CHAPTER NINE

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9 | secrets of the darkest arts

𝟿 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟺

HERMIONE RAN TOWARDS Claire from the quidditch stands and threw her arms around the blonde girl, congratulating her for making it to the team.

"You did brilliant, Claire!" Hermione said as she hugged the blonde girl tightly, her book still in her hand. "I'm so proud of you."

Claire beamed brightly, hugging Hermione back with one arm as the other held her broom before she pulled away, narrowing her baby blue eyes at the Head Girl.

"But you weren't really looking, were you?" she said with a hint of tease in her voice.

"I did," Hermione retorted and huffed. "But Malfoy and Black distracted me."

"Ah. Those two," Claire said, scrunching her nose in disgust. "What did they want?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to ask me where Harry is but decided to annoy me along the way."

Both girls turned to exit the pitch with their arms looped around each other when a voice called out, halting them on their tracks.

"Hey, Hawthorne!"

They turned to see a tall boy wearing his Ravenclaw quidditch uniform, a broom in his hand, waving at them. Hermione didn't recognise him in any of her classes which meant he was either a fifth or a sixth-year.

"Yeah?" Claire said, a smile on her face.

"Good game, today. I'll see you in practice." The boy grinned at her and then turned around walking away.

"Who's that?" asked Hermione, watching the boy.

"Oh. That's Jordan Blake. He's Ravenclaw's keeper. Bloody good one at that."

Just as Claire said this, a group of seventh-year girls walked past them, throwing Claire a look before hurrying off the field. Claire stiffened but only just as she immediately relaxed again, smiling at Hermione. But Hermione had caught the look the girls gave. She was familiar with it since her first day at Hogwarts-one that had been thrown at her constantly without missing a day.

A look of pure disdain.

Claire was a pureblood-nowhere near to her as a muggleborn. It made her question why? What had Claire done to receive such a reaction?

She opened her mouth to ask when another voice called out to them.

"Granger, wait up!"

She turned to see another boy, rather large figure and wiry-haired. Something about him was familiar but Hermione couldn't point out what. He wasn't in any of her classes either. She narrowed her eyes when the boy stopped a few feet away from her and Claire.

"Yes?" she said.

The boy grinned and to Hermione's horror, he boldly grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles-shocking Hermione and Claire at the act to what he ought may be a move of flattery. His blue eyes never strayed away from hers as his lips still ghosted her hand. Hermione fought a shudder of revulsion.

"Damian McLaggen," the boy said with a glint in his eyes. "It's a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance."

Bloody hell, a McLaggen.

She snatched her hand from his grip but not before seeing the look of annoyance flashed in his eyes. She fought back the urge to wipe the back of her hand on her skirt.

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