The Renegades

Chapter 22 : Slytherin vs Ravenclaw

"Seventy-three? Seriously?" Sebastian inquired, leaning over Penelope's shoulder.

After the new term began, Professor Rowan handed back their papers on non-verbal spells one day as class was letting out. Penelope was aware that her performance hadn't been satisfactory; the past few weeks had been so overwhelming that anything unrelated to ancient magic had slipped her mind, exacerbated by the persistent fog in her memories. Since fainting a week ago, she had been feeling weak, but it hadn't happened again. She hadn't shared this with anyone and remained uncertain if she ever would.

Sebastian chuckled and playfully tapped the parchment. "Looks like someone needs a refresher in non-verbal spells. Maybe you should consider channeling some of that power of yours into your grades."

Penelope forced a smile, avoiding Sebastian's gaze. "Just an off day, I suppose."

"An off day? More like an off semester, it seems," Sebastian teased. "What's going on?"

"Just tired."

Sebastian's teasing expression softened.

"You've been working yourself to the bone, haven't you?" he leaned it, conspiratorially.

A surge of anger pulsed through her. How could he be so obtuse? It was blatantly obvious that her exhaustion was linked to the demands of ancient magic. She was putting herself through all of this for him. She had been silently carrying the weight of these demanding practices, striving to meet his expectations. The anger welled up as she felt he didn't quite appreciate her sacrifices.

"I'm not some fragile little thing that falls apart because of a bad grade. Perhaps I'm just tired of carrying the weight of everyone's expectations, including yours!" she snapped.

Sebastian's expression shifted from confusion to concern. "I didn't mean to put that kind of pressure on you. I thought we were in this together."

Penelope scoffed, her frustration reaching a boiling point. "Together? I'm the one who's carrying all the weight. Without me, there's no hope at all."

She tried to rein in her emotions, but the cathartic release felt too good to resist.

"I'm putting myself through all of this for you, for Anne. Yet, all you do is make stupid jokes, and then suddenly act concerned when your own mess starts affecting me!"

His eyes widened, realizing the gravity of her words. "Pen, I didn't—"

"Save it," she interrupted, her tone sharp. "I need some space right now. Just let me be. And don't call me Pen."

She stormed out of the room, not sparing a glance for the first year she unintentionally knocked down. On the second Saturday of January, Penelope felt her nerves intensifying. Imelda had emphasised to the Quidditch team that underestimating Ravenclaw was a mistake. While their seeker might not have been outstanding, the rest of the team was undeniably strong. Since then, Penelope hadn't snapped at anyone, but she still felt on edge. Isidora hadn't provided any explanations, leaving Penelope in the dark about the source of her feelings.

The weather on that particular day was dismal, with intermittent showers of rain cascading down onto the grounds. Imelda had hoped for a clearing, but it hadn't come. They were already soaked by the time they mounted their brooms, taking flight the moment Madam Kogawa blew the whistle.

To Penelope's horror, the visibility was so low that she could barely distinguish her own teammates in the pouring rain. Although the Impervius charm on her goggles effectively repelled water, she still couldn't see more than six feet in front of her.

Undeterred by the challenging weather conditions, Penelope soared through the air, desperately scanning the pitch for any sign of the golden snitch. The rain pelted against her, and the wind whipped through her drenched robes, making it difficult to maintain control of her broom.