Hogwarts Love Story pt 41

Can we maybe possibly sort of pretend it hasn't taken me a year to update?! I promise I won't do this again, unless, you know, I die. Happy New Year!

Last part, Katie Bell was cursed by the necklace, Harry got overly excited with his accusations, and you had an odd conversation with Draco, in which he told you not to speak to him anymore.

Created by: vulturemonem

Are you ready for...
Our "When Will I Die" Quiz?

  1. What is your age?
  2. What is your gender?
  1. As the leaves in the trees changed slowly from lush green to soft reds and golds and yellows, dropping to the floor in a vast array of autumn colour, the first Gryffindor quidditch match of the year loomed over us. And, despite all else that seemed to be darkened my life, shadowing over all my good moments, I found myself far more worried about beating Slytherin than anything else. For a while, I could forget that Draco was behaving strangely; that Cedric was missing (or worse); that I had a nameless, faceless stranger sending me birthday presents; that Katie Bell was in St Mungo's. All that matter was winning. I wanted to do Harry proud. He'd worked so hard with the team, been the subject of such abuse among our classmates, I didn't want us to let him down at the first hurdle.
  2. Which was why, on a cold November evening, the day before the match, I was outside, frozen to the bone, practising with Ron and Harry. I felt like my fingers were about to fall off, despite the gloves I'd donned for the occasion, and I was sure that I'd need about a gallon of something warm to get the feeling back into my toes when we finished. But after Ron's outburst during training, it seemed more than necessary. I tossed the quaffle hard towards the goalpost, and smiled when Ron blocked my throw...until he dropped the ball. I zipped down to snatch it up before it ruined the pitch down below, and then flew back to where Harry and Ron were glaring fiercely at each other. "I'm hopeless," Ron mumbled. "I can't do this." "Yes, you can," I said firmly, "if you focus. You need to forget about everything else, and think about stopping balls going through hoops. Concentrate." Ron swallowed visibly, but nodded. I wasn't entirely convinced, but Harry suggested that we call it a night, and I readily agreed. It took me nearly an hour to feel warm again, sitting in front of the fire in the common room, quill scratching down a transfiguration essay. Hermione was nowhere to be seen after her argument with Ron in Herbology. From where I'd been standing with Neville, it had sounded like they'd been snapping at each other over the Slug Club. It hadn't been the first time. I was beginning to feel a little lonely, even around my three closest friends. They weren't telling me everything. Dumbledore was teaching Harry about Voldermort's past, and while I was fed bits and pieces, I didn't know everything that Ron and Hermione did. With Ginny's time consumed by Dean, I found myself spending more and more time with Neville and Luna. But it wasn't the same.
  3. I stayed well away from the Golden Trio the following morning, though I felt guilt knot in my stomach when I saw Hermione storm down the Gryffindor table at breakfast, looking furious. Clearly, she and Ron had been arguing about something again. What, I had no idea, but Ron seemed to be in the habit of picking petty fights at current. I twisted my spoon, pushing my cereal around in the bowl with disinterest, feeling distinctly not hungry. From across the table, Neville watched me over the top of his newspaper. "Malfoy isn't playing," Ginny announced, flouncing down beside me. "And that chaser of theirs is off, too." I raised my eyebrows at her. "Malfoy isn't playing? Why?" Ginny shrugged. "He's ill." I kept my mouth shut, but my mind was whirring with thoughts of what Harry had said to me over the summer, about Draco's possible activities. He certainly was acting strangely. He'd been acting strangely since the battle at the Department of Mysteries. But a Death Eater? Draco, a Death Eater? He far from had a heart of gold, but he didn't strike me as Death Eater material, regardless of his familial connections. "Cailey," Neville said, drawing my attention. "You okay?" I shrugged. "I'm fine. Weather looks good, too. Just hope Ron's doing well today." Beside me, Ginny snorted. I turned to her with a questioming expression. "What's happened now?" "Oh, nothing," she snapped, voice dripping with poorly-concealed anger. "We had an argument. He's acting like a twelve year old." All in all, then, I thought, nothing new at all.
