Burned.
Autumn 1995
“One day, we should go on holiday together,” Tessa murmured while dreamily staring out of the arched window at the small green spaces between the walls. “Going on holiday?” I made sure, raising one eyebrow in amusement. The new school year had started, but my best friend’s mind was still on her holiday. She had already raved about her travels with her parents in her letters. “Yes, when we’re done with school, the first thing we should do is enjoy our freedom and not start working right away,” said the blonde enthusiastically and turned her gaze back to the corridor in front of us, which was overrun by many students. “We’d have to graduate first.” I brought her back to reality. We were still in the beginning of the sixth year, so we still had a few lessons to learn. “Well, I am in.” Sophie spoke up and threw her long black hair over her shoulder. Not only did Tessa’s eyes follow the gesture, but also those of several boys leaning against a wall, eyeing the handsome Ravenclaw. Five more minutes, and you could wipe away the puddle from under them. In their minds, they probably stripped our friend down to her underwear. I gently elbowed Tessa in the side, which she just eyed sullenly. “At least one of you two is backing me up.” With a smirk, she put her arm around Sophie’s shoulders, as we turned down another aisle. She didn’t mind Tessa’s closeness and let her do. “Now, am I the bad guy?” I asked in surprise and grimaced. “There must be such as well.” My best friend couldn’t help but laugh and stuck out her tongue. “As long as you don’t put me on the same level as our new teacher, that’s fine with me,” I said dismissively, squinting at the pink figure who was eyeing students disapprovingly a few meters away. Although Umbridge had only introduced herself yesterday in the Great Hall, I had immediately taken a dislike to her. “Can you imagine her teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts?” “This will never go well.” Sophie remarked sharply. Although she possessed a charming personality, she could dish out at the same time. Didn’t happen often, which made it all the more entertaining. I had to chuckle at that comment, as we descended the stairs to the vaulted cellars. “Anyone would be a better teacher than her. Even Snape would be a better fit for that subject.” Tessa added affirmatively. One could almost feel sorry for our tutor, as long as he was already courting this subject. “I appreciate your honesty, Miss Jones. But flattery doesn’t get you a better score, either.” Speaking of the devil. Caught, the young witch looked straight ahead at the door of the room and recognized our tutor. “It’s worth a try,” she replied to the grim face and smiled sweetly. She really had no inhibitions. “You better hurry.” Snape could only roll his eyes and urged us. With quick steps, we passed the archway and entered the gloomy vault. The heavy door slammed shut behind us, and his dark cloak swung past us. Dramatic as ever. “I’ll save the welcome greetings. You all know why you’re taking this subject.” Who had stepped on his robes this morning? The school year had only just begun, but our teacher was already reproaching us, as if it were the end of the year. The perfect greeting for his students, who had achieved top marks in Potions in last year’s exams. “Miss Jones, pass out the books from the closet. The others: What can you tell me about the potion under your nose?” Now Tessa received the punishment for her cheap flattery. With a sight that was too loud, she shuffled over to the piece of furniture against the wall, while the rest of the students moved closer to the table next to Snape. Great, a guessing game from day one. Hopefully, the rest of the year wouldn’t be like that. A black cloak emerged from the crowd, and Sophie bent over the black cauldron. She eyed the pink brew and not a second later her arm flew up, but I could see a spark of wonder on her face. Tessa pushed one of the books into everyone’s hands and finally came to stop next to me. “Here,” she whispered, holding out a book. “You did that on purpose,” I said softly, eyeing the old cover of my worn copy. Hers, on the other hand, was almost new. “Of course,” she chuckled, biting back a laugh. “Miss Decis. It seems, you know the answer.” Snape’s sharp words cut through the air, and every whisper fell silent. I knew when a battle was over, and unlike my friend, I didn’t even try to mess with our professor. In the end, I would get detention on the first day. I pushed past the black robes and stood next to Sophie, who was totally ignored by Snape. Now each of the three of us had received their punishment. The steam rose from the cauldron, and I inhaled the air. The sweetness immediately spread through my airways and caressed my nerve cells. Did Snape give us a Pepper Up Potion? Aren’t we a bit too old for such a simple potion? You never knew what was going on in our professor’s head. Before I could give the wrong answer, the comforting sweetness specified itself to a hint of vanilla. If I didn’t see the old glasses and utensils in front of me, I might as well be standing in a bakery. A small, rustic kitchen, in which a warm-hearted woman baked biscuits and cookies, and the delicious smell spread throughout the house. Like an intense perfume, the scent continued to develop and the smell of black powder was added. The dark substance covered the pale hands like soot and made them appear rougher than they actually were. Finally, in another note, I recognized the aromatic branches and resin of conifers surrounded by a crisp winter chill. Two teenagers hid behind the trees while countless snowflakes danced over the red hair. Even though, it was just a smell, a play on the senses, it hit me like a slap in the face. There was no potion that had those specific notes, except, “Amortentia,” I said tersely, looking into my teacher’s dark eyes. My classmates couldn’t help but be amazed, and now crowded to the cauldron to sniff out a scrap of the strongest love potion. A bit taken by surprise, I gladly let them go first and rejoined Tessa and Sophie in the last row. “Very good, Miss Decis.” His praise sounded like punishment. “But don’t get your hopes up. We’re not going to make such a lie in this class.” Snape didn’t seem convinced of the potion’s validity, which didn’t surprise me. What could he smell in it? “For the first lesson, everyone prepares the Draught of Living Death.” A loud sigh went through the crowd, and the eager ones finally let go of the pink brew. Everyone spread out at the tables and began their work. I put the worn book down on the wood and opened it, to my amazement to find that someone had scribbled their notes on the paper. I skimmed over some of the first few pages. Either the potions recipes had been altered or messages that clearly belonged in other subjects were smeared to the margins. Curious, I flipped back to the first page:
This book belongs to the Half-Blood Prince. I had to suppress a smile. Who came up with such a cheesy name? Probably a former student who preferred to hide his head in dreams than in reality. Hopefully his notes weren’t just daydreams. “Well, who did you smell?” Tessa leaned over and gave me a knowing twitch of her eyebrows. Surprised, I turned to the actual page I needed for the potion. If Snape noticed that I wasn’t doing my chores and had a book full of tips and solutions, then I wouldn’t benefit from the gift for long. “Nothing in particular,” I waved off and put the vermouth in a cauldron, so that I could make a brew from it. “Oh, come on. As if you don’t know who I mean. Or should I say his name out loud here?” My best friend couldn’t help but grin mischievously. “Are you starting that again?” I whispered annoyed. I reached for the asphodel root and took a small knife from a drawer. My mind immediately swam over the comments she’d nagged me with before the Yule Ball and for several weeks afterward. “Your reaction speaks a thousand words.” She wrinkled her nose in amusement and stirred the brew in her cauldron. My face, on the other hand, resembled monotony. Of course, I didn’t feel like listening to last Christmas’s sequel. I hated to admit that Tessa was right. Amortentia didn’t lie. Those smells definitely reminded me of George. The Burrow gifted with the sweetest cookies thanks to Molly; the fireworks that had become the twins’ trademark; and the pines where George and I hid in when Blaise sent Filch after us. All of these were memories that clearly screamed the name George. All that was missing was a large sign with his name on it. Like a finger in a wound, this smell courted my mind, which spoke for the effect of the potion. At the same time, I was dying to believe Snape’s words: A lie. “I can crush your hopes right away. It was just a smell, nothing more. No love or anything like that.” With a little too much pressure in my hands, I chopped up the root and then put the pieces in the cauldron. Why has Tessa had to be all about love lately? I knew she was in love, and I was happy for her, too – but she didn’t have to be constantly bugging me about it. If she had her way, George and I would have got together after the Yule Ball and have been a happy couple ever since. The only problem with it: George and I. There was no George and I. At least not by her definition. At most a George and I, as it has been for the last few years: as friends. No more, no less. I put the unusual closeness between us down to the Yule Ball and promised myself to leave it at that day. Luckily, I didn’t have to put that promise to the test over the summer holidays as the Weasleys were busy on a secret project involving Harry, among other things. It had been the perfect chance to realize that everything was fine right now. In the end, that childish thought of being in love would turn everything upside down and make something funny out of our friendship. Why should I want to destroy something beautiful? I thoughtfully watched the blue steam rising from my cauldron.
