LXXXI. HOT AND COLD
21:12 ─❁────────── 21:79
◁ Ⅱ ▷
❝Oh, a simple complication
Miscommunications lead to fallout❞
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THE NEXT DAY WAS NOT as great as it was last night, and Lucia rather fall asleep in the common room while doing her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework over having to be graced by this ridiculous rubbish.
It really was ridiculous, and she wasn't being dramatic this time; Ron was not only giving Ginny and Dean the cold shoulder but was also treating a hurt and bewildered Hermione with an icy, sneering indifference that made Lucia honestly wanted to punch him in the face and Harry was utterly exhausted in dealing with all of this.
The pair were involuntarily tasked to keep the peace between Ron and Hermione, who not only started bickering, but also lash out on each other. They wouldn't be surprised if either of them was deepened their already dark under-eyes, showing the clear exhaustion of not only school and the upcoming war, but the ongoing silliness that was the drama between a bunch of teens who would do anything but to communicate.
At the end end of the day, it was all without success; finally, Hermione departed for bed in high indignation, and Ron stalked off to the boys' dormitory after swearing angrily at several frightened first years for looking at him.
"I would gladly let Voldemort take me out right now," Harry slumped immediately, head on Lucia's lap once he was sure Ron and Hermione were gone.
Lucia peered over her book, "You mean take you out on a date?"
"That would surely finish me off, wouldn't it?" Harry played along.
"Wait 'till Quidditch practice," reminded Lucia. "That would be a dangerous day,"
"Take me to Voldemort," Harry said dramatically, voice muffled as he hides his face against her clothed stomach. "I can't bear this anymore,"
"Geez louis, Harry, at least bring me with you," joked Lucia, setting down her new romance novel she was reading to pay attention to him ranting.
To their great dismay, Ron's new aggression did not wear off over the next few days. Worse still, it coincided with an even deeper dip in his Keeping skills, which made him still more aggressive, so that during the final Quidditch practice before Saturday's match, he failed to save every single goal the Chasers aimed at him but bellowed at everybody so much that he reduced Demelza Robins to tears.
"There, there," Lucia cooed at Demelza, caressing her hair soothingly as much as she could.
The moment she was reduced too tear, she immediately flew to Lucia, who was on her own broom to watch over the practice as she had predicted that there would be moments that she would have to intervene. Harry didn't blame her though, Lucia's arms were always the best to cry in, for it would make anybody feel safe and secure.
Knowing that Demelza wasn't going to stop crying, Lucia quickly transferred her on her broom and handed Dean the Robins' broom. She quickly flew them down, but when they set their foot on the ground, things were not all for the better.
"You shut up and leave her alone!" shouted Peakes, who was about two-thirds Ron's height, though admittedly carrying a heavy bat.
"ENOUGH!" bellowed Harry, who had seen Ginny glowering in Ron's direction and, remembering her reputation as an accomplished caster of the Bat-Bogey Hex, soared over to intervene before things got out of hand. "Peakes, go and pack up the Bludgers. Demelza, pull yourself together, you played really well today."
"Ginny, can you get her back?" Lucia asked.
"Yeah," Ginny shot another glare at Ron's direction.
While the rest of the team went back to the locker room, Lucia hopped back on her broom and flew furiously to Ron, where Harry was as well. "Get a grip, Ronald Billius Weasley!" she yelled, smacking him continuously..
"Ron..." Harry chose to go through the calm approach, "you're my best mate, but carry on treating the rest of them like this and I'm going to kick you off the team."
They really thought for a moment that Ron might hit them, for a flicker of a second, they could see Ron in the hospital wing already, but then something much worse happened: Ron seemed to sag on his broom; all the fight went out of him and he said, "I resign. I'm pathetic."
"You're not pathetic and you're not resigning!" said Harry fiercely, seizing Ron by the front of his robes. "You can save anything when you're on form, it's a mental problem you've got!"
"You calling me mental?"
"Yeah, maybe I am!"
"Ugh, teen angst," Lucia mumbled.
They glared at each other for a moment, then Ron shook his head wearily. "I know you haven't got any time to find another Keeper, so I'll play tomorrow, but if we lose, and we will, I'm taking myself off the team."
