Chemistry - Ron Weasley fan fic

12 𝑃𝑜𝑝𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑛

A/N- goddamn It's been awhile. Tried a new little format of writing, hope your happy and healthy everyone!!  ~H

"you know it's hogesmede on Sunday"

2.7k words

The quidditch field was anything but warm. Ice was hanging of the tips of Margo's inflamed, numb fingers. The pitch grass was a dark and damp earthy green mixed with an array of colourful, charming mud. In other words, winter had arrived. A gryfinndor scarf was wrapped tightly around Margo's neck, the red and gold streaks glistening. She looked like a gryfinndor poster boy. Well she kinda was.

People were taking their seats in the quidditch pitch stands, granted not a lot of people attended. Mainly quidditch loving maniacs, people who were forced there by their friends, unknowing first years who were just excited to be in the presence of quidditch players -even if the quidditch players were no good- or the Slytherins. Margo's least favourite clique that had decided to show their faces.

Margo has said it once and she will say it again, she didn't hate Slytherins. No she only hated a few snobby pure bloods who needed to get of their high horses before she knocked them of. The Slytherins were wearing deep green scarfs that clashed strangely with the wet dirty floor beneath them. They looked positively vile. The group we are talking about is very obviously 'Draco and his gang of goons'.

Margo could see two people in the back that she really did not want to see right now, her brother Felix and Blaise. After what had happened with the both of them (Felix manipulating her emotions and Blaise harassing her in Defence Against The Dark Arts) things had been a little rocky. Margo hadn't talked to either of them since both individual incidents; and she didn't intend to.

The group were loud, obnoxious, and downright teeth grindingly annoying. Draco was being his loud pompous self. Wearing that dumb hat with a tail. And those dumb gloves to protect his little precious fingers.
Next to him was crabbe and goyle, which was Not very surprising.

Then in the back was of course Blaise and Felix, along with little Ms Parkinson. Pansy seemed to be practically clinging on desperately to Blaises arm, but he seemed to take no notice of her whatsoever. Grimacing every time she would cackle loudly at one of dracos unfunny 'jokes'.

As the group began to take their seats a few meters away from Margo a voice interrupted her train of thought that was on its way to hateville station.

"Margo, you sitting with anyone?" Hermione elegantly sat down next to Margo, wearing warm winter clothes Margo was envying. For some reason Margo had though it would have been a good idea to change into thin black leggings along with a white crop top and a thin cardigan before leaving. It was very unpleasant.

"Nah no one." Margo replied brushing her arms trying to get the blood flow moving; It was no help. "What the hell is that?" Margo was pointing down to hermiones lap. Which layed a bowl full of weird beige, lumpy balls.

"Popcorn?" Hermione teased looking at the girls face with a small smirk. Sometimes she forgot Margo grew up in a strict pure blood manor. Margo peered into the bowl more deeply, going to brush her hand delicately across the popcorn before instantly retracting it after feeling the Styrofoam texture.

"Well whatever that is." Margo gulped not daring to take her eyes of the weird lumpy thing called 'popcorn', did it explode? Was it a weapon? Hermione was finding this utterly entertaining. Chuckling lightly at the girls worried demeanour over bloody popcorn.

"You should try some it tastes divine." Hermione began, pushing the plastic bowl towards margos face. Margo ducked down, her head falling next to her knees. That was one of the most terrifying moments of her life. What about if the popcorn jumped and attacked her? wait, now she was just being silly.