''Does it hurt?'' Isla asked, her hand stroked over Leo's bruised skin, ''It looks like it would hurt.'' She mumbled, letting her thumb brush the mauve-colored coat,

''It hurts.'' He groaned back, and his face fell into a tortured mantle, ''But Madame Pomfrey said it would be better in a few days.''

''I'm sure she did,'' Isla hummed, dragging her touch away from his, ''It's been a couple of days already, so I'm sure that it will feel better soon.''

She sought to force a smile, to comfort him, and ease the pain he must be feeling.

''I definitely hope so,'' He grunted, leaning back onto his bed as her spine fell against the headboard of it. She peered around, noticing the slight shifts in details that he'd made.

''You changed the dressers?'' She mumbled, still clocking everything that felt new, ''And the—''

''Zabini did,'' Leo's eyes sealed, and he let out a loud sigh, ''He bought new things where he thought it would fit.''

''I see...'' She remembered how he shared his room with Blaise, ''I forgot about him,'' She chuckled, ''It will be really embarrassing if he and Ava decides to—''

''Shut up!'' His hand pushed her shoulder as she laughed at him, grabbing a pillow to strike him right back, ''Don't even think about that. It's disgusting.''

''I think it's sweet,'' Isla rose, hugging the pillow to her chest instead, ''That she likes him already.''

Leo's eyes rolled at the spoken words, and he turned to his side to face her, ''Then perhaps we can share a room instead because I can't take being around those bloody fools anymore.''

Her head tipped to look down at him, and all the cuts Malfoy had left so violently upon his skin, ''So you'd move into the girl's dormitory then, is that what you're suggesting?'' Her lips arched into a smirk.

Leo propped himself up on his elbow, snatching the pillow out of her hands before he slammed it right at her, ''You're so annoying, you know that, right?''

She burst out in laughter, trying to shield herself from his acts, ''Stop it—'' She couldn't breathe out of the giggles falling from her lips, ''Leo, I'm serious, stop—''

''So fucking disgusting.''

Leo's eyes widened, and his breaths stilled for a slight second as they jumped apart, staring blankly at the doorway and the three boys standing in it.

''What are you doing here?'' Theodore questioned Isla, his arms crossed over his chest, ''I thought I told you to stay away—''

''You told her what?'' Leo snapped, stretching up in the bed, ''You have no right in telling her what she can or can't do."

''Mind your own fucking business, Green.'' Draco rose a brow, almost spitting the spoken words, ''If anything, for once, just mind your own fucking business.''

''Like you did the other day?'' Leo shot back again, pushing himself off the mattress as Isla nearly froze at the situation, ''You have an ugly habit of getting into other's business, so why should I—''

' Leo,'' Isla said, standing tall next to the bed, ''I'll go,''

She strode towards the doorway, where the three boys held, and she halted, right in front of them. Her eyes flickered as Draco caught her stare.

''Don't look at me,'' He stated, dangerously, ''I don't want you to fucking look at me.''

But her eyes stayed on him, provokingly as she rolled them after,

''Can you move?'' She questioned, ''I need to go.''

They were still standing in her way, and both Theodore and Blaise stepped into the room, but not Draco.

He stood, towering over her for seconds.

Her patience for the blond was on the very edge of running out, and she frustratingly snapped her fingers in front of him, ''So it's alright for you to look at me, but I can't look at you?''

Malfoy's jaws clenched, and he narrowed his sight in hers, ''Yes, because you can never compare to me,'' He said, cruelly, ''But if you insist—'' He took a tiny step to the side, allowing a small space for her to squeeze herself past him.

And just as she did, she felt his suit brush against her shirt, ''Thank you,'' Isla mumbled, taking a stride out in the hallway, turning around to walk away.

''Pleasure is all mine—'' Draco smirked, ''Whore.''

Isla halted, with her back facing him as her eyes sealed for a brief minute, ''What did you say?'' She snapped, flinging around angrily, ''What did you call me?''

She had enough of his rude comments and his childish behavior. Her temper couldn't possibly be tamed no longer, ''Tell me, Malfoy. What did you just call me?''

