LITTLE MISS MUDBLOOD – ACT 1 : SCENE 3 : CHAPTER 41
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Early that next morning, the Gryffindor trio approached their Slytherin friends in the Great Hall, with an air of grimness surrounding them. Hermione (friends once more with Ron) shakily handed Y/N a note.
She read it aloud:
Dear Hermione,
We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts.
Execution date to be fixed.
Beaky has enjoyed London.
I won't forget all the help you gave us.
Hagrid
"Oh, no!" gasped Daphne, snatching the note and reading it over again. "They lost? How could they have lost?"
"You know them," said Theodore, patting Daphne awkwardly on the back. "Mr. Malfoy has that old bunch of fools in the palm of his hand. He gets what he wants, and if it's a hippogriff's execution. . . ."
The safety measures imposed on the students since Black's second break-in made it impossible for the Gryffindor trio and Y/N to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Their only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.
He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.
"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committees jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em. . . ."
"There's still the appeal," said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"
"My step-father said he'll try and help the case," said Blaise quietly as he, Theodore, and Daphne walked alongside them. Hagrid looked at him in shocked surprise. "That is, if my mother doesn't drive him away before the appeal."
"R – really?" said Hagrid, sniffling slightly. "I – I didn' think –"
"That we'd help you?" Theodore said brightly. "'Course we will, there's at least a few good Slytherins. Can't say the same for Malfoy, though."
They were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively.
"S'no good, all of yeh," said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm just gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that. . . ."
Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.
"Look at him blubber!"
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.
"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"
Harry and Ron both made furious moved toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first – SMACK!
She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Y/N, Daphne, Theodore, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.
"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul – you evil –"
"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.
"Get off, Ron!"
Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.
"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.
"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.
"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"
Y/N's jaw dropped open and something within her hurt. Hermione, her own sister, wanted her first year as Quidditch Captain to totally and utterly fail? She knew how much it meant to her, even if Malfoy was on her team, to succeed. Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal, but Y/N would have thought anyone wouldn't like it if their own sibling didn't support a mild milestone in their life.
But one question swirled in Y/N's mind, one shocking and unrealistically out-of-line question:
Was Hermione prejudiced against Slytherin?
There was a thick line between House pride and prejudice, and throughout the years Y/N didn't know which side her own sister was on.
"C'mon, guys," Y/N said quietly to Daphne, Theodore, and Blaise. They followed swiftly behind, also wondering if Hermione's so-called House pride would get in the way of their friendships.
All through the time-altered morning, Y/N ignored Hermione except to say a few things. In Arithmancy she worked with Malfoy when they were told to pair up with a partner (which was odd on his part, too, but he didn't mind as long as he didn't have to work with a dipshit) and she ignored Hermione every time she asked what was wrong (as she should've known). Y/N didn't listen to a word her sister said on their trek up to the Divination Tower, and seated with her fellow Slytherins in a far-away corner, across the room from Hermione.
A crystal ball full of pearly white mist glowed on every table, leaving the students even more confused than ever.
"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Blaise muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby.
"Means we've finished palmistry," Y/N muttered. "I hate that she looked at me with pity every time she looked at my child line. At least I'll have children –"
"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball.
"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."
Hermione snorted.
"Well, honestly . . . 'the fates have informed her' . . . who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low.
"It's not like you've ever predicted something in your boring life so maybe you can shut your trap for once and let the teacher actually teach instead of doing it for them!" Y/N snapped, fed up with her sister. "Honestly, if I had a Sickle every time you've spoken out of turn in class, I'd have enough money to last me six generations!"
The air grew tense and it was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard them, as her face was hidden in the shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.
"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes so to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of class."
And so they began. Y/N, though she defended Divination against her sister, felt extremely foolish, staring blankly at the crystal ball, trying to keep her mind empty when thoughts such as "Hermione's as prejudice against Slytherins as Malfoy is against Muggle-borns" kept drifting across it. Maybe Y/N was just angry?
"Seen anything yet?" Daphne asked them after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal gazing.
"Yeah, Y/N's burning rage for Hermione not supporting her own sister," Theodore snickered.
"Well if you're going to promise to support your one and only sister through everything – even if it means rooting for another team – and then you go back on that promise because of House prejudice –"
Hermione glared from her table, Y/N fiercely glaring back.
"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" Professor Trelawney murmured over the clinking of her bangles.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione suddenly burst into laughter.
"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalized. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached the Gryffindors' table and peered into their crystal ball.
"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball, so that it was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving . . . but what is it?"