  4. The quidditch match seemed to pass in a blur of surprises. First, Zachariah Smith was stood behind the podium, spouting off insults to the Gryffindor team, then the Slytherin chasers were tearing down the pitch, and then Ron had saved one, two, three goals in a row, throwing the quaffle back to us each time, an old rendition of Weasley is Our King ringing out from the Gryffindor supporters. I grinned across at Ginny as the score clicked up, putting us in the lead by a hundred points, much to the chargrin of the Slytherins. As I dived to catch the quaffle after it was knocked out of the hands of the Slytherin chasers, someone whacked hard into the back of my broom. I rolled over, holding on tight, and shot the player a nasty look over my shoulder when I righted myself. He smirked, quaffle tucked under his arm. "No room for the likes of you on a quidditch pitch, Rivers," he sneered. And then a bludger knocked him in the stomach, sending him flying back with an 'oof'. I reclaimed the quaffle, and smiled sweetly. "No room for you, either," I said. It seemed that the team could do no wrong as Ginny, Dean and I scored goal after goal and Ron saved nearly every ball that flew at the hoops. It seemed like barely any time at all had passed when a whoop went up from the stands, and Harry touched down, holding a fluttering golden ball in his hand. I smothered my choking laughter as Ginny flew into Smith, and joined in the group hug my team were partaking in.
  5. It wasn't until I released Harry from a tight hug and happened to look across at the line of Slytherins heading back into the castle that I caught a flash of platinum blond hair weaving through the crowd. Instantly, my smile fell from my face. I hadn't spoken to Draco, following our conversation that night, when he'd all but told me to shove off and leave him alone. I swallowed. The sounds of celebration washed over me, even as Harry grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards the castle. "What's wrong?" he asked in a low voice. I glanced across at him, trying to decide on whether or not to tell him what was going through my mind. "Draco," I said at last. "It's bothering me." "What's bothering you?" "Him. His behaviour. When does he ever drop out of quidditch matches? He's missing meals, he's not with his friends, he's missed classes, he's not doing his homework... What is he doing?" A dark look crossed Harry's face. "The last time I told you what I thought, you barely spoke to me for the rest of the day." I bit my lip. "I know. I'm sorry. But this isn't... There's something going on. I just don't know what." Harry scowled. "It's obvious, Cailey!" "No, you just think it is, because that's what you want to see." "Have you considered that maybe you don't want to see the truth for precisely the opposite reason?" he asked, stopping in the middle of the corridor. I crossed my arms. "What's that supposed to mean?" "You like him. You're friends with him. God knows why, but you are. You go on and on about seeing good in him. You're determined for him to not be the ultimate bad guy. You don't want him to be a Death Eater." My temper, of course, flared right up. I curled my fingers into fists, nails biting into the skin of my palms. "And you DO want him to be a Death Eater! You hate him! You're no more impartial than I am! You don't give anyone you don't kike the benefit of the doubt." Harry curled his lip. "Like who?" "Like Snape. He's saved your life more than once, but you don't trust him. How many times has Remus said that—" "He has blind faith in Dumbledore," Harry said. I raised my eyebrows, and sighed. "Harry, is this really worth falling out over?" He heaved in a deep breath, and let it out through his nose in a huff. "No. No, it's not." He smiled a little, and tugged on the end of my braid, which was most probably in a disastrous state after flying. "Come on. Let's go to this party." I chewed on my lower lip, hesitating. "I'll be back later. Save me a butterbeer." I grinned. Doubt - or maybe just disapproval - flashed through Harry's eyes for a moment, and I expected him to protest, or attempt to persuade me to change my mind. But he didn't. He just agreed to save me a drink, then ducked through the portrait hole.
  6. As I walked through the corridors after where I'd seen the familiar head of platinum blonde hair go, I was moving against the sea of people who were all heading towards the common room to celebrate. Seamus clapped my shoulder, a grin on his face, which I returned half-heartedly. I couldn't get Draco's strange behaviour out of my head. I wondered whether that made me as creepily-obsessed as Harry. But then, at least I wasn't spending my nights stalking him and my every waking hour watching him. I turned the corner I'd seen Draco walk down, and then stopped, frowning. He wasn't there. I was so sure I'd seen him go this way. Had I just imagined it? Had he realised I was trying to catch up to him, and run away because he didn't want to speak to me? I began wandering forwards, scanning the drabbles of people milling around for the elusive Slytherin. