𝙮𝙤𝙪 || 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭

News traveled fast throughout the school and soon enough almost everybody in your year knew that you had cursed Malfoy.

They either congratulated you for being brave or were already mourning for your impending doom. Malfoy's father had great influence in the wizarding world, which he always uses to his advantage. There wasn't a day where a student wasn't hit with his infamous 'My father will hear about this!' line as his last attempt of threatening them.

But surprisingly enough, you didn't get to see much of Malfoy ever since the incident. You suspect that he's been avoiding you and even entertained the idea that he was scared.

That ought to teach him for messing with Neville.

Harry and Ron were both impressed that you had the nerve to curse Malfoy. They were all too pleased to see him during their Potions with skin slathered in ointment and a permanent, disgruntled frown on his face as they worked. Hermione was the only one disapproving of your accidental cursing, but was nonetheless also impressed that you managed to cast a spell most students struggled with.

For the next few days, the joy of cursing Malfoy died down, replaced with another buzz of excitement as the Quidditch match between your house and Gryffindor was drawing nearer every day.

Oliver was borderline going manic with their training sessions. He was an entirely different person when it came to the sport. He was stern, fierce and became entirely suspicious of any Hufflepuff who so much as breathe the same air as him. You were no exception.

"Lass, I like you and all," said Oliver while using his arms to cover the diagrams scattered on his table when you approached him in the library. "But what if you tell on the Hufflepuff Captain? I can't have that now."

You didn't believe it when Fred and George mentioned once that Oliver's love for Quidditch was turning into an unhealthy obsession, but with the way he had his team flying through rain and intense heat, you were beginning to grow worried for him and his team's wellbeing.

You rarely see Harry nowadays with his occupation as Gryffindor Seeker, but he was clearly stressed out with his tight schedule. It didn't help that Professor Snape would be the referee for the upcoming match. Ron and Hermione were extremely anxious over this news that they had practiced the Leg-Locker Curse just to be careful.

"He can't hate Harry that much that he became a referee for the match," you said, also practicing the Leg-Locker Curse with them in an empty classroom. "I just hope we don't have to curse a teacher for Harry's safety."

The day before the match, you had run into Cedric Diggory at the barrels. He was just about to exit when you tried to enter, miraculously not having at least three people tailing after him.

"Hi," he greets with a charming smile.

You were so flustered that all you managed to utter was a weak 'good luck during the match!' before running past him and straight to the girls' dormitories, where you began ranting to Fiona (who was the only one present) about his hidden ability to make others speechless with just his looks. She didn't say anything, but had a knowing sort of look on her face as she listened.

The next day, you left Susan and Delilah as they joined the many fangirls of Cedric outside their locker rooms that afternoon. You were just as nervous as Ron and Hermione when you wished the Gryffindor team good luck, despite you being in Hufflepuff.

"Please keep Harry safe," you pleaded the twin Beaters before they went in.

"Don't you worry, girlie," said Fred breezily while patting your head. "We'll make sure Harry's got at least one limb left after the match."