Hogwarts Love Story pt 39

After not such a long gap, part thirty-nine is out. This one is shorter than usual, as I've cut it before the Hogsmede section of the book. Hopefully the next will be out soon.

Last part, you spied on Draco in the Slytherin compartment, went to DADA where you had a confusing conversation about Cedric with Rebecca Gardener, and went to Potions.

Created by: vulturemonem

  1. I trudged out across the grounds, boots crunching down on the frost-ridden ground, my grip on the cold handle of my broomstick firm. I wasn't entirely sure how I was supposed to throw and catch the Quaffle when I was frozen right through to the core, despite it only being September, but I sucked it up pretty quickly when is we the number of people there. While I suspected that most of them couldn't play Quidditch well to save their lives, if there did turn out to be significant competition, then I'd be damned if I let them cut ahead of me. I'd been on the Quidditch team four years running, and I wasn't about to lose my streak. As Katie Bell has wisely said to Harry the previous night, the bad captains were the ones who just kept playing old faces; it was obvious to anyone that Harry was aiming to be a captain to rival Oliver Wood. The last time I'd seen Oliver had been at the Quidditch World Cup two years ago. I'd told myself that I'd keep in contact with him, but in the end, I hadn't.
  2. A group of first years were already being flown around the pitch, and I had to hold back my snort as I watched them wobble and fall off, almost in synch. I leant against my broom as smiled up at Hermione, who was sitting in the stands. Ron, for whatever reason, was pointedly avoiding my gaze. I decided not to press it. Harry called the next group of people over, and made us fly round the pitch twice. When I touched down beside Ron, I opened my mouth to greet him, but Ron walked off quickly. I frowned. What on earth had his wand in a knot? I rubbed my fingers together to warm them up as Harry weeded out players slowly. "Cailey Rivers, yes?" asked a pretentious voice to my left. I looked across to the wide form beside me, and was less than pleased to see Cormac McLaggen. "Yes," I replied shortly. "We met in old Sluggy's apartment on the train," he said. He reeked pompous. "I remember," I said. "What are you going in for?" "Oh, Keeper." He smirked. "I think I've got a fair chance." I raised my eyebrows at his self-assured attitude. "I wouldn't bet on it. There're some good players here." Cormac's expression darkened. "You mean Weasley?" "I mean the good players here." "You're friends with him?" "I am." "And, ah, Granger?" "Her too." "Think you could"”" But whatever Cormac had to say was promptly cut off by Harry's holler, calling over everybody going in as Chasers. I lifted my broom and inclined my head to Cormac, ignoring his angry expression, I stood with the other Chasers. I scored each ball I shot from the various positions Harry put as in, and, when faced with a fifth-year trying out for Keeper, I put six of seven past him. Harry quickly sent the Keeper away. I'd have been lying through my teeth if I'd said that I wasn't happy when Harry told me that he'd see me at the next practise session.
  3. I tucked my broom under my arm, and dashed across the hard ground to the stands, where Hermione was sitting on her own, shooting Lavender Brown disapproving looks. "You flew really well," Hermione said as I sat down. "Thanks. Rooting for McLaggen?" Hermione made a noise halfway between a snort and a gasp. "No. You should have heard the way he was talking about Ron and Ginny. It was horrible. And he's got such a temper. A third year bashed into his while you were flying and he got so angry..." Hermione trailed off. "No," she said firmly. "I'm rooting for Ron. I just hope he doesn't get off by all these people." "He'll be fine," I assured her. And, fifteen minutes later, Ron saved five shots against Cormac's four. Hermione and I headed down to congratulate him, just as Harry got away from an irate-looking Cormac. Lavender and her friend looked grumpy as they passed us. I had a sneaky suspicion that somebody was harbouring a slight crush on the infamous Weasley King.
  4. The four of us headed back inside, and the golden trio announced their plans to go and visit Hagrid. Before I could agree to go, a hand wrapped around my arm and dragged me to one side. I raised my wand in front of my instinctively, but, as I came face-to-face with Draco, he held a finger to his lips. We were in the shadows, but Ron, closest to us of the three friends, turned and glared at me, apparently noticing my company. I mouthed "˜I'll see you later', but Ron had already turned away. Draco hadn't released his hold on my wrist, and was watching me intently. "What?" I asked wearily. After our interacts so far, I had no idea why he wanted to talk to me now. At least, I presumed he wanted to talk. "I'm sorry about how I acted on the train, Cailey," Draco murmured, leaning back against the stone wall as students from the Quidditch trials filed past us. He looked tired, the evidence of sleepless nights written across his face in the form of dark bags under his eyes. "I'm sure I'll get over it," I replied. Draco looked at me for several long seconds, and then looked down, a small sigh escaping his lips. "Granger was right, you know. You did fly well. I've never really paid attention before. Quidditch matches have always been about beating Gryffindor and showing up Potter. You were just another Chaser." I raised my eyebrows, all at once fully aware of how much taller than I Draco was. He'd grown. "Ok. But you didn't drag me here to talk about my Quidditch abilities." Draco smiled, and shook his head. "No. Look, I– I'm sorry, but you shouldn't be around me anymore." I crossed my arms. "Really? Fascinating. I like breaking the rules." "No, you REALLY shouldn't be around me anymore. I– I'm not the same person I used to be. It's not safe." My expression softened. "Draco, nothing can be that bad. You're sixteen. Your actions are hardly going to change the world, are they?" I'd said something similar at the end of the previous year. The problem was, this time, I wasn't sure whether or not it was true anymore. "That's just the thing. My actions are going to change things. I'm a coward, and I'm choosing the path of a coward. But please, don't get involved." "Draco"”" "Promise me, Cailey." I shook my head. "I can't do that." "Then just stay away from me. Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me." I pulled a face. "And if I don't?" "Please just"”" "No. I care about you, Draco, and if there's something so terrible going on, then I want to help." "You don't know what you're saying," he whispered, drawing a hand across his face. "You don't have a clue what you're asking me. You– This is the problem. As much as I've tried to deny it, as much as I've tried not to, I care about you too. And that is exactly why you need to stay away from me." "No, that's exactly why you need to stop hiding and ask for help. Ask Snape, for god's sake!" "I have to do this on my own. I haven't got a choice. Look, I'll make it easy for you. After today, I won't so much as notice your presence. Don't try to talk to me." "Draco"”" "Please." "Is that what you want me to do, or what somebody else has told you to do?" "It's for your own good that you don't talk to me. Pretend we're not friends. Pretend we never were. Because as soon as Potter works it out - if he hasn't already - you'll want nothing to do with me." He swallowed. "This might be the last time I speak to you. So in advance, I am so sorry." Draco gripped my shoulders and pressed his lips to my forehead, and then disappeared out of the shadows. I wasn't sure whether or not to believe what my eyes had just seen – hopeless tears in Draco Malfoy's eyes.
  5. I awoke on the morning of my birthday to find a pile of wrapped things dropped at the end of my bed. I stood the cards up on my bedside table (I was particularly impressed by the card I was sure Hermione had enchanted herself to sing the tune of Happy Birthday when I touched the bell in the corner) and turned to the final remaining gift. I'd been surprised to find a watch from Remus, wishing me a happy seventeenth birthday, and a neatly-embroidered scarf from Mrs Weasley. I frowned when I prised open the little card attached to the small box, seeing that it had no name signed at the bottom. I was sure I recognised the neat, curvy handwriting from somewhere, but I wasn't sure where. I tore open the wrapping paper, and found a jewellery box, clearly from the muggle world. I stared. Who would buy me jewellery? My parents, perhaps, but I'd already opened a set of books from them. A small, delicate necklace sat inside the box; a silver teardrop with a tiny sapphire set in the middle. I swallowed my surprise, and fingered it carefully. I searched through my cards and the wrapping paper, wondering if I'd missed some clue as to who had given it to me, but found nothing. Hermione's voice snapped me out of my trance. "Happy birthday, Cailey. Have you lost something?" "Thanks," I said, and then explained about the mystery gift. Hermione looked at the box, and tapped it with her wand several times. She handed it back to me with a shrug. "Have you got any secret admirers?" I rolled my eyes. "Please don't take me back to third year. No. And what secret admirer would buy something like this? It's personal." "A sapphire is your birthstone, isn't it?" I nodded. "That's my point. Some random guy wouldn't think about that. I don't understand why somebody wouldn't buy this and not want me to know who they are." "Harry didn't know who gave him the invisibility cloak, remember?" "But Dumbledore could hardly make it public that he was giving his students Christmas presents, could he?" Hermione sat down beside me. "I'll think about who it could be."
  6. As we sat down in the Great Hall to eat breakfast, I tried, as I had since the Quidditch trials, to ignore the foul looks Ron was sending my way. I had no idea what his problem was"”I'd asked him about it, but he'd just stormed off. Ginny rolled her eyes across the table at me. I cracked a smile at the red-head. Ginny had assured me that Ron was merely having a grumpy phase, though exactly why I was the brunt of his anger I didn't know. We left to potions, and I sat down between Ron and Hermione so that I wouldn't be tempted to look over at Harry's textbook. He'd refused to get rid of the Prince's book, and while I found some of the spells hilarious, much to Hermione's annoyance, I couldn't help but feel that Harry had an unfair advantage. Not that I could claim I wouldn't make the most of it if I'd been in his position. Ron's glare was searing into me as Slughorn gave us instructions, and, after the lesson, I could hold it back no longer. "What the hell is your problem?" I snapped, turning to him as Harry and Hermione hurried tactfully ahead. Ron laughed humourlessly. "Oh, nothing. Just your little boyfriend issue. Again." My mouth dropped open. "What 'boyfriend issue'?" "You do realise that your boyfriend isn't dead, don't you? The Prophet said missing, not dead." "I have never - never - claimed that Cedric is dead," I replied, voice trembling with anger. Ron raised his eyebrows at me. "In which case, what's with this cozying up to Malfoy?" I pulled a face, not understanding his logic at all. "I've always been friends with Draco. Nothing has changed. Well, not on my end. He's decided that he can't talk to me anymore, but"”" "He kissed you." "No, he didn't." "I saw him." Ron touched my forehead. "There." I frowned. "Well, yes, but that wasn't 'romantic'. That was friendly, brotherly, whatever you want to call it." "If you say so." "Cedric knows that I have friends, Ronald. And unlike you, he's not a jealous idiot. If you had one ounce of the bravery you pretend you do, you'd admit that this is because Draco is a Slytherin and you've never been able to get over your stupid prejudices!" "Prejudices? I don't need to be prejudiced to see that he's walking in his father's footsteps. When has he ever been even remotely nice to anyone in Gryffindor apart from you?" I was silent, so Ron continued. "Exactly. He's just using you because you're clever and you're friends with Harry." I shook my head wordlessly. "If that were true, why would he suddenly decide that he can never talk to me again?" "I don't know how Malfoy's brain works," Ron spat, "but I've had enough. I don't trust him. And as long as you do, I don't trust you." I felt Ron's words like a slap to the face, and stared at him as he walked away, stalking down the corridor.
  7. *vulturemonem* Originally, this part had the whole Hogsmede escapade included in it, but it was getting too long, so I've cut it. Hopefully it won't be too long before the next part is out, but school starts up again soon, so my schedule will be much busier. Anyway, until next time! xXx

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