Nothing Harry nor Lucia said made any difference. They tried boosting Ron's confidence all through dinner, but Ron was too busy being grumpy and surly with Hermione to notice. Harry persisted in the common room that evening, but his assertion that the whole team would be devastated if Ron left was somewhat undermined by the fact that the rest of the team was sitting in a huddle in a distant corner, clearly muttering about Ron and casting him nasty looks.
Finally, Harry tried getting angry again in the hope of provoking Ron into a defiant, and hopefully goal-saving, attitude, but this strategy did not appear to work any better than encouragement; Ron went to bed as dejected and hopeless as ever.
"We're doom," said Harry, whining is dismay as Lucia sat on the bay window of the common room, embroidering.
"It's a fifty-fifty chance, don't give up yet," she said optimistically.
"Since when were you the optimistic type?" he furrowed his eyes questionably at her.
"I never denied the possibilities of you lot losing," pointed Lucia, which only made Harry's shoulder to slump defeatedly.
"You should've then," he mumbled.
"Yeah, I should've, but I also don't want to lie," she said.
"I came to you for help and comfort, but you're not giving me anything!" said Harry from the armchair he was sitting in the middle of the empty common room. It was now a thing for them to meet up in the middle of the night ever since the start of the year.
Lucia smiled amusingly at him, "Honestly, don't be so pessimistic,"
"How can I not?" he huffed like a child.
She made her way to him and rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezing them in an attempt to relieve the stress that was building up within him the way she did back in their fourth year. Harry leant back, tranquil. "All you need is luck,"
And the answer came to Harry in one, sudden, and glorious stroke of inspiration. "Luck."
The morning of the first Quidditch match of the term, Lucia arrived at the Great Hall with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. They, specifically Lavender and Lucia were bundled with their house pride. Lucia had two sets of scarves around her neck, hiding the lower part of her face, but that didn't stop from the glitter on her cheeks and lips not to be seen, as well as the her ebony hair that was put up in half by the floral golden hairpin Harry had gifted her a few years ago.
"Do you know when Ron is coming?" Lavender asked looking at her reflection through her compact mirror as they walked.
"No idea," said Lucia and Parvati together, bored of talking about Ron already. Lavender have been deafening them with the mere topic of Ron since they woke up, and Lucia rather talk about how Bao Bao could get marry if he wants than to talk about her brother figure in... a disturbing way.
Then finally, there was a series of hisses and boos from the Slytherin side of the hall, indicating that the Gryffindor Quidditch team have finally entered the Great Hall. Ah, the great old House rivalry during the Quidditch season had always been amusing. The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers as they approached; Harry grinned and waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head.
And immediately, Lavender dragged Parvati, whilet Lucia followed behind them, toward Ron and Harry.
"Cheer up, Ron!" called Lavender. "I know you'll be brilliant!"
Ron ignored her.
Lucia smiled weakly at Parvati and Lavender, biding them goodbye, making her way to her boyfriend and best friend. "Turn that frown upside-down, will you?" she said at Ron.
Ron sent her a sarcastic smile before frowning back deathly.
"Tea?" Harry asked him. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"
"Anything," said Ron glumly, taking a moody bite of toast.
Lucia shared a knowing, yet pity gaze with Harry before they both succumb into the series of food. A few minutes later Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behavior that she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.
"How are you both feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron's head.
"Fine," said Harry, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."
Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply.
"Don't drink that, Ron!"
Lucia snapped out of her daydream at the sound of Hermione's voice. She, Harry, and Ron looked up at her.
"Why not?" said Ron.
Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes.
"You just put something in that drink."
"Excuse me?" said Harry, though he looked fairly guilty with that ghost of a smirk of his.
"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket.
"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!" Hermione said again, alarmed, but Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one gulp, and said, "Stop bossing me around, Hermione."
She looked scandalised. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed, "You should be expelled for that. I'd never have believed it of you, Harry!"
"Hark who's talking," he whispered back. "Confunded anyone lately?"
Lucia choked on her milk; Ginny patted her back. "You guys really need to sort out your priorities,"
"Says the one that would prioritise Bao Bao over her own life," retort Harry.
"And I know I would never regret it!" scoffed Lucia.
Hermione stormed up the table away from them. Lucia knew from Harry's face that he did not regret whatever he did. Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was.
