ᴘʏʀʀʜɪᴄ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ// ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡʜᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀᴜ

THE FIREBOLT P.T 1

Bluebell didn't have a very clear idea of how she had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All she knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that she hardly noticed what she was doing, because her head was still pounding with the conversation she had just heard.

Bluebell found herself suddenly alone as she purposefully distanced herself from her friends, who had been exchanging worried glances and looks of sympathy she didn't want. Finding solace in the sanctuary of the nearest restroom, she was relieved to discover it empty.

Now alone, her simmering anger began to boil over into fury. The weight of the revelation gnawed at her, the betrayal of omission cutting deep. It was incomprehensible—how could they have kept such a crucial truth from her? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, Cornelius Fudge, and worst of all, her own sister. The bitterness of her sister's silence stung the most; why had she never spoken of their parents' fate, tied so closely to their uncle's betrayal?

Bluebell paced the small room, her mind racing with questions and indignation. She couldn't shake the feeling of being fooled. The echo of the conversation she overheard echoed in her thoughts, fueling her fury even more. Yet amidst the rage, a stubborn refusal to let herself be consumed by hurt hardened her resolve.

She leaned against the cool tiles of the restroom wall, breathing deeply as she struggled to contain the tempest of emotions within her. The air seemed thick with the weight of what she now knew and with the uncertainty of what to do next. 

As Bluebell stood in the restroom, trying to calm her turbulent thoughts, the irritating sound of laughter echoed through the walls. The laughter grated on her already frayed nerves, aggravating her anger further. The unmistakable scent of smoke drifted in, confirming her suspicion that the girls were indulging in a cigarette.

Initially, Bluebell decided to ignore them, focusing on splashing cold water on her face to regain composure. Just as she turned on the faucet, intending to drown out their voices, a familiar name pierced through the noise. It was Penelope Green. 

"I swear, the Green girl is so pathetic. Always hiding in the background, like she's too scared to even speak up," one voice scoffed.

"Not that I enjoy those pushovers but she's just a waste of space in Hufflepuff. Can't believe she made it into this school. Probably got in on pity," another voice added, the disdain palpable. "It's also probably why  Bluebell King lets that little fat mouse hang with her." 

"She's a half-blood, figures that's why she's so weird," the first girl huffs, "Heard she's also staying for Christmas."

 "You know what we should do over Christmas break?" one of them continued, voice dripping with malice. "Let's lock her inside the broom closet for a few hours. See how she likes being alone,"

The other girl giggles, "Oh, my Merlin, yes. She'll probably cry like a baby."

The rage inside Bluebell surged like a tidal wave, an unstoppable force propelling her towards action. Unaware of her own movements, her legs carried her swiftly to the stall door. With a swift flick of her wand and a muttered "Alohomora," the lock clicked open, and Bluebell threw the door wide.

The girls, a couple of older Ravenclaws, were caught off guard, and jumped in surprise, dropping their cigarettes to the ground as they turned to face Bluebell, who trembled with fury.

"What the fuck were ya sayin' bout Penelope?" Bluebell hissed through gritted teeth.

The girls froze, their faces registering a mix of shock and surprise at being caught. Bluebell's gaze burned with intensity, demanding an answer. The silence stretched, heavy with tension, as she waited for them to respond. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest, her emotions a tempest ready to erupt.