The Girl Who Lived

Midnight Quidditch

March 1st, 1996
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I fixed the sweater around my neck, hiding the beaded necklace underneath the knit collar. My pants were tight, made of soft and worn leather. Tucked into my leather boots, I bent down to fold the long pant legs. I raised myself again and sighed.

Oh how I hated wearing my braids again.

When I was younger, I always wore my long hair in a braid down my back. When I was younger, my Muggle father used to grab me by my braid and yank it tightly if he was angry with me. So, fuck braids.

Regardless of my hatred for them, I braided my hair down my back and flipped it away from me. In the mirror, I looked like I did last year. Only there was something different- aged and matured.

"Lena? Hurry up!" Ginny whispered to me through the door of the bathrooms. I sighed again, washing my hands and straightening my sweater hem.

I left the bathroom, opening the door to find Ginny and Hermione. Ginny was in a similar outfit to mine, except she wore two braids and a thick jacket to fight the air of March.

"Blimey- we're hot." Ginny winked and I fiercely nodded, hooking my arm in hers. We grabbed our brooms and Hermione led us downstairs, already hearing whispering.

The lights in the common room were already turned on, followed by people rushing down the stairs carrying brooms and bottles of Firewhiskey.

This was a tradition, Midnight Quidditch. Every year around the beginning of March, Gryffindor house would sneak out in the middle of the night and head to the Quidditch fields to play until dawn. Half drunk and happy with the night wind blowing through our hair, it was perfection.

The common room was warmly lit with candles for us to light the way down.

Once again, Seamus and Dean were standing awfully close together, sneakily gazing at each other.

I rolled my eyes and began to wonder when they would finally declare their absolute love for each other.

Sneaky arms slid across my waist, enveloping me in a tight hug from behind. I stiffened and smelt the sweet cherry scent. My spine relaxed, giving into the embrace, resting my braided hair on the broad chest underneath my head.

"Lover," Fred whispered into my ear. "you look beautiful as usual." A small tint of rose claimed my cheeks as I shoved away the abyss of emptiness edging to grasp me and drag me under. I would not do this tonight of all days.

Midnight Quidditch was not meant for this.

I turned around, planting a kiss on Fred's lips. As much as I tried to convince myself I was breathing, I wasn't quite sure I was. And I hated myself for it. For the guilt overcoming me.

"I know." I sighed, peering at him through the wisps of my mascara coated eyelashes. His red eyes raised in surprise and pink stained his freckled cheeks.

"Arrogant tonight, aren't we Langston?" He muttered.

Breathe, Elena. Breathe.

I shrugged without another word and smelt the familiar spiced scent of Firewhiskey. At the scent, I thought my lips would have recoiled but instead, I found myself snatching the bottle from a third year walking past and I drank.