Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Seventeen

I eventually joined in, just to get them to stop worrying about me, but it didn't help much.
I'd managed to avoid the dreaded question until we trudged up into the Great Hall, which was when Hermione finally took my hand and asked, "Are you all right?"

I sighed, shrugging. "We'll talk later, okay?" I assured her, departing from the Gryffindors and walking with Mirah to the Slytherin table.

Mirah didn't worry about me much; she'd found that whenever I was upset, it was easier to just let me be until I got over it. But still, it was nice that the others cared enough to ask, even if I didn't feel like talking about it.

Dumbledore started his usual speech once the sorting was done with; I hadn't paid any attention to it.

We ate dinner, and afterward, Dumbledore got up and began speaking again, introducing the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I paid little attention until Professor Dumbledore said, "It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year!"

"You're JOKING!" I heard Fred shout loudly, and nearly everyone in the Great Hal laughed. Even Malfoy smiled.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, smiling appreciatively. He went on to explain how the Triwizard Tournament was held every year until it was discontinued because of the rising death toll, but Hogwarts had received permission to have the tournament once more.

He said that students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will arrive to stay at Hogwarts for the duration of the year, and three champions, one from each school, will be chosen on Halloween to compete in the tournament.

I was beginning to get excited when Dumbledore said that the winner would receive a thousand galleons of prize money; I could really use the money, since my family had become quite poor since Dad stopped working, and they kept taking my savings.

But then Dumbledore explained the age limit; only students seventeen or older could compete.

At this, protests rang out through the great hall, Fred and George's being the loudest.
Dumbledore apologized for the inconvenience, and dismissed us all to bed.

I headed with Mirah into the common room, and we started toward the corridor to our dormitory when I realized that somewhere along the way, I'd lost my scarf. I told Mirah to go on without me, heading back to search for my scarf.

I bumped into Draco just outside of the common room.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, and I shoved away from him, continuing my search without so much as a glance at him.

"What's with the rough attitude?" he called after me, and I whirled to stare at him, shocked to see he genuinely looked confused.

"Seriously?!" I exclaimed, marching up to him angrily. "So you're allowed to say all that stuff and face no consequences, but I can't give you the cold shoulder without offending you?"

"Say what stuff?" Draco asked, frowning.

"On the train, you moron!" I shouted, and he looked confused for a split second before realization dawned, and his eyes slid shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, that," he muttered, and I shook my head in disbelief, turning away and hurrying down the corridor before he could say another word.

When I returned — empty-handed, I might add; my scarf was nowhere to be found — Draco was pacing at the entrance of the common room. He looked up at me when he heard me approach, and he strutted up to me, taking my hand gently.