salvation - f.weasley

The duel

à ma place - axel bauer, zazie

• • •

The evening before classes resume, the atmosphere at the Ravenclaw table is cheerful. Everyone is going to come back from holidays at any moment now. Grace sits with Achilles, chatting lightly as they wait for Ania and Roger to arrive. The students slowly fill the Great Hall, the air buzzing with that familiar Hogwarts excitement.

When Roger enters and spots the blond next to Grace, his face lights up.

"Belmont! What are you doing with my Gracie?" he exclaims, pulling Achilles into a quick hug.

Achilles barely has a chance to respond before Grace, frowning, interjects, "Wait, you two know each other?"

"I know everyone, G," Roger replies with a smirk, settling into his seat as Ania silently takes her place beside him.

Achilles turns to Grace, still smiling. "Davies here has been my Potions partner more than once."

Grace raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry for you."

Achilles chuckles, but before he can respond, Roger flings a piece of bread at her, joining in on the joke.

But the lightness doesn't last. Grace feels Ania's eyes on her, a heavy, piercing gaze she can't ignore. Trying to distract herself, she reaches for the plate of vegetables, keeping her head down as she mumbles, "So, how were your holidays?"

"Obviously not as great as yours," Ania snaps, her tone cold and cutting.

Grace looks up, startled. "I'm sorry?"

Ania doesn't reply, letting the silence settle like a weight on the group. She turns instead to Achilles, her expression still sharp. "I don't think we've met before, have we?"

Achilles shakes his head politely. "No, I mean, I've already seen you, but we've never talked. I'm not very found of social gatherings."

"Well, something you and Grace have in common then," Ania says pointedly, the bitterness clear in her voice. Achilles glances at Grace, unsure of the tension he's suddenly walked into.

Sensing the awkwardness, Roger launches into a lively recount of his Christmas break, going into unnecessary detail about the food, the presents, even his wardrobe. But Grace isn't paying attention. She's too busy watching Ania, whose lips are pressed into a thin line, clearly angry about something. No matter how hard she tries to figure it out, Grace can't think of what she could've possibly done wrong.

"And what did you two get up to?" Roger asks casually, grinning at the pair. "Glad to see you hanging out. I hope you took good care of our Gracie, Belmont."

Achilles smiles, and before Grace can react, she chokes on a sip of water at Roger's words. Achilles instinctively pats her on the back as she gasps for air. "It's alright, thanks," she mutters, still coughing.

His hand lingers on her back a moment too long, and Grace does nothing to move it. But the moment Ania sees, her expression shifts to disdain. She abruptly stands, dropping her napkin on the table with a loud clatter. "Oh, I'm sure he took very good care of her," she says, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Without another word, Ania storms out of the Great Hall, leaving a heavy silence in her wake. The boys exchange confused glances while Grace lets out a frustrated sigh.

Achilles takes Ania's reaction as a sign and removes his hand from Grace's back, his earlier smile fading.

"What the bloody hell's got into her?" Roger asks, chewing with his mouth full.