"What did you put?" Lucia deadpanned at Harry with her brows quirked at him.
"Let's just say... all we need is luck," he winked at her before pecking a kiss on her lips.
Lucia gaped at him. That devious git...
Harry then looked around at Ron, who was smacking his lips.
"Nearly time," said Harry blithely.
Students walked thunderously out toward the stadium, excitement filling the atmosphere. Lucia wasn't quite sure whether it was because it was the first match of the year, or perhaps it was because Harry was playing this year. Either way, she wasn't all that excited as she followed the group of staff, walking alongside Zacharias Smith out of everyone up to the commentator podium.
She was baffled. She was outraged when she got to know that didn't have a choice but to commentate with Smith for the first time, as her problem with talking in front of a crowd was still unsettled. Lee Jordan didn't need to have a partner for all the years he had been commentating, but she couldn't argue, especially since Professor McGonagall didn't give her a no as an answer. Of course, she couldn't blame for getting another commentator to keep up with the mood around the stadium if she were to somehow stutter or stammer midway, but did it have to be Smith? She knew for sure that there was Luna Lovegood right there, so why torment her now?
The staff and the two students separate from one another; Lucia and Smith climbing more stairs when finally, they arrived and were greeted by two thrones. Lucia huffed.
"Heard things aren't going well, for the Gryffindor teams these days," humoured Smith.
Lucia scoffed but didn't retaliate as she propped her earmuff over her ears. She neared the megaphone, "I... uh... welcome, ladies —"
"— gents —" said Smith.
"— and my lovely friends!" Lucia beamed through the megaphone, fiddling with the ends of her hair. She could hear hers and Smith's voice booming across the stadium clearly. "W-Welcome to the first match of the year, and hopefully, one of the most memorable! We are your host —"
"Host, really?" scoffed Smith into the megaphone for the rest of the school to hear.
"This is why I don't want to commentate with you," said Lucia, flustered.
"Then what about giving me the megaphone!" Smith argued.
"Oh, bugger off!" she rebutted. "You wouldn't know how to commentate even if your life is in the line!"
"And you know?" Smith scowled. "Surely one of the most reserved people who can't even utter out a single word without stuttering in Hogwarts wouldn't know how to commentate,"
"You're just bitter that I rejected your invitation last year's Valentine's trip!"
"No I'm not —"
"SMITH! DIFIORE!"
They peered down and saw Professor McGonagall glaring at them, though exhaustedly; she thought she wouldn't have to go through this anymore, but she was clearly wrong. They glared at one another before continuing with their commentating. Smith cleared his throat.
"Anyway, we are the commentators: I am Zacharias Smith, your neighbourhood Hufflepuff,"
"And I'm Lucia, a simple Gryffindor!" said Lucia through the megaphone, ignoring Smith's judging gaze. "Now, before Smith will rudely interrupt me, let's kindly welcome — the team bearing the crest of the proud, royal and regal green serpents — SLYTHERIN! I give you Urquhurt —"
The Slytherin team proudly entered the stadium, though someone was missing. Lucia looked down at the list and furrowed her eyes in confusion; Malfoy wasn't playing. While the stadium was booming with the thunderous cheers, Lucia pondered on the thought. Why would Malfoy pass the chance on playing against Harry?
Seeing as she was distracted, Smith took the mic and recited the names. "— Vaisey! Zabini!"
She snapped out of her daze and continued, "— Beaters: Crabbe and Goyle! Well, that's surprising. How are they still in the team?"
"Probably because they're brawny?" said Smith.
"Probably..."
"Well, they surely don't got the brains for it," he said sardonically.
"How witty," Lucia rolled her eyes.
"Smith! DiFiore!" Professor McGonagall warned once again.
"Sorry, Professor!" they drawled together. Lucia then went on, "— Keeper: Bletchley! Seeker: Harper!"
They Slytherin Quidditch team stood in the middle of the field with their elite brooms, waiting for the arrival of the anticipated team they were going against today. It was well known of how much rivalry Gryffindor and Slytherin House held for one another.
Before Smith could speak through the megaphone, possibly to belittle the Gryffindor team, Lucia eagerly snatched the mic from him and stood up excitedly. "Perhaps this is a bit bias of me —"
"— Sit down —"
"— Let's greet —"
"Never mind," sighed Smith, also standing. "— the team that unfortunately won the Quidditch cup last year —"
"— That's because of me and some of our veteran players as well as a couple that are still in the team — pretty amazing and talented of them if you ask me —"
"Out of luck," mumbled Smith.
