Change of Heart

Quidditch Trials and Midnight Duels

Thursday morning's cereal tasted practically bland, and my lack of appetite only exacerbated my foul mood. The sky outside mirrored my disposition, its grayness casting a cold, gloomy hue across the Great Hall. Even the sun's feeble rays streaming through the stained glass windows felt chilly on my back, making me fear that this dismal start might foretell a day filled with misfortune.

In an attempt to muster some energy for the long day ahead, I refilled my bowl, glancing at my timetable with a hint of resignation. Another lackluster spoonful of cereal barely managed to coax my taste buds to life. Soon enough, the hall was abuzz with the arrival of owls, gracefully soaring through the air as they distributed parcels and letters to their intended recipients.

Among the bustling crowd, my attention was drawn to Elara, the familiar sable-coloured envelope adorned with a crimson wax seal hanging from her talon. I relieved her of her precious cargo, offering the customary treat of sausage and buttered toast from the tray before tenderly stroking her feathers. "Thanks for the letter, safe travels," I murmured, offering a gentle caress to her sleek beak as I launched her skyward.

My fingers brushed over the envelope's elegant, golden script, spelling out my name. I tucked it away in my pocket, resolving to summon the courage to read it later in the day.

Just as I was about to scoop up another spoonful of cereal, a sizable barn owl swooped past my face, its large wings nearly tipping my cereal bowl into my lap. Tied to its foot, there dangled a brown paper box, secured with a slender piece of string. Longbottom's eyes darted to the note attached as the parcel landed in his hands. With haste, he unraveled the wrapping paper, unveiling a vibrant red cardboard box adorned with a gleaming golden R embossed on the lid.

Within the box lay an even smaller glass orb, no larger than a marble, filled with ethereal, milk-white smoke. "It's a Rememball!" Longbottom exclaimed, holding it aloft beneath the morning sun for a closer inspection. "Gran knows I forget things all the time—this little marvel reminds you if you've forgotten something. You hold it like this, and if it turns red—" His enthusiasm waned as he gently released his grip on the Rememball, watching as its hue transformed into a vibrant scarlet red.

"You've forgotten something..." pointed out Granger as she took an exaggerated sip from her tea-cup. Longbottom raised his arm a bit higher into the air as he tightened his grip around the marble again, scrunching his eyes tightly to try remember what he had forgotten. I didn't know how he thought he'd be successful; it would be a miracle for someone like Longbottom to remember something he has forgotten. But it didn't stop him from trying, distracted from his surroundings. Draco walked past, taking a sudden interest in the glistening item in Longbottom's hand before ripping it from his grip.

"Give it back, Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed, standing up suddenly and slamming his hand into the table bellow. Draco snickered, looking between Crabbe, Goyle and I as he threw the glass ball up and down, higher and higher with every throw. Suddenly, he threw it even higher over the breakfast table, intending for Potter to not catch it. But as if it were second nature to Potter, he grabbed it mid air, pulling it into his chest. A harsh sneer appeared on Malfoy's face as he noticed there was no glass spreading across the table and the sudden wails of Longbottom. He nodded towards the Slytherin breakfast table, realising there was no more games to be had at the Gryffindor table.

While Hermione soon took another rather annoying and obnoxious sip from her teacup, she began to review her timetable as well as Harry's, who sat beside her, "Look", she pointed towards a period on Harry's parchment. "We have flying lessons today," she said with a growing frown. Hermione Granger clearly harbored a strong aversion to the idea of broomstick flying, openly acknowledging her inability to apply her usual studious approach to improve her skills. In stark contrast, I felt a surge of excitement coursing through me. I had been soaring on broomsticks since the tender age of infancy, engaging in countless thrilling matches with my grandfather during summer holidays.