“Sometimes you stand in the way of your own happiness,” Tessa mumbled casually, collecting a sleeping bean. I did the same and fished one out of the bowl next to us. I placed the knife horizontally on the bean and hit the metal, opening the bean slightly and making it easier to extract the juice. So far, what was added in the book by the boy made sense. I squeezed the bean over my kettle and then added the valerian root. My anti-clockwise stirring lightened the blackberry-like hue to lilac. “That’s your opinion, not mine.” I glanced over at her and watched her struggle with her sleeping bean. “I think it’s really sweet of you that you care so much about my happiness in love, but his friendship is valuable enough,” I said in a more subdued voice, trying to convince Tessa of my true opinion before this meaningless nothingness turned into an argument. I stumbled upon another Half-Blood Prince buff that told me to only rotate counterclockwise seven times and with the clockwise direction once. The lilac turned pink, similar to the Amortentia, and finally became crystal clear as water. “I see.” My best friend nodded softly, accepting my answer. Whether she satisfied them was another question. “Because you had to hand out the books, you missed Sophie’s puzzled face when sniffed the potion.” I nudged her side gently to get her mind off things. Well, they weren’t directly other thought, but they slanted from my boring opinion of love to her feelings for Sophie. “What did she smell?” Tessa’s eyes widened, and she almost forgot to stir her potion. “No idea. She didn’t say a word to me.” I shrugged and closed the book, so no one would suspect. “But maybe the smell reminded her of someone she wasn’t thinking of.” I curled my lips into a smile. “You think so?” Her voice gave a little hop that momentarily caught Snape’s eye, but luckily, he was distracted by a puff of smoke brewing from a Ravenclaw. “I don’t know when was the last time I saw such a surprise on her face.” Satisfied, the blonde went back to her magic potion, which was now turning lilac. I couldn’t read minds, but I believed and hoped for Tessa that her wish would come true because the smile didn’t leave her face for the rest of the day.
*
The frost-covered grass crunched under my feet, as I walked down the slope toward the stadium. The icy air nestled against my cheeks, and my breath became apparent in the form of small clouds. The cold would certainly make me look like a red tomato up in the air. After all, there was no wind, and the sky was a pearly white colour, which gave us a perfect view of the field. It was still quiet on the hill, but it wasn’t long before quiet changed to cheers and applause. I had made it a tradition to be alone before a game. I wasn’t even present for the meal in the Great Hall, as I didn’t want to feel like a heavy rock on the broomstick. In addition, I had some peace from my teammates. I was still the only girl on the Slytherin team, and since Tessa wasn’t interested in the sport, I was sure it would be like this for a long time. Perhaps, as captain, I could have got some of my classmates excited about Quidditch, but instead Montague was appointed our new leader. He followed the same pattern as Marcus: tall and fond of playing fouls. Sometimes I felt like I was playing with primates. To top it all off, Vincent Crabbe was the second Beater on our team. I hadn’t played a real game with him yet, but I could imagine that, like the rest of the members, he wasn’t afraid of dirty tricks. With a snort, I walked into the locker room and began to change. As I draped the green cloak around my shoulders, I could hear Malfoy’s laughter from outside. With a sweeping movement, the curtain pushed aside and the rest of the team members entered. Pausing in his laughter, his grey eyes fixed on me. “Oh Livia, here already?” His mischievous grin told me he wasn’t really interested in me. I sat down on one of the wooden benches and pulled the leather gloves over my fingers. Without waiting for an answer from me, they threw their things on the bench and started to change too. Seeing Vincent’s thick neck through all the waving, I knew why I was playing on an empty stomach. “Do you think Weasley will be okay?” Adrian asked, planting his foot on the edge and lacing his shoes tighter. He was one of the few on our team who played fair. The Chaser could hardly mean the twins, so I assumed he was referring to Ron attending Gryffindors this year. “I don’t think so.” Miles Bletchley pursed his lips, as a strand of hair fell across his face. “Never, he's going to get a bruise today.” Montague laughed and straightened up from his crouched position. He glanced at Draco knowingly. “Angelina will think she has a trump card if she knows our line-up. But it won’t do her any good either.” Montague continued. The babble of voices from outside grew louder and louder, so the game soon had to begin. “Just remember that Ron is their biggest weakness today. Then the rest of the game should be a snap.” I rose from my seat and grabbed my broom. It didn’t surprise me that they were targeting Harry’s best friend. He was easily unsettled and would thus make an easy victim. We were already leaving the locker room when Draco put his hand on my shoulder. “I hope you remember that, too.” There was a certain warning in his voice. I looked intently into his eyes. “I can separate my sympathy and my ambition,” I said monotonously. By now, Draco had grown a little taller, towering several inches over me. I made no exceptions with the twins, including their younger brother. “That’s fine then.” He curled his lip in satisfaction and let go of my shoulder. Side by side, we left the changing room and went to our starting position. The loud voiced from the stands reached my ears as something incomprehensible, and at times it seemed like someone was singing, but I didn’t understand the exact words. Almost simultaneously, my teammates reached into their coat pockets and pulled out a small object. They fastened the badges above their chests and placed their broomsticks between their legs. Lucius’s son was still standing next to me, and I took a closer look at the pin. Weasley is our King was written on the crown-shaped badges. Slightly puzzled, my eyes darted up to his face and met my classmate’s steady, confident grin. Before I could ask him anything, the wooden door opened. With enough pressure, we pushed ourselves off the ground and sped up onto the field. What stupid idea had they come up with this time? I made a generous turn and came to a stop at a good height. The supposed singing was drowned out by cheers and whistles, but I assumed it to be in the ranks of Slytherin. I let my gaze wander briefly to the green banner and recognized Tessa’s blond hair. Worried, she had screwed up her face and was pointing to her chest the whole time. What did she mean by that? I had already recognized the badges. I shook my head and let her know I didn’t understand. Madame Hooch’s whistle snapped me out of my conversation, if you could call it that, and I put my weight on the broom, tightening my grip on my racquet. The balls were released, and each player shot across the field. The youngest Weasley-boy went in front of the goal rings and waited for his turn. Harry gained altitude and avoided my Bludger. Like the prodigy, Draco looked for the small golden ball and positioned himself on the field. “And it’s Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years, but she still won’t go out with me-“ The commenter never missed a chance to rave about his classmates. “JORDAN!” Yelled Professor McGonagall. “-just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest – and she’s ducked Warrington, she’s passed Montague, she’s – ouch – been hit from behind by a Bludger from Grabbe.” My teammate didn’t do things by halves. “Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and – nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that’s a Bludger to the head of Montague,” I couldn’t help but chuckle, “He drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet’s away – dodges Warrington, avoids Warrington, dodging a Bludger from Livia Decis. You can burn your hands on the pretty Slytherin, but the twins don’t seem to mind.” Jordan was lucky I was playing the game and couldn’t give him an intimidating look. “Jordan, watch what you say.” The commentator was interrupted by his Head of House. “I only compliment the girls in this school,” the Gryffindor justified. “It’s alright – the crowd are loving this.” McGonagall could already be heard gasping, but Jordan got her first. “And apparently, they sing too. Just listen to them, what’s that they’re singing?” Lee’s voice trailed off, and he gave the singing his full attention. Loud and clear, the sound rang out from the Slytherin stands:
“WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING,
HE CANNOT BLOCK A SINGLE RING,
THAT’S WHY SLYTHERIN ALL SING:
WEASLEY IS OUR KING.
WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN
WEASLEY IS OUR KING.”
“- and Alicia passes back to Angelina!” Jordan shouted, trying to drown out the singing with his words. I hit the Bludger with full force to Harry, who was only able to dodge the ball in time thanks to a curve. His face was consumed with anger. Who was surprised? His best friend just became the laughingstock of the whole school. “Come on now, Angelina – looks like she’s got just the Keeper to beat! SHE SHOOTS – SHE – aaaah…” Miles had parried the shot and threw the Quaffle at Warrington, who zigzagged away with it between Alicia and Katie. Jordan’s supposed attempt weakened as the chanting from the stands grew louder.
“WEASLEY IS OUR KING,
WEASLEY IS OUR KING,
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN
WEASLEY IS OUR KING.”
Like a lone figure, Ron floated back and forth in front of the rings, as Warrington raced towards him. “- and it’s Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal.” I managed to harmonize somewhat with Vincent, and we knocked the two balls out of Warrington’s trajectory. “- he’s out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead –“ The singing gained volume again:
“HE CANNOT BLOCK A SINGLE RING…”
“- so it’s the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley,” ‘More like torture, knowing Ron, “brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team – come on, Ron!” Would my classmates ever have dared to address such a song to the twins? Even they had, they would definitely have taken it easier than their brother. I wasn’t sure Jordan’s words encouraged Ron enough. A roar of joy echoed through the stadium, and not because Ron had pleasantly surprised everyone; for the Weasley had fallen frantically, arms outstretched, but the Quaffle had flown straight through the centre ring. “Slytherin score! So that’s ten-nil to Slytherin – bad luck, Ron.” Nice, bad luck, as he put it. Not content with the triumph, my classmates continued to sing even louder:
“WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE I…”
“- and Gryffindor back in possession, and it’s Katie Ball tanking up the pitch, but Decis’ Bludger hits her in the shoulder –“ cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.
“WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN
WEASLEY IS OUR KING…”
With a steep turn, I flew past Harry, who only had eyes for the game. I didn’t even have to waste a punch on him. “HARRY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Angelina’s screams rushed past me, who was trying to catch up with her Chaser. “GET GOING!” I hadn’t heard her scream like that for a long time. The singing was not just a test for Ron, but for his entire crew. The opposing Seeker sank down to become aware of his actual task.
“WEASLEY IS OUR KING,
WEASLLEY IS OUR KING…”
Draco followed Potter’s example and circled the playing field. He probably didn’t shy away from singing along with his classmates.” – and it’s Warrington again,” yelled Jordan “ who passes to Pucey, Pucey’s off past Spinnet, come on now, Angelina, you can take him – turns out you can’t – but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh, who cares, one of them, anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell – er – drops it, too – so that’s Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he’s off up the pitch, come on now, Gryffindor, block him!” After all these years, Jordan hadn’t lost his passion for the game. “- and Pucey’s dodged Alicia again, and he’s heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!” There was a groan from the lions and applause from the snakes. Again, I took a quick look at my house and saw Pansy directing my classmates. It didn’t surprise me. If Draco couldn’t carry out his plan, his lapdog would do it instead.
“THAT’S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING:
WEASLEY IS OUR KING.”
Two more goals followed for Slytherin. It hadn’t been as easy as it today for a long time. With enough momentum, I swung back and hit the Bludger to take it away from our Chaser. I looked for the second, but my first throw came back after a few seconds. One of the twins swung back and sent the Bludger straight at my face. A second later and I could have given the scar above my eyebrow a twin. A bit taken aback by the sudden attack, I tried to smack the Bludger away, but found that the throw required a lot more strength than usual. As I’ve always said, I didn’t want to get the benefit of a Bludger from the twins of to fly my broom. I drove the red ball to the opposite side of the field. Were they mad at me? “You don’t see that every day, either: the opposing Beaters want to throw themselves off their brooms. The Weasley-Decis-trio is on fire – For sure.” In case Jordan hadn’t noticed, Fred and George were furious. A rarity, actually, but I couldn’t blame them. “-and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she’s past Warrington, she’s heading for goal, come on now, Angelina – GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It’s forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle.” I took advantage of the moment of glee and sent Potter a Bludger. Although the ball touched him, I couldn’t get him out of his composure. Both Seekers circled the field, still looking for the Snitch. “Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey – Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good – I mean bad – a Bludger from Slytherin’s Livia hits Bell and back is Pucey in possession…”
“WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN.”
