The One That Loved {Book Three in 'The One' Series}

Chapter Three ~ Stab Me in the Front

Chapter Three

Stab Me in the Front

       Knowing something you weren’t supposed to know was hard, as Syrie soon figured out. It had been one month since she’d seen Victoire and Teddy, and somehow had been able to keep quiet. She still didn’t know what to make of it, laying awake long into the night wondering how her two best friends could act so strangely towards each other, so…out of character.

Two weeks prior Syrie had held Quidditch tryouts, being the new captain-Harry had been bursting with pride when she’d told him; she, too was a seeker. Now she walked back from the Quidditch pitch with her good friend Greg Holloway, who was her Keeper; the two were discussing strategies on their way to meet Victoire and Teddy at the lake when Syrie spotted them.

They sat very close, Teddy’s arm casually laid around Victoire’s shoulders. They were laughing, like they were having a wonderful time-without Syrie.

Against her will, Syrie had stopped dead in her tracks; she couldn’t seem to move her feet, paralyzed by surprise and…and jealousy. Syrie didn’t know why, but seeing Victoire and Teddy together made her burn with anger; she wanted to slap Victoire right across her pretty face and scream at Teddy until his ears bled. ‘What is wrong with me?’ she wondered, eyes locked on the couple still ‘Victoire and Teddy are my best friends…I don’t want to hurt them, or yell or anything.’

“Hey, Syrie?” Greg was waving his hand in front of Syrie’s face “Hello-o-o, anyone home?”

Shaking her head slightly, Syrie came crashing back to earth; the world seemed to be spinning in a very unpleasant way, and she didn’t like it. “Sorry Greg, I just-”

“I get it,” he shrugged casually and fiddled with his red and gold Quidditch robes “Do you want to go down?”

Syrie looked at her two best friends for a long time, wondering if she could take it. Something weird was happening to her, and didn’t understand what-this fury wasn’t something Syrie was used to, and it scared her. “No, forget it…they’re much happier without us.”

Turning towards the castle, Syrie trekked up the hill, leaving Victoire and Teddy behind.

           The corridors of Hogwarts were empty as Syrie paced nervously, fiddling with her long knitted sweater. Sunlight fell through the windows all along the corridor, turning her plain white shirt a honey gold; Syrie glanced nervously at her reflection in the glass, wondering why she didn’t spend more time on her appearance.

Narrowing her eyes in a way that made her look a lot like Harry, Syrie judged herself in the dim reflection. Green, almond shaped eyes and pale skin that often looked a little malnourished; a slight figure that barely had the curves that it was supposed to and long, straight black hair that got frizzy when it rained. Sticking her hands out in front of her, Syrie frowned at them, then at her reflection; her nails were bitten to the end, the little silver ring Harry had bought her when she was little beaten up and scratched. The ring grew with her, forever at home on her left pinkie finger; she loved that ring.

“You’re pathetic.” She told her reflection, jumping when a chuckle came from behind her.

“Syrius Potter pathetic?” Teddy smiled and leaned against the archway “I’ll never see the day, not in my lifetime.”

Furrowing her brow, Teddy smiled at how much it made Syrie look like Harry; there was no doubt she was his daughter, right down to the brilliant green eyes that could read Teddy like a book. Both father and daughter thought of Teddy like their favourite novel, and read him so easily it scared him sometimes.