HIS CHOSEN GIRL [MAJOR EDITING/REWRITING]

second year ➤damn pixies

HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter thirty two-damn pixies
[Your P.O.V]
☟ ☟ ☟

I really can't believe that Harry still keeps that crystal around with him, nevertheless to say that it's his good luck charm. I can't help but to smile at the fact and wonder if he knows that the crystal shines pink every time I think of him, Hermione had informed me over the summer that it's obvious that Harry and I share a connection stronger than the rest of us. I wonder if he thinks so too.

Ron groaning in frustration snaps me out of my thoughts. I glance at the poor boy who tapes up his wand hopelessly. He notices me staring and I flash him a sympathetic look. "Say it," he says. "I'm doomed."

Harry nods. "You're doomed."

I frown at the raven haired boy across from me. "Oh come on, couldn't you at least try to give him some hope?" Both Harry and Ron give me a look and I sigh. "Yeah okay, you're doomed."

"Hi Harry!"

I look up to see a small boy standing just in front of our table. He's got light blond hair, wide, wondrous eyes and he holds a large camera of which he holds just a few inches away from Harry's face. He presses a button and I'm immediately blinded by the flash as he takes a picture without warning.

"I better not be in that because I am not having a good hair day," I whisper to Hermione. "Bloody mandrake thought my hair was a vine."

I turn my attention back to the kid who stands, gaping at Harry. Surely he's a first year, what with his height, his voice, his fascination with Harry. He's completely in awe by the mere sight of the boy who lived, I find it rather endearing.

"I-I'm Colin Creevey," he stutters. "I'm in Gryffindor too."

"Oh, uh, hi Colin," Harry replies growing awkward as he often does when someone draws attention to him. "Nice to meet you."

A shrieking owl from a little ways away draws my attention to the roof as I wait for the owls to begin flying in. "Must be mail time," I announce.

"Ron, is that your owl?" Asks Dean Thomas from a few seats down the table.

I follow the boy's gaze to see a brown owl heading towards us. I bring my hands to my mouth when the owl lands straight in a bowl of chips and check to see if the bird is ok. The students around us who witnessed it begin to laugh but the annoyed look on Ron's face as he shakes his head in disappointment tells me that this is the norm for the Weasley family owl.

"Bloody birds a menace," Ron says as he snatches the envelope from the owl's beak before turning it over and reading the back.
His expression quickly grows from neutral to terrified, his eyes widening immediately. "Oh no."