Hell Heart ❤️‍🔥 Harry Potter [1]

ii. Doom and Gloom

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ii. Doom and Gloom
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THE DULL BURN in her chest stubbornly flickers away. Her friends are talking animatedly, but she can't stop herself from looking around the Great Hall, with an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. The Hufflepuff table has a dark cloud lingering over it, and she can make out the seventh years from where she is. They're all silent and there's an empty space between two of them. Thea sighs heavily, wishing there was a way to get everyone to believe the truth about Cedric's death. It's the least he deserves.

As her gaze moves around the room and back to her own table, she can make out Harry, Ron and Hermione a few people down. Then Harry's looking at her and she wants to run away, but she tries to give him a little smile instead. He returns it with a narrowing of his eyes and a fierce glare, before turning back to his friends.

Brilliant.

"You alright, tiger?"

Thea's head snaps to the voice that sounds from the person sat on her right.

She smiles a little at Dean Thomas, who's looking at her a little concerned. Then she sighs.

"No. I hate my life."

"Why's that?" Dean asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Harry just gave me a shitty look." She glances at her lap and then grimaces, looking back at Dean. "He hates me."

"Why don't you just talk to him?" Dean says. "You don't believe in any of that crap that your mum's writing anyway, so he has no reason to hate you."

Thea's face flushes a little. "Because...they're scary."

Dean sniggers.

"Scary? Harry, Ron and Hermione? You're being daft now."

Thea rolls her eyes. "I'm not. It just makes me nervous, OK! What do I even say? I bumped into him when I was getting off the train earlier, and I just completely froze! I had my chance, and I totally blew it!"

"Just explain that you don't believe any of what your mum's writing in the Prophet," Dean says, a little too loudly for Thea's liking. She doesn't want Harry to think she's talking about him and then think she's obsessed.

"Stop talking so loud," Thea snaps.

"I'm not!" Dean says. Loudly.

"You are fairly loud," Seamus Finnegan leans across Clare to talk to them.

"You two are fairly wrong," Dean retorts, folding his arms across his chest.

"In Potions last year, Snape put us three all on separate tables because we talk too much," Seamus says. "And I could still hear you. From the other side of the room."

"I could still hear you, Dean." Thea mutters when the two boys stare intently at her to back them up.

Dean frowns. "We've been back for not even an hour and you're both ganging up on me."

"We're not, it's just the truth," Seamus says.

Thea frowns then. There appears to be a tension pulling at the air between the two boys that's so subtle, she barely noticed it before. She's about to ask them both about their summer holidays to change the subject when a loud burst of song interrupts all of the chatter in the room.