Draco let his tongue roll on the inside of his cheek, and his hands shoved into his pockets, ''I called you a—''

Her hand slapped against his cheek, exhausted to take more of his act.

Draco nearly gasped, unprepared for what she'd done to even react at first, and just as he was about to, his friends began to chuckle — he felt the burning sensation on his skin, and the look in her eyes starved for justice.

''I hate you,'' Isla whispered to herself before she shifted around, and she walked further down the corridor.

Malfoy scoffed, and his hand brushed against his sore skin. He needed to say something, to speak against her for doing what she did to him, and to not look weak in front of his friends.

''I'm looking forward to detention tonight, Clarke.'' He shouted after her, ''Watch your fucking back—''

''I bet you are!'' She yelled back, ignoring the later statement he sought to speak before she completely disappeared down the stairs.

No one had ever acted that way with Malfoy before, and even if he wasn't supposed to — he couldn't help but find her dangerously interesting.

_____

''Still, no sitting together, ladies.'' McGonagall said, sternly in the late-night hour, ''Take separate seats, please.''

Ava grunted, rolling her eyes as she pushed her chair back and placed herself next to a desk a few feet away from Isla.

Isla couldn't help but feel a bit relieved by that — that her friend had to switch seats. She had yet failed to speak with Ava about the situation at the party last week and how she had left Isla without as much as a word.

She wasn't quite sure she still wanted to confront her friend about it. Perhaps it was better for them to simply leave the matter and not talk about it at all.

Her clouded thoughts were shredded by the mumbling voices entering the classroom, and she didn't dare to turn around. The way Isla spoke to Malfoy earlier and what she did, wasn't something she lived to be proud of.

''Mr. Malfoy,'' The Professor greeted, ''How kind of you to join us this time.''

''Of course, professor,'' Draco smirked, ''I wouldn't miss this detention for the world. I was just feeling sick last time, and—''

''Sick enough to throw a gathering, I suppose?'' She hewed him off, making his friends quietly snicker behind him, and Isla couldn't help but slap her hand over her mouth, muffling the urging chuckle.

Malfoy's eyes snapped to hers, and she could feel the burning stare in the back of her head.

''Although I appreciate your manners, Mr. Malfoy. I think lying looks terrible on you. Now take a seat, please. I want Mr. Zabini to work with Miss. Green again, and Mr. Nott, you can assist Miss. Clarke—''

''Professor, if I may—'' Draco bit down onto his bottom lip, ''Miss. Clarke and I would love to work together. We always do so well in a pair.''

McGonagall nodded hesitantly, ''Very well then. Mr. Malfoy, take a seat next to Miss. Clarke and Mr. Nott—'' She narrowed her eyes at the brunet, ''It looks like you're on your own today.''

Isla gripped her quill harder, attempting to gather the strength she knew she would need to sit next to Draco for an entire hour, but even if she did so, doing everything she possibly could to figure out a way to stand him for the next sixty minutes.

She couldn't.

The instant Draco slipped down to the seat next to hers, her hand stretched up in the air, ''Professor?'' She asked, kindly, ''Would you mind if I would be the one working alone for this class—''

Malfoy's hand wrapped around her wrist, and he bent her arm back to the table, ''Don't mind her, Professor. She's a bit lost today.''

Her face twisted, and she frowned at him, ''What are you—''

He leaned closer to her ear, smirking viciously, ''Not so fucking cocky anymore, are we?'' He hissed, which caused shivers to flee her spine, ''Now sit the fuck down, and be a good little girl, is that so hard?''

Isla gulped, and her eyes grew wide at the statement.

''I don't—'' She sought to speak, yanking her hand out of his grip, but the act only made him hold her tighter, ''Let me go, Malfoy.''

''Or what?'' He scoffed, inhaling loudly so that she would hear him smell her hair, ''What are you going to do about it? Are you going to drive me away? Make me wait for you, for years as you did to Diggory?''

Her breaths stilled at the spoken name.

