture on his arm guards, and quickly began to shade it.
