Change of Heart

The Quidditch Revelation

Storming through the bustling corridors, my anger-fueled determination burning within, it became apparent that Draco Malfoy had adroitly eluded my smoldering wrath for several days. However, his escape was on the brink of conclusion. I pursued him unrelentingly, traversing the corridor until a gathering of Slytherins came into view. There he stood, the treacherous tawny-haired figure, his back unwittingly exposed to my approach. With calculated stealth, I closed the gap between us, my voice a sinister whisper in his ear, "Malfoy, you have nowhere to hide. You better follow me, now." His body tensed, and his fellow Slytherins gazed upon us with anxious eyes, but his compliance was the only viable option.

As I rounded the corner, Draco firmly in my grasp, I hurled him against the wall with an unrelenting shove, heedless of any onlookers in the hallway – my sole intention was to inflict humiliation upon him. My voice dripped with menace as I demanded, "Did you spill the truth to your cronies, Draco? Did you admit you set me up?" My glare bore into him, forcing him to avert his gaze towards the floor. "Explain yourself for this treachery," I pressed, my violent disposition seething beneath the surface.

He finally met my gaze with that infuriating sneer plastered on his face. "Well, I thought it'd be a delightful little game for you, Warwick. You do enjoy games, don't you?" His arrogant smirk sent waves of fury coursing through me, tempting me to unleash violence upon him. Unable to contain the boiling rage any longer, I ensnared him beneath my forearm, ensuring it inflicted excruciating pain.

"Cross me again, Malfoy, and I'll ensure you never see the light of day again. Do you understand?" I demanded, his gasp serving as an adequate response. I released my grip, allowing him to draw a breath, his face an unnatural shade of red. "Now, let's head to breakfast. You must be famished, just as I am," I remarked with a seemingly sweet demeanor, clapping my hands together in a chilling display of contrast.

Entering the Great Hall, I bid my farewells to the apprehensive Slytherin, knowing that his friends would relentlessly question him about our encounter. Finding my seat at my own table, I piled food onto my plate, enjoying the opportunity to irritate Granger. She shot me a disgusted look as I heaped a generous portion of baked beans onto my dish – who would have thought these beans were so delectable? It was a sharper contrast than previous mornings at the breakfast table, likely because she was still unsettled from our midnight escapade throughout the castle.

"Good morning to you too, Miss Granger," I snickered, offering the spoon I used to scoop up my beans which was only received with her going back to reading her book, completely ignoring me. "Fine, I'll just take that as a no, then."

Fortunately, the owls descended into the hall to deliver the morning post and distracted us all from that awkward encounter. Two long, large parcels, which were being carried by six owls each, caught everyone's attention in the dining hall as who would order such large parcels? I was surprised when one of the said parcels plummeted from the sky onto my lap, almost knocking my breakfast off the table. Harry was not as lucky as the package knocked his bacon to the floor. Almost at the exact same time, we went for the note tied at the end of the parcel, and it read:

𝒟𝒪 𝒩𝒪𝒯 𝒪𝒫ℰ𝒩 𝒯ℋℰ 𝒫𝒜ℛ𝒞ℰℒ 𝒜𝒯 𝒯ℋℰ 𝒯𝒜ℬℒℰ. ℐ𝓉 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓃ℯ𝓌 𝒩𝒾𝓂𝒷𝓊𝓈 𝒯𝓌ℴ 𝒯𝒽ℴ𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓃𝒹, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 ℐ 𝒹ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎𝒷ℴ𝒹𝓎 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓎ℴ𝓊'𝓋ℯ ℊℴ𝓉 𝒶 𝒷𝓇ℴℴ𝓂𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓀, ℴ𝓇 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎'𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 ℴ𝓃ℯ. 𝒪𝓁𝒾𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝒲ℴℴ𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓂ℯℯ𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓉ℴ𝓃𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉 ℴ𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝒹𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓉 𝓈ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃 ℴ'𝒸𝓁ℴ𝒸𝓀 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝓈ℯ𝓈𝓈𝒾ℴ𝓃.