Beatrice Lestrange has always been an outsider in her own story. Born into one of the darkest families in the wizarding world, she grew up under the looming shadow of her infamous mother Bellatrix Lestrange.
Despite this, Beatrice is nothing like th...
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The corridors of Hogwarts echoed with a mixture of hurried footsteps and hushed whispers as Beatrice and her friends made their way toward the hospital wing. The unsettling events that had unfolded moments earlier left an air of tension among the group, particularly Beatrice, who couldn't shake the image of Draco's bloodied arm from her mind.
As they approached the hospital wing, the once lighthearted banter between Beatrice, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, Blaise and Mattheo was replaced by a strained silence. Even Blaise, who was typically quick with a joke, kept his head down as they hurried forward.
—That was so... sudden,—Daphne muttered under her breath, her brow furrowed.—Do you think Draco will be alright?—
Beatrice nodded, trying to suppress the knot of worry that twisted in her stomach. Despite Draco's often infuriating behavior, he was still her cousin.—He'll be fine,—she said, trying to sound confident, though her voice wavered. —Hagrid's bringing him to Madam Pomfrey. She'll patch him up in no time.—
Pansy huffed, crossing her arms.—I swear, Draco's always getting into trouble. It's like he has a magnet for bad decisions.—
Beatrice gave a half-hearted smile, but her mind was elsewhere, focused on the severity of the gash and the sight of blood staining Draco's robes. She hadn't expected things to escalate so quickly, even with Malfoy's penchant for pushing limits.
As they rounded the corner to the hospital wing, they saw Hagrid, looking pale and distraught, standing outside the large wooden doors, waiting for any word from Madam Pomfrey. His usual boisterous energy had drained, replaced with an anxious, slumped posture.
When he spotted the approaching students, his face twisted into a remorseful expression.—I didn' mean fer it ter go like that,—he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.—I thought Malfoy knew better than ter insult a hippogriff like that.—
—It wasn't your fault, Hagrid,—Blaise piped up, his voice firm.—Draco was being reckless. You warned us all.—
Beatrice stepped forward, laying a hand on Hagrid's massive arm.—He's right, Hagrid. Draco was showing off, as usual. This isn't on you.—Though her voice was calm, her fingers trembled slightly as they touched Hagrid's coat.
Before anyone could respond, the doors to the hospital wing creaked open, revealing Madam Pomfrey, her stern face giving nothing away.
—He's stable,—she said curtly, wiping her hands on a towel.—He'll make a full recovery, but it'll take some time for that gash to heal properly. Stupid boy—should have known better than to provoke a hippogriff.—
Relief washed over Beatrice, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. For all his arrogance, Draco was still family, and she didn't want to imagine what might have happened if things had been worse.
Madam Pomfrey's sharp eyes scanned the gathered students.—Only immediate family or those with permission can visit. The rest of you, back to your classes. I'll send word when he's well enough to leave.—
