The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the dormitory as we lounged around, discussing our various romantic woes. Natasha's frustration with Teddy was evident in every word she spoke, her agitation matching the chill in the air. Meanwhile, Amy's casual dismissal of men as beasts brought a lighthearted chuckle to the room, her nonchalant demeanor a stark contrast to Natasha's emotional turmoil.
As the conversation unfolded, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at my insides. Natasha's infatuation with Teddy was no secret, and yet here I was, keeping my own secret buried deep within. It felt like a betrayal with every passing moment, but I couldn't bring myself to confess the truth.
"All men are beasts, Natasha," Amelia's words cut through the air, her tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm. But beneath her jest, I sensed a deeper truth, a weariness born of years of disappointment.
"Yeah, well, I've been cynical since I was 6. You get used to it," Amy's casual remark drew a laugh from me, her self-awareness both refreshing and amusing. But as she made her exit, a pang of curiosity tugged at my thoughts. What secrets lay hidden beneath her seemingly carefree facade?
Left alone with Natasha, the weight of her questions bore down on me like a heavy burden. Her innocence and naivety were endearing, but they also served as a painful reminder of the complexities of love and attraction.
"Do you think I am pretty?" Natasha's sudden question caught me off guard, her vulnerability shining through in the dim light of the room. I wanted to reassure her, to banish the doubts that plagued her mind, but my own insecurities held me back.
"What are you talking about? Of course you are," I replied, my words carrying a sincerity that belied my inner turmoil. But as Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, I knew that mere words would not be enough to dispel her doubts.
"Then why do you think Teddy prefers Victoire?" Her question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and insecurities. I wanted to reassure her, to offer words of comfort and support, but the truth lingered just beyond my grasp.
"He doesn't though," I said, my voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. I wanted to believe my own words, to convince myself that Teddy's feelings were purely platonic. But the memory of our stolen moments together lingered in the recesses of my mind, casting doubt on the facade of friendship that we had constructed.
As Natasha's excitement bubbled to the surface, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. Her unwavering belief in the possibility of love was both inspiring and heartbreaking, a reminder of the innocence that I had long since lost.
"You think so?" Natasha's eyes sparkled with excitement, her imagination running wild with the possibility of a love that transcended friendship. I wanted to believe her, to share in her optimism and enthusiasm. But as the memory of Teddy's lips against mine flickered in the recesses of my mind, I knew that some secrets were meant to stay buried.
As we navigated the path to the Quidditch pitch, the crunch of gravel beneath our boots echoed through the crisp autumn air. The vibrant hues of fall adorned the landscape, painting a picturesque scene around us. Despite the beauty of our surroundings, my mind remained clouded with thoughts of the recent kiss shared with Teddy. I tried to shake off the lingering sensation, but it clung to me like a persistent shadow.
We settled onto the bleachers, the wooden seats cool against our backs. The sound of Quidditch practice filled the air, a symphony of shouts and the thud of balls against brooms. On the right side of the pitch, the Hufflepuff team executed precise passes, their movements a testament to hours of dedicated training. Across the field, Adam and his teammates engaged in stretches, their muscles flexing with each movement.
I attempted to focus on the Hufflepuff practice, but my attention kept drifting to Adam, his figure outlined against the backdrop of the setting sun. When he caught me staring, a mischievous glint danced in his eyes, and he offered a playful wink, sending a rush of warmth through me. Hastily, I tore my gaze away, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Natasha's grip on my arm brought me back to reality, her excitement palpable as she pointed out Teddy's approach. Shirtless and confident, he moved with a fluid grace that commanded attention. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, his tattoo peeking out from beneath the fabric of his Quidditch robes. Despite my attempts to quell the flutter of emotions within me, I couldn't deny the pull he exerted.
Natasha's comment about the tattoo broke the tension, and I chuckled nervously, grateful for the diversion. But as Teddy drew nearer, his smile lighting up his face, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for the unresolved tension between us. The memory of our kiss lingered in the air, a silent reminder of the boundary we had crossed.
Conversation flowed effortlessly as Teddy and Niklaus regaled us with tales of Quidditch exploits. Natasha hung on Teddy's every word, her laughter ringing out like music against the backdrop of the practice. I joined in, masking my inner turmoil with light-hearted banter, but beneath the surface, a storm raged within me.
When Teddy suggested a double date at the Three Broomsticks, I hesitated, torn between the desire to spend time with him and the fear of confronting my feelings. Before I could voice my uncertainty, Natasha eagerly accepted, her enthusiasm infectious. As Teddy and Niklaus departed for the pitch, I turned to Natasha, grappling with the tumultuous emotions swirling within me.
