The Last Black (Hermione Granger x Male Reader) Vol.2

CHAPTER TWELVE: The Shrieking Shack

"Are you really going to eat all that?" Bridgett asked, sticking her nose up at the mountain of bacon and sausages which I had piled onto my plate. The morning after my meeting with Dumbledore I had found two brand new badges rested on my bedside table, along with a small, sealed envelope. Every single one had been exchanged and were now made out of steel rather than silver. This meant I could spend time with Bridgett without feeling nauseous. She had been a little mad at me at first since I hadn't spoken to her, but I just passed it off as being unwell. Bridgett wasn't a stupid girl; she definitely knew something was up, but thankfully she let it slide.

"I am going to eat all of it," I replied bluntly with a mouthful of sausage, "I'm starving." She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the baked beans on her plate.

"How was detention with Umbridge last night?" she then asked, scraping the last of her beans onto her fork and shoving them into her mouth.

"Fine," I lied.

It had been the exact same as every other night. Thankfully I'd managed to cover up the cuts on the back of my hand by pulling down my jumper sleeve or sticking my hand into the pocket of my trousers. Harry and I shared detention with each other each night, and it had become almost a tradition now that we'd take the longest route back to Gryffindor Tower so that we could chat. By the sounds of things, Hermione had become a lot more distant from her friends and was spending more time than usual in the library. I tried my hardest not to care though. Perhaps if she hadn't had been so needy then she wouldn't be so sad right now. The only good thing to come out of Umbridge's detentions was not having to go to prefect duties. This meant I had a viable excuse to miss patrolling with Granger. I knew I'd have to find a new excuse for the next one, because I wasn't going.

"What about the Quidditch try-outs then?" Bridgett then asked whilst she put her knife and fork together on top of her empty plate, "you still want me to try out for beater?" I was still shovelling bacon and sausages into my mouth.

"YES," I exclaimed, causing a little piece of sausage to fly out of my full mouth.

"Honestly Black!" Bridgett laughed, "you're eating like an animal!" I choked at her words and swallowed the food in my mouth.

"Sorry," I apologised politely, "but yes please, I think you'd do good."

I wasn't holding try-outs for every position. Some team captains did this. Roger Davies for example was making all of his team try out for their positions again. I didn't have the time, nor the effort, for this though. Instead, I was holding try-outs for beaters only. The list of potential beaters was almost endless. Every single Slytherin who wasn't already on the quidditch team was trying out, even my cousins Daphne and Astoria.

***

By ten o'clock I was stood in my quidditch uniform along with my teammates, looking out over the group who were trying out for the position of beater. I'd been successful in persuading Bridgett to try-out and now she was stood in the crowd of potential beaters, her hair tied up behind her head and adorned in the spare Slytherin quidditch robes we'd handed out. She looked pretty good in quidditch gear and her platinum locks tied up loosely behind her head in a messy ponytail.

"Right," I began my speech awkwardly, "so basically, we're just going to play a few small games, I'd like you all to pair up and then you will play together." Immediately the crowd began to get into pairs. Bridgett looked at me worriedly, but then Violet Rosier stood next to her with a wide smile on her face. Bridgett rolled her eyes in my direction, causing me to chuckle a little bit. She'd never liked the Slytherin girls in our year; or any of the girls in our year for that matter; in fact, Bridgett didn't like girls at all, except maybe Hermione who she had tolerated.