❝Give 'em hell kids❞
In which Harry Potter decides he needs the help of a certain troublemaker to make it through his Third Year at Hogwarts.
[The Prisoner of Azkaban - The Deathly Hallows]
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The Problem With School Events
The starry night still loomed overhead as Frankie descended from the sky to the ground. Casting her gaze upwards, she easily spotted Harry amongst the crowd and gave a slight wave. Once the ball had been announced and Erika found out the majority of the school would be staying over Christmas, she had given the okay for the matches to run through, letting them have more matches than ever - at the expense of the players having to endure the wintry air that swirled around them and attacked their fingers and lips. Word about the matches had gotten out even more than prior, the crowds of students now interspersed with Professors like Dumbledore, McGonagall and Sprout - although they never spoke much of it during the day. The games had some of their best playing, with each match being laced with a more jovial atmosphere instead of a tense one. Slytherin had versed Durmstrang, having lost only by a few scores, which meant they had to win against Ravenclaw to get into the finals.
"Nice shots Frankie," Daria waved her bat to catch Frankie's attention.
Frankie smiled, racing towards Draco - who was standing beside her - and enveloping him in a hug, "I've never been more proud, Malfoy,"
Draco beamed at her, scratching the back of his head once she let go, "Thanks, I think I suit Keeper,"
"Suit it? It was made for you, blondie," Daria laughed as she clapped Draco on the back, making him wince slightly, "Did you see the shots he stopped? You might have to come back to Durmstrang with us and keep playing,"
The group laughed along with Daria before a short silence fell over the group. Frankie had become preoccupied with Harry's approaching figure, subtly trying to wave him over. It was one of the first Quidditch matches Harry had seen with Frankie in it since his Triwizard tournament had left him little time to do much else, with Hermione dragging him away from the action to go study before the matches even started.
"Hey, uh, Frankie?" Niklas moved into her view, blocking Harry, "You're coming to the Yule Ball, right?"
"Uh, yeah, heard they hired the Weird Sisters to perform," Frankie nodded, shoving her hands into her back pockets, "Theo seems to think that's a big deal,"
"Yeah, I'm excited." Niklas laughed nervously, rubbing his upper arm, "Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?"
Frankie's heart dropped, shock plastering her face before she could conceal it. She didn't know why the question made her dejected. Niklas had been nice to her since he arrived, and she couldn't deny he was bewitching - and he was tall enough that if they danced, he could, quite literally, sweep her off her feet. But she couldn't force the words 'yes' out of her mouth. He wasn't the attractive she wanted.
