Slytherin Princess | ✓

thirty-three

I felt as though I were carrying some kind of talisman inside my chest over the following two weeks, a glowing secret that supported me through Umbridge's classes and even made it possible for me to smile blandly as I looked into her horrible bulging eyes. The D.A. and I were resisting her under her very nose, doing the very thing that she and the Ministry most feared, and whenever we were supposed to be reading Wilbert Slinkhard's book during her lessons I dwelled instead on satisfying memories of our most recent meetings, remembering how Longbottom had finally disarmed Granger, how the youngest Creevey brother had mastered the Impediment Jinx after three meetings' hard effort, and how I had produced such a good Reductor Curse that I had reduced the table carrying all the Sneakoscopes to dust.

Granger had unsurprisingly devised a very clever method of communicating the time and date of future meetings. She gave each of the members of the D.A. a fake Galleon with numerals around the edge of the coin displaying the time and date of the next meeting. The coins grew hot when the date changes, so we'd be able to feel them change if we carried them in our pockets; they mimic the numbers on Harry's coin.

As the first Quidditch match of the season, Slytherin versus Gryffindor, drew nearer, the D.A. meetings were put on hold because the Gryffindor Captain insisted on almost daily practices. The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both Gryffindor and Slytherin over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretense of sportsmanship, were determined to see their side's victory.

Though I held the metaphorical tailsman on my chest, another one was actually placed there for the purpose of the upcoming Quidditch match.

"Another bloody pin, Draco Malfoy?"

I had been sitting in my usual armchair, reading a muggle book I had nicked from the library's muggle section, when I heard the sniggers from the surrounding area. Looking up from the pages, I saw Draco handing out crown-shaped badges that read WEASLEY is our King.

"At least it's not insulting," I said as I took the pin.

"Well, it's accompanied by a song I wrote," smirked Draco.

"Merlin, Draco," I said as I read the parchment he handed me. "I mean, the first and last verse are pretty funny, but I don't like the second verse."

"I reckon you'll just have to not sing it with the rest of us for the upcoming game," he said. "I've already made copies of it so all Slytherins can learn it to sing for the upcoming match."

"You better not mess up this game, Draco," I warned. "Your father won't be pleased."

The week coming up to the match, all friendliness I had made with the Gryffindors, in D.A. lessons, quickly dissipated due to friendly competition. Weasley looked absolutely mortified as us Slytherin's would pass. When I muttered, as they passed in the corridors, "Got your bed booked in the hospital wing, Weasley?" he did not laugh, but he turned a delicate shade of green. When Draco imitated Weasley dropping the Quaffle, his ears glowed red and his hands shook so badly that he was likely to drop whatever he was holding at the time too.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold, but I was beyond excited for the first match of the season. Draco had us hold off wearing our new pins until the morning of. I was already in the Hall when Harry and Weasley walked towards the Gryffindor Table, he looked ill. After a few minutes of watching them, Harry turned around and locked eyes with me; I stood up and motioned for Pansy and Blaise to come with me to the Pitch to get good seats. Harry looked down at my chest as my new pin caught the candlelight; his eyes widened and quickly whispered something into Kemper's ear.