Griffin Blakes is your average teenage witch attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She is a lot of things... but sneaky is not one of them. So what is she going to tell her three best friends when she starts to fall for the enemy? An...
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{Draco}
"WHAT A surprise this is!" Pushing off the wall I'd been leaning on, I stuffed the letter my mother sent in my robes' pocket. "Famous Harry Potter. Remind me, what do they call you again? The Stupid One or The Boy Who Stunk?" I smirked.
Potter rolled his eyes, seemingly unbothered. "And here I thought your insults couldn't get any less funny," he muttered, trying to move past me and go up the tower's steps -which led into the Owlery.
"What was that?" I sneered, shoving the boy back. This action resulted in Harry accidentally dropping the envelope he carried. We both dove for it at the same time but luckily I was faster, swiftly grabbing it off the stone floor.
"To Padfoot," I read out loud and furrowed my eyebrows. "What the hell is a padfoot?"
"None of your damn business," Harry reached for it, but since I was taller it was easy to pull it away. "No, now I'm curious," I laughed, looking down at the paper again when something suddenly clicked. My grip on his letter tightened.
"I know this handwriting."
"What are you on about?" he asked, finally stealing it from my hands.
"I said I know your handwriting," I spat, my face becoming awfully serious. Harry looked confused but, for a second time, attempted to go up the stairs.
I punched him square in the jaw.
"What the hell was that for?" he exclaimed, grabbing his face.
"You know bloody well what. I saw Blakes' arm earlier this week."
His eyes flashed with recognition. "How did you- why do you even care?"
I ignored his question. "Oh, I wonder what the Daily Prophet would say about you carving letters into another student. Bet they'd have field day!"
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he gritted through his teeth.
"Perhaps. Either way," I stepped forward, glaring at him, "you're going down, Potter." He let out a frustrated noise and before we knew it, his fist had collided with my cheek. I groaned at impact, stumbling backwards.
"You're a foul git, you know that?" he huffed. "I would never hurt Griffin. Umbridge pressured us," he stated, holding up the back of his other hand to reveal the identical sentence 'I must not tell lies'. It was in a much neater font, might I add.
"Oh."
Now that I thought about it, that made more sense than her best friend hurting her. And she said she got it in detention.
To be fair, I forgot about that part.
"Yeah, so next time you go around picking fights, try knowing all the facts first."
