𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍, george weasley

015

FIFTEEN

The morning of the first Quidditch match of the season dawned crisp and clear, the perfect weather for flying. Gryffindor versus Slytherin was always a tense event, but this year the stakes felt even higher. With the Chamber of Secrets looming over the castle, the team was more on edge than ever.

Victoria sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, watching the players pick at their breakfast. Angelina and Alicia exchanged nervous glances, Fred and George were unusually quiet, and Harry looked downright queasy.

"You all need to eat something," Victoria said gently, nudging Harry's plate toward him. "You can't win if you faint midair."

Fred let out a half-hearted chuckle. "She's got a point, Harry. You don't want Malfoy to think he scared you off."

Harry groaned but took a bite of toast.

"You're going to crush them," Victoria added, her tone firm. "You've got the best team out there. Slytherin doesn't stand a chance."

"That's easy for you to say," Angelina muttered, running a hand through her hair. "You don't have to dodge Bludgers."

"No, but I'll be in the stands screaming my head off," Victoria said with a small smile. "You've got this, all of you."

Fred leaned over and nudged her shoulder. "When did you become our motivational coach?"

"Since you started looking like you're about to face a dragon instead of a Quidditch team," she teased.

Her words seemed to help, as the team visibly relaxed. Fred and George even started cracking jokes again, the tension lifting slightly.

As Victoria watched her friends, her attention was caught by a hushed conversation at the Ravenclaw table nearby. Two older students were leaning toward each other, speaking in low voices, but their words carried just enough for her to hear.

"She'll have to do something about all this when she's queen," one of them said, glancing in Victoria's direction. "If she can't keep it together now, what hope does the wizarding world have?"

Victoria froze, her stomach twisting into knots. She had grown used to whispers about her title, but this felt different. The weight of expectation pressed down on her, heavier than ever. She wasn't even fifteen, and people were already talking about how she'd handle the throne.

The room suddenly felt too bright, too loud. Victoria's chest tightened, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She pushed back from the table, mumbling something about needing air, and hurried out of the Great Hall.

The corridors blurred as she ran, her vision clouded with tears. She barely registered where she was going until she found herself in the girl's bathroom.

Leaning against the sink, Victoria tried to steady her breathing, but the whispers replayed in her mind: If she can't keep it together... what hope does the wizarding world have?

The pressure was unbearable. She gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white, as hot tears streamed down her face.

"I can't do this," she whispered to herself, her voice breaking.

The sound of her own sobbing echoed off the tiled walls, and she felt utterly alone.

Victoria stood there in the bathroom, her face buried in her hands, struggling to catch her breath. The pressure was suffocating. The expectations, the constant reminders that she was more than just a student at Hogwarts, that she was a princess and one day, a queen—it was too much. Her mind raced, spiraling downward, and she couldn't stop it.

"I can't do this," she whispered again, her voice barely a tremor.

Just as she tried to calm herself, the cool air in the room seemed to shift, and her thoughts became more muddled. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, and her legs suddenly felt weak. She stumbled backward, bracing herself against the sink to keep from falling. The world was spinning, and the darkness on the edges of her vision only deepened, threatening to overtake her.

It was as though the room itself was fading away.

Victoria's breath hitched in panic, her chest tightening. She reached out, but her arms were sluggish, and everything felt so far away. Her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears. The fear was too much.

The last thing she heard, just before everything went black, was the faint echo of footsteps—someone coming toward her. And then, silence.

When the sounds of life returned, they came slowly. Victoria's mind was foggy, and her limbs felt heavy, as though she had been frozen in place. But she could no longer feel the weight of her own body.

As her vision cleared, she realized she wasn't in the bathroom anymore. She was lying on the cold stone floor, her body frozen in an unnatural stillness. There was no movement, no sound, just the eerie, silent chill.

A faint sense of panic flared up within her, but it quickly dulled as she realized she could not move, not even a single finger. Her breath caught in her throat, but she couldn't breathe, couldn't speak.

She was petrified.