𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the strecromancy

"We drink the poison
our minds pour
and wonder why
we feel so sick."

•

THE FOLLOWING SUNDAY morning would have been great, with the mild weather and surge of power, only if it wasn't for a few reasons -One, Draco was avoiding me. Two, Ron wasn't talking to me and Harry. Three, Hufflepuffs were sporting a Cedric for the win/ Potter and Firegold stinks badge.

I could've live with the second and third reason, but Malfoy avoiding me after that kiss? No way. I was scared and confused and my fucking heart was breaking. Harry wrote the letter to Sirius informing him about the Goblet of Fire.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred for the third time in twenty-four hours; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.

"Magic," I said blandly over my bowl of porridge.

"At least you both are Gryffindors," Katie Bell pointed out. "We have a chance then."

"It's a interschool game, Bell," I said. "House divisions don't matter here. Whether it's me or Harry or Cedric who wins, ultimately it's going to be Hogwarts that wins."

I was glad that Fred and George weren't mad at me. But I knew Ron was mad at Harry. I hadn't seen him since last night before my name got pulled out. And I didn't know if he was mad at me too. I mean, that would be logical, wouldn't it? But everyone else was hyped up about my entry.

Ron walked in and flopped into a seat opposite to me, next to Fred and George.

"Where've you been?" I asked gingerly.

"Oh hello," said Ron. He was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin. Ron buttered a toast as he watched me. "So," he said, "Congratulations."

"What d'you mean, congratulations?" I asked.

There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling: It was more like a grimace.

"Well . . . no one else got across the Age Line," said Ron. "Not even Fred and George. What did you use?"

"Magic," I said again.

"Oh right," said Ron. "I thought Harry might've told me if it was the cloak. . . because it would've covered all three of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"

"Listen," I said, "Harry didn't put his name in that goblet. Someone else must've done it."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What would they do that for?"

"People have been after Harry for years, Ron," I sighed. I drizzled more honey on my porridge. "I don't particularly trust anyone in this castle except a fair few. Besides, with Pettigrew escaped, I'm not sure I trust Karkaroff either. Neither do I trust Moody-"

"And you?" Ron raised his eyebrows. "Did you put your name in?"

I pursed my lips. I didn't want the truth to be out. Yet.

"No," I said in a tone of finality.

Ron raised his eyebrows so high that it had the possibility of disappearing within his hair. But he didn't say anything at all that day. He had been ignoring me too.

The next day, a Monday, things got worse. The Gryffindors still viewed me and Harry as some sort of hero. Ron was still ignoring us. Draco still hadn't addressed to me about the kiss. I didn't know what to do with my life anymore.