𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 | f. weasley

twenty

IT LOOKED LIKE THE END of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Each was so angry with the other that Harry couldn't see how they'd ever make up. Hermione had begun taking recluse in the library making Cassie avoid the place at all costs.

Cassandra, meanwhile, diverted all her attention to recruiting Crookshanks to actually find Scabbers and bring him to her. She knew for a fact the ginger cat had not eaten the rat and Peter had, once again, feigned his death. Therefore, whenever Hermione was busy in the library, Cassie would beckon Crookshanks and send him off trailing the grounds to find the rat.

Ron had been quite devasted with the loss of his rat. Despite all his hatred towards the useless creature, it was still very dear to him. Harry managed to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment by letting him have a go on the firebolt after the team's final practice before the match against Ravenclaw.

According to Fred and George, the practice went brilliantly and they were all certain that tomorrow's match would be in their pocket, especially with Harry and the firebolt on their side. The next morning, Cassie woke up bright and early along with the rest of the team for the match. Her only two friends were playing and she wanted to support them no matter what. And there was also the added bonus of having more time to find Scabbers.

The entire hall was gawking at the Firebolt, few students from different houses coming to view the fine broomstick and possibly try and get a chance to touch it. Cassie couldn't stop beaming on seeing how happy the broom made Harry and the rest of the quidditch team.

While she was making some toast for her and George (both of them having a fond love for lemon marmalade, which Fred found, in his words, repulsive), a familiar cold, drawling voice commented about the broom from behind Cassie.

"Morning Black," Malfoy greeted with a disinterested face.

"Malfoy," Cassie acknowledged. No one knew why the two even bothered to acknowledge one another. Everyone knew they hated each other to the bone, yet there was never a moment that the two crossed each other without acknowledging the other's presence.

"Got plenty of features, doesn't it?" said Malfoy, his eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute – in case you get too near a dementor."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered automatically as if their only function in life was to laugh and snigger at anything that Malfoy uttered about Harry.

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry, "Then it could catch a snitch for you,"

"I also think I saw one in Borgin and Burkes last year, should send a letter to your dear father to order one for you? Certainly, he would be more than welcome to help provide an arm for his son," Cassie smiled, turning around to meet Draco's cold grey eyes. She batted her lashes sickly sweet and turned back to continue to make some toast.

The entire table burst into laughter. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed and he stalked away back to the Slytherin table, where the students hurried around him to verify whether Harry's new broomstick was indeed a firebolt or not.

At quarter to eleven, the team headed to the changing room. Ron and Cassie followed them to the tent, just to wish them luck. Ron watched everyone walk in and then ran to catch a good seat at the stadium, promising to save one for Cassie while she stayed back.

Cassie stood outside the tent, her eyes scouting around the empty patches of the vast grounds in search of the ginger cat, or perhaps even the black dog. Instead, she was only met by a ginger headed boy.

"What are you searching for?" Fred asked, tightening his uniform.

"Aren't you supposed to be entering the pitch right now?" Cassie questioned, trying to evade his interrogation.