JUST A MUDBLOOD, draco malfoy

thirty-five

Y/n's POV

The weather continues to rain down as the Quidditch Game progresses; Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff. I was somewhat nervous, given that both Harry and Aiden were playing along with multiple classmates and fellow Gryffindor's.

Shouts were erupting from both houses—each teams audience going wild, showing off their team spirit.

"Go, Harry!" Both Hermione and I scream as he flies past.

As lightning hits, a Gryffindor girl is thrown off her broom, landing pretty hard on the ground, thankfully she was quickly escorted off the pitch—Madam Pomfrey's got her work cut out.

Both seekers, Harry and Cedric, fly off high into the clouds; out of sight. As cold as it was, my palms had begun sweating.

I turn my attention back to the game in front of me, watching as Aiden hits a Bludger directly at one of the Weasley twins. I guess he likes the bat I picked out.

"Go, go, Gryffindor. Go, go, Gryffindor!" We all begin chanting as Gryffindor gains possession of the Quaffle, scoring yet another goal for our house.

Everything seemed to be going relatively smooth, that was until Hufflepuff's Seeker, Cedric Diggory came flying off his broom. Aiden quickly flies into action, dropping his bat, and bolting in the direction of his best friend. I let out a shaky breath as Aiden catches the injured boy.

The game continues to progress, even though, half the players were injured and on their way to the Hospital Wing; the benched players taking their positions, gaining little spotlight.

The thought of joining Quidditch next year suddenly crossed my mind, I'd, of course, shoot for the beater position, but even then I wouldn't mind playing as a substitute for the Weasley twins. I guess what's really driving me to participate is the fact that I just want to hit a bludger at Draco, and Quidditch is the only time I can injure someone without getting into trouble.

Looking back up at the sky a small figure came falling down, I try to get a better look, but all the studying I've been doing has really damaged my eyesight. I squint my eyes at whatever it is, gasping once I realise Harry was the one falling.

"Harry!" Both Hermione and I call out.

His movement slows down as Dumbledore casts the charm, allowing him to land on the ground softly. The game was cut short, with the number of injuries the players had subdued, leaving Gryffindor in second place, which most of us weren't pleased with. But all that mattered right now was Harry.

On the way back to the castle, Hermione and Ron began bickering about which way his broom went, whilst I just stare at my feet as I walk a few paces behind them. I felt like I needed to be somewhere.

"Shit," I mumble, eyes widening. I push past my friends, running up towards the castle.

"Y/n, where are you going? We have to look for Harry's broom." Ron speaks up, pointing towards where he thought the broom might've ended up.

"Check the Whomping Willow," I suggest before turning around and running up the steps to my destination.

As I approach the entrance of the classroom, I exhale, relieved that I was on time. I swing the door open, stepping inside. I abruptly stop making eye-contact with the devil himself.