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Ღ chapter fifteen ( spring flowers)
JULES AND HARRY were usually attached at the hip. It was more of a quartet, including Hermione and Ron, but it was rare for them to not be seen speaking to each other. But it seemed to the professors, that they had gotten into a fight. He would try to talk to her, and she would run off.
She'd been ditching classes, and her usually above average grades were now merely passable. Professor Lupin had pulled her aside after class to talk after she'd done a poor job with an essay on nocturnal creatures. She'd received outstanding grades all year, and those had fallen to mere acceptable level.
"Oh honestly Miss Valentine!" Professor McGonagall had huffed, when her mice had failed to turn into a snuffbox, and the girl had simply given up, instead doodling on a piece a paper. "I expect more from a witch as talented at Transfiguration as you."
Harry had gotten a Firebolt for Christmas, which has been subsequently taken by the faculty to test for any jinxes, for fear it had been sent by Sirius Black. Jules had laughed at the idea of her psychotic father walking into a Quidditch supply store and simply buying a Firebolt.
Jules had received a Firebolt of her own for Christmas as well, yet hers remained locked away at her home, for she was not yet on her house Quidditch team. There had not been any openings this year, but as the majority of the team would be leaving at the end of the year, she had her fingers crossed for making the team her fourth year. She'd battled the snow to train solo as a Chaser, after her mother had surprised her with the world's best broom, for the entire break.
The months were beginning to blur together, and they still were not speaking. January had wound to a close, as had February. She'd spent Valentine's Day with a box of chocolate, some cigarettes, and missing homework, after a Howler from her mother had set her head straight. Ravenclaw had played Slytherin, a week into term, and lost narrowly.
Harry had been sucked into more frequent practices from that point onwards, making it rather easy for Jules to avoid him. She only really spoke to Hermione, when the two were alone in Muggle Studies, and she ignored Harry's pleading eyes in every other class.
Ron and Hermione got into a big row the first week of March, and it seemed the quartet had splintered into two groups. The girls, and the guys. Ron alleged that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and Jules honestly thought that the rat might've been dead when the cat found him, and chose to ate him. Jules knew cats, having one of her own, and she knew that at least within the castle, some enchantment prevented their pets from killing one another.
"I don't hate you for something you cannot control," Hermione said softly, the two girls pressed into a corner of the library. "It was an invasion of your privacy for us to know, we were simply in the right place at the wrong time."
