Chapter 11

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Matilda didn't wake for a whole day and a half.

Sammy stayed by her best friend's side during the daylight and only left when Madam Pomfrey threatened to call on Professor Sprout to issue a detention. Other people came and went, such as Freya and Stacey, Ron and Hermione – though mostly because Harry was also in the Hospital Wing, as well as Angelina and Alicia.

It was Sunday night when her eyes fluttered open. The first thing she noticed was the temperature. It was freezing in the Hospital Wing, and all Matilda had covering her was a thin quilt and her pyjamas. She shivered beneath the sheets, rolling over to curl into herself. When she turned, however, she found a familiar face staring at her from the seat beside her bed.

"Weasley?" she whispered into the silent room, pushing up onto her elbows. "What're you doing here?"

Fred looked over his shoulder to ensure Madam Pomfrey's office was shut before pulling his chair closer. "I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up."

Matilda tilted her head and raised a brow, "Is that so?" A faint smirk tugged at her lips.

"Well, I knew you'd have questions about what happened," Fred said, playing it off, "and considering I was playing when you fell, I reckon I can answer them."

"Alright," Matilda hummed, fluffing up the pillow behind her and sitting against it. "How long have I been out?"

"It's Sunday night. Probably Monday morning by now," Fred answered, leaning his elbows on her mattress.

Matilda's face turned to one of surprise, "Really? Doesn't feel like it, that's for sure."

"Pomfrey said you were already ill before the match," he said. Matilda didn't say anything, so he continued. "I went and asked Cedric about your family emergency and he had no idea what I was talking about. Not only does that not add up to the story you told me, but you made me look like an idiot."

"It's not my fault you decided to be a sticky-beak and poke around my family business," Matilda hissed. "Besides, you've always been an idiot."

Fred didn't protest. "Where were you Friday night? Where'd you go?"

"I can't tell you, Weasley," Matilda said, averting her gaze to the empty bed across from her. "It's a need-to-know-basis type of thing."

"Then I need to know," he insisted, leaning forward. "Come on, you can tell me."

"I don't have to tell you anything," Matilda argued.

Fred pouted and clasped his hands together, "Please?"

Matilda lifted her hand and pushed his head away, "You're such a loser. Fred Weasley, begging to know the secrets of an irrelevant student."

"Well, that's where you're wrong," Fred stated, looking into her eyes. "I don't find you irrelevant at all."

"You flatter me, Weasley," Matilda laughed, shaking her head.

"I'm being serious!" Fred persisted, throwing his hands in the air.

Matilda placed her index finger to her lips and shushed him. "Could you be any louder?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"No."

"You sure? I can if you–"

"Don't you dare."

"You're no fun."

"I can be."

"I don't believe it."

Matilda glared at Fred while his mouth formed a mischievous grin. This time, Matilda wasn't repulsed by the grin. Instead, she actually felt happy seeing it. The moment that thought registered in her brain, Matilda clenched her jaw. What was wrong with her?!

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