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice my cousin until we'd bashed into each other. "Blimey, Rivers," Rebecca gasped, talking a firm step backwards. "Did that bludger knock out your eyes?" I scowled at her, and rolled my eyes. "You clearly didn't notice me, either." Rebecca didn't reply. She was watching me with a calculating expression on her face, eyebrows drawn together slightly, head cocked to one side in deliberation. She had an intense stare, and it made me shift uncomfortably. Being around Rebecca was so...odd. We'd been friends, before she'd revealed herself to be a first-class witch. But this year she'd called truce and told me that we were related, so I really wasn't sure where I stood with her. "What?" I asked eventually, letting a little irritation seep into my voice. I'd given up any hope of trying to find Draco, now. He could have gone anywhere. If he was this determined not to see me, he could probably evade me for weeks. "I need to tell you something," Rebecca said at last. I raised my eyebrows and gestured with a sweep of my hand. "Go ahead." "No. Not now. But meet me tomorrow." I frowned at her. "Where?" "Outside the Ravenclaw common room. I'll let you in. Midnight tomorrow. Don't be late." She turned on her heel, clearly done with the conversation, but I reached out and grabbed her arm lightly. "Rebecca. What's going on?" She looked at me, her expression inscrutable. "I don't know," she said at last. "I really don't know, Cailey."
  7. When I arrived back at the Gryffindor common room, there was a ruckus building inside. Someone was playing music from a very muggle-looking set of speakers, which two third-years were staring at in part awe and part confusion. I spotted Hermione standing in a corner on her own - she and Ron were still barely talking - staring into the throng of people with her eyes glazed over. Just as I was about to make my way towards her, I heard a whooping sound coming from across the room. I glanced over and saw Ron twined so closely with Lavender Brown they looked like they'd been melded together. My eyebrows shot up. Ginny was smirking at them, I noticed, but my gaze went to Hermione. Her jaw was tight, and, before I could push through the people, she'd turned around and fled out of the portrait hole. I glanced back at Ron and Lavender, then walked out behind her, Harry just in front of me. But as I stepped out into the corridor, a hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist. My eyes widened, and I whipped my head round to see Draco looking at me with pleading eyes. I stared at him, and said, "What on earth are you doing?" He dropped his hand. "I need to talk to you." "About what?" I demanded. "You haven't spoken to me for weeks, you've been avoiding me, you—" "Cailey." He swallowed, and almost haunted look in his eyes. "This isn't about me. That– My answer about that hasn't changed. You can't be involved. I can't tell you anything. I can't tell anyone anything." I sucked in a breath, and exhaled heavily. Part of me wanted to snap at him and say no. Part of me wanted to go after Hermione: she was my best friend, and she was upset. But something in Draco's eyes held me still. I pursed my lips, but said, "Fine. What is it?" "You're going to think I'm mad," he began, "and I don't know what it means, but—" He cut himself off, gaze fixing over my shoulder. I looked back and saw Ron and Lavender falling through the portrait hole, Lavender giggling, their hands clasped together. Draco sneered. "Nice jumper, Weasley." Ron's ears went hot with indignation, and I shot Draco a glare, which he pointedly ignored. "Shove it, Malfoy," he muttered. Draco's lip curled up cruelly. "Get lost." Ron scowled at him. "What do you want with Cailey?" he demanded. "What—" "Ron," I said firmly, "leave. I'm capable of speaking for myself." Ron looked between Draco and I for a moment, then shook him head and pulled Lavender away with him.
  8. I turned my attention back to Draco. I was more than ready to crawl into bed and not move for at least ten hours. I was exhausted from homework and quidditch practices and Ron's infuriating behaviour and all the weird things happening this year. "Look, last night, I was- I was out." I raised my eyebrows pointedly at him. "You were out. Really, Draco, I'm fascinated." He shook his head, looking incredibly frustrated. "No, Cailey. It was the middle of the night. I snuck out of the castle. But I saw someone." I rolled my eyes at him. I couldn't help my annoyance. Draco's sudden willingness to talk to me after weeks and weeks made me want to slap him. Especially as I knew it would be a temporary thing. "If you're hear to lament about getting caught out of bed and landing yourself in detention, then—" "Cailey." Draco was looking at me urgently. "This is important. Not to me, but it is to you." I was a little taken aback by how earnest he sounded, so I shut my mouth and nodded. "I was dark, and they had their hood up, so I couldn't see their face. But they spoke to me. They warned me, and told me that I needed to go back to the castle. They were insistent. But—" He sighed. "I can't be sure, but I think I knew him." I made a 'so?' kind of motion with my hands. "Cailey," he said softly, "I think it was Cedric."
  9. *vulturemonem* DUN DUN DUN!! More plot! First off, I am so sorry that the last time I updated was almost exactly a year ago. Huge thanks to @hp4evr for kicking me into gear and giving me the push to get this out. If anyone is still around after so long, thank you so much for reading! xXx

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