The sticky June air made my clothes cling to my body, and I envied the Quidditch players, flying high above. There the wind rustled their robes and blew cold air into their faces. And, I added, they aren't suspended for the rest of the school year.
Dad stood beside me, his neck craned to catch a glimpse of Scorpius's yellow and black robes. I dearly hoped that Hufflepuff would beat Gryffindor. That would show those big-headed, so sure of themselves lions.
Next year Slytherin'll be in the finals. I'll be up there, chucking Bludgers at anyone who came close to the Quaffle.
Both Rose and I had been suspended for the rest of the school year, but had been permitted to come and watch the final match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. I was the only one who came. Even though she was a lot kinder now, Quidditch, to her, was a big waste of time.
Emmanuel Oke's voice rang through the stadium, strained from all of his yelling in the heat.
"Grace passes to King, and she scores! Thirty- ten Hufflepuff! Looks like Potter just rammed himself into his own hoop, he seems to be swerving a bit."
I leaned over the railings and saw my best friend, who had just forgiven me for breaking his wand, woozily leaning over on his broom. The two Gryffindor Beaters stationed themselves by the hoops, probably to knock a Bludger at the Hufflepuff Chasers.
"Malfoy has made a sudden swoop towards the Quidditch field, he's picking up speed, looks like he's going to crash!"
I closed my eyes tightly, terrified that I would see Scorpius sprawled on the pitch like last time— and as a terrific roar came from the crowd, opened them again.
"And Malfoy pulls up just in time— now is chasing the Snitch!!!"
All thoughts of fear vanished as I jumped to my feet, Dad next to me, and jumped up and down excitedly.
"Go, Scorpius!" I yelled, my voice mingling with the hundreds of other student's. "You can beat Gryffindor!"
I wasn't going to tell Albus, but I relished the thought of Hufflepuff beating the semi-smug Gryffindors. They weren't all like that, off course, but some thought they were better than everyone else just because everyone famous was in their house. Well, almost everyone famous. They always forgot what amazing wizards that Severus Snape and the Dark Lord were, and they came from my house. Slytherin. Apparently if they thought you were evil, all mentions of your greatness was erased from the books and minds of people.
"James Potter has just joined Malfoy!" yelled Oke, over the sounds of screaming Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. "It's a race for the Snitch, both Seekers are neck and neck..."
I leaned even further over the railing and saw a blur of yellow, black, and red making it's way across the field.
Come on Scorpius, I prayed desperately, but in my heart had doubts still. My brother was an amazing Seeker, but Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup for something like ten years in a row. They were unstoppable.
"It's all over!" Oke shrieked," Malfoy caught the Snitch! Hufflepuff wins the season with a score of—" His last words were drowned out by the heaving tide of yellow-clad Hufflepuffs and Slytherins hollering at the top of their lungs. The other spectators, Gryffindors and most of the Ravenclaws stared at the ground, clapping politely for the winning team.
"Yes!" I hissed under my breath, and looked towards Dad. His face was flushed with pride, hair mussed, and eyes bright. His black robes whipped around him.
"Well, at least it wasn't my fault that we lost," Albus said, mostly to himself. I turned away from Dad and gaped at seeing my best friend hovering on his broom a couple feet away from our seats.
"Albus!" I gasped. "How did you know we were here?"
"I'm telepathic," he joked, taking a sarcastic reply from my book of sarcasm. "Hazel, I basically just had to look for snow on the seats. Which, in case you're wondering, would be your hair."
I grinned at him. "You did well, even though you lost."
Albus nodded at me. "It was James fault, I said!" He glanced beside me. "Dad? You were watching?"
For a moment I thought he was talking about my father, then I turned and stared into the face that was plastered onto so many newspapers and books. Messy black hair and vivid green eyes like Albus's, with only glasses making it so they weren't identical twins.
"Mr. Potter?" I said, stumbling back a little.
Albus's dad smiled. Then he turned and nodded to my Dad.
"Draco," he said. My eyes widened. Unless I was mistaken, Harry Potter had never said my father's name aloud. But then, there had never been a Potter and a Malfoy who were friends. I guess there was a first time for everything.
Mr. Potter slowly reached out his hand, and shook Dad's. There was a moment of pained silence, then Mr. Potter smiled. I drew my gaze away from them and looked at the Quidditch pitch below. A mass of yellow and black robes were moving on the green grass and the seven Hufflepuffs that were hoisted upon everyone else's shoulders were holding a brilliantly sparkling Cup into the air.
My heart tingled as I saw the victorious Quidditch players. Again I silently cursed Rose for causing the series of events causing me to get suspended. I wanted to be down there, laughing with the other Slytherins and loving the other house's desperation.
"I wish I was down there, too," Albus said sadly. His shaggy black hair blew across his face in a sudden gust of wind that dried the sweat on my brow.
I shrugged. "Don't worry. Next year Slytherin will beat you Gryffindors by only a little bit so you won't feel too bad about yourself." I glanced at him pleadingly, knowing I wouldn't be able to see my best friend until next year. "Please write to me during the summer. Especially on my birthday. I never get out of the house. The villagers think that my entire family is crazy."
"The entire family?" Albus feinted surprise. "If they were just talking about you then I would understand, but everyone?"
I smiled sweetly. "You're very funny, Al. Maybe you should just skip getting a wizard's education and go into comedy for the Muggles."
"Yeah... So, when's your birthday?"
"August 13. The cursed month on the unlucky day."
Albus's broom floated a little closer to me. He leaned on it, hugging the wooden stick to himself. "I'd say you're pretty lucky, Hazel Astoria Malfoy. Maybe two unlucky things rebound like negative numbers."
I looked at him, confused. "Negative numbers?"
"That's what I'm giving you for your birthday, Hazel. School books. You're going to need to know Muggle education."
I folded my arms. "Don't you dare, Albus. I'm already trying to get a wizard's education."
"And how's that going?" Albus's broom jerked even closer to me, until we were almost a foot away from each other. He blushed fiercely and slowly moved backwards. "Sorry."
"Hazel? I hate to separate you from your friend, but we need to go." I turned to see Dad tapping his thick, golden watch that was strapped around his right arm. Mr. Potter stood beside him, his green eyes staring at Albus and I strangely.
I turned back to Albus. "Bye, Al. See you next year."
"Promise that you won't get suspended next time?" Albus asked.
I grinned. "Promise."
"Promise that we'll still be friends?"
"Of course!"
"Promise that you'll write to me?"
"Why am I promising you so much stuff?" I challenged, smiling. "If I don't write I'll be dead, okay Albus?
He held up a finger. "One more. Promise that—" He eyed the two adults behind me, then moved closer on his broom. He gripped the railing for safety, and leaned to whisper into my ear. "Hazel, promise that you'll remember what the Sorting Hat said." Before I could respond he whispered again," I know what it said to you. Remember, okay?"
Remember how Dad and Lucias and Narcissa aren't me? How Slytherins can be good and kind? Remember how I should be proud of my last name? Of course I'd remember.
My lips brushed his ear as I leaned closer and whispered," I promise."