Unforgivable Curse

Chapter eight : I don't kiss and tell

Once you were back in your dorm you rushed over to your wardrobe to pick what to wear, as you had been in the hospital wing you had lost crucial getting ready time. Hermione, however, stayed behind in your dorm waiting for you. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and saw the purplish bruise that had began to develop on your arm where you had been hit by the bludger and decided to wear something with long sleeves to cover it up. In the end you settled for a black dress with silver sparkles which you paired with a beautiful white cloak you had been gifted by your nan on your 13th birthday.

"Are you ready yet Ashley, we're going to miss the beginning race" Hermione called out as you emerged from the bathroom. Hermione was wearing a plum coloured dress which made her look absolutely stunning, you always thought Hermione was gorgeous. 

"Yes, we'd better run there" You replied picking up your bag which you had placed your wand in. 

As you ran down to the dark forest the cool October air whipped against your face, it was in that weird in-between phase where it wasn't Summer or warm anymore but it also wasn't quite the temperature to need a coat. Never the less as it pelted against your skin you could feel your cheeks growing rosier by the second. 

Eventually you got to the clearing and clearly saw the table in the centre, Gryffindor quidditch team stood at one end and the Slytherin at another. A bunch of other students from all four houses crammed around, trying to get a glimpse of the table. 

"Freddie!" You called out from the back of the crowd trying to get someone on the teams attention. He turned around to face you and his face erupted in happiness.

"Look everyone its Ash, the best player of the season!" He called out happily, the majority of faces turned around and greeted you with a smile.

"Come on then make a path, let her through" George ordered the gathering of people who instantly parted like the red sea to let you up to the team. 

When you reached the table you realised the race hadn't quite began yet as the shot glasses were all still full. Nobody really knew who started 'the race', as it had become to be known as, but it was just a Hogwarts tradition after every quidditch match. You reckoned it was the Slytherin's as they were always so stubborn to prove their worth after losing matches. The idea of it all was that both teams had to drink various different shots which would affect there abilities to play, the last man standing on each side would have to race to a broomstick and complete a lap of the forest and whoever could do it in the fastest time, or just stay on their broom, would be the winner.

 As Gryffindor had won the match your team got to go first, and as man of the match you were up. Katie patted your back as you stood up to the table, the drinks were various alcohols and potions, which the Slytherin's obviously had an advantage at brewing as Gryffindor's had to sneak in supplies whereas they had permission from Snape to brew whatever whenever. You drew your hand up to a glass, a dark brown liquid sat inside it, you were praying it was fire-whiskey. You downed the glass and smacked it onto the table as the heat scorched your throat, although it was an unpleasant feeling you jumped for joy as it was nothing you couldn't handle. 

Next up was Adrian Pucey,  a Slytherin player, he chose a dark purple shot, which is never wise because it was obviously a potion, no whiskey is purple. He looked up after taking his shot and instantly threw up. Behind you you heard Fred and George high-five, puking pastilles, you thought to yourself shaking your head. Angelina took the next shot for Gryffindor and was also ruled out after she shot a sleeping draught. 

A couple shots later and all that remained was yourself, Draco Malfoy, Jackson and Fred. There were only two shots left on each side. One of the shots on the Slytherin side was a potion you and Hermione had brewed together, it was Polyjuice but you had added some of Crookshanks' hair to it, meaning the drinker would turn into a cat-like being and be unable to play, the other was another Weasley creation melted down. On the Gryffindor side one shot contained a dark brown liquid, fire whiskey you thought, and the other a bright red concoction. It was your turn and you decided the best bet was to go fire whiskey. You took the shot and were instantly filled with regret as you did not receive the usual burning sensation.