𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿-𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 - 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲

23 | An (Almost) Crushed Windpipe... And Food!

Your P.O.V.

That's it. I'm done. I don't care if I'm expelled or imprisoned or anything. This is the last straw. This bitch is about to die.

"Malfoy," I say, my voice rising, "I don't know what the hell you think flirting is, but insulting people I care about certainly isn't it!"

"Now, now, Weasley—ugh, it feels like an insult to address you that way—there's no reason to shout," Malfoy says, backing off slightly.

"Oh, believe me, there's plenty of reason."

"I was just explaining how you should come to my house this summer for a visit, let you have a break from those dreadful blood-traitors and that little mud—"

I pin Malfoy's throat to the wall with my forearm in one swift motion. He finally shuts his stupid face, a look of terror in his eyes.

"Finish that sentence," I growl. "Go on. I dare you."

Malfoy shakes his head as much as my pin will allow.

"Nothing to say? Well then, you'd better go pack since we're heading home tomorrow morning. Wouldn't want your daddy to be angry that you missed the train."

Malfoy whimpers quietly as his face goes redder and then begins turning blue while I block his airways.

Just before he's about to lose consciousness, I release him and he scurries off, coughing. I chuckle quietly, wondering if I'll have time to tell Harry before the feast in an hour.

"That was very interesting, Miss Weasley. If Mr. Malfoy ever shows up to the hospital wing with a crushed windpipe or fractured larynx, should I assume you're the culprit?"

I whirl around in panic, recognizing the voice of Professor McGonagall.

"Professor! I— um— I was just—"

"Relax, Miss Weasley," McGonagall chuckles. "I saw everything. Including the, erm, inappropriate terms Mr. Malfoy used to describe your family and your friend Miss Granger."

"So... I'm not going to be punished?"

"Not this time, Miss Weasley. I believe that you only acted when provoked. However, should I catch you attacking a student unprovoked, there will be consequences."

"Yes Professor. I'll be careful, Professor." I turn to leave but McGonagall stops me.

"Miss Weasley?"

"Yes?"

"In my strictly unprofessional opinion, Malfoy deserves to get a scare put into him. Good job."

I grin widely.

"Thank you Professor."

⚡️⚡️⚡️

They won. Ew.

"Kill me now," Ron mutters from across the table as Malfoy smirks in our direction. Hermione slaps him and Harry smirks beside me.

"Only if I get to kill Malfoy first," I whisper back.

"Deal. Where's that steak knife? I saw it a second ago—"

Clink clink clink!

Everyone quiets down and looks up at McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"Another year... gone," the headmaster begins. "And now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus. In fourth place, Gryffindor with three hundred and twelve points."

Light, scattered applause from the other houses. Hermione ducks her head down. Harry stares at his plate and Ron stares daggers at a laughing Malfoy.

"We did our best," I whisper to Harry. "Besides, since what happened with Voldemort is something that everyone knows about—"

"—Naturally," he grins.

"Naturally," I smile back. "I think we'll survive losing one time."

"I guess," my friend grumbles.

"...Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points," Dumbledore continues.

A little more clapping. The Hufflpuffs are disappointed, but there's one third-year in particular who seems ready to die.

"Who's that?" I ask Harry, pointing with my chin at the Hufflepuff table.

"Um... I... forget. It's like... um... Edward something... Edward Cullen?"

"Yeah, that sounds right," I agree.

"...Ravenclaw, with four hundred and twenty-six points."

Even more clapping this time, although some people wear looks of dread as they glance at the Slytherin table.

Malfoy's going to be insufferable next year, I think.

"And in first place with four hundred and seventy-two points, Slytherin House."

There's lots of cheering from everywhere but Gryffindor and I try not to vomit when Malfoy winks at me.

"Yes, yes, well done Slytherin, well done Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last-minute points to award."

Slytherin goes dead silent and the room is tense with anticipation.

"To Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool intellect when others were in great peril, thirty-five points."

Hermione grins widely as everyone claps for her.

"Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years... thirty-five points."

Everyone cheers for Ron and the twins thump him on the back.

"Third, to Miss (y/n) Weasley, for being one of the best junior potions masters Hogwarts has seen for a while now... thirty-five points!"

I blush as everyone claps for me. Hermione squeals, the twins grin at me, and Harry just smiles. It's kind of creepy.

"Harry?" I ask. "You're scaring me. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're brilliant!" Harry hugs me tightly and I feel my rib cage start to bruise.

"Harry— Oxygen—" I gasp out.

"Sorry!"

"Fourth, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

More cheers erupt from the students and as Hermione informs us of the five-point difference before a tie, I give Harry's ribs bruises to match mine.

"Ow!" he complains.

"I win."

"And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award fifteen points... to Neville Longbottom."

The entire hall bursts into noise as Neville sits on my right, completely dumbfounded.

"You were brilliant Neville!" I exclaim happily.

"Er, I was?"

"Yeah, you were mate," Harry agrees.

"Oh... cool."

A/N: Hi sorry I didn't forget about this book school just ✨sucks✨

Anyway, I'm alive and this is the second last chapter! Eep!

Hope you enjoyed!

Amy <3