two can keep a secret,

chapter forty.

Lilith.

"No, the Ballycastle Bats are the best," I say.

"No," Adrian Pucey shakes his head, "I'm pretty sure you mean the Wigtown Wanderers." He smiles and nods to me.

I shake my head and readjust on the couch in the common room. "No, no, no. I get in fights with my dad about this all the time. It's the Bats, they're amazing." Dad also said he would never cheer for the Bats solely because a kid compared him to a bat one time. I can't say that I don't see it.

"It seems your dad didn't pass his quidditch taste on to you," he says, still smiling.

We're sitting on the couch in the common room, looking at each other. His elbow is on the backrest of the couch, his head in his hand. I'm sitting facing him with my legs crossed. It's later at night, but it's also the weekend so people are still up and in the common room.

I wrap a blanket around my shoulders, even though the fire is keeping my back relatively warm.

"Well, we know that my dad has horrible taste. Maybe you're the one with bad taste too," I say, raising my brows at him.

He shakes his head in disbelief. "I think I'm offended by that statement."

"As am I," Dad says, passing through the common room. He walks around the other couch and behind me. I tilt my head back to look at him and he shakes his head, looking down. He's definitely trying to not smile. "There are many more superior quidditch teams than that one, Lily. I thought you of all people would have gotten that by now."

"Love you too, Dad!"

He hums in response and leaves the common room.

"You're a lot closer to him than I expected, I'm going to be honest," Pucey says, looking back at me.

I shrug. "I'm more like him than most people realize."

"I don't know if that should scare me or make me happy."

"Depends on the day," I say, chuckling.

He smiles more and pauses. "Okay, let me think for a second. I need a knew question idea." I nod and wrap the blanket tighter around me. "Okay, so what's something you live by?"

"Oh, we're going with the deep questions now," I say.

"You can't get to know someone better unless you ask deeper questions."

He's not wrong there. "Okay," I say, thinking for a moment. "Live by one main rule. Fuck what they think."

"Oh?" he says, looking taken aback for a second.

I shrug. "Who gives a shit what the other people think? No one is popular in the afterlife, not unless you come back, of course."

"That's actually— really true." We both laugh and shake our heads. He's actually really enjoyable to talk to, and I'm surprised we never had an actual conversation before today, which is pretty sad. He's going to graduate this year. Everyone says he's a total asshole, but he seems nice enough.

I hear someone clear their throat and I glance at the other couch. Riddle cracks his neck and looks down at a book in his hands.

He's pissing me off today.

He's constantly trying to get me away from people for no reason. After he gets people to leave, he doesn't say anything. He just gets me away from them and leaves. Like what the actual hell?

I can't just sit and talk to another guy without him saying something. I'm surprised that he's let me talk to Pucey for this long anyway. But I can see it in his eyes while he's looking at the book. He's pissed. He looks up and glares at Pucey.