Potter fell as if struck by lightning, followed closely by Draco. I followed the Seekers for a moment and recognized the Snitch on our side of the field. Both fought a head-to-head race, and every second could decide the game. The Gryffindor’s excited yell gave me the answer to the exit. Harry pulled his broomstick up and flashed a satisfied grin at the crowd while the small golden ball twirled in his hand. The relief was written all over his face, but he was torn out of his emotion. A Bludger caught the Seeker in the back, sending him flying off his broom. Vincent didn’t want to begrudge him his success. Because of his low altitude, his fall was short-lived, but his back still hit the cold ground. Madam Hooch whistled, and the stands supported her with boos, shouts of anger, but also with derisive laughter. Angelina came to a halt next to Harry and leaned over the fifth year in concern. He let her pull him up while Madame Hooch swooped to Vincent with her broom. Meanwhile, the rest of the players landed on the floor. Draco ended up close to Harry, which couldn’t bode well. I also started my descent. “Saved Weasley’s neck, huh?” I caught Lucius’s son’s words quietly, and I didn’t even have to recognize him to hear his grin. “I’ve never seen a worse Keeper…but then he was born in a bin…did you like my lyrics, Potter?” Me feet trod the icy field, and I picked up my broom. Harry ignored Draco’s words and turned his back on him. His comrades also hit the ground and raised their fists together to celebrate their victory. But one was missing. Ron didn’t join his team and instead went straight back to the locker room. “We wanted to write another couple of verses!” Draco exclaimed as Katie and Alicia hugged Harry. Of course, he couldn’t leave it at that. “But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly – we wanted to sing about his mother, see-“ I stopped in my motion to untie my hair from my braid, as even to me those words had a bitter meaning. Molly was one of the warmest people I knew. How dare this little rat? Angelina gave Draco a deserved disgusted look. “- we couldn’t fit in useless loser either – for his father, you know –“ Draco, do yourself a favour and shut up. I was aware that we belonged to a team, but his words had become so dirty that I was about to insult him myself – same house or not. My gaze went to the twins, who were high-fiving Harry. They realized Draco’s words and stopped what they were doing. That wouldn’t end well. Madame Hooch was still busy with Vincent, so she couldn’t intervene. Both Weasley’s turned to Lucius’ son. “Leave it!” Angelina said, grabbing Fred’s arm. “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, the jumped-up little –“ I could only agree with Angelina: Draco was acting like a little bitchy kid. I thought that he had put those times behind him. “- but you like the Weasley’s, don’t you, Potter?” Draco continued to sneer. Keep your mouth shut! “Draco,” I said sharply. The blond boy gave me a brief look of surprise, as if he’d never considered a teammate might turn against him, but continued his taunting. “Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you? Can’t see how you stand the sink. But I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley’s hovel smells OK –“ Harry grabbed George and held him tight. Never in my life had I seen him so angry. My body tensed, and my gaze went to Fred, who was stopped by Angelina, Alicia and Katie. It took three people to contain the tall wizard halfway while Draco was still laughing outrageously. I had to do something, or it would all end in a huge fight. Of course, right now I’d love to smack Draco myself, but that would only make things worse than they already were. “Draco!” I yelled, but he continued to ignore me. “Or perhaps,” casually resting his broomstick on his shoulder, “you can remember what your mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it –“ Harry’s face fell, and he didn’t even realize how he let go of George. His usually so happy face was filled with anger and wrath, so that now a completely different George was standing in front of us. Both, the Beater and the Gryffindor Seeker, charged at Draco. All eyes were on the three. Before Harry could whip out his wand, he preferred to use the fist, still holding the snitch. With plenty of force, he thrust his hand into Draco’s stomach, who snorted loudly. “Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!”, the girls shrieked. Draco screamed and George kept cursing as he grabbed the boy’s collar. George struck again and again, and Harry did his best to inflict pain on the Slytherin as well. If things went on like this, both of them would be expelled from school. My broomstick and bat fell to the ground, and I stepped past the rest of the players. As if Katie and the rest of the girls could talk sense into them. The closer I got to the three, the more detail I made out of Draco’s face, twisted from the punches. “George. Harry,” I said forcefully as I approached from behind, but no one stopped. “George.” His red cloak flapped with the momentum of his punches that had pulled him into a trance. All his muscles were tense, and he looked like a mad beast. I wanted to smack Draco too, but the stakes were too high. George tried to swing his fist again, but I grabbed his upper arm. “George, please stop.” I huffed, doing my best to stop him. Of course, I was far inferior to the strength in his arms, so he easily slipped out of my grip and hit him again. I wanted to pull him away from Draco, but the rest of his body was superior to me as well. “He’s not worth it,” I sighed. “George, listen to me.” The excitement reverberated in my voice. A whistle sounded, but the Beater and Seeker ignored it. What should a whistle be able to do? This time I wanted to grab both arms, so he couldn’t punch any more, but George was faster than I. His arm swung back, and his bare fist hit me square in the face.
“Shit,” I mumbled, clutching the right side of my face. I sucked in the pain between my lips and staggered back a few steps. As if snapped out of his trance, George stopped punching and peered over his shoulder. Before the anger and rage could drain from his face, and the surprise of him hitting me could spread, someone nearby shouted “Impedimenta!” and the curse knocked Harry onto the ground on his left side. “Livia…” George whispered and wanted to approach me, but he was interrupted by Madame Hooch. “What do you think you’re doing?” the teacher yelled as Harry jumped to his feet. My head was pounding like crazy, but I tried to get an overview of what was happening. Madame Hooch came striding toward us, pipe in one hand, wand in the other. Draco was writhing on the floor, whimpering and moaning like a child, and some blood was running out of his nose. Fred was still being held back by his comrades and George had a swollen lip from the fight while Vincent cackled like a chicken in the background. “I’ve never seen behaviour like that – back up to the castle, the three of you, and straight to your Head of House’s office! Go! Now.” She yelled. Why I had to see Snape now was a mystery to me, but I didn’t want to intensify Hooch’s anger. I blew some strands of hair out of my face, leaving the whimpering Draco behind me. Harry and George caught up to me, and together we marched off the field. “Livia, I …” George’s voice faltered as my monotonous face showed him. “It’s alright,” I said curtly, and waved him off before he could even say anything proper. “Better save that for McGonagall,” I added to avoid further words from him. We silently climbed the hill and reached the entrance hall.
