"Didn't know you was into gingers, Malfoy?"
"Shut up Weasley"
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Gemma Weasley shared many similarities with her siblings, the ginger hair, pale skin, freckles and a super sense of humour, yet she was the one that stood out from them all. Even her tw...
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The cold air stung my cheeks as I sprinted across the old wooden bridge, my trainers clattering noisily against the worn path. The sun was beginning to set, casting Hogwarts in a soft golden light, but I barely noticed it. My lungs burned as I pushed myself faster, catching sight of Ron, Hermione, and Harry ahead, their heads bowed in close conversation. I skidded to a stop beside them, bent double, trying to catch my breath.
"Sorry-sorry I'm late," I panted, straightening up and brushing a loose strand of hair out of my face. "I was with Draco."
Ron rolled his eyes but didn't comment, though I noticed the faintest flicker of disapproval on his face. "What's going on?" I asked, looking between the three of them. Something was wrong-the air was heavy with it.
Hermione sighed and glanced at Harry, her voice soft but serious. "We're just explaining to him that it isn't his fault."
Ron crossed his arms, his expression dark. "Yeah, mate, we did everything we could. Nobody can win against that old hag."
"Even Dumbledore didn't see this coming," Hermione added quietly, her voice tinged with a sadness that made my chest tighten.
I frowned, looking at Harry, whose gaze was fixed on the ground. "Harry, if it's anyone's fault, it's ours," I said firmly, stepping closer. "We were the ones who talked you into it."
Ron nodded quickly. "Exactly. We're just as much to blame."
Harry shook his head, his voice quiet but resolute. "Yeah, but I agreed to it. I tried so hard to help, but all it's done is make things worse." He looked up at us then, his green eyes heavy with guilt. "Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. I don't want to play anymore. All it does is make you care too much, and..."
He paused, his voice catching.
"The more you care," he continued finally, "the more you have to lose. So maybe it's just better to lose."
I blinked, startled by the harshness of his words. "...To what?"
Harry's gaze drifted to the horizon, distant and unreadable. "To go it alone."
Before any of us could respond, a sharp "psst" interrupted the moment. I turned, startled, and saw Hagrid standing at the far end of the bridge, waving us over urgently. Without waiting for an explanation, he began walking toward the Forbidden Forest, his massive form moving quickly for someone his size.
We followed reluctantly, exchanging confused glances. "Any idea where he's taking us?" Ron muttered to me under his breath, his brows furrowed in suspicion.
I shrugged, quickening my pace to keep up. "No clue. You?"
"None," he admitted, his voice low.
"Hagrid," Harry called ahead, his tone edged with frustration, "why can't you just tell us?"
