Blood to Love | 3rd year

2 - First Day Feast

All of the other 3rd years stood around patiently waiting to get onto a carriage. Meanwhile, Blaise and I were cackling over the amounts of students being kicked because of our "kick-me" signs hexed on their poor backs as they trudged onto the boats, which was the first year transportation to Hogwarts.

A long line began forming and students piled into the stopped carriages that would wistfully carry them away.

I've always seen the scaly, beautiful thestrals pulling the carriages, though I've never told anyone—not even Blaise. I usually tell Blaise everything, but this seems to be worth keeping to myself. At least for now.

At the age of nine, I watched my twelve year old sister fall to her doom right in my backyard. It was certainly a traumatic event.

It started with us four family members gathered in our vibrant backyard to play a mini Quidditch game. We set up miniature Quidditch hoops and Dad bought me a broom for the occasion, something I treasure to this day.

It was me and D/n against Eleanor, my sister, and my mom M/n. I passed the loose Quaffle to D/n and he shot it straight in the hoop. We cheered and taunted my mom and sister but it was all good fun.

After scoring, Eleanor took the Quaffle and soared through the air, wind fighting against her, so naturally, I took off after her. I gained speed and flew to her right. I dove for the Quaffle resting in her hands but instead, hit her shoulder. She lost grip of the ball, her balance thrown off, and she chaotically fell off the broom twenty feet to the ground, leaving screams of horror behind. I didn't realize the damage I had done at the time. I think I expected her to get up and yell at me, but she never did.

Those screams still haunt me at night. My parents soon swooped down after her and sobbed in each other's arms. I hovered above on my broom, denial-stricken. My moms agonizing moan broke me from my frozen state. I flew down beside my only sibling and watched as blood seeped into the grass.

The denial ended at that once and skipped straight to anger—mostly towards myself. Why had I been so aggressive? How did I hurt the one person that I could talk to anything about?

My parents hardly spoke to me afterwards, meaning Blaise became the only family I had left. He has always comforted me, but I still couldn't pluck up the courage to talk about her, not even aloud to myself. I couldn't talk about her without crying and questioning why I had to had made such a life-threatening mistake at the age of nine. I wasn't one to hold a grudge—but forgiving myself for killing my sister was an exception.

I finished inspecting the thestrals and linked arms with Blaise. We walked up onto an empty carriage, sat down, and waited for others to join us, as we had to fill up most of the seats and there were only two of us occupying them.

Blaise and I sat across from each other and waited impatiently for others to enter. Pansy Parkinson then decided to strut up to our carriage and sit 2 inches away from Blaise on his side of the small booth-like seats.

Blaise shifted awkwardly, but I was aware that he enjoyed her presence very much. Pansy giggled and poked Blaise's chest playfully, causing me to subtly snort.

"Do you have a problem?" she asked, steam practically exploding out of her ears. It was quite amusing to see her so angry.

"Yes, you," I said, turning my head away from her to avoid her glare.

She huffed but looked back towards Blaise and squeezed his arm while giving her best forced laugh at his joke. After a few more seconds of Pansy being her repulsing self, Draco Malfoy walked into the carriage and sat on my side. He did scoot all the way over to avoid touching, though.