Lucia rolled her eyes and pushed him to sit down as she took over. "Let us all welcome — the beloved house of the brave — the scarlet and gold crest, bearing for those who are brave, daring, and —"
"Oh, just get on with it already!" snarled Smith.
"Give it up for... GRYFFINDOR!" Lucia yelled into the megaphone with the enthusiasm she yelled for Slytherin doubled. "— I give you: Dean Thomas and the two beautiful, but fierce ladies: Ginny Weasley and Demelza Robins —"
"Wee..." Smith drawled with no enthusiasm at all. "— yay, welcome Peakes and whatever —"
"Jimmy Peakes and Richie Coote! good luck!" Lucia clapped her hands, "— we have the king himself —"
"King? More like a jest — OUCH!"
"Excuse Smith, he doesn't know what he's talking about," Lucia smiled into the megaphone. "Continuing; Ron Weasley!"
"Finally —"
"Nu-uh, you're not introducing him —"
"Why not? Because he's your boyfriend?"
"No!" Lucia scowled. "Because you're only going to insult him like you did to the others —"
"For heavens sake!" Professor McGonagall yelled. "That's the last warning!"
"Aye..." the two drawled, tone filled with boredom.
"Anyway, let's give it up for the amazing and —"
"— terrible —"
"— incredible —"
"— boring —"
"— Captain and Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team! Harry bloody Potter!"
They walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold: the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides too: Amidst all the yelling and clapping Lucia could hear the roar of Luna Lovegood's famous lion-topped hat.
"Captains shake hands," she said, and Harry had his hand crushed by the new Slytherin Captain, Urquhart. "Mount your brooms. On the whistle... three... two... one..."
The whistle sounded, Harry and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were away.
Harry soared around the perimeter of the grounds, looking around for the Snitch and keeping one eye on Harper, who was zigzagging far below him. Then a voice that was jarringly different to the usual commentator's started up.
"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help..."
These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Harry craned around on his broom to look toward the commentator's podium, because he was sure that it was not Lucia. Beside the ebony-haired girl he was so in love with was a tall, skinny blond boy with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the magical megaphone that had once been Lee Jordan's; Harry recognized Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff player whom he heartily disliked.
"You know what, Smith? This is why people don't like you!" she snatched the megaphone back and talked through it, "You're doing great!"
Smith snatched back the megaphone. "You act like you're their mother —"
"I'm no one's mother," she scoffed before snatching the megaphone. "Ladies, gents, and lovelies, here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal — will they succeed? — Urquhart is streaking down the pitch and —"
Lucia yelled into the megaphone, happy while Smith took it back and said unsatisfyingly, "— Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose..."
"See, all those words of encouragement did work!" Lucia said. Well, maybe Felix was the one that worked in actuality...
Harry, grinning to himself, dived amongst the Chasers with his eyes searching all around for some hint of the elusive Snitch.
With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, Ron having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves, and Ginny having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. This effectively stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Harry liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead.
"Of course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a Beater," said Zacharias loftily, "they've generally got a bit more muscle —"
But Coote, grinning proudly, aimed the next Bludger at Harper, who was passing Harry in the opposite direction.
Lucia then said delectably, "You were saying, Smith?" with a smug smirk.
The only thing the people in stadium could hear was the sound of Smith "Tch" instead of rebutting with the girl, who they were sure would win if there were an argument between them.
It appears Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again, they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved goals with apparent ease. He was smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favorite "Weasley Is Our King," he pretended to conduct them from on high.
"Foul!" Lucia yelled when she saw Harper colliding with Harry deliberately. "Foul!"
"You're being delusional!" Smith said to her. "And I think Harper of Slytherin's seen the Snitch!"
"I am not being delusional!" she fumed. She certainly knew she wasn't hallucinating the collision, because the Gryffindor stands were roaring with utter disapproval. "It was Blatching you toad!"
"It was nothing!" Smith took the megaphone back, "— Yes, he's certainly seen something Potter hasn't!"