Cedric.

Her Cedric.

Isla's mind clocked the boy she missed so badly the instant Draco mentioned him, and her heartbeat reached her ears. It felt as if she panicked.

''Stop it,'' Isla whispered.

''Imagine dying without getting it with your girlfriend—'' Malfoy kept on pushing her, pouting slightly, ''Not even a kiss from what I've heard.''

''Stop it.'' She breathed, but he plainly ignored her, ''It's enough.''

''God, to believe that you and Diggory were actually a thing makes me want to throw up.'' Draco kept pushing her.

She pinched her eyes shut.

''Perhaps it was for the better that he got put out of his misery, yeah?'' He continued, raising his voice a bit and his hold of her arm tensed, ''If I were with you, I would have killed—''

''Stop it!'' Isla blurted out. The palms of her hands slammed against the desk as she roughly forced her chair back, ''I said, stop it.''

She could feel the corner of her eyes sting in tears, and her cheeks flushed in a feverish color. She was hurt yet infuriated.

''I hate you,'' She mumbled, taking a stride away from him, ignoring the fact that her books still rested on the table, ''Never speak to me, ever again.''

Isla heard the Professor as she called after her, but she neglected everything at this point. She didn't want anyone to see her cry. They wouldn't understand. No one knew about her and Cedric, and to her luck, no one heard what Malfoy said.

To them, she must have looked like a maniac, running out of detention without cause.

Her hands were placed on a brick-covered wall as she leaned against it, catching her breath after storming out.

''Damn it—'' She sobbed to herself, and for the first time in days, she let her tears fall, ''Fucking damn it.''

Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to hush the sound of her cries, but it was impossible. It hurt too much.

Right now, it hurt tremendously, and a waver of panic struck her again. She tried to breathe through it, to calm herself down, and just as she did — just as she felt as if her lungs filled with air and she could inhale properly again, something caught her senses.

The steps echoing closer caught her ear, ''Go away—'' She mumbled, turning away from whoever was coming.

Isla didn't want anyone to see her cry.

Someone called her name, and his vocals tore through her as she spun around. Facing the boy who'd followed her out in the corridor, ''Clarke, listen to me—''

''No—'' Isla stepped back. Her face held a cloak of agony, ''I told you to go away. I don't want to talk or see anyone right now, so just—''

''Clarke,'' Theodore's voice turned more demanding as he stared right at her, ''What did he say to you?''

Her arms threw out in the air, and her lips parted, ''Does that even matter?'' She snapped. His face fell, ''And why are you even here, Nott?''

The way his last name slipped out with force caused his jaws to grit, ''Don't—''

''What? Don't what? Don't speak your name? Don't look at you? Don't disobey you?'' She nearly scoffed, ''You don't even look at me when we're not alone, so I don't know why you bother.'' Isla stated, tearing her sights from his.

He didn't stop looking at her.

''Just—'' She huffed as he swallowed his fuming temper, ''Just leave me alone.''

Isla began to drag away, to leave Theodore and the situation she felt trapped in behind, but that didn't sit well with the brunet, and he wrapped his hand around her arm, tugging her right back.

"I thought I told you not to speak to me that way." He endangered, raising a brow at her, "You need to get yourself together—"

"And I thought I told you to leave me alone." She fired back, yanking her arm away from his grip, "So I guess we both need to do better."

He looked at her, puzzled by what could've set her temper off, what made her this upset, but he didn't own a chance to say anything else, nevertheless react to what she said before she completely stormed off.

Isla matched her way back to her room, slamming the door behind her with force as she flopped down onto her bed. She dragged the covers over her head, and she shut her eyes.

All of this was too much for her. She just wanted it to go back to normal, to how things were before the war and before it all got so complicated.

She didn't like this at all anymore, and the fact that Draco, in some strange way, had found out about her relationship with Cedric — frightened her even more. The blond knew things he shouldn't, and that upset her to a point where her fingers curled into balls.

She hated them. She didn't before. She didn't hate anymore, but she did now.

Isla Clarke hated them both.

_____