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HARRY'S P.O.V.
I sit in the Great Hall, playing with my breakfast. Today is my first Quidditch match, and I'm extremely nervous. Too nervous to even eat.
"Take a bit of toast, mate, go on." Ron says. I look at him, and just shake my head.
"Ron's right, Harry. You're gonna need your strength today." Hermione says.
"I'm not hungry." I argue. I hear (Y/N) sigh from beside me. I look to her, and she's grabbing a piece of toast from the table.
"Harry, open your mouth." She says. I look at her oddly.
"What?" I ask.
"Well, if you're not going to feed yourself, someone has to." She says with a shrug.
"That's dumb." I say, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"Well, if you're not going to open your mouth, I'll just force this piece of bread in."
She shoves the bread in front of my face, but I push it away. We go back and forth a bit, laughing at each other. She manages to put the toast into my mouth as I'm laughing, and she looks at me triumphantly.
"Hah! I have bested Harry Potter with a piece of toast! Victory is mine!" She says. I laugh with her, and take a bite of the toast. Ron and Hermione simply look at us with eyebrows raised. We stare back at them. Hermione shakes her head and sighs.
"You two are so immature." She says disapprovingly.
"Or maybe you're too mature." (Y/N) teases.
"I say the latter." Ron says, taking a bite of his hash brown.
"Good luck today, Potter." A familiar monotone voice says, interrupting our fun moment. We all turn our heads to look at Snape. "Then again, now that you've proven yourself against a troll, little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you. Even if it is against Slytherin."
He looks over all of us one last time, and makes his way to the professor's table. I watch his steps carefully, noticing the limp he has.
"That explains the blood." I say out loud, connecting the dots in my head. My friends look at me weirdly.
