CRIMSON TEARS | Harry Potter and the Philospher's Stone [1]

𝘅 | 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆'𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺

The next morning, Malfoy was stunned to see Gwen, Harry and Ron at breakfast, looking tired but cheerful as ever. When they'd met in the common room that morning, Harry had filled both Gwen and Ron in on what he believed was underneath that trap door.

On Harry's birthday, when Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley, he'd picked up a small, rock shaped package from one of the vaults in Gringotts, the one that had been broken into on the same day, which Gwen had seen in the newspapers the day they'd come to Hogwarts. Harry added that Hagrid had said that Gringotts was the safest place for things, except for maybe Hogwarts, which made a lot of sense considering a giant three headed dog was guarding whatever it was that Hagrid had picked up.

'It's either extremely valuable or extremely dangerous,' Gwen said, eating her bacon.

'Or both,' added Ron.

After speaking to the boys, Gwen had realised that, despite how terrifying it had been in the moment, the previous night had been an awfully fun adventure. She agreed with them that she wanted to have some more.

Hermione had refused to speak to any of them, except for Neville, but those two didn't talk much anyway. It made evenings very uncomfortable in the dorm room, and the other girls had definitely noticed the rift that had grown between Hermione and Gwen, but Gwen tried to not let it get to her. She spent most nights in the Common Room now, staying up until past midnight when she was sure all the other girls would be asleep, either reading on her own or listening to Fred and George's elaborate plans to prank the school.

Gwen had had one encounter with Draco Malfoy since that night, and it had been as unpleasant as ever. He, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, had cornered her in a corridor between lessons, saying that she was a disgrace to the Sacred Twenty Eight. She refused to give him the reaction he wanted, and had instead coolly explained that somebody with ridiculous, outdated beliefs such as that clearly had no need to be preaching it, if he genuinely believed he was superior to other blood statuses.

Draco had snarled, called her a blood traitor and stormed off.

Later that evening, when she'd told Harry and Ron about the encounter, Harry had asked what the Sacred Twenty Eight was.

Reluctantly, she explained.

'They're the last pure wizarding families in Britain and Ireland,' she told him. 'Pure Blood Supremacists use it as an example to show that they're better than other statuses.'

'How can someone be just Pure Blood?' Harry asked. 'Surely there will be other ancestors who weren't?'

Gwen inhaled uncomfortably. 'Lots of Pure Bloods have inbred to keep themselves pure. They only marry other Pure Bloods, and all Pure Bloods are related in some way. My grandparents were cousins, for example.'

Harry grimaced. 'How do you know if you're part of it?'

Ron, who looked as uncomfortable as Gwen, glanced at her.