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 morning of the Quidditch match arrived with a storm so fierce, it felt like the castle itself was trembling. Rain lashed against the stone walls of Hogwarts, the wind howling like a creature from the Forbidden Forest. The sky, thick with swirling gray clouds, seemed determined to smother any hope of sunlight. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, promising a day of chaos and danger.
Beatrice woke early, the sound of the storm outside making sleep impossible. She lay in her four-poster bed, staring at the canopy above her, listening to the rain hammering against the windows of the Hufflepuff dormitory. The match was in just a few hours, and despite the brutal weather, there was no sign of cancellation. Quidditch matches weren't called off for a little rain — not even for torrential downpours like this one.
She swung her legs out of bed, her feet hitting the cold stone floor as she stood. Her mind was already racing with thoughts of the game. Gryffindor would be their opponent now.. And with Harry Potter as their Seeker, it wouldn't be easy. But Beatrice had been training relentlessly, and so had the rest of her team. They were ready — or at least, they ha
The storm showed no sign of relenting as the Hufflepuff team gathered in the locker room. The sound of rain pounding on the roof echoed around them, and the air was heavy with the smell of wet leather from their Quidditch gear. Everyone sat on the benches, silent and tense. Their yellow and black uniforms hung limp from the dampness, and even the magically enchanted lights flickered slightly as the storm raged on outside.
Beatrice leaned against a locker, her arms crossed tightly. Across from her, Hannah adjusted her gloves nervously, while Leanne and Susan whispered quietly, casting uneasy glances at the door. The match was moments away, and the weight of the upcoming battle against Gryffindor loomed like the dark clouds outside.
— It's going to be madness out there. — Hannah muttered, glancing at Beatrice as she approached. — I'm not sure we've ever played in conditions like this before.—
Beatrice crossed her arms, her gaze steady despite the storm inside and out. — Gryffindor's in the same storm as we are. We're not giving them an inch. We've trained for this. We've handled worse.—
— Have we? — Leanne asked, her voice tinged with doubt. — The wind's howling like a banshee. And with Harry on the Gryffindor team...—
Suddenly, the door opened, and Cedric Diggory walked in, soaked to the bone but radiating confidence. He was calm, despite the storm and the pressure of leading the team against one of the strongest houses. Everyone's eyes turned to him as he stood in the center of the room, shaking the rain from his hair. His usual easy smile was gone, replaced by a serious, focused expression.
He looked around at his team — Beatrice, Hannah, Leanne, Susan, and the rest — each of them seasoned players, each of them capable in their own right. But today, they needed something more. Today, they needed belief.
