How Not To Fall For A Dragon Chapter 20

**LEXI**

I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about the whole defence class conversation. A part of me wants to bristle, because I should be able to protect myself. Another part of me knows Blake’s kind of right. If someone handed me a list of classes, Defence Skills probably wouldn’t even make my top ten. I can admit that without feeling weak. Probably. And… Annoyingly… It IS kind of sweet that Blake is the one advocating for some kind of teamwork approach. The same Blake who pretends he doesn’t need anyone and doesn’t care what everyone thinks of him. That Blake is the one saying it’s okay to not be alone. It’s a nice feeling. Which lasts until I reach my Potions class and immediately get slapped in the face with reality. I don’t know exactly what I expected, maybe cauldrons? bubbling beakers? something dramatic? But based on the shelves lining the walls, this is basically chemistry’s eccentric witchy cousin. There are odd-looking burners humming with faintly coloured flames, racks of glass vials that glint like they’re judging me for not knowing what they are, metal stirrers, engraved measuring spoons, and ingredients stored in jars that I’m pretty sure would get a regular lab condemned. The room is set up with two-person workstations. Partners. Of course. And somehow, either because the class number is uneven, or someone’s late, or the universe is just continuing its personal vendetta against me, I end up sitting dead-centre in the room at a two-person desk… Alone. Completely, painfully, obviously alone. Yay… It’s not like anyone says anything. They just… Don’t sit with me. Which sort of poses a question. Who here is judgmental, who here is scared, and who here just doesn’t want to risk becoming collateral damage in the social fallout of talking to me. Or to Blake, by extension. Or to the wolf pack’s newest favourite chew toy, apparently. Maybe they’re terrified of him. Maybe they’re terrified of the wolves. Maybe they’re terrified of ending up with the same reputation I apparently earned in less than a day. Whatever the reason, the result is the same. I end up alone, in this class at least. It stings more than I want to admit. The logical part of me says it’s fine, that I’ve done alone before, that I’m used to isolated seats and awkward distancing and people making snap judgements based on rumours they didn’t even bother to verify. But something about the empty chair beside me feels… Pointed. I straighten my spine, fold my hands neatly on the desk, and force myself to breathe. It is what it is. I’ll manage. I always do.

The class hasn’t technically started yet, the teacher’s nowhere in sight, but at least the desk has a textbook tucked inside. I pull it out and flip through it, trying to look busy, composed, unbothered. The usual basically. Someone clears their throat and I look up. Of course it’s Mallory. If the universe wanted to give me a moment of peace, apparently now is not the time. She’s standing there with an expression so smug I’m shocked she can lift her own face.

“All dried off, huh? But now you’re sitting by yourself. I did warn you, you know.” She says pointedly. Wonderful. She’s decided to start the morning with a victory lap. I sigh and try the oldest coping skill known to mankind. Ignoring the problem until it goes away. Mallory does not go away. Damn it. She steps closer, right into my personal space, and closes my textbook with one finger. Right on my hand. I look up and glare.

“Seriously? That’s just childish.” I grumble. And for some reason, I stand up. Maybe it’s instinct, maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s some leftover stubborn momentum from last night, but I am not letting her loom over me while she talks down to me. Something feels off. Huh, we’re almost the same height. Oh… The heels. Good job, magic closet, turns out you knew what you were doing. Mallory rolls her eyes like she’s the one being inconvenienced here.

“I am TRYING to be nice. I warned you, but it’s like you have NO sense of self-preservation. That dragon could KILL you, you know!” She lectures. I sigh. Loudly.

“Okay… And?” I ask. She blinks at me, thrown off by the complete lack of hysteria she was clearly expecting.

“And it’s stupid for you to hang around someone dangerous like that!” She insists, speaking slowly, like I’m a toddler eating dirt.

“Alright, first of all, killing someone? Not actually that hard. Honestly all you need is a pointy object or something heavy. So what you ACTUALLY mean is that Blake could probably kill me a little easier or more efficiently than the average person here, which is saying something, seeing as most of the people at this academy have fangs or claws or magical death-sparkles.” I start. Mallory opens and closes her mouth like a confused goldfish.

“Uh… Yeah. That. I guess that’s right.” She mumbles. 

“Great.” I continue, nodding. 

“SO, what I’m hearing is that Blake is powerful and potentially deadly. In that case, shouldn’t I not piss him off? Shouldn’t I not gossip about him behind his back? Shouldn’t I not treat him like a monster when he literally hasn’t done anything to me?” I ask. She stares at me, completely lost.

“I… Well… That’s… That’s not…” She stammers. I raise an eyebrow.

“Are you seriously suggesting that I SHOULD antagonise the guy who, according to you, can burn down villages and commit mass murder? Wow. And you think I’M the one with no self-preservation?” I demand. Mallory sputters, and for the first time since I met her, she looks genuinely unsure of her footing. Confusion is practically radiating off her. I turn away, done with this entire exchange, and sit back down.

“Just leave me alone, Mallory. That’s what you said you were going to do, so stick to the plan.” I suggest. She backs away toward her seat, more like stumbles, as if I’ve hit her with a spell of bewilderment. I let out a slow breath. If you can’t convince them, confuse them. One point to me. Though… Considering the fountain incident, I suppose the score is technically even. Maybe that will be enough for her and her little wolf-pack entourage to drop it… Yeah. I’m not holding my breath. But at least, if a fight does break out later, everyone in this room will know I wasn’t the one who started it.

I’m slightly disappointed to discover we don’t get to make anything fun, or explosive, or even remotely interesting during our first potions class. No colour-changing concoctions, no bubbling cauldrons, no mystical fumes. Not even a simple tea. Instead, we spend the entire time going through safety rules, storage procedures, and a surprisingly detailed lecture on why poison is frowned upon. A thought, by the way, that had genuinely never crossed my mind until Professor Matthews looked directly at the class and very firmly said;

“If I catch anyone making poison, you will fail this class, be expelled from the academy, and possibly be arrested.” He finished with a solid glare at the entire room. I blinked. I hadn’t even considered poisoning someone until that very moment. Thanks, Professor. Professor Matthews himself is… Big. In every possible sense. Tall, broad-shouldered, loud in the projecting to the back row without even trying way, not the yelling at you way. He’s nearly bald, either naturally or by choice, and his face is dominated by a huge, infectious grin. The kind of grin that tells you he wakes up every morning genuinely excited to teach people how not to blow themselves up. Honestly, the only time that smile even slightly wavered was during the poison lecture. I guess that part gets serious. Still, the class was nice. Informative enough, even if it’s not exactly thrilling. And hey, at least I didn’t accidentally embarrass myself. Today. In this particular class. When we’re dismissed, I pack up my things and head out, and there he is. Blake. Leaning against the wall like some sort of bored guardian statue brought to life. The moment he spots me, he pushes off the wall and straightens, clearly waiting for me. A flutter of warmth moves through my chest before I can stop it. He falls into step beside me as easily as if we’ve been doing this for months instead of… Uh… Twenty hours? Give or take?

“We have Basic Spellcasting next.” He says.

“I know! I’m actually excited for this one.” I admit, and I can’t help the grin that slips onto my face. 

“The idea of actually being able to cast a spell? With my own magic? That’s pretty amazing. Assuming I actually can…” I trail off. Blake nods, amusement tugging at his mouth.

“I figured you’d like this class.” He agrees, We walk together toward the next building, my mood lighter now that I have company for the next subject. Despite how lonely my first class this morning was, this part, walking to class beside someone who actually wants to walk with me, feels great. And spellcasting? Oh, this should be fun.