an interpretation of life

            the other’s version of a compromise is enough to bring the ghost of a smile to her lips. she allows herself to be redirected, tightens her grip on her hand just enough.            ❛ never saw you as one to misuse authority, ❜            she mirthlessly jokes.            ❛ we can’t hide in the kitchens forever. ❜

He shutters violently at the thought. “If bad boy means ‘sycophantic momma’s boy’ to you then I worry James. And please? Peter? Look at me I’m an Adonis, men and women alike throw themselves at my feet. I don’t need to settle for Peter.”

“I have no fucking clue, I would have volunteered but everyone’s made it clear they hate me so I left it to Poe and Finn to figure out. It’s definitely not Hux, we had an disagreement in the library for like an hour on tuesday.”

          bottom lip slips between front teeth, gaze still focused on the floor as she curls her fingers around hermione’s hand.            ❛ oh, please, ❜            she mumbles, eyes finally flickering up to catch hers.            ❛ it’s nothing. really. ❜              

                     he  was  holding  back  an  urge  to  shove  her  away  from  him  with  his  very  own  hands,  don’t  get  him  wrong  about  that.  he  would’ve  done  it  by  now  if  it  weren’t  for  the  fact  that  he  had  morals  and  would  never  touch  a  girl  in  that  way  despite  the  matter  of  her  blood  purity.  he’d  feel  her  breath  on  his  neck,  making  hairs  erect  and  body  shudder  with  slight  disgust.   ❝ get  any  closer,  granger  and  i’ll  be  forced  to  breath  in  your  toxic  air.  perhaps  you’d  prefer  to  get  on  my  back?  would  definitely  make  it  easier  for  you.  ❞  

                     it’s  drilled  in.  from  birth,  he  were  told  anyone  without  pureblood  were  lesser  than  him.  they  weren’t  worthy  of  his  time  nor  his  effort.  yet  he  were  worst  about  purity  around  his  fellow  housemates  then  when  he  were  alone.  they  aren’t  his  own  thoughts,  it  were  like  he  had  been  brainwashed.  with  a  quick  glance  into  the  classroom  and  seeing  that  it  were  abandoned,  he stepped  into  it  with  the  end  of  his  wand  lit  up  and  left  her  behind.  he  didn’t  care  about  her  or  whether  she  folllowed  him,  all  he  cared  about  were  what  he  was  hoping  to  find.

            she looks up, taking a step back from him and staring at the back of his head in a moment of anger. she can feel it then, the same cold fury that had sent her punching malfoy in the middle of their third year.             “you know. i’d take the insults more seriously if any of you were BETTER than me. or how do your supremacy loving peers explain away my being top of the class?”            she knew the attitude rested mostly with the slytherins but that didn’t mean she’d not experienced from their society as a whole. she’d just hoped, as a child, that racism wouldn’t follow her from her small town existence where the faces had all been white and plain, and children had insisted her dad didn’t look like her.

            ❝ nothing i do is ever  a  bad  idea,  granger.  if  you  have  a  problem  with  it,  remember  i  never  invited  you  to  come  along  in  the  first  place.  ❞  a  wand  pointed  at  the  wooden  door  that’s  sealed  shut  and  with  a  simple  utter   of  a  few  words,  it  pushed  open  with  a  creak.

             he’s got her there, but the first part? she doesn’t buy it, sure the slytherins do seem to have a better drive for self preservation than some gryffindors but they ALL lack it occasionally. hermione stays close, attempting to glance over his shoulder in curiosity.

            “i’ve learned when to stop asking questions,”            she deadpans, her arms folding and the set of her shoulders uneasy.             “i do feel the need to tell you this seems like a bad idea.”

          her voice is soft, fingers softer as she makes to take pansy’s hand.            “what if we skived off class? they’d understand.”           hermione offers, sounding conflicted.

“James, please, don’t patronize. Everything I do for you is a labour of love. And you know you love my bad boy charms, don’t deny it.”

“Of course Jamesy, you’re my best friend. I’ll always be here to hold you close, keep you warm, and whisper in your ear that you’re a massive ponce.”

“Like, half an hour so not too bad this time. And you always need to text Finn, he’s like that.”

oh my god.