human again / hp.

Chapter 88

The fire in the Gryffindor common room crackled softly, the occasional pop sending tiny sparks into the air. I was curled up on one of the worn armchairs, my legs tucked under me as I stared into the flames. The aftertaste of the Quidditch match lingered, a strange mix of exhilaration and bitterness. Gryffindor had won, but it had come at a cost. The Slytherins had been merciless in their taunting, and then there was the fight that had erupted between Harry, George, and Draco. The whole thing felt like a chaotic blur, the echoes of their shouts still ringing in my ears. And now, as I sat there, the weight of what had happened began to settle in.

Hermione sat next to me, though she wasn't really there, not in the way she usually was. Her eyes were on a book, but she wasn't reading. Her brow furrowed slightly, a sure sign that her mind was somewhere else—probably working out how to solve the latest problem, as she always did.

The portrait hole creaked open, and Harry stepped through, looking like he'd been through an entire battle. His messy hair stuck up in every direction, and his expression was tight, like he was trying to hold himself together, but it wasn't working.

"What happened?" Hermione asked immediately, straightening and setting her book aside. She seemed to sense something was wrong before even Harry opened his mouth.

Harry ran a hand through his already-messy hair and exhaled sharply. "I'm banned. For life. From Quidditch."

My stomach dropped, the shock of his words taking a moment to fully register. "What?" I asked, my voice faltering a little despite myself. "You're banned? For life?"

"Yeah," Harry said, his tone clipped. "Umbridge has this new decree—Number whatever it is. She banned me, Fred, and George from playing ever again. Said we were violent and a bad influence on the students."

I felt a wave of anger flood through me. "What the hell? That's ridiculous!"

"Exactly," Harry muttered, pacing in tight circles. "But there's nothing we can do about it. She's got it all set up, and she's enjoying every minute of it."

Hermione's jaw clenched. She hated Umbridge with a passion, and rightfully so. "She's using this as an excuse to control everything," she said, her voice low and cold. "It's not about violence or bad influence. It's just her way of exerting power."

Harry stopped pacing and looked at her, his face grim. "I know. But it's not just me—Fred and George too. The whole team is affected."

Before Hermione could say anything else, the portrait hole swung open again, and in marched Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, and her usually composed face was filled with frustration and anger.

"Is it true?" she demanded, marching straight up to Harry. "You're banned from Quidditch?"

Harry nodded, looking utterly defeated. "Me, Fred, and George. Permanently."

Angelina let out a groan, throwing her hands up in the air. "This is a nightmare! We've barely got a team as it is! And now—this! Who's going to replace you three? Who's going to play Seeker? Chaser? Beater?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "This season is cursed," she muttered under her breath, before storming off toward the staircase, still muttering about practice schedules and the upcoming matches.

Harry slumped into an armchair, looking drained. "Well, that went well," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

Hermione clicked her tongue in frustration. "This is absolutely unfair. Umbridge is a tyrant."

"Tell me something I don't know," Harry said, staring into the fire. His voice was tired, as if he had no more fight left in him.

I sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of it all sinking in. We'd won the match, but what did it matter if it came with this kind of fallout? It felt hollow. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, unsure of what to say or how to make it better.