While the two Gryffindors took the stairs up, I went down one floor. Passing the potions room, I soon reached Snape’s office. I knocked on the door and nothing stirred. Before I could knock again, his black cloak came walking down the stairs. His expression betrayed no emotion or any other thought. That couldn’t mean anything good. I silently made room for him, so we could go to his office. Entering behind him, I came into the gloomy room, which was furnished with numerous vessels and glasses. There was no fire burning in the fireplace. My tutor sat down at his desk and gave me a monotonous look. It was the moment before Seamus blew anything up; the calm before the storm. “Since when are you fighting, Miss Decis?” He raised one of his dark eyebrows, and it seemed to me that his pointed nose was staring at me. “I didn’t fight,” I ground out immediately. “I just wanted to stop Potter and George,” I added truthfully. It wasn’t my fault that George suddenly went too far. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a long moment. “I just wanted to stop them from hitting Draco any longer. Why isn’t he down here anyway?” My voice rose, and I took a step toward his desk. “Calm down, Miss Decis.,” Snape admonished. “Mister Malfoy had to see Madame Pomfrey first because of…you know why.” Yes, that suited the little rat. First hand it out and now be pampered with wide eyes. “Am I getting kicked out of school now?” I asked dryly, crossing my arms over my chest. Snape rested his chin on his hands and leaned toward me again. “No,” he said sharply. “Since you didn’t join in with Mister Malfoy’s singing, nor attacked him, it’s not your fault-“ I glanced at him, a little surprised by his words, but he was cut off by a conversation in the hallway. I couldn’t make out what they were talking about, nor even who was talking, but my Head of House gave a tiny sigh and rolled his eyes. Not a second later, Umbridge pushed open the door and strode into Snape’s office in her green tweet coat. That was just missing. She walked past me and joined the edge of the table. Today, she looked particularly like a toad. “Chrm, chrm,” the witch cleared her throat and scanned the office with her eyes. She let us both know that she didn’t like this place and pressed her lips together. “Need any help, Professor Snape?” The curly mop of hair studied his dark eyes. “No.” His voice had gone monotonous again. “I’ve already punished Miss Decis,” he added, watching me. Although he didn’t show anything, he warned me to say even one wrong word. I knew that Umbridge didn’t get any approval from any of her colleagues except Filch, but Snape lied even for me…he must really hate this woman. “And the punishment looks like?” Her sweet smile turned my stomach- “Detention and cleaning my office for a month,” Snape replied. Hopefully that was a lie, too. “Mhh,” Umbridge commented, walking a few steps in his office and then fixing me with her eyes. I looked at her blankly. “Actually, in my position as Grand Inquisitor, I would punish her even more.”, the toad began her speech. Still turning to me, she couldn’t see Snape’s second eye roll. I would love to laugh, but the moment would be completely inappropriate. “Mister Potter and Mister Weasley are banned from Quidditch for life.” Her grin widened and her hand, which held a scroll of parchment, tensed noticeably. My body spasmed. Quidditch ban? Lifetime? This insane woman. Snape glared at me from behind her back, preventing me from saying a wrong word. “Actually, I thought this punishment was fair for you too, because you are acted violently.” She pondered playfully. What? Violent action? “But a familiar voice convinced me to just admonish you.” She took her eyes off me and sauntered past-by. And again: what? “Be assured, if you make one more misstep, your broom will be gone sooner than you think.” She still had that sweet grin, but her choice sharply echoed her warning. I swallowed my words, which were all on the tip of my tongue, and nodded silently. Let her think that she intimidated me. “Have a nice day.” With a firm kick in her gait, she disappeared out the door, leaving Snape and me alone again. My tutor kneaded the bridge of his nose with two fingers and closed his eyes in annoyance. “Better get changed,” he snorted. A little puzzled, I moved from my stand and went to the door. I paused before I turned the doorknob. “Thanks,” I said curtly. “You know why-“ I never expected Snape to save me from worse. “Go to lunch before I change my mind,” he acknowledged curtly. I nodded silently and stepped out of his office. I closed the door carefully and headed down the hall. There was no sign of the toad far and wide. While I should be glad to have been spared Umbridge’s punishment, her visit had left a bitter taste. How could she forbid them both to play Quidditch? I could see in her eyes how much it bothered and irritated her, when she couldn’t give me that punishment. A familiar voice, I mimed in my mind. Who could there be, besides Fudge, holding her so tight?
“There you are.” Before I could even take a step towards the stairs, my whole body spasmed. It couldn’t all be true… A tall figure emerged from the dim light of the torches. His suit was as accurate as ever, and his grey eyes, which matched mine, fixed me with a serious look. “What gives me the honour?” I raised my eyebrows in wonder, watching every step my father took towards me. “Shouldn’t you be a little more grateful to me? I’ve persuaded Dolores to ban you from Quidditch for life.” He stopped in front of me and looked me up and down with a penetrating gaze. What did he want to hear now? “Thanks?” I asked, clearly unenthusiastic. Did he want a price for his words? I crossed my arms across my chest and leaned against the cool wall behind me. “Besides, I watched your game.” I felt a lot more uncomfortable when I heard that. The idea that he had been watching from the first minute without me knowing it. “You didn’t mean to sing with your teammates?” He arched one of his brown brows, and his eyes narrowed. “You know I have a terrible singing voice,” I dismissed, amused. I lied to his face without hesitation. This didn’t feel like a normal father-daughter conversation. I wanted to give him as little attack surface as possible. “And yet, the game ended badly for you.” His large hand cupped my chin, and he studied my face. Like a rare artefact, he turned my head in the torchlight to study my injury. I didn’t know what I looked like; whether I had a black eye or a red cast. He pressed the limbs of his finger to my chin, forcing me to look directly at him. “Of course, I would have been happy if Slytherin had won the game, but you also have to be able to lose.” His voice waved slightly. Was he trying to tell me that enjoying the game was gain enough? How old was I? Five? “What really bothers me,” His voice sharpened, “Is the fact that you’re beating your teammates.” I tried to twist my face out of his grip, but it took a moment for him to let go. “I’m supposed to have betrayed them?” What kind of pointless accusation was that? “Don’t play stupid! While your teammate is getting beat up, you run to this Potter and the Weasley son. Don’t you have a shred of decency?” Warning, he pointed to me with his index finger. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I told Draco to stop. What is my fault if he doesn’t shut up?” My gaze became more inquiring, and now it seemed to me that our eyes were at war. “Yet you didn’t help your teammate and member of your house. Instead, you help this scumbag, who then did what? Hit you.” He wanted to roll his eyes in contempt, but I forestalled him. “Don’t call him that! It was an accident, that’s all.” Did he need glasses now? I was fed up with his constant insults. “Only you think so. You know, I can give Arthur Weasley hell for that at the Ministry. His violent son is beating my poor daughter.” His lips pouted playfully. “Then you’re no better than that little rat, Draco.” I said annoyed. I waited for his answer, but action followed instead. Before I could realize it, he reached out with the palm of his hand and slapped me across the face. A soft bang echoed through the corridors, but nobody was around who could have seen or heard this deed. My cheek burned, and the pain lingered on my skin. I touched the spot in shock and felt the side of my face pucker. I was used to a lot from my father: the warning looks, the harsh sermons. But that? I was so surprised by his gesture that I couldn’t get a word out. “You don’t talk to me like that, do you understand?” His grey eyes examined me. “I don’t care what you think of Draco, but you go into the Great Hall now and kindly apologized for your lack of support. And if you’re still that confident in your own opinion, then Arthur Weasley will be fired from his job and his kids kicked out of school faster than you can imagine.” Any kindness had drained from his words, and he might as well have could be a stranger speaking these words to me. As if snapped out of trance, he pulled his pocket watch out of his robes and gave it a distant look. “It’s blackmail,” I muttered while my hand still gripped my throbbing cheek. He brushed an invisible speck of dust from the dark fabric and turned to go. He left me there like an uninteresting toy. “You don’t want to understand it any other way.”, he said, and turned his back on me. “I send my love to your mother from you.” He glanced over his shoulder one last time and then climbed the stairs. He was gone.
