Cast yourself (you are the spell)

Chapter 45

The dim lights flicker on.

"Oh." Hope sucks in a ragged breath, willing her heart to stop beating so quickly. She thinks that it might find a way to pound itself out of her chest if Josie keeps this up. "Sorry."

The muggleborn does not look very bothered, if only a little amused. She simply blinks, her eyes big with something akin to concern. "Hey, what happened?"

What kind of question is that? Josie had been there to see everything at the game. Surely, that included seeing Hope lose and seek out a fight with Gryffindor.

Is the other girl just searching for more information so she can go running back to her insolent friends and tell them everything?

The pureblood drops her eyes down as the brunette's hand drifts down her arm and laces her fingers with Hope's gloved ones. The gesture should be soothing, but Hope feels the touch like a burn instead.

She pulls away, if only to put the flames out.

Hope pretends not to see the flash of hurt on the other girl's face. If she also pretends that it doesn't reflect on her own, no one has to know that but her.

"Nothing." She reaches for the handle of the door, turning her back on Josie. Why does she suddenly feel so upset? So...angry? "I-I have to go."

The muggleborn pulls her back before she can even turn the handle. "Wait—"

"Really, Josie." Hope sighs tiredly. She should be with her team. The least she can do is clean up the mess she made. In more ways than one. "I don't have time for this."

Again, when she tries for the handle, Josie stops her.

"We have time," she says, the knit of her eyebrows beyond worried. Hope almost feels bad. She almost apologizes. Yet, sorry doesn't come so freely in times like this. "Are you okay?"

Hope actually laughs. Josie has to be joking.

"Am I okay?" Hope repeats, numb and steaming. She imagines that smoke is blowing out of her ears. She imagines that she can shoot lasers out of her eyes. She imagines that the blood in her body has turned to molten lava. "Is that an honest question?"

Josie cocks her head to the side and stares back, surprised at the unexpected outburst.

Her obliviousness proves too much for Hope to handle. She whirls on Josie, her eyes on fire.

"I have to spend the rest of my day cleaning up the quidditch pitch for punishment while your Gryffindor besties get off scot free!"

The second the words come out of Hope's mouth, she longs to take them back. Such a feat isn't very easy, though, and she allows her regret to suffocate the space between them.

"Stop." Josie shakes her head with disbelief, but her words are firm. "You're mad that you lost the game and now you're trying to take it out on me."

Hope shakes her head, too. She finds herself itching to start another fight. "No. You stop."

"Maybe I'm not mad at the game," she snaps, her lips curled into an insufferable sneer. Habits are hard to drop. "Maybe I am mad at you. Maybe we would have won if you hadn't been distracting me. Maybe none of this would have happened if you hadn't shown up."

Josie laughs wetly, her eyes like glass. Hearing the pain in her voice when she speaks makes Hope's lungs rattle painfully. "Oh, so I'm a distraction now?

No. No. Of course not.

"Yes."

Two hands push against her shoulders, the girl across from her beyond livid.