"Ten Galleons it's the Grim," whispered Theodore to Blaise.
"Twenty Hermione says something about it," Blaise bet back.
They grinned mischievously.
"My dear . . . ," Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Harry. "It is here, plainer than ever before . . . my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer . . . the Gr –"
"Oh, for goodness' sake!" said Hermione loudly. "Not that ridiculous grim again!"
The clinking of money sounded behind Y/N.
Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione's face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Hermione too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.
"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane."
Y/N scoffed. "Yeah, you'll find that neither imaginative nor supportive qualities lie anywhere near Hermione, but of course, that may just be the case with her own fucking sister. I mean, I've never experienced having her support, have you?"
Hermione gave Y/N a sharp look, but she went on savagely.
"But can you really expect creative properties from someone who has the imagination of a flobberworm? I don't know," Y/N stood up, fists tight. "I do know, though, that you can't expect Hermione to be on your side when it has something to do with your House being Slytherin because she's prejudiced and won't care if you're her sister or not. Either way, she'd wish bad luck on you. Now if I were in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, or even Gryffindor it'd be 'yay you!' but that's not the case here, now is it?"
There was a moment's silence as Daphne pulled Y/N back into her seat. Then –
"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag."Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"
"Cry me a river," Y/N muttered to herself.
To the whole class's amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.
"Oh, boohoo, call the wambulance," Y/N sneered, still riled up.
It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim. She turned abruptly from Harry and Ron's table, breathing rather heavily as she tugged her gauzy shawl more closely to her.
"Ooooo!" said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. "Oooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!'You said it ages ago, Professor!"
Professor Trelawney gave her a dewy smile.
"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Hermione Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs. . . . The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know. . . ."
Lavender and Parvati looked deeply impressed, and moved over so that Professor Trelawney could join their table instead.
"That was a little bit harsh, Y/N –"
"Maybe use your pent up anger on the Quidditch Pitch tomorrow?" Theodore suggested brightly.
Y/N's lips twitched into a brief smile.
"Maybe."
The Slytherin-Hufflepuff match wasn't what Y/N was hoping for, but at least they were in the lead. Only by two-hundred points, though. However, Y/N tried keeping her hopes up throughout the Easter holidays as the tensions grew – along with the homework.
Y/N had been good with staying on top of her homework. However, with Quidditch practice almost every day after the Gryffindors and helping Hagrid with his case, Y/N felt as though it would have been better if she hadn't picked so many electives. Nevertheless, she pursued on, even with the nerve-racking Gryffindor-Slytherin match creeping upon them – which would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays.
Y/N kept herself sane by reminding herself that she only banned Malfoy from that one Slytherin-Hufflepuff game. He would play in the season finale, which was a good thing because even Y/N could admit that Malfoy was a great Seeker. She felt bad for saying that he was a better Seeker than Terence Higgs, but Y/N couldn't deny it. Malfoy was good.
But what caused most of the highly charged atmospheres was the Captains. This year was the last year that Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor team, would be able to win the Quidditch Cup, but also the first year of Y/N Granger as Captain of the Slytherin team. She didn't want to lose the Quidditch Cup during her first year as Captain, that would be sort-of embarrassing. But would losing the Quidditch Cup as a seventh year to a third year be more or less embarrassing?
The night before the Quidditch match was positively terrible. Hermione still hated her guts for no apparent reason, Marcus Flint, ex-Captain of the Quidditch team had hexed her bad enough to go to the Hospital Wing, and Y/N couldn't sleep one bit during the night, leading to her sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, a mug of hot team in her shaky hands.
"Shouldn't my Co-Captain be sleeping?" came the unmistakable voice of Draco Malfoy as he came into the Common Room.
"Shut up I'm mad at you," Y/N said, a quiver in her voice as she spoke. Even with the two blankets wrapped around her, Y/N felt very shivery that particular hour, but it wasn't from the cold.
Malfoy sat on the opposite end of the couch, hair dripping as he pulled a similar blanket over himself. They sat somewhat peacefully among each other, neither enjoying nor despising each other's presence. It was actually rather calming for Y/N, and she felt herself relax as her shivers went away and the butterflies in her stomach came to a stop. After that, it only took a few minutes before Y/N was passed out, sprawled out over the couch.
Y/N had the Slytherin team up and into the Great Hall before any of the other Houses could wake up. She knew – just knew that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would be rooting for Gryffindor, only because they wanted to see Slytherin lose the Quidditch Cup for once. However, Y/N wasn't going to let the other Houses (and her sister's) unsupportiveness tear them down.
