𝙮𝙤𝙪 || 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

For the remaining term, everyone has been actively avoiding Harry ever since the Duelling Club incident. Rumors spread like wildfire throughout the castle, and the students didn't even bother to hide their fear or disdain.

Everywhere you went, you see them muttering, gesturing and running away when they so much as catch a glimpse of your friend. You had the urge to scold them every time, but Harry always held you back, saying that it wasn't worth the attention. When he became particularly tired of it, he didn't bother to restrain you as a group of sixth-years kept whispering and pointing at him.

They merely shoved you off and walked away when they had enough of your rambling, but the small smile on Harry's face was worth it. You hardly see him enjoying himself anymore, so every bit of happiness counts.

There was an air of seriousness surrounding Hogwarts. Majority of the students were being cautious, except for the Weasley twins. They found the situation funny, and so seized the opportunity to mess with everyone else. They marched ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting nonsense like 'Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard' and asking him who was going to be his next target.

Percy didn't find this amusing. Neither did Ginny, who cried every time Fred and George keep up with their antics. It would have bothered you as well if it didn't make Harry feel better. They were treating it as a joke, fully believing that there was no chance Harry was Slytherin's heir. Your anger for the twins simmered down slightly after that.

Ginny became more closed off these days. She wouldn't accept your attempts of comfort anymore, so you gave up and decided to leave her alone for now. You do hope she'll be alright after Christmas Break.

△⃒⃘ ⌁☍ ❾¾

It wasn't hard to spot you on the train platform back to King's Cross station. Snow crunched underneath Oliver Wood's footsteps as he makes his way through the crowd. Breathing in the chilly air, it felt like his lungs were frozen.

This was the first time he saw you going home for Christmas. Last year, you stayed behind to accompany your friends. Oliver would be lying if he said he wasn't glad you were going back this year. After the recent petrifications and nasty rumors of Harry Potter being the possible heir of Slytherin, he doubt he'd have fun at home if he knew you were staying at the castle still.

You worry him sometimes. He sees you more like a sister he never had than an underclassman he's friends with. He never had siblings growing up, so he tends to care a lot for those younger than him.

Except, of course, if they decide to immerse themselves in the sacred sport known as Quidditch. He looks out for his teammates, but being soft on them wouldn't toughen up their skin. They need to build tolerance against rain, harsh winds and intense heat if they ever want to survive.

Come to think of it, maybe he could get you into Quidditch after Christmas break. You were in Hufflepuff, but that doesn't mean he couldn't teach you a thing or two. That would make you rivals, but then you would learn a lot more if you played against him on the field. He likes you, he really does, but his competitive side refuses to go easy on you if you join the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. You'll need the experience, after all.

Oliver's imagination involving you getting possibly hit by a Bludger was suddenly halted. He stops in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing, when he sees you talking to someone he least wanted you to be in close proximity with in the first place.

Adrian Pucey.

The Slytherin seems to be spitting in your face with how fast he was talking, often pointing at you for emphasis. You stood in front of him, unfazed and with crossed arms, and he's surprised you actually look bored instead of being frightened or furious.

Oliver wanted to intervene, but he could tell that you had the situation handled, so he just watched from afar as you took a deep breath after Pucey's ramblings. Compared to him, you were speaking slowly, as if reasoning with a toddler while you bared your palms. He snorted into his scarf. Funny, considering how Pucey was older than you by a few years.

Whatever you said seems to be enough for Pucey. He rolls his eyes and, lifting two fingers, pokes your forehead harshly before walking away.

"You alright, lass?" He calls, side-stepping to avoid a Ravenclaw as he made his way to you.

You turn to him. "Oh, hello Oliver. Yeah, I'm fine," you said, lightly massaging your forehead with a small frown. "Did you see me talking to Pucey?"

"Yeah, what was that about?" Asked Oliver, eyes straying from your face to your neck. You were wearing a Gryffindor scarf, his scarf, and that made him smile.

"He just wanted back what Nifty supposedly stole from him," you huffed. "It's not her fault she's attracted to shiny things. He should have kept a better eye on his stuff."

"Have you been talking to him after that detention you had?" He questions.

There was nothing good to be gained when conversing with a Slytherin like Pucey. He faintly recalls a few memories from the past where he used to converse with him, back when Pucey wasn't as big of an arse as he was now. They hadn't been friends, but they both love Quidditch and discussed tactics whenever they could until Pucey was in his second year. Something changed in him, and the nice boy he was acquainted with became a stereotypical Slytherin. Oliver hadn't bothered to understand the sudden shift of attitude and he wasn't going to now. Not when he was possibly threatening you.

"He's not blackmailing you or anything, right?" He asked, just to be sure.

"Nope," you said honestly. "Well, he did say he was going to hang me upside down in the courtyard if I don't find his necklace—but!" You added hastily, grabbing on to Oliver's arm when he was about to run after Pucey. "I know it's somewhere in Hagrid's cabin. Nifty borrowed it, so I'll be able to find it there after Christmas."

Oliver fixes you with a tentative look. He wasn't doubting you and your searching skills. Hufflepuffs were known to be good finders, after all, but what were the chances of Pucey just letting you off the hook that easily? You did hurt him in the worst way imaginable (Oliver winced at the news at first, but then beamed with pride knowing you stood up for yourself) so it is likely he will act on some sort of revenge.

"I can look after myself, Oliver," you reassure him. "If he does try to hurt me, I'll kick him there again before he can even take out his wand."

Oliver couldn't help but chuckle at your words. You will be fine, he tells himself, before he changes the subject. The rest of the conversation was about Quidditch, and he was disappointed to find out that you weren't even considering entering tryouts next year.

"I'd have to go against you and Harry," you said before averting your eyes. "And Angelina, and Katie...I-I don't want to hurt anyone, is what I'm saying!"

Oliver tried persuading you one more time, because the chances of injuring someone else wasn't as big as injuring yourself, when he hears the familiar whistle of the Hogwarts Express. When it arrives at the platform, you were approached by your Hufflepuff friends. The redhead you were with had stared at him, awestruck, before a brunette drags her inside the train. The other with blonde hair just smiles at him as she followed them.

Before you could completely get on the train, you turn back and hugged Oliver for a split second. Just when he was about to reciprocate it, you pull away and inserted yourself in between the students to get on. He couldn't follow you because of the obvious size difference, so he had to wait it out until the others weren't rushing inside.

"I'll hopefully see again at King's Cross station," you said loudly, and Oliver could barely see you above the heads of the other students. "Happy Christmas, Oliver!"

He knew you couldn't hear him anymore with all the chatter and buzzing going. Still, he yells back a 'Happy Christmas to you too!' with an almost content feeling in his chest.

He said almost, because despite not being able to return your hug, you should have at least given him the chance to pat your head.