Wot In The Harri Potter?

8 - The Ford Anglia

Ron immediately scowls. "If bloody Malfoy is behind it then it can't be anything good."

"Look Ron," Hermione suddenly gasps, jumping up from her seat. "They're coming out!"

I turn to where she is pointing, and sure enough, the Gryffindor team are striding out onto the pitch, clad in maroon and gold robes as they each clasp a broomstick in hand.

"Look, there's Fred, George, Oliver, Angelina, Katie, Ginny- wait- Ginny? Ron stops, eyes bulging. "WHAT THE HELL IS MY LITTLE SISTER DOING ON THE TEAM?!"

"Oh, she must be their new Seeker," Hermione says. "Imagine! A first year too! She must be very good for them to allow her on."

Well, this is all very fine and dandy, but surely this isn't the surprise Draco was talking about?

"Uh oh..." Hermione then says.

Ah. The Slytherin team enter the pitch, each one of them big and burly and towering over the Gryffindors.

And even before Draco steps out from behind Marcus Flint, I know he's going to be there. I mean, I should have seen that one coming.

All three of us hurry down to the pitch, keen to get involved in whatever trouble is occuring between the two warring houses.

"Oi!" Ron bellows, reaching them first. "You better not be picking on my sister, Malfoy!"

Draco just smirks. "On the contrary, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team. I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, you see."

"You?!" Ron gapes, open-mouthed.

"Your little sister?" Draco mimics. The Slytherin team snickers.

"At least Ginny didn't have to buy her way in." Hermione unhelpfully goads. "She got in on pure talent."

Predictably, this does not go down well with Draco who glares venomously in her direction.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!"

Every single Gryffindor, bar Hermione, goes ballistic. My ears are assaulted with screams and shouts, and someone is even wailing. Fred and George go to lunge at Draco, but his team mates stand in front of him to protect him.

Hermione and I just stand and silently observe. We don't see Ron remove his wand, we only hear the loud bang it makes when it backfires.

As we watch him puke up slugs, we both shake our heads in disdain.

What. An. Idiot.

******

"I can't believe you ditched me for Weasley - he tried to hex me!"

Here we go again. I am so bloody sick of being stuck in the middle of this.

"Draco," I try to say as calmly as I don't feel, "you called his best friend a slur - of course he was angry. I would have done exactly the same if I was in his position!"

"But you didn't have to go off with him, you never even stayed to congratulate me!"

"On what? On being a prejudiced pig? Don't look at me like that! If Ron had successfully hexed you then the only person I would be congratulating is him!"

"Why the fuck are you in Slytherin when you are such a Gryffindor lover?! When you shook my hand I thought that meant you were one of us!"

"Oh, so your friendship comes with conditions now?" I spit. "If only I'd known that at the time then I would have never shaken your stupid, bigoted hand in the first place!"

I strop off out of the common room before he can reply, not interested in his excuses for being a shit human being. I'd had enough of them to last me a lifetime.

I've barely walked much further than a corridor when I hear it.

"Come... come to me... let me rip you..."

I whirl around on the spot, my heart racing. What in the...?

"Let me tear you... let me kill you..."

"Draco, if that's you then this is not funny!"

"Huh?"

I whirl back around again to see Blaise standing right behind me. I laugh, relieved. "Oh, so it was you - why would you do that?!"

Blaise holds his hands up. "Girl, I literally have no idea what you are talking about."

"That voice! If it wasnt you then you must have heard it... Didn't you?"

Blaise frowns at me. "What voice?"

"Oh. Never mind," I backtrack at the look on Blaise's face, "I think I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

But I know what I heard.

******