14 | A Grim Meeting

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN: A GRIM MEETING

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Weeks later, Violet was slouched on the floor by the Common Room fireplace, trying to absorb the words in her Potions textbook by osmosis.

"This isn't working," she said, words muffled. Her face was pressed mournfully into the pages. "Why can't I be a semi-permeable membrane?"

"A semi-what?" asked Ron, baffled.

Violet picked her head up, pursing her lips. "I forgot you guys don't continue Muggle education," she said dryly, before sighing dramatically and rolling onto her back. "Oh, to be a Wizard who only knows basic maths."

Ron was getting ready to argue that he did in fact know more than she thought, when the Common Room portrait opened and in streamed the Gryffindor Quidditch team, cold and stiff and shivering to the bone. The room was buzzing with excited chatter, and Harry, the talented Gryffindor Seeker, waddled over to the wrestling group by the fireplace with a bewildered tug to his stiff brows.

"What are they fighting about?" he quizzed Hermione, dropping onto the seat beside her like a sack of bones. He was incredibly exhausted after practising in the cold; Harry was convinced he got more of a workout from shivering than he got time to practice some moves on his Nimbus.

Hermione dragged her eyes from her Arithmancy textbook to glance in front of her; Violet was holding Ron in a chokehold, and Ron had just decided to give up in fighting back and laid there with dead eyes. She snorted, and looked back at her book.

"No clue. How was practice?"

"'S'alright," he shrugged, "Wood's gone a bit mental though, he really wants that win. Violet," he said suddenly, "I think he's dying?"

"Lovely," she replied brightly, "we can decompose together!"

Ron suddenly flew out of her arms, and punched her in the jaw. "Ha! Got you."

"Did you just punch me, Ronald?"

"What're you gonna do about it?" he sneered. "You tried choking me first!"

"Wait 'till my father hears about this," she hissed. There was a second of tense eye-contact, before the two burst into laughter. "Who am I kidding, he doesn't give a shit."

"He'd probably take more points from Gryffindor if you told him."

Violet snorted, "That's an understatement." She glanced at Harry, before reaching out and grabbing him by the arm. "You're shaking like a bloody leaf; come here and sit by the fire." And then, because she really couldn't help herself, she asked, "Is Quidditch really worth the cold?"

"I can't believe you asked that," lamented Ron, shaking his head. "We definitely need to get you on a broom."

"Or at least watch a match," added Harry, sinking so close to the crackling, flaming grate that Violet had to drag him back a little. "It's a lot more fun when you're there."

"And when I get hit with a face full of a misguided bludger, what then?" she challenged. "How will you compensate my poor nose? It's a goddamn blessing I didn't end up with my dad's nose, you know; if it ever got damaged beyond repair..."

"We'd never let that happen," said George's booming voice, and a hand clapped down on Violet's head. She looked up to see George winking at her, before he turned to his brother. "Right, Fred?"

Fred smiled innocently. Violet inched away from him. The faces around them broke out into grins, and Ron spoke up. "We'll compensate you with stuff from Honeydukes, since Madam Pomfrey would fix you up quickly anyway."

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 09, 2023 ⏰

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