"Madam —" but Lucia stopped herself when she caught eyes with Harry, who sent her an assuring smile. She huffed and sat back down. Then she saw a glint of gold levitating above the players. She yelled, "Harry, you better catch that bloody Snitch or else that good luck charm I gave you prove it doesn't work!"
"DiFiore!"
"Apologies, Professor!"
Harry seemed to notice the Snitch as he accelerated; the wind was whistling in his ears so that it drowned all sound of Lucia and Smith's commentary or the crowd, but Harper was still ahead of him, and Gryffindor was only a hundred points up; if Harper got there first Gryffindor had lost... and now Harper was feet from it, his hand outstretched...
"Oi, Harper!" yelled Harry in desperation. "How much did Malfoy pay you to come on instead of him?"
He did not know what made him say it, but Harper did a double-take; he fumbled the Snitch, let it slip through his fingers, and shot right past it. Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it.
"YES!" Harry yelled. Wheeling around, he hurtled back toward the ground, the Snitch held high in his hand. As the crowd realized what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signaled the end of the game.
"That's it folks!" Lucia jumped up and down in ecstasy, still holding the megaphone in her hand, "Gryffindor won the first match of the term — two-hundred and fifty points difference —" she didn't finish as she saw something zooming their way. A distinctive figure —
Lucia screamed, much to Zacharias Smith confusion, but she couldn't move directly away as Ginny sped right at them before they could react properly. With an almighty crash, she collided with the commentator's podium.
The crowd shrieked and laughed, the Gryffindor team landed beside the wreckage of wood under which Zacharias was feebly stirring and Serafina was trying to get out of; she could hear Ginny saying blithely to an irate Professor McGonagall, "Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry."
"Forget the breaks, someone help me before I suffocate down here!" cried Lucia, wanting nothing more than to get off Zacharias Smith before he thinks that she actually wanted to be on top of him.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team, plus Harry and Ginny, stopped their laugh and immediately realised that Lucia was under there. Ron and Harry instantly went forth to get her out of there and when she emerged from the wooden wreckage, she was surprisingly the messiest against the real players of the games.
She huffed out an air of annoyance. "A warning would've sufficed," she said pointedly.
"Sorry," said Ginny coyly.
"Never mind that," a smile quickly broke through her dirt-covered face, "you did it! You all did it!"
"We did it!" They cheered together.
"Someone take Miss DiFiore to the showers," Professor McGonagall sighed. "Someone also help Mr. Smith..."
With a squeal, Lucia was hoisted off the ground and was now on Harry's back. "C'mon," he flashed her a smile, "Let's get you clean up.
"I can finally clean Smith off of me," said Lucia.
"Sorry again, for, you know, crashing into you," said Ginny.
"No worries," Lucia grinned. "You made it up to me by winning this match."
"Have to thank the good luck charm for that," Harry mumbled for only her to hear as she laid her chin on his shoulder. "See, it actually proves useful to still be in use."
"Hmm," she hummed, "Maybe I should get that all for the rest of the team."
The atmosphere in the changing room was as jubilant as it was back in the stadium. Lucia sat on one of the benches, already changed into some clean clothing though unfortunately, she was forced to put on Harry's Quidditch jumper since both Demelza's and and Ginny's jumpers were smaller in size for her to wear.
"Party up in the common room, Seamus said!" yelled Dean exuberantly. "C'mon, Ginny, Demelza!"
Lucia, Ron, and Harry were the last three in the changing room. They were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined.
"I want a word with you, Harry." She took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal."
"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Ron.
"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry, turning away to hang up his robes so that neither of them would see him grinning.
"You know perfectly well what we're talking about!" said Hermione shrilly. "You spiked Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"
"No, I didn't," said Harry, turning back to face them both.
"Uh, yes you did," said Lucia, combing through her damp hair. "Why are you playing faux now?"
"Because I didn't put it,"
"Yes you did! That's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing, and Ron saved everything!" Hermione fussed.
"I didn't put it in!" said Harry, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. "I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." He looked at Ron. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."
"You used reversed psychology?" Lucia felt somewhat proud of this, she stood up abruptly, applauding. "For once you were actually using your brains instead of your brawns! That's brilliant!"
"I'll act like I didn't just hear that," mused Harry, pocketing the potion.
"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" Ron said, astounded. "But the weather's good... and Vaisey couldn't play... I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?"
