The air is cold, strangely so for the sunny day we’ve had. Or maybe it just seems cold, surrounded by stark gray walls and dying grass. At least the runty Japanese Maple is holding up. A few scarlet leaves, scattered around the base of the tree, look almost like blood.
I chose to come here because this is the quietest part of the school. The other courtyards are more open, have more benches, more flowers, more room. This one is almost always deserted. It’s bleak, but it’s calm. And all mine, at least 99.9% of the time.
“So, Heardly, seems you bought your way in for another year, huh?” A snarky voice echoes through the doorway. It’s quickly followed by a head of carefully styled blonde hair. Max, or Malfoy, as I can’t help but think of him. Between the hair and the attitude, it’s hard not to.
“I have absolutely no idea what you‘re talking about, Max,” I say, something between a polite smile and a grimace on my face. I do, really, but he wants me to draw this out, and if I don’t he’ll just get worse.
“Where‘d you get the black eye?” His voice is almost concerned. Almost.
“This? You should see the other guy,” I stand and start gathering my things. So much for a minute of peace.
“I have, Danny Boy. You‘re right, he‘s much worse off. You must have a hell of a right hook.” I continue out the door, into the hall, and Max follows, talking like we’re old friends.
“Would you like me to demonstrate?”
“No, thank you,” Max paused, for a long moment. I waited, and kept walking. Not a word. I stopped and turned to face him, catching him in a blank, determined look. Like he was giving himself a mental pep talk.
“What?” I snapped, glaring at him. Menacingly. He seemed to snap out of it. His
I chose to come here because this is the quietest part of the school. The other courtyards are more open, have more benches, more flowers, more room. This one is almost always deserted. It’s bleak, but it’s calm. And all mine, at least 99.9% of the time.
“So, Heardly, seems you bought your way in for another year, huh?” A snarky voice echoes through the doorway. It’s quickly followed by a head of carefully styled blonde hair. Max, or Malfoy, as I can’t help but think of him. Between the hair and the attitude, it’s hard not to.
“I have absolutely no idea what you‘re talking about, Max,” I say, something between a polite smile and a grimace on my face. I do, really, but he wants me to draw this out, and if I don’t he’ll just get worse.
“Where‘d you get the black eye?” His voice is almost concerned. Almost.
“This? You should see the other guy,” I stand and start gathering my things. So much for a minute of peace.
“I have, Danny Boy. You‘re right, he‘s much worse off. You must have a hell of a right hook.” I continue out the door, into the hall, and Max follows, talking like we’re old friends.
“Would you like me to demonstrate?”
“No, thank you,” Max paused, for a long moment. I waited, and kept walking. Not a word. I stopped and turned to face him, catching him in a blank, determined look. Like he was giving himself a mental pep talk.
“What?” I snapped, glaring at him. Menacingly. He seemed to snap out of it. His
