snake skin * d.m.

2.

"You don't have to do this, Clove!" His hair fell messily before his eyes, his pale skin beamed like a light in the dark tower. Her wand was held steadily at his chest. Though, he moved closer, reaching out to her.

Her knees grew weak, her wand beginning to lower.

--

First-year was a blur so far, she couldn't remember much. It seemed like a week ago she had received her letter. To be fair it had been a little over a month. But as a keen distraction, she and Lira had walked into the Great Hall and sat down. The tables were covered with sweet foods, such as donuts, candied apples, and lollies galore. It was heaven to their young eyes, and Draco had been snickering with Crabbe and Goyle. The hall had floating jack o' lanterns instead of the usual candles, and the ceiling flickered with stars and lightning, mimicking that of what was outside.

"Wonder what they're talking about?" Clove asked her friend. Her eyes glued on a red candied apple. Reaching for it, she had turned her attention towards Lira.

"I reckon they're talking about the Weasley's." Her friend's voice was muffled through a mouthful of carrot cake. And at that, Lira had begun scooping out mashed potatoes onto her plate all the while a frightened Professor Quirrel burst through the Great Hall. Clove frowned, wondering what was about to come out of his mouth.

"Troll! In the dungeon! Troll! In the dungeon!" His voice shrieked something fierce, and the two friends glanced at each other. Was this a sick joke? Perhaps not, as Dumbledore had risen from his seat and McGonagall's face was in a twist.

"Thought you outta know," Quirrel's voice was a mere whisper. The Professor's knees buckled, sending him face-first on the stone flooring. A harsh thud echoed throughout the hall. And, at that, all four houses began screaming, their voices together cried out in a high, ear-piercing pitch. No longer had Clove been thinking of Draco's conversation, or her candied apple, her throat began to dry as her cries were just as deafening as everyone else's.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore dragged out his call, ordering the students to be sent back to their common rooms. She followed behind Malfoy, Lira stayed at her side. Their shoes pattered quickly, and to that, she felt her arms reach out to the two of them. Guiding the two to a nearby broom closet, she felt Draco smack off her hand.

"What do you think you're doing, Cohen?" Malfoy sputtered, trying to push past them, towards the door.

"The troll is in the dungeon you bollock! Our common room is in the dungeon!" Her eyes narrowed, "I would prefer to not become troll food this evening!" Though, as Clove's demeanor faltered, she could almost imagine a floo of steam leaving Malfoy's nostrils. He would probably prefer being with his two goons, picking on one of the quieter Slytherin's, than to be trapped with two muggle-born girls. As many secret passageways there are throughout the grand castle, her heart still pattered viciously. She didn't want to see her friend getting hurt. Well, she supposed to see her friends getting hurt.

"How about, while we wait, we play a muggle game?" Lira spoke brashly, trying to diffuse the tension. Draco's eyes were still glued onto Clove with narrowed eyes, and he whispered something inaudible under his breath.

"I will not play a muggle game." His blonde hair was slicked back, and to Clove's surprise, he had sat down with Lira.

"Yes, you will! Or else we will all sit in silence like a buncha losers!" Clove shouted, her eyes closed shut. Lira let out a strange snort, which sent Clove into a small fit of laughter. Draco looked as if he were about to scream, but he sighed, leaning against a crate of feathers. Noticing this, he turned and pulled a few out, throwing them at the girls. Clove grasped one and pulled the feather over her lip, acting as if it was a mustache.