Harry shook his head. Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice. "You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!"
"I never said you couldn't — Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!"
But Ron had already strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.
Lucia blinked. "Wasn't he the one that's been fussing over his skills? He's been talking about resigning this and resigning that..."
"Er," said Harry into the sudden silence; he had not expected his plan to backfire like this, "shall... shall we go up to the party, then?"
"You go!" said Hermione, blinking back tears. "I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done..."
Before either of them could comfort her, she had already stormed out of the changed room.
Lucia's shoulder slackens. "Things aren't looking better for the both of them... I blame Ron,"
"Let's just go," Harry sighed, shutting his locker door close.
They walked slowly back up the grounds toward the castle through the crowd, relishing the view of the evening sky while they could. Lucia rested her head on his shoulder, looking at the ground.
"Did you like my commentary? I feel like that was the highlight of the match," said Lucia smugly.
"Ah, yes," Harry rested his head against hers, "the fighting match between you and Smith. It was pretty amusing to say the least."
"I don't know why McGonagall thought it would've been a good idea for the both of us to even commentate with each other!" scowled Lucia. "I would rather kiss Trevor, Neville's toad, than to sit with Smith."
"Well, if it makes you feel better, you did great,"
"I'm glad you like it," she said, playing with her robes that were draped over her forearm. "That's probably my permanent job during Quidditch season. I'll probably go for commentating next year too,"
"My favourite part was when you were showering me with praises," he grinned.
"Don't make me regret that. I don't want you to become so big-headed,"
"I can't blame it," said Harry.
Before Lucia could retort, they were already up at the castle and there was a crowd, many of whom were shouting congratulations to Harry, but that didn't seem help with his letdown of a mood since they gotten out of the locker room; Lucia was sure that he was thinking that Ron and Hermione would've been friends again immediately after the win, but that just backfired. Truthfully, it wasn't like they could tell Hermione what she had done, for it had been years since that happened and it wasn't like it was something wrong or anything...
When they arrived for the Gryffindor celebration party, neither could see Hermione. The party was in full swing the moment they stepped foot inside the common room, much to Lucia's dismay. She wanted to spend a quiet time with Harry, but that plan was not going to work anymore. She soon found herself separated from Harry as a mob was soon surrounding him, congratulating him. The Creevey brothers weren't exactly helping either as they were bombarding him with a blow-by-blow match analysis.
It was all fine and dandy at first, until a large group of girls encircled him, laughing at his least amusing comments, batting their eyelids. She was annoyed, sure, but she didn't see any fault in them as they were merely fangirling... that was her prior opinion anyway before they got all touchy with him, especially with Romilda Vane sticking to him, hinting heavily that she would like to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with him.
Lucia's gaze hardened at the sight as she took a swift sip of pumpkin juice, and a dark thought crossed her mind with the reminder of Astoria's words crossing her mind abruptly. Love potion? If that were to happen, she wouldn't hesitate to...
She unclenched her fist and carefully eyeing their every move. Seeing Harry growing visibly uncomfortable, Lucia swooped in, seizing his hand.
Her sudden presence caused a disruption in the group of girls, as they casted her stink eyes. However, Lucia remained tall with a smile on her face, but her grip around Harry's arm tightened. "Sorry girls, but Harry and I need to find our friend. Isn't that right, Harry?"
"Wha — oh yeah! We need to find Ron!" Harry laughed nervously, shrugging them off, moving to stand behind Lucia. He was never good at dealing with girls... "Come on, Lucia," he whispered pleadingly.
Lucia trailed her hand down to his hand, interlacing their fingers together, open for the group to see them. She then beamed, "Well then, have fun! Toodles!" she said, beginning to drag Harry away to a safe place.
One of the girls took a step forward, "Wait, Har —" But her words died down abruptly as she recoiled when she was met by the sharp gaze of the DiFiore girl. Her eyes were written with warning, as if telling the bunch of them to be careful around her the next time they were to see her, before she mustered up another smile at them and wheeled her head around, leaving them dumbfounded.
"Thank you — thank you so much," Harry slumped his weight on her once they were away.
"Why didn't you just get away on your own?" Lucia mused, brushing locks of his hair in between her finger to calm his nerves while nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie.