I clenched my teeth angrily to keep from completely losing control. I felt like kicking myself, I was so angry and uncomprehending. My fingers formed into fits and then relaxed again. The leather on my hands squeaked. I hated him sometimes so much it was beyond my imagination. Is that why he hit his own daughter? He and his fucking honour. I pressed my fingernails into the leather over the heels of my hands and bit my lip. I could have cried out in anger, but I didn’t want to put myself through that disgrace at school. A first year emerged from one of the hallways, his face adorned with typical innocence. Wide-eyed, he looked at my green coat and then in my face. “What are you looking at so stupid?” I snapped at him. Suddenly the yellow of his tie became a lot more interesting, and he ran up the stairs. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed deeply in and out. I wanted to ignore my father’s order. But there was too much at stake. Arthur’s job at the Ministry; the stay of the entire Weasley family at this school. I had to look past my pride, which my father seemed to only trample on. Eventually I would get my chance and take revenge on the little rat. At one point, I was the one laughing. I said the words to myself hundreds of times on my way to my dorm, so I didn’t suddenly stop myself from my idea. Luckily, all the students were in the Great Hall, probably enjoying their lunch and talking about the past game. Had I met any of them here, it would have ended up worse than the little boy down the hall. I threw my gear in my chest and changed into my uniform. The weight of the leather amour fell off me, but the white blouse felt completely wrong on me. With firm movements, I tied my hair and combed my curls. Even if I didn’t feel that way, I had to look accurate. Always keep up appearances. I stood in front of the large mirror and examined my face. The right side of my face was adorned with a slight blush. I couldn’t even tell where George’s punch began and my father’s slap in the face ended. I carefully ran my finger over my cheek and, looking closer, saw a scratch under my eye. My father’s ring had also left its mark on my face. He looked at me like he didn’t feel sorry for me at all. I exhaled audibly and tried to form a smile with my lips. It wasn’t my real laugh, of course, but Draco would probably never see that either. I wanted to get this thing over with as quickly as possible, before I started doubting myself. With quick steps, I left the common room and climbed the stairs. Already here I could hear the loud murmuring from the Great Hall, which gave me a bitter beige taste. It was not for nothing that my father chose this place. He wanted as many students as possible to know how I apologized to the blond boy. Every step I took towards the hall felt more cramped. A burden I had to pull behind me even though it wasn’t mine. I loosened my fingers and went through the tall door. Though the murmuring continued, many pairs of eyes were on me as I entered the hall. Reflexively, I scanned the tables and could actually see George and his brother sitting with the Gryffindors. There was no trace of Harry. Both were deep in conversation and gesturing wildly with their arms. I could still see the frustration on their faces, which they rightly possessed. A small spark inside me had hoped that Draco wasn’t in the hall; that he might still be sitting with Madame Pomfrey getting doctored. But my hope was useless to me. I recognized the blond mop at the Slytherin table, grimacing angrily. A band-aid was stuck to the bridge of his nose and his wrist was wrapped in a bandage. With forced steps, I walked over to my table and approached his group. “Oh, look who’s honouring us,” roared Vincent, stuffing a potato into his mouth. Draco turned away from Blaise and squinted up at me. I hardly would have thought it’s possible, but his expression could actually look even more angry than I was used to. “Well, did Snape give you a good beating like the Weasley did?” Gregory now laughed. A trickle of brown sauce ran down the corner of his mouth. I just glared at both of them and sat down on the bench. There was no sign of Tessa anywhere. I was alone, and yet I had to get this thing over with. Had Snape been here, he would have slapped Gregory with his book, like he always did with homework. “What do you want, Decis?” Draco’s grey eyes looked at me disparagingly, and his gaze darted to my cheek for a brief moment, where the scratch was showing. It took a moment for my jaw to relay. I just had to make it quick and painless. “I,” I cleared my throat, “I wanted to apologize to you,” I said curtly, speaking at such a volume that only Draco and his comrades could hear. “Excuse you? Am I misheard?” Vincent joked, waving his fork around. Draco raised an eyebrow, unperturbed, and didn’t seem to believe a word I said. Blaise didn’t move a muscle, but he seemed to enjoy what I did. Waiting, he shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “I’m sorry, that-“ I began, but Gregory cut me off. “Listen up everyone: Livia has something to say.”, he called loudly and the overwhelming murmur suddenly stooped. Even though my back was turned to my classmates, I knew that every pair of eyes was on me. I pressed my lips together to avoid jumping straight at Gregory’s neck. Blaise snorted in amusement, but he never took his dark eyes off me. I rested my fists on my thighs, so no one would see me digging my nails into the heels of my hands. “I want to apologize to Draco for my behaviour on the field,” I ground out loudly from behind my lips. Draco’s face was monotonous, and I couldn’t tell if my apology gave him satisfaction, or if he found me even more repulsive than he already was. “And why?” Vincent prodded, grabbing a chicken wing with his sausage fingers. “It was wrong of me not to help Draco. I have tested the companionship of my house. We are a team and should support each other. I’m sorry, I was so careless.” I couldn’t form my lips into a smile, so wrong were those words in my eyes. “See, Draco, she’s come to her senses.” Vincent wiped his greasy hands on a napkin. “She doesn’t seem to love George that much after apologizing to you.” Gregory agreed with his friend. Draco was still looking at me appraisingly, and it almost seemed to me that he couldn’t find the words. What was he thinking? The hall was still quiet and everyone waited to see what would happen next. Blaise elbowed Draco lightly in the ribs, and he just glared at the handsome Slytherin. Blaise had certainly hit him in a spot that had suffered from George’s punches. “At least you see your mistake.” A sneer graced his face. What else should I have expected? Draco wanted to show everyone that he was holding my leash at that moment. Next time, I was the one to smack him. Soft murmurs echoed through the hall, and every table now had a new topic of conversation. “You can be quite tame, Liv-“ Gregory wanted to continue exploiting my weakness, but I didn’t give him that chance. I stepped on his foot, and suddenly, he cursed and dropped the fork. I had done my job and apologized to Draco. “What are you thinking of?” the plump boy coughed. “Don’t choke, Goyle,” I snapped, getting up from my seat. Blaise had to bite back a smirk and instead turned the glass in his hands. I looked one last time at the blond boy, who was covered in enough bruises. At least he had to take a good beating. I left the hall as quickly as I entered it. I didn’t want to spend the afternoon listening to their stupid babble. Briefly, my gaze went to the Gryffindor Quidditch team, some of whom were deep in conversation again, some of whom were eyeing me. How I wanted to tell them that the apology was a lie. I guess I had to save that for dinner.