"You need to eat, Y/N," said Anthony Grace as he joined the team in the Hall, looking extremely nervous. "Or you'll pass out before the match even starts."
Y/N paled as more and more students came into the Hall, seeing the Slytherin team and booing. She felt bile rise up in her throat. Standing abruptly, she ran out the Hall just as the Gryffindor team came inside. Hearing three-fourths of the Hall cheer only made her run faster.
She barely made it to one of the lavatory stalls before emptying her stomach. Coughing profusely, she spit out more, and more, and more until there was nothing else to empty. Daphne's familiar perfectly-manicured hand came into Y/N's view, holding a glass of water and a vial. Her other hand held back Y/N hair.
"Thanks," Y/N said croakily, downing both the water and the Calming Draught. Daphne started to french-braid Y/N's hair, pulling it indefinitely out of her face. "I'd feel so much better if three-quarters of the school wasn't wishing for us to lose. I mean, if we lost we wouldn't hear the end of it, and if we won, they'd hate us even more. It's a lose-lose situation, isn't it?"
"The life of a Slytherin," Daphne sighed, tying off Y/N's hair. "We just have to change that, don't we? Change people's perspective on Slytherin and show them that we're not all V-Voldemort. That ambition and determination doesn't equal evil. Like how being in Hufflepuff doesn't make you a dumb, cowardly weakling. I know plenty of brave and smart Hufflepuffs. Or how you don't have to be smart or extraordinary to be a Ravenclaw . . . actually, I think I have a dyslexic Ravenclaw friend . . ."
"Daph, where are you going with this?" Y/N choked out, checking her watch.
Daphne paused. "Oh, well I don't know. I think I was trying to explain that House stereotypes play a big role in producing bad witches and wizards. I mean, we were booed at when we were sorted, weren't we? And years of people telling us we were going to be bad because we're in Slytherin would take a toll on us, wouldn't it?
"I mean, think of it this way; all your Hogwarts years you've been told you're not great and you're a coward . . . just for being in Slytherin. And then this totally bangin' dude comes up to you and says 'Aye yo, you're great and all. But like, you could be so much better if you joined me.' And you're like, alright sure, this dude believes in me. Totally rad. And so you join him but it turns out he's evil but like, you can't turn back because you've already made a promise to him. So really, it's not actually your fault you're on the 'bad side', it's other people tearing you down so you join the first person who tells you you're great because they believed in you. So really, it's the other Houses' faults that Slytherin turns out more than its fair share of dark witches and wizards."
"Alright, Daphne, great anecdote," said Y/N, standing up. She held back another round of vomit. "But I have to get going. Rant later?"
Daphne grunted. "Fine. Go get 'em, serpent."
Y/N briefly smiled and made her way to the Quidditch Pitch, cursing that the Calming Draught didn't work. She joined her team in the locker rooms, silently pulling on her emerald green robes and splashing cold water on her face. She gave a brief speech to her team, explaining that they needed to play their best, blah, blah, blah, and in no time at all she was saying, "Alright, snakes, let's go tear up those lions –"
They walked out into the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP!" Behind the Slytherin goalposts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.
"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Y/N Granger, followed by a clearly unwanted Co-Captain, Draco Malfoy –"
The Slytherin in the stand cheered and booed – it was sort of confusing but Y/N tuned them out.
"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.
Y/N and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hand very tightly; she felt the sweat emitting from Woods hand – but she wasn't any better.
"May the best team win," Wood grunted. Y/N grinned, reaching up and ruffling his sandy-brown hair.
"Don't cry too much when we kick your arses, Wood," she said, but the crack in her voice revealed how nervous she was.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Granger," he retorted, poking her harshly in the side. Y/N's eyes narrowed.
"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three . . . two . . . one . . ."
The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. Y/N, stricken with nerves, dived forward and caught the Quaffle, letting out a breath of air as she sped down the field.
"And it's Slytherin in possession, Y/N Granger of Slytherin with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Gryffindor goalposts, not to be biased but I hope she drops it! Anway, oh that utterly sucks – Quaffle intercepted by Alicia Spinnet, Spinnet of Gryffindor tearing up the field – looking good, Alicia – WHAM! – nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Blaise Zabini of Slytherin is no longer on Alicia's tail – yikes! Adrian Pucey of Slytherin brutally but fairly intercepts Spinnet's pass to Johnson – oh, what's that? Pucey of Slytherin drops the Quaffle to avoid a Bludger to the head – Gryffindor back in possession, come on Angelina Johnson! Nice swerve around Granger – duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight –
"OUCH!"
Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Peregrine Derrick went smashing into her.
"Sorry!" he said as the crowd below booed. "Sorry! Didn't see her there!"
"Peregrine!" Y/N called angrily.
He looked at her with his arms raised in defeat. "What? Honest mistake I actually didn't see her there – OI!"
A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Peregrine's head. His nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.
"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch as Peregrine Derrick and Gemma Farley changed out. Peregrine sat huffily on the benches. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Beater!"
"Come off it, miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.
"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Y/N heart sank as she flew forward to take their penalty shot, eyes set for the far right goalpost. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goalposts, mainly over the left, his jaw clenched.
"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Y/N waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "But Granger's an excellent Chaser! What'll it be . . . what'll it be? It's very difficult to tell but – I DON'T BELIEVE IT! SHE SNEEZES AND STILL BEATS WOOD? TWENTY-TEN GRYFFINDOR!"
Y/N, wondering what in Merlin happened, wiped snot on her sleeve, very embarrassed yet also ecstatic from her goal. Wood glared at her. She grinned.
"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession – no! – Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor back in possession with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field – BLETCHLEY JUST BARELY MISSES IT! THIRTY-TEN GRYFFINDOR!"
Y/N grumbled curses under her breath as the play started back up. Receiving a pass from Blaise, she sped down the field but –
WHOOSH.
One of the Bludgers came streaking past Y/N's right ear, hit by George Weasley, who grinned mischievously. The again –
WHOOSH.
The second Bludger barely missed Y/N's elbow. Fred Weasley, a similar grin on his face, was closing in.
Y/N had a fleeting glimpse of Fred and George zooming toward her, clubs raised and ready to strike a Bludger that had come back for more –
She turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Fred and George collided with a sickening crunch. Glancing at the as they lurched away from each other, Y/N streaked down the field, passing the Quaffle between Adrian and Blaise.
"Yikes!" yelled Lee as three-quarters of the stands booed. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to be faster than that to try and outfox Miss Y/N Granger! And it's Slytherin still in possession – no! – Gryffindor in possession as Johnson intercepts a pass – Granger hot on her heels – poke her in the eye, Angelina! – it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke – oh no – Granger in possession, Granger flying toward the Gryffindor goalposts, come on now, Wood, save – ! YES! YOU WON'T BE SCORING ON WOOD ANYTIME SOON, GRANGER!"
Y/N cursed out loud as the game resumed. She considered switching out her Keepers because Miles Bletchley let yet another Quaffle slip past him! What in Merlin! She told herself she wouldn't switch them out unless Gryffindor scored again.
"FIFTY-TEN, GRYFFINDOR!"
"Time-out!" Madam Hooch called as Y/N held up the signal.
Muttering to herself, she beckoned Theodore forward from the benches, slightly glaring at Miles as they switched out. Too furious to say anything, she let Malfoy do all the talking until Madam Hooch called for the end of the time-out.
As the game continued on, Y/N became more and more frustrated. Theodore wasn't any better than Miles; Malfoy was cheating; she had taken a Bludger to the arm so that Adrian could score – but it was no use. Gryffindor was up eighty-twenty.
Y/N paused high in mid-air, panting and catching her breath as she watched Adrian and Blaise pass back and forth, not letting any Gryffindor Chasers intercept. However, she should not – one-hundred percent, should not have paused in mid-air, not when Fred and George still haven't had their revenge.
Time seemed to slow as a Bludger raced toward her chest. Move! A voice shouted in her head, but it was no use. It was as though Y/N was frozen in midair.
As the Bludger made contact, what breath was left in her body escaped. She felt each and everyone of her ribs snap in half, coming close to puncturing her organ. Y/N couldn't breathe.
She thought that was bad enough.
However, another Bludger came out of nowhere. She didn't see it, but she felt it slam into her spine, effectively breaking it. If she were an ordinary Muggle, she'd be paralyzed for the rest of her life.
But in that brief moment, before she went to the Hospital Wing (as she knew she would), Y/N slipped off her Firebolt. It was inevitable. She couldn't help it – at the moment, she was paralyzed and couldn't move any part of her body. She couldn't even breathe.
She could, though, feel her body plummeting. She watched the landscape, and then the stands flash by in a blur. Closing her eyes, Y/N waited for the impact of the ground – Merlin knew she would break several more bones, as she had before – but that was odd . . . it never came? Two supports came across the back of her knees and just below her shoulders.
Real time came back to Y/N and her hearing came back – three-quarters of the stands sounded like they were exploding . . . with excitement. Oh no! Did they lose?