"I tried, but I was frozen solid," frowned Harry. "They made me so overwhelmed... I don't think I could handle that again,"
Lucia hummed. "Hopefully that doesn't happen again," because she really didn't think she could restrain the urge to fight them for making him feel such way...
"By the way, where's Ron?"
"No idea..." Deciding to leave their salvation that was the food bar, Lucia and Harry stayed close to one another as they went to find Ron around the messy common room.
"Ginny," Lucia called as they ducked toward the drinks table, where Ginny was with Arnold, the Pygmy Puff was riding on her shoulders; Bao Bao cradled in her arms and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her heels.
"Guessing you both are looking for Ron?" she asked, smirking. Lucia and Harry nodded, though confused as to why she was holding that expression. "He's over there, the filthy hypocrite."
Lucia turned to the corner where she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.
"It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?" said Ginny dispassionately. "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Harry."
With a pat on his arm, she walked off to her help herself to more butterbeer. Crookshanks trotted after her, his yellow eyes fixed upon Arnold and Bao Bao enviously.
Lucia tilted her head, still staring at Ron and Lavender. Gradually, a look of disgust etching her face. "What in the hell..."
"We don't look like that, do we?" Harry scrunched his face.
"No one ever complained," said Lucia, "Well, no one except Ginny."
"Well, she's always complaining..."
"Fair," she nodded. "I don't think we've ever snogged in public..."
"No, no we have not," Harry turned away from Ron, blinking madly, trying to get that image out of his mind. He glanced at his girlfriend and saw that she was still watching them.
"Why are you still watching them?!" he gaped.
"I-I dunno," a hand clamped over her mouth, not teared away her line of vision to Harry, "I-It's just seemed so... so intimidating. They really do look like they're eating each other..."
"Then stop watching!"
"I'm trying!"
The snogging session between Ron and Lavender didn't seem like it would be surfacing any time soon when they heard the portrait closing.
"Hermione," breathed Lucia, swearing she saw a man of bushy brown hair whipping out of sight.
"C'mon," Harry said, seizing her hand.
They darted forward, Lucia making sure that Romilda Vane doesn't come any closer to Harry before they pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside seemed to be deserted.
"Hermione?"
They soon found her in the first unlocked classroom they tried. She was sitting on the teacher's desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair.
"Oh, hello, Harry, Lucia," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practicing."
"Yeah... they're — er — really good..." said Harry.
Harry had no idea what to say to her. He was just wondering whether there was any chance that she had not noticed Ron, that she had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, when she said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, "Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations."
"Er... does he?" said Harry.
Lucia remained silent.
"Don't pretend you didn't see him," said Hermione. "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was he?"
"A-Are you okay?" Lucia asked quietly.
Without a moment wasted, Hermione immediately went to Lucia's arms. For a flicker of a second, the latter didn't know what to do before she wrapped her arms comfortingly around Hermione.
"Oh, honey..."
"Was this how you felt?" Hermione's voice muffled into the Quidditch Jumper Lucia borrowed from Harry, "Was this how you felt when Cho and Harry..."
Lucia glanced up at Harry, their eyes locked. And Harry saw a flicker of sadness in her sweet dark eyes that made his heart sunk. However, Lucia was not fazed, for she merely brushed through Hermione's hair consolingly.
"Yeah," she said. "It was..."
"Did it get better?" Hermione croaked.
"I —"
Lucia hesitated. Did it really get better for her? Sure, she was now with Harry, but that didn't mean that she was all right back then... She remembered herself being so miserable, and pathetically, it was over a simple boy.
"Yeah," she managed, "It did,"
Suddenly, the door behind Harry burst open. Much to their unluckiness, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.
"Oh," he said, drawing up short at the sight of Harry, Lucia, and Hermione.
"Oh, for goodness sake," Lucia rubbed her face in distress.
"Oops!" said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. The door swung shut behind her.
There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione disconnected herself from Lucia and was now staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness, "Hi, Harry, Lucia! Wondered where you both got to!"
"Certainly not snogging unlike someone," mumbled Lucia.
Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.
"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she said quietly. "She'll wonder where you've gone."
She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.
"Oppugno!" came a shriek from the doorway.
Lucia whirled around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.
"Gerremoffme!" he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. A distinctive sob could be heard before it slammed.