Haunted

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Barnaby  turned his broom in the direction of the goal posts at the sound of the whistle. "Alright, everyone! Our time's up," called Sinclair.

Regretfully, Barnaby followed his teammates back to the ground. The team hoisted their brooms to their shoulders and left the pitch for the changing rooms. "That was the best practice we've had in ages," said Sinclair. "If we keep playing like that, we'll have no problem against Ravenclaw."

He held the flap to the tent open for all his players to pass through, but he held Barnaby back. Once everyone else was inside, he dropped the flap and asked, "What's got into you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're finally playing like the beater I signed on last year. You've flown like crap at practices until today."

"I don't know," said Barnaby. "Guess I've just been in a better mood."

He was feeling much better since the day he met Liz. He spent most of his free time on the Magical Creatures Reserve with her now. It was wonderful to have someone who never got bored of hearing him talk about creatures, and didn't mind spending hours in the dark forest looking for monsters. He also felt his revising was finally beginning to take effect. He hadn't received a single D on last week's homework. Snape accused him of cheating when he handed back Barnaby's potions essay with a large P scrolled at the top. 

"Well, whatever you've done to make yourself all cheerful, keep doing it. With you slamming bludgers down everyone's throats, no one else has a chance at the cup this year." He held up a fist. "I wanna wipe Gryffindor's bloody name off the thing this year."

Barnaby was in an even better mood as he headed back up to the castle. Flying was one of the things that made him happy, and it felt good to finally be doing it well enough to be complimented again. Plus, he'd seen a couple of kneazles playing together on his walk back, and sat down to watch them for a while. It was the cherry on a good-day cupcake. 

It was nearly dark when he arrived at the courtyard. He'd thought the place was abandoned, until he heard someone sniffling in the back corner. In the failing light, he had to get close to see who was pressed against the wall, crying in the shadows.

"Penny?" 

It was Penny, but not as Barnaby had ever seen her before. Her normally tidy braids had chunks of frizzy hair sticking out. Her makeup had mixed with her tears and was running all down her face, and there were dark shadows under her eyes, which were red from crying. 

"Oh, hi Barnaby," she managed to say through her hiccupping breaths. She wiped at her face and tried to regain her composure. "I'm sorry. I know it's silly to be out here crying like this. It's just Bea..." She gave a choking sob and began to cry again. 

Barnaby pulled her in for a hug. He held her tightly as she sobbed, much louder than he would have guessed for a girl of her size. Her tears fell onto the front of his quidditch robes as he rubbed her back, swaying a little. 

It took a while, but she was finally able to calm down enough to breathe normally again. She pushed him back gently, and he let her go. 

"Thank you, Barnaby. I guess I needed a hug. I took a calming draught earlier, but it must have worn off."

"Are you okay?" He gave her the sleeve of his robes so she could wipe her face. 

"Not really," she admitted. "I've been spending as much time with Bea as I can. Talking to her, you know. Letting her know we would get her out soon. I've even been skipping class. My marks have never been so low."

Barnaby remembered noticing that Penny had been absent during a few of their Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. He just assumed she'd been sick due to cold season. 

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