That Damn Weasley Charm II G.W

Chapter 7- Quidditch

A week has passed since the troll incident. The Slytherin house is still absolutely furious with Dumbledore, but we know he doesn't really give a damn to what we think about him. There is excitement in the air though, as today is the first quidditch match of the season. Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

I leave the dorm for breakfast earlier than everyone else. Everyone else is making big signs in preparation for the game after breakfast, but I'm really not in the mood.

"Violet pst." I whip my head around and George Weasley pokes his head out from behind a broom cupboard door.

A really big smile spreads across my face the moment I see him. I rush over to the cupboard and squeeze in before anyone sees me. "Alright there George?" I say. Our faces are practically touching because this room is so small.

"Feeling a lot better now if I'm being honest." Even in the dark, I can tell his cheeks are the same colour as his hair.

"Ready for the game today?" I ask, the smile on my face somehow grows bigger when he looks at me in the eyes.

"Dunno. Are you going to be there?" He leans back on the wall and looks me up from head to toe.

"I suppose I can swing by for a bit," I say slyly. Even though I was planning on going anyways.

We stand there in silence looking at each other for a long time after that. "Been meaning to ask. How are you feeling after the troll incident?"

I breathe in sharply, the anger I have for Dumbledore bubbling to the surface. "I'm absolutely pissed off about it if I'm being quite honest. Quirrel comes running into the great hall says the troll is in the dungeons. And what does Dumbledore do? Sends the entire Slytherin body back into their dormitory that is located where? In the bloody dungeon!" I say in one breath. George nods his head in agreement.

"I was proper worried about you when he said that. I've been trying to get you alone all week. But our schedules clash so much it's like the whole school was working against me." He chuckles lightly and looks back at me. "I'm relieved you're okay though."

We go silent again, just enjoying the presence of each other. "We better make our way to the great hall," I say in a whisper.

George sighs, "Yeah I guess we should." He reaches for the door nob and I peck his cheek.

"Good luck out there Weasley. Please don't wind up in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey gives me the creeps." I peck him on the cheek one more time before I open the door and slip out into the hallway. By the time I arrive in the great hall, both the Ravenclaw and the Hufflepuff tables are full of students. There are only a few Gryffindors and Slytherins sitting at their tables, the ones who don't take quidditch very seriously. As I sit down, George comes in the room. He winks at me before finding a spot at the Gryffindor table. It's not long before the rest of the school arrive. Emma darts over to me and without saying anything smears green and silver paint on my cheeks. "Oh also," She says before pulling out my house scarf from her shoulder bag and wrapping it around me. Because it's the weekend we aren't forced to wear the school uniform, making it slightly difficult to tell which house you're in. Well no that's a lie. It's quite easy to tell the Slytherins from the rest of the crowd given all of us almost only wear black and dress rather posh.

I'm dressed posh today too. Sporting black, high waisted dress pants with a dark green blouse Aunt Narcissa sent me in the mail not too long ago. I quickly glance over to the Gryffindor table but George seems to be having a serious conversation with the rest of his team.

"Guess what! Adrian actually asked me to be there and support him today! I can't believe it, can you?" Emma says cheerily, she pours herself a bowl of cereal but she doesn't add any milk, just eats it dry. "He even gave me this, look!" she pulls out a fairly large Slytherin quidditch sweater with 'PUCEY' knitted on the back of it. She pulls it on over top of her shirt and smiles big. "Violet it even smells like him here! Smell it!" she shoves her sleeve under my nose.