Golden Girl; 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓦𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂

Fifth Year: Snail-Shells and Potions

Bambi sighed heavily, crossing her arms as she squared off against Fred at the Gryffindor table. They were mid-debate, and neither seemed willing to back down.

"You lot wouldn't stand a chance out there without us!" Fred declared, puffing out his chest for effect.

Bambi scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Please," she said, her tone dripping with mock disdain. "Chasers are the real game-changers. We're the ones who actually score the points, in case you forgot. You'd just be out there swinging your little bats all day without us to carry the game."

Fred's grin widened as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, really? So you think you could handle a bludger or two, huh?" he shot back, his voice teasing but edged with a hint of a challenge.

"Any day," Bambi fired back, her eyes alight with playful defiance. "But I bet you couldn't score a goal to save your life. You'd miss the hoop by a mile."

Fred's expression turned mock-serious as he leaned in. "Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" he said, his voice dropping as if he was about to let her in on a secret.

"Oh, you're on," Bambi retorted, a spark of competition lighting up her gaze.

George groaned dramatically from across the table, clearly unable to resist weighing in. "Merlin, you two sound like an old married couple. Do you ever stop arguing?"

Bambi and Fred immediately turned to glare at him, their reactions so in sync that it only made George laugh. "We do not!" they snapped in unison.

George shrugged, shaking his head, scooting over on the bench as Harry came walking past.

"Oh, hey Harry," Bambi greeted him, shifting as Harry dropped into a seat next to George.

"New third-year course schedules," George said, lining up the papers against the table before passing them over. "What's up with you, Harry?"

"Malfoy," said Ron, sitting down on George's other side and glaring over at the Slytherin table.

Bambi glanced up in time to see Malfoy clutching at his chest dramatically, pretending to faint. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," she muttered, shaking her head. "Is he ever going to grow up?"

"Well his head is too big for his body for one," Ron shot back.

"That little git," George said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running right past our compartment squealing, didn't he, Fred?"

"Nearly wet himself," Fred chimed in, shooting a contemptuous glance at Malfoy, who was now flailing dramatically for effect.

"I wasn't too happy myself," said George, "They're horrible things, those dementors..."

"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" said Fred.

"You two weren't even looking at them," Bambi shook her head, suppressing a shiver.

"You didn't pass out though, did you?" said Harry in a low voice.

"Forget it, Harry," George said bracingly. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been... came out all weak and shaking. They suck the happiness out of a place, dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad there."

"Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match," Fred said with a grin. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?"

"Speaking of," Bambi quipped, "Harry, is a Chaser or Beater more important on a Quidditch team?"

" And we're back," George said, shaking his head.