With quick steps, I walked through the corridors of Hogwarts. I didn’t have a specific destination, just wanted to be alone for a moment and clear my head. Individual students met in the corners to break Umbridge’s rules. I hardly paid them any attention. They had their reasons for being her, I mine. I squeezed around a corner and entered one of Hogwarts’ countless secret passageways. No one could bother me here, as few even knew of its existence. And since Umbridge was obsessively focused on the places she visited, she would never find me up here. How did I know nobody came here? The remains of botched spells adorned the walls: spots smeared with soot. If the toad knew about this, she would have sent Filch over here to clean the walls long ago. My rapid step slowed down, and I now strolled past the windows. They were fogged by the warmth of the castle, and the cold that pounded on the walls outside. A lifetime ban from playing Quidditch. I could only shake my head in contempt, knowing that no one saw me. This woman had completely lost her mind. She took away one of George’s greatest passions. I knew from day one how happy and alive he felt whizzing through the air with his broom. He was a born Beater, and now he had to relinquish his title. I didn’t want to imagine how stupid he felt being kicked off the team just for that fight. I stopped at a turn and studied one of the patches of soot on the hard stone. This was the first time I tried to use a spell from the book of twins, which was still taboo for younger students. Did he regret what he did? I ran my finger over the black spot, the dark powder now showing on my skin. I should talk to him. First, my apologies for Draco and of course everything that had happened in the last three hours. My feet started to move, and I turned the corner only to see George not a meter away, leaning against the wall. “What are you doing here?” I asked, clearly surprised. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Not even him. “What does it look like?” he murmured, pushing himself off the wall. He had been waiting for me. “And how did you know I was here?” I cleared my throat. He pulled out a piece of parchment and on closer inspection I recognized the Marauder’s Map. “George,” I began slowly, closing the distance between us. “What I said earlier in the Great Hall… I didn’t mean it like that,” I admitted. Would a teacher have given me the same punishment? Certainly not. “I only did it to prevent worse things from happening.” I felt uncomfortable talking about how badly my father had treated me. “Okay,” he said curtly. “You believe me?” I asked in surprise. “That you’re still asking…” He gave me a short laugh. “I will always trust you.” The brown of his eyes began to sparkle. George was the most loyal man I knew. He would blindly follow his loved ones to the ends of the earth. “So, you’re not mad at me?” I asked again, raising my eyebrows. He shook his head. “I’d better ask you that.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, clearly nervous. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, really. I just couldn’t stop thinking about Malfoy’s words, and all I saw was him. Hurting you would be the last thing I could-“ He gestured with his hands, trying to explain himself. “It’s alright,” I said softly, stopping him in his apologies. He put his hands on my shoulders. “Livia, I hit you. Apologizing is the least I should do. Actually, you should hit me in return.” The bad thing was that he really meant his offer. I could punch him here and now, and he would accept it a hundred percent and think it was fair.
“I’m not doing that.” I rolled my eyes and smirked. “Are you really okay?” he assured himself once more and looked at me intently. “Yes, George. It’s really okay.” I punctuated my words, hoping that he would finally stop worrying about this. “I’m relieved.” He sighed and without warning pulled me into a hug. His arms, scarred from Quidditch practice, wrapped themselves around my back, and I could feel a load lift from him. George was one of those people who preferred to use actions rather than words to express their affection. “Please warn me next time you hit me again,” I said into the silence. I just couldn’t resist. His long-jointed fingers wanderer around my waist and began to tickle me in punishment for my words. I began to wriggle back and forth in his embrace with jerky movements in order to break away from him. “George…stop…” I said, trying not to laugh, but the wizard didn’t even think about it. “Georg-“ I couldn’t even get his full name out of my laughter. “Do you…do you want us to be heard?” I continued to laugh. He stopped abruptly and released me from the hug. “Of course, I don’t want to be disturbed,” he said triumphantly. I danced a few steps away from him and adjusted my uniform, which after his action indicated the wrong things. I squinted at him, accompanied by a loud growl coming from my stomach. “Then you should be quiet, too.”, he said warningly, and put a hand in his pocket. A small package appeared, which he held out to me. I closed our distance again and took it. “You don’t eat anything before the game, and your stay in den Great Hall was short-lived.” My appetite had clearly gone after my lie to Draco. I didn’t feel like sitting next to smacking Vincent or Goyle while Draco and Blaise taunted me the whole time. Curios, I unrolled the brown paper and some cookies came out. The wonderful scent of vanilla made my mouth water, and I was visibly happy about Molly’s baking skills. I held George out a bit, but he shook his head. “And how do you feel after Umbridge’s punishment?” I took a bite and my heart skipped a beat, as I tasted the perfect sweetness. George’s lips curled into a thin line. “How am I supposed to feel?” he said dismissively, looking down at his hands. The veins still stood out clearly against the thin skin, and the knuckles stood out white. I swallowed my cookie and clasped one of his with both of my hands. His derogatory look flitted at me, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “If you want, I’ll leave the team. A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved,” I said seriously, looking up into his eyes. If he agreed here and now, I would resign from my team without batting an eyelid. In my opinion, it would only be more than fair. My words made him smile. “No, you stay on your team. Then, from now on, I’ll be your biggest fan.,” he said with conviction. “Plan B, then,” I replied sharply. “Plan B?” His red brow twitched, and he smiled at me unknowingly. “Of course, there is a Plan B. Even if you had agreed with my thirst thought, I would have carried out my second plan.” Whether he wanted me to leave the team or not, no one could sway me from my thought. “I will not let anyone responsible for you losing your position as Beater get away scot-free.” I let go of his hand and braced mine on my hip. “And what do you have in mind?” George was too curious to stop me from explaining. “Umbridge will see that she is not welcome here. You, Fred and I have to be extra creative, so that one prank leads to the next. Of course, Draco will pay for that, too, but you can leave that to me.” It was the perfect chance to choke the vain boy, so that he got his nasty surprise. I’d spoil his confident grin. “Witch,” George teased, his eyes starting to sparkle. “I learned from the masters,” I acknowledged, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed in front of my chest. “Compliments from Livia Decis. Today has got to be my lucky day.” His large body stepped in front of me, and he peered down at me with a confident smile. “You’re just making it sound like I never make any.” I grimaced, causing a curl of my hair to fall across my face. “Nevertheless, they’re rare,” he replied. He didn’t let his words sound like a warning, but more like a challenge. He stretched out his long fingers for my hair and began to wrap the surrounding strand. “The rarer, the more valuable.” I gladly accepted this challenge. I didn’t say no to an exchange of blows because I loved playing with fire. “You twist one’s words in one’s mouth.” He had to smile and pushed the strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers were filled with warmth and tingled on my skin. “One of my talents,” I said confidently, but George’s attention was no longer on my words. With a little too much concern in his brown eyes, his gaze wandered to my cheek, which had taken more than one slap today. Cautiously, as if it might break me, he ran his thumb over the small scratch I had received from my father’s ring. “You know you can tell me anything?” His brow furrowed. “I never questioned it.” I gently punched his chest. George meant well by me. He could crack jokes with me and at the same time discuss the seriousness of life with me. I knew it nagged him that I had that scratch under my eye, and yet he respected my silence. We used to be kids playing pranks together, and now? Now an almost grown man stood in front of me who worried about me. “Next time I’ll turn my cheek.” His voice was dry, and he wouldn’t brook any arguments. His caring was cute. “Next time?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. As if I’d ever let my father lay hands on George or his brother. I’d rather raise my wand against this man.
