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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
{Griffin}
"IT WAS you, wasn't it?"
The Slytherin in front of me froze but did not turn. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked over his shoulder, but I caught a glimpse of his lips tugging up; he wanted to smile.
"I think it was you who told Professor McGonagall about the quills... and I want to know why," I stated in a matter-of-fact tone. I almost neglected to notice we found ourselves engaging in yet another private conversation. It was risky to be alone with Draco Malfoy -that much I was aware of. But my curiosity got the better of me.
"Hm, you really are clever, Blakes. No wonder we're tied for second at the top of our class." Now he turned to face me, seemingly pleased that I had figured it out.
"So," I raised my eyebrows at him, "it was you."
Draco shrugged boastingly, "Couldn't let her get away with hurting students."
Although his explanation sounded genuine, I detected that somewhere in there was a lie. No, that was not the real reason he enclosed the information to my favorite professor. Over the years, I had gotten quite gifted at detecting the double meanings he so often hid between his words. Draco had an ulterior motive, which I suspected was quite common behind every one of his closely-calculated actions. But I didn't mind; let him keep his secrets, I thought.
"McGonagall ensured confidentiality," he continued, "so Umbridge will never find out I was the one to nark about her unique punishment. Although honestly, she'll probably assume your precious Potter is behind it."
I shook my head, "Yes, because Merlin forbid that people find out Draco Malfoy actually has a heart."
All forms of amusement melted off his face. "I did you a one time favor, mudblood. Don't expect it to happen again."
I bit the inside of my cheeks at the slur. It served as another reminder that Malfoy and I could never be friends. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"Good," he glared.
"Splendid!"
"Superb!"
I scoffed, giving him a weird look before storming away to find my friends.
The following days, corridors echoed with the persistent hammering of Mr. Filch's hammer. He was tasked -presumably by the Wicked Witch of the Ministry- to nail down dozens of written regulations onto the wall around the Great Hall's grand doors. That pestering woman also insisted on walking up and down Hogwarts' corridors like she owned the place, enforcing futile rules such as stricter dress codes and limiting girl-boy interactions.
The whole ordeal was positively absurd and Professor Dumbledore did nothing but remain silent, rarely leaving the confines of his office as she took over the entire school.
