❝HOW COME YOU NEVER TRIED FOR SEEKER?❞
❝I ENJOYED AIMING BLUDGERS AT YOU TOO MUCH.❞
The Gryffindor Quidditch Team finally has some real competition. And Harry Potter is totally conflicted.
warning: this book has many mature, NSFW scenes that contrib...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧━━━━━━━━━━━✧
INDIANA FELT POSITIVELY awful the next day. When she had returned to her dormitory, she could barely make out a coherent sentence to Nancy; she had stuttered so badly that she clamped her mouth shut, waved her hand dismissively, and yanked the curtains around her bed closed so her burning face wasn't visible.
She stayed quiet the whole day. She was, for once, dreading Quidditch practice; she hoped by then she'd be able to speak properly. Whilst walking through the hallways, she mumbled the vocal exercise her mother used to walk her through. It was a bit awkward, of course, because she couldn't go walking through the halls alone; Slytherins had a common history of getting jinxed while alone. It seemed that, after the war, this was more prevalent.
When it was time for Potions, it seemed that even Professor Slughorn was off-put by her lack of talking. Usually she'd raise her hand every now and again, blabbing her mouth out to Nancy or Blaise or even Draco about god knows what. Today, however, she brewed her Essence of Insanity in silence, eyes going out of focus as she cut up her caterpillars.
"Ana!" Nancy shrilled, grabbing her wrist and lifting it up. The knife slipped out of Indiana's hand and clattered to the floor with a tink! The blade had almost cut off the tip of her finger. She came back to her senses and zoned back in; heads had turned, a few people glancing over nonchalantly, a few looking shrewd. Scowling, she kneeled down to pick up the knife. "Pay attention, will you? What is up with you today?"
"Nothing," Indiana said sharply, returning back to cutting it. Weasley, Granger, and Potter were turned to look at her. Her eyes flickered across the trio and glared before she looked away.
She had dreamt of her mother the night before. Indiana hadn't seen the woman's face since her death; her cold, graying skin. Bloodshot green eyes staring blankly and unmoving up until the smoking night sky, colorful sparks of all colors flying above her head. The palms of the girls hands becoming raw against the roughness from the concrete of the Courtyard.
"Miss Jones," Slughorn was standing beside her table. She blinked and glanced up at the cauldron and saw that it was a deep green, when it was supposed to be more of a sage. "Are you alright, dear?"
"Yeah," She breathed out, nodding her head weakly. "I — I'm fine."
"Do add your moonstone powder, before it gets too hot," Slughorn told her, peering over. Nodding feverishly, she reached to grab the tiny mortar of powder, sprinkling it in and allowing her potion to turn the shade of green it was supposed to be. Nancy was eyeing her from across the table.
"Are you okay?" She asked softly.
"I'm fine!" Indiana shrilled, dropping her shoulders and glancing up at her friend exasperatedly. Potter and the other two were looking over again.