“Just because I’m graduating this year doesn’t mean you’re going to get rid of me,” he said confidently. In my 7th year, I would be counting the days until I finally got my connection. I like Hogwarts, a lot, but it would be boring without the twins. “I didn’t think of that either.” I confirmed. It was more than just a school friendship that thinned out after graduation. What spell would he propose to me now? That I wouldn’t be able to do without them for long anyway? That they needed someone to support their business? But George said nothing and just looked at me. His brown eyes glittered lazily in the spongy light of the torches, making them appear like glowing coals. He had never looked at me so intensely, at least not with this look. Some of his wavy strands fell on his forehead, and their deep red contrasted perfectly with his fair skin. His cheekbones stood out prominently on his face. His tall figure perfectly matched theirs and gave him additional attractiveness. At that moment, I realized once again that the dreamy twin was no longer standing in front of me, but a young man who radiated a certain effect. Did he still see me as the young girl standing next to them and giggling? I would love to see the world through his eyes for just a minute. We were something, but no longer the two children, that much was certain. His hand was still on my cheek, and I could feel the calluses on his palms from Quidditch and pottering around. Rough but not scratchy. Warm, as if the autumn sun were shining on your face. The silence had surrounded us for a long time now, but I didn’t know what to say. We were now dangerously close, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the intense gaze of the glowing coals. They cast a magical spell over me and made me forget everything for a short time. It was a rarity that my head went blank. “You know we’re breaking Umbridge’s rules right now,” I mumbled, unable to think of anything better. “Have we ever followed any rules?” His voice was amused, and he made my words sound like a joke. Again, he was right. The point went to him. “I won’t blame you if you want to leave.” His voice was a murmur now, but he gave me free choice. What was I actually doing here? That wasn’t my plan. I just wanted to apologize to George, and now I’m leaning here, and I can’t stop looking at him. He gave me the space I was supposed to take, but my feet wouldn’t move an inch from their place, and I let his large torso pin me against the wall. Seconds ticked by, and I realized that my chance was gone, too, but it didn’t bother me. I was too interested in what might happen next. George twisted his mouth knowingly and closed the last distance that lay between our faces. He gently rested his forehead on mine, and I could feel his breath tickling my lips. Please redeem me from my ignorance. Please, George.
It could have been a pivotal moment, but I could hear footsteps and murmurs in the distance. “In the end, we all look and walk past each other.” Fred thought. “Why do we have to meet secretly again?” Tessa asked dismissively. “Because Sophie, George and I have something to tell you.” The other twin, belated. George’s half-open mouth formed into a narrow line, and his eyes alternately fixed on mine. I exhaled deeply and traced the hem of his cloak with my hand. Missed chance. We both knew, we didn’t want to show our friends this picture, so George slowly walked away from me. I closed my eyes for a moment to get a clear thought. I tilted my head toward the corner, motioning for George to follow me. Visibly disappointed, he nodded silently. With a firm stride, I rounded the masonry, followed by George. “There you are. We’ve been looking for you everywhere.” My voice had a strong tone and shouldn’t give any indication of the last few minutes to my friends. “Do you see? I told you so.” Fred bitched, narrowing his eyes at Tessa. “Yeah.” The blond rolled her eyes. I watched her gesture with a smirk, but it wasn’t another second before my eyes landed on her hand. She and Sophie clasped their hands tightly. That was new. While Sophie, caught, turned her face to the windows to cover up her blush, Tessa grinned victoriously at me. Was that why she wasn’t in the Great Hall earlier? Of course, I was happy for my friends, and I was excited to see how Tessa had managed it. But we could also discuss that tonight in our bedchambers. “What does us honour?” I looked up at Fred again, who, thanks to the girls, wasn’t scratched from the fight with Draco. “How do you feel about Umbridge’s classes?” He crossed his arms defiantly across his chest. “You mean Defence Against the Dark Arts? Actually, one of my favourite subjects, but since she’s been teaching it…” I didn’t have to finish my sentence to emphasize my opinion of her. “Harry found a solution.” With a knowing look, Fred glanced at his brother and indirectly urged him to continue. “Harry started a secret group where we practice real defence and not what Umbridge is trying to teach us.” Although their voices were similar, I recognized a certain languor in George’s. “Fred, George and I have joined them, and now we wanted to ask you and Tessa…” Sophie’s face had returned to a normal colour and looked first at her companion and then at me. “Nice idea,” I started thinking out loud. Umbridge’s methods could never even remotely Defence Against the Dark Arts, and ever since Harry reported that Voldemort was walking among the living again, opinions have been divided. I didn’t represent Umbridge’s. I couldn’t say for sure if Voldemort had really returned – there was a weird and surreal flavour to that thought – but the twins and Sophie believed Harry, and I believed them. “But after today’s action, I have the feeling that Slytherin don’t like to be seen at these meetings,” I pointed out. Even if our friends didn’t blame us, the rest of their group didn’t, either. My apology didn’t put myself in a good light, either. Tessa nodded in agreement. There was a brief silence in the secret passage until George stirred next to me. “And if only the three of us practice with you?” We could pass on the knowledge of the group to you.” His voice had risen again, and he didn’t let on. “So, in a weird way, you would still be part of the group,” Sophie agreed. Tessa and I exchanged looks and weighed our choices. Of course, it was a risk to carry out such a venture, but on the other hand this uncertainty was of no use to us if Voldemort should actually strike. “Great.” Fred said to everyone, clapping his hands. “You don’t have to sign everywhere to be part of something,” I confirmed. George gave me a small smile, and Sophie looked dreamily at Tessa. If Harry needed us, then Tessa and I would support the group. “We should return. Not that Umbridge is suspicious any more.” Sophie pulled herself out of her thoughts and gave us a warning face. Together, we walked through the secret passage wile the first snowflakes danced in the air outside. Fred was already in a discussion with Tessa deepened, which I could only follow piecemeal because my mind was occupied with something else: George and me. I wasn’t surprised by the fact that it almost happened. Or that George almost did it. I was surprised at how badly I wanted it. Not a single thought in my head had put up much resistance. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to know how it felt; what it’s like to play with fire and fan it to blazing flames. This chance; it was like an insidious gift that tempted you. A treasure I wanted to possess. I walked silently alongside my friends and tried not to let thoughts show. My outside was monotonous in contrast to my inside that was somersaulting. My entire thought construct, which I had pieced together over the summer that George was one of my closest friends – nothing more, nothing less – collapsed within a few minutes. It was beyond the thoughts of the Yule Ball when I thought I felt an unfamiliar closeness between us. It was clearly more, because I wanted more. I had to admit that I burned myself playing with fire.