Reluctantly, Y/N's eyes fluttered open. Crimson supporters (that strongly resembled blood) poured over the barriers onto the field, making way for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, which was filled with beaming members.
Y/N groaned in defeat and pain. She looked up to the sky – but a face blocked the sun. She looked closer.
"Draco Malfoy you did not abandon the Snitch to –"
She turned away from him and hurled. Unfortunately, they were still in the air and some random-arse Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff duo were splattered with vomit. They cursed her as they looked up.
"Sorry!" she croaked to them.
Malfoy flew to an empty spot on the field, followed closely by the rest of the team. He hopped off his broom, still holding a paralyzed Y/N, and let Blaise (who had grabbed Y/N's Firebolt) pick up his Nimbus, before pushing past several students, making way for the castle. Y/N, whose head felt like it was going to explode, rested it on Malfoy's shoulder, not caring that she hated him.
They passed Hermione and Ron. Ron, looking ecstatic, doubled back, now glaring.
"What are you doing with her, Malfoy?" he sneered, arms crossed as he blocked his path.
"What does it look like, dumbarse?" said Malfoy roughly. "I'm obviously taking her to Madam Pomfrey because she's paralyzed and has several broken bones. Now if you would get out of my fucking way and let me get up to the castle, I'd be able to let Madam Pomfrey fix her up."
Ron, still glaring, looked at Y/N. She nodded and he moved out of the way, glaring at Malfoy as he trekked up to the castle.
"Some friends you have," Malfoy muttered as they reached the castle. "Caring more about my intentions than your safety."
"Least we know Ron's loyal," Y/N grumbled, more to herself than Malfoy. "Honestly, you're first loyalty should be towards your family – ahem, sister – rather than your stupid House. First year as Captain and Hermione's already wishing for me to lose. Cause that's the definition of 'I'll always support you!'" she said in a shrill voice.
Malfoy snickered as they reached the Hospital Wing.
"Oh, dear," Madam Pomfrey gasped as they entered. "Set her on the bed over there, Mister Malfoy, yes, thank you, you all may leave."
However, nobody left and Madam Pomfrey tutted.
"If you say so," she said, and tore Y/N's uniform open.
"ARGh!"
"Gross!"
"I'm out of here!"
Y/N cringed and she looked down. Ribs. Poking out of her chest. She resisted vomiting again as Madam Pomfrey set to fixing her up.
In no time at all (and with holding onto Theodore and Blaise's hands), Y/N was all fixed up and no longer paralyzed. Malfoy had come back to deliver her pajamas, and Daphne and Anthony, and all their friends (as well as the rest of the House) came around with dinner and the rest of the team, looking very grim.
"Maybe you shouldn't eat down in the Great Hall tonight – or tomorrow morning," Daphne said, setting a plate of Y/N's favorite food in front of her. "They're not being very nice."
The large group of Slytherins grumbled their agreements, all sitting on the beds surrounding and eating. Malfoy, however, was scribbling furiously.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Y/N asked him, receiving a glare.
"Writing to father," he said shortly.
"About?"
"About how he should sue the Weasleys for – that." he pointed the end of his quill at where Y/N's wounds were previously. She rolled her eyes.
"It's not that deep," she said, flinging a glop of food onto his parchment.
"Oi!"
"Listen to me, Malfoy," Y/N said very seriously, squinting at him. "Do not, and I mean it, do not sue the Weasleys. I will literally kill you if you do."
"Granger –"
The Hospital Wing doors creaked open and the Gryffindor team, Ron, and Hermione came in, looking around at the Slytherin-filled room. Most of the team just set gifts and candy at the end of her bed and left, but the Weasley Twins, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed a little longer.
"We're very –"
"– freaking sorry."
Said Fred and George, and they both planted a tiny kiss on Y/N's shoulders, hugged her tightly (ouch!) and left. Harry and Ron gave her tiny smiles and little gifts before following the twins. Hermione stared, trying to get Y/N to look at her. Y/N looked away, turning her head. Maybe she was taking it a little far?
"Hermione?" Ron called from the door.
"Coming!" said Hermione, her voice cracking the slightest bit.
She stared at Y/N a second longer before turning towards the door, walking very fast and wiping her eyes. Peregrine Derrick stuck his foot out and Hermione tripped. Y/N, however, flicked her wrist and extra bedding fell before Hermione, leaving her to land softly. She looked back at her before pulling herself up and joining Harry and Ron.
Y/N sighed, playing with her food. She felt worse than ever before, and not even magic could make her feel any better.