chapter forty-two

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THE DARK MARK





The celebrations continued through the dark of night. The Irish cheered, played music, sang, and danced, their supporters joining in with them. Even Silas could not stop grinning. The Bulgarians, however, were much quieter now than before the game, still reeling from their loss.

Verena, exhausted, was in bed with Daphne across from her. For a few moments, there was silence. Then, Daphne spoke, grabbing the book from Verena's bedside.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Draco's mother gave it to me," Verena replied. "Some poetry book from my mother."

Daphne flipped through some pages, skimming over the poems. Then, she flipped the book to where it marked a page with cursive writing. It was not part of the book; Daphne thought someone had written it in.

"'Suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice,'" Daphne read aloud. "Viktor E. Frankl – whoever that is."

"Hey, Daph," Verena began, sitting up. "What was that look earlier? You know, when the Veela went on the field."

"I – I could ask you the same thing," Daphne said back, nervous.

"I've never seen that look on you before," said Verena. "It almost looked like you were jealous."

"Okay fine," said Daphne. "I was jealous of the girls because they were so pretty."

"No, no, that's not it," said Verena, knowing she was hiding something.

"You looked jealous, too," Daphne said quickly. "Not because the Veela were pretty, but... was it because Draco was staring at them?"

Verena took her pillow, hitting Daphne.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Daphne surrendered, laughing. "I'm sorry. I just assumed... Draco turns nice when you're around."

"He's usually nice," said Verena. "He just puts a mean front for show... If he showed his truer self in front of everyone else, then I'll consider the possibility... "

As the two girls talked, Damien was taking a walk around the campsite with Marcus Flint, whom he had found on the way back to camp. Both had bottles of mead and by the time they were walking back to their tents, they were both a little drunk.

"You know what – what I heard?" Flint slurred.

"Hmm?"

"Viola Richmond wants to get back together with you," said Flint. "Heard it from Pucey. He wanted to go out with her, but she rejected him – said she still liked you."

"Really?" Damien asked. "Are – are you sure?"

"Why not ask her yourself?" said Flint. "I hear something awesome is happening this year at Hogwarts. There's a formal event – you should ask her to be your date."

"How do you know about it?" Damien asked.

"My father," he replied. "But shh – they don't want the news out yet."

Damien thought about Viola Richmond. She may have been his first love so he still had some lingering feelings. But he wasn't sure if getting back with her was a good idea.

"What's that look on your face?" Flint asked. "Do you not want to get back together?"

"I'm conflicted," Damien said with a sigh. "I've met someone new."

"Have you?" said Flint, surprised. "Who?"

"I may be drunk, but not drunk enough to tell you," said Damien. "But she's different... and I think I'm starting to like her."

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