ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ 1-3

dementor

I sat on my own in a compartment on the Hogwarts express, waiting for Dean, Seamus, and Neville. Brutus laid calmly around my neck, staying hidden by my hair.

I had my copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them on the table — I'd really wanted to start reading the Monster Book of Monsters, but couldn't figure out how to get it to calm down and stop snapping. It was currently still belted shut in my trunk, occasionally trying to escape its binding with a thud.

"If Willow and Crookshanks don't eat you," I told Brutus, "that thing will. So be careful until Harry's terrarium comes. Hopefully the Dursleys send it over nicely. They're not all too happy with Harry right now."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in the compartment across the aisle from mine. There was a Professor in there, asleep, but I supposed I could squeeze in if I needed. Harry was filling them in on what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had said, no doubt.

The door to the compartment slid open without a knock. I looked up, expecting to see Seamus with Dean and Neville in tow, but instead it was Malfoy. I shouldn't have been surprised — he managed to do this every year.

I immediately noticed the change in his hair — it wasn't gelled back like before and instead hung loosely over his forehead. He looked considerably less like a ferret, which I found I appreciated.

He smirked when he saw me, but it wasn't the nasty one he saved for Harry and Ron. It was almost pleasant, but still teasing. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

"My, my, you get more ghastly every year." His voice had gotten deeper — it caught me off guard.

"It's nice to see you too, Malfoy." I remarked with a smirk of my own. "Did you use up all your hair gel trying to glue your fathers job back together?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, but I wish I could use it to glue your mouth shut."

"I'm sorry, that was out of line." I apologized, even though he didn't seem too put off by it. I examined his hair again, the way it almost fell into his eyes when he tilted his head. "It looks . . . nice, though."

"You think so?" He touched it self-consciously, then suddenly scowled at me, as though I'd insulted him deeply. "No. You're lying. You hesitated. You hate it and it's awful."

With each statement, he tried to cover up more and more of it, pushing his bangs back.

"No, I just didn't want to admit it." I told him, chuckling. "It's an improvement, I swear. I like it."

He seemed satisfied with this. "Good. Not that I care what you think, of course."

I grinned mischievously. "It looks soft. Like it won't sound like straw crunching when you touch it during Potions."

He scowled. "Alright, that's enough from you."

"Who's this?" Brutus asked as I finished giggling. He slithered out from behind my hair and poked out his head to look at Malfoy, who startled when he noticed.

"Er, Holmes," he said, gaping. "Not to frighten you, but—"

"This is Brutus," I held out my hand so Brutus could slither on to it. To the snake, I said. "And Brutus, this is Malfoy. He's — kind of my friend. So be nice."

Brutus flicked his tongue at me. "When have I ever been mean?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes at this, not understanding the Parseltongue. "Oh, quit showing off." He peered curiously at Brutus, who stared back defiantly. "You named it Brutus?" He asked with some amusement. He outstretched his palm invitingly.