Wanna Be Saved

- Five -

Chapter Five
Tickets and Trinkets

Bronwyn's summer had not come to a very good end, she had remained arguing with Harry on and off. The two friends being completely unable to find an agreement at any point. It had all started over the Order. Bronwyn, personally, wanted nothing to do with it, she did not like the idea of it she didn't like what they stood for and she didn't like the atmosphere the group created in the house she was supposed to be calling her temporary home. Harry was clearly the opposite, it was evident he was being groomed by a certain long haired old cooky wizard to fight and defeat Lord Voldemort, and therefore Harry was all about getting involved with the Order. He could not understand how Bronwyn could not want to get involved. To fight for the good, to take a leading stance on everything. But Bronwyn could not understand why he was so willing to do so. He had lost his parents, he had watched another student be murdered and was still willing to give everything and join in. Neither friend was willing to give in or truly understand the other. And it was causing them to come to verbal blows rather frequently. 

The worst moment had come upon Bronwyn receiving the Gryffindor Prefect badge. Hermione had been happy for her friend having hoped that out of the limited number of girls in their year that it would be between the two. And even when Bronwyn had admitted she didn't understand why it was not Hermione the older witch had gone onto an entire monologue about how untrue it was. Even when Bronwyn admitted to not knowing exactly what she had to do as a prefect Hermione had been more than supportive and was willing to work the younger girl through everything before they went back. Harry, however, upon noticing that his letter was missing a badge did not take it as well. Not understanding how he could not have been chosen considering his acts over the previous year, confused as to who else it could possibly go to over him. There was no chance it could have gone to little wimpy Neville over him no way. And this had led to the biggest argument of the whole summer between them both. 

"I don't understand Harry, what is the problem with me getting prefect?" Bronwyn had pushed tired of the complaining and the way of which he had spoken to her upon opening their letters. 

"That's the thing, you don't clearly know. Why do you have it and I don't?" Harry's voice was raised anger evident in that and the clear facial expression he was using as he looked at her.

"How am I supposed to answer that?"Bronwyn's voice was not raised like his had been rather it remained in the same exhausted state it had been during all of their conversations as of recently.

"Well what have you done deserving of Prefect?" Harry's words were biting, something she had asked herself over and over again, alas having found no answer. 

"I don't know. Something clearly." Bronwyn knew this argument was going to go in circles as he continued to make her feel like shit. But she wanted to remain being a good friend and if that meant to continue allowing him to speak to her like this, so that he felt better. It didn't matter. She felt horrible most of the time as it is what did it matter if she pounded this onto it as well.  

"I mean I'm the chosen one, you're just Ron." Harry's words were so clear, and very much something Bronwyn felt. And it hurt knowing one of her closest friends also felt that way. Hermione who had remained silent during the argument but close to Bronwyn's side gave her hand a little squeeze of support before rounding to look squarely at Harry.

"Harry James Potter, how dare you speak to Bronwyn that way. Bronwyn is our friend and friends support each others achievements." Hermione's words were clear with what Bronwyn gathered was disapproval though she was not utterly convinced either way. 

"You guys sound so ridiculous right now."

"We're arguing for the sake of arguing. Holy Shit, I'm sounding ridiculous? Have you heard yourself recently. Get your fucking ears checked." Bronwyn's voice had raised enough to gather the attention of the others in the house she paused for a second watching as Harry's face morphed from its angry one to another she didn't understand. 

"I'm sorry for whatever wrong I have done. But this is getting ridiculous. For once can you not be happy for someone who isn't yourself? Fucking hell it's like walking on egg shells around you all the time. Can't do well, can't achieve anything. Am I supposed to turn something down because you didn't get there first. What if I was really happy about this, what if it was something I really wanted. You're an absolute prat." Bronwyn removed herself from the situation turning on her heel and walking away from Harry and in the direction of her sanctuary. 

A few days later upon the train, the argument was far from being sorted. In actuality, neither Bronwyn nor Harry could really stand to be in the same room as one another. Harry having feeling wronged by his friends last set of accusations. Bronwyn for the necessity to avoid further arguing. And upon boarding the train for their fifth year, she had been rather happy to make herself available for the earliest of Prefect responsibilities. And if that meant patrolling the corridors for a short period of time then so be it. 

Bronwyn shuffled up and down the corridors, realising just how boring this was and how boring a lot of the other duties was going to be. Her feet lightly bounced upon the carpeted flooring as her eyes flickered through the different compartments making sure nothing untoward was happening. Knowing full well she probably wouldn't report anything anyways. If the Hufflepuff's were going to be getting high on the way in, good for them because the welcome back dinner was a complete bore unless you were a first year. She wondered if any of them would be willing to share their stash with her, at least it might have made her more happy.  As the thoughts flicked through her mind, Bronwyn was unaware of having entered the section of the train which was mainly populated by the Slytherin students. It was not a thing that the train was actually separated, that was a myth. However, the different houses did tend to congregate in certain areas. Her tall lanky figure made contact with another and she felt herself completely ground. Bronwyn was not short, rather the opposite, and therefore it was rather hard to move her when someone shorter collided with her. This person happened to be only a centimetre or two shorter than her and she felt quickly the expense of their woollen coat. 

"Cute braids Weasley." The voice drew her attention, it was one she had hardly heard but knew. The voice belonged to none other than Blaise Zabini, the quiet slightly mysterious blood supremest. Someone she could not like on principle, even if he was rather attractive with his high cheekbones, and captivating eyes with the longest set of eyelashes she had ever seen. Her hand went to press against the two small braids which drew her hair away from over framing her face, it was a hairstyle she had seen spoken about in her traditional books. Something meant to signify the importance of magic to the wearer, something her grandmother had been more than happy to explain further to her. She only gave him a slight smile in response though it probably came across as more of a grimace. 

"Uh, thanks Zabini." Bronwyn was never one good with words she was loud usually, bashful but the actual content of her words. That was usually missing. Rather she took a step back making it so now she had to actually look down upon him slightly before deciding it was not worth any further interaction. One step to the side was enough to separate them from each others pathway. And she continued on, unaware that the teenaged boy she had bumped into was stuck in the place they had collided. 

A perplexed look upon his face, Blaise Zabini suddenly became much more interested in the oldest Weasley girl. He had been paying a bit too much attention to the ring she wore upon her right ring finger which had caused the collision. And once they had bumped into each other he had also taken notice of her choice in how she was wearing her hair. And that was when he had confirmed it, Bronwyn Weasley was a traditional witch and not just some blood traitor like he had supposed she was. Traditional witches had been hard to find, and he had taken no interest in the ones in his own School house. He would be lying by stating that Bronwyn Weasley was not an attractive girl, he hated to admit it but he had thought she pretty for a year or so now. And upon seeing her after this holiday, a holiday in which had clearly changed something deep within her he was even more intrigued. 

Blaise Zabini loved a challenge. He loved a mystery more than anything. Something he could sink his teeth into. 

And Bronwyn Weasley was just that.