Charms. | h. potter

002

As the rain pours harder and their train compartment gets fuller, the topic of conversation switches to the Quidditch World Cup. Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom we're engaging with the conversation as Cameron listened intently. Seamus' green Ireland rosette continues to squeak the names of the players, Hermione had sunk into a book about half an hour ago and Neville and Cameron both listen jealously to the conversation.

"Gran didn't want to go," he laments after Dean and Seamus had left. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"I was in Bulgaria," Cameron sighs, still tucked into Harry's side. "I would've loved to be there, but my dad would've lectured me on prior commitments. Turns out half of my cousins went to go and see it anyway."

"It was great," Ron nods. "Look at this!" He pulls out a miniature figure of Krum and Cameron snorts.

"You guys fawn over him for his Quidditch ability and my dad fawns over him for his Charms ability... when will this torture end?" she says dramatically. Ron tips the figure into Neville's hand with a grin.

"Oh, wow!"

"We saw him right up close, as well! We were in the Top Box—"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley." The voice of Draco Malfoy makes Cameron think back to pushing him off a glacier.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," Harry says coolly, hardly moving an inch apart from a raised eyebrow.

"Weasley, what is that?" Malfoy asks, pointing towards the robes on Pigwideon's cage. The sleeve of his dress robes is hanging off the edge. Ron tries to grab them but Malfoy is quicker and he seizes the sleeve and holds them up. "Look at this! Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these were you? I mean — they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety..."

"Eat dung Malfoy," Ron snaps before dragging the robes out of Malfoy's hands, his cheeks flushing almost the same shade.

"So... going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know... you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."

Cameron's heart sinks as she realises that they really don't know what's happening. Her mouth starts moving before she can stop it. "Are you thinking of entering, Malfoy? I'd like to see you go up against some of the Durmstrang boys. They're a lot bigger than your skinny arse. You're a light breakfast for them," she snaps.

"I can't imagine you entering, Aldridge. It's be a sham if they let people with a mother like your's enter," he sneers.

"At least my mother loves me. From what I heard, Narcissa looks like she wants to die every time she's seen with you," she retorts. Draco flushes slightly and ignores her last comment.

"What about you, Potter? I'm sure you wouldn't miss this chance to show off?"

"Either explain what you're talking about or go away, Malfoy!" Hermione snaps from behind her book. A gleeful smile spreads over Malfoy's face as he realises that only Cameron knows.

"Don't tell me you don't know! You've got a father and a brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago... heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always been associated with the top people at the Ministry... Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley... yes... they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him..."