Chapter 63 - The Unforgivable Curses

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And to a place I come where nothing shines.


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The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still clouded; heavy shadows of pewter grey whirled overhead as Betelgeuse examined her new course schedules at breakfast.

It was, to put it lightly, packed.

"Blimey, love!" Fred exclaimed as he put his chin on her shoulder and looked down at her timetable. "Reckon you will be able to breathe once or twice a week."

"Witty, Freddie boy, truly witty," Betelgeuse drawled with an unimpressed tone, then she pecked him on the nose, making Fred smile.

"What about an Aging Potion?" She heard George whisper to Lee across the table. He, Fred, and Lee have been discussing magical methods of ageing themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament since the Headmaster's announcement.

"Reckon it'll work," Fred chirped beside the girl.

"Bel," George spoke, eyeing his best mate with hope, "you're the only one that's taking Advanced Potions."

Betelgeuse stared at him with blank grey eyes before gesturing with her hand for him to continue. She waited for George to proceed with his speech, but he plainly looked at her with big, round hopeful eyes.

He resembled an overgrown eager puppy.

She slowly rolled her eyes, "I pledge my assistance."

The twins and Lee jumped to their feet, hollering and grinning; George even threw a pudding towards the Slytherin table in glee.

Betelgeuse shook her head, hearing the outraged howl of the unfortunate Slytherin hit by the pastry missile.

"I cannot comprehend why you two desire to join this tournament. If your motive is epochal glory, I am saddened to announce to you that two baboons like you will never hold it."

Her steel-grey eyes wickedly twinkled at their exasperated expressions as Lee let out a roar of laughter.

"But if it is about the money price, I can —"

"Love," Fred interrupted her, sitting once again at the Gryffindor table. "We already told you, we don't want your money. We're not charity cases — let me finish — we want to earn it."

Betelgeuse had tried to intervene during his speech, craving to deny his assumption. She did not consider them charity cases, but now, she understood his point. She nodded.

"Come on, aspiring contenders, let us go," Betelgeuse proposed, getting to her feet. "I do not desire to be late for our first class because of your unrealistic illusions of glory."





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"Black, you are brutally honest," Lee commented as they hurried into their Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

"You sound surprised, Jordan," Betelgeuse indulgently replied, sitting between the twins.

"Well, yeah, you're not the most candid of the lot," the boy continued as he sat at the desk behind them.

"Is that a quibble based on my last name?" Betelgeuse inquired, haughtily arching an eyebrow. She took out her copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection and waited with the unusually quiet twins.

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