Hidden hearts

Blushing idiots and fights

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Blushing idiots and fights
Nervous
by the           neighbourhood
‧₊˚✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦*.
       
Arabella woke up at 7 AM to the sun shining through the curtains of her dormitory room, casting a golden glow across the space. She groaned, reluctantly pushing herself up from the warmth of her bed. As she stretched and yawned, her eyes fell on her friend Cho, who was already awake and getting ready for the day. "Hey, Cho, good morning," Arabella said with a hopeful smile.

Cho didn't respond. Instead, she glanced at Arabella with a cold, disdainful look before turning away. Arabella's heart sank; it was clear that Cho had read the latest rumors in the Daily Prophet and believed them. Feeling a wave of sadness, Arabella scanned the room, seeking out her other friends. She tried to catch their eyes, hoping for some sign of support or acknowledgment, but they all avoided her gaze, their expressions indifferent or hostile. Johanna had already left for her classes with her usual group, leaving Arabella alone and feeling abandoned.

Arabella stormed out into the hallway, feeling a storm of anger and loneliness brewing inside her. Her eyes locked onto Malfoy as he sauntered down the corridor, his usual sneer plastered on his face. The hatred she felt for him surged to the surface. "Oh, yes, have you been left all alone? No one wants you anymore, not even that scum Potter," Malfoy taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

The words stung like a slap to the face. Arabella's vision blurred with rage as she strode over to him. Grabbing him by the collar, she pulled him close, her voice a low, dangerous hiss. "Take that back or I will kill you right here, right now." Without waiting for a response, she swung her fist, connecting with his jaw in a satisfying crack.

Malfoy staggered, but quickly recovered, his eyes narrowing with fury. "No, I won't," he spat, and before she could react, his fist collided with her face. Pain exploded in her nose, and she felt the warm tickle of blood running down to shirt.

Fueled by a mixture of pain and anger, Arabella retaliated, her fists flying. She punched him again. And again. And again. Each blow was a release of all the frustration and hurt that had been building up inside her. Blood started to drip from Malfoy's mouth, and he finally raised his hands in surrender. "I take it back. I'm sorry," he mumbled, blood running down his chin.

Arabella paused, her breath ragged. "Good. Know that if you ever do anything like that again to anyone, you will end up more hurt than just a punch in the jaw," she warned, smirking as she tried to stem the bleeding from her nose. She turned and walked away, her steps shaky but determined. She needed to find Harry.

She made her way to the Gryffindor portrait, hoping someone would open it for her. A little Gryffindor girl, eyes wide with surprise and concern, opened the door and stepped aside to let Arabella in

Arabella headed straight for the common room, where Harry was sitting on a sofa, engrossed in a book. He looked up as she approached, and his eyes widened in shock. "Shit, what have you done to your face?!" he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.

"Malfoy did it. Now I look like Voldy," she replied with a laugh, trying to inject some humor into the situation despite the throbbing pain in her nose.

Harry's expression softened with concern. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he said, guiding her to a chair. As he fetched a cloth and some healing ointment, Arabella felt a wave of relief wash over her.

"Bambi, I can do it myself," Arabella protested, trying to take the cloth from Harry's hand.

"Raven, no, let me do it," he insisted, grabbing her wrist gently to move her hand away. Their hands touched, and Arabella felt a warm blush creeping up her cheeks.