"Didn't know you was into gingers, Malfoy?"
"Shut up Weasley"
-
Gemma Weasley shared many similarities with her siblings, the ginger hair, pale skin, freckles and a super sense of humour, yet she was the one that stood out from them all. Even her tw...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As I sat in the Great Hall, I couldn't shake the feeling that I no longer belonged. The invisible wall between me and my friends seemed higher than ever. I pushed my eggs around my plate, not really tasting anything, just thinking about how I had gotten here. It wasn't just the kiss with Draco. It was the looks I was getting from Ron, the way Hermione's smile never quite reached her eyes anymore, and how even Harry—though distracted with the Tournament—seemed to avoid my gaze.
Ginny had stuck by me, after explaining everything, crying to her for hours she finally listened and understood the conflicting pain I was in. Seamus and Dean also were by my side, yet they didn't particularly like Draco, they were my best friends and would do anything for me.
Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts. I glanced up to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing by the doors to the Great Hall. Hermione's brow was furrowed in concern, and Harry seemed deep in thought as Ron, always the loudest, gestured with his hands, clearly agitated. I caught Hermione's eye for a moment, and she gave me a quick, sympathetic smile. But it was short-lived.
"Come on, mate," Ron muttered, nodding toward the door. "Let's get to the library. We'll figure this out."
They turned and left the Hall. My stomach twisted, knowing that once again, I wouldn't be included in whatever mission they were on. That distance between us had become unbearable. With a sigh, I grabbed my bag and headed toward the library. If I couldn't be a part of things, at least I could keep myself occupied.
The library was quiet as usual, the faint scent of parchment and old books filling the air. I found a seat behind a tall stack of spell books, hoping to get lost in my own thoughts. I flipped through the pages of a Potions text, but my mind wandered.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered not long after, whispering to one another. I strained to hear them, but Ron's voice cut through the murmur.
"So Cedric sent you to the Prefects bathroom?" Ron whispered, his voice full of frustration. "What good does that do? It's just a bloody bathroom!"
Hermione shushed him, her sharp eyes scanning the area for any eavesdroppers. I shrank further into my chair, but I couldn't help listening.
"It didn't scream underwater, it gave me a riddle." Harry muttered, clearly irritated by Ronald's lack of irritation.
"We're not going to solve anything by bickering." Hermione sighed.
As they settled into a table nearby, I tried not to be obvious as I glanced their way. Harry had his hands full, and they needed to be focused on the Tournament. But I missed being part of their circle, missed the late-night discussions, and even the heated arguments. Now, all I had was the silence that filled the spaces where my friends used to be.
I watched them huddle together, exchanging ideas and theories, while I remained on the outskirts. I could still hear Ron's low grumbles, echoing through the gaps in their conversation. Hours had passed and I had completed every bit of revision i needed, all the essays I was due and the three of them were still in the library, Hermione pacing, Ronald snoring and Harry half asleep.
