Flames of Eternity // George Weasley

8. Quidditch

Song for this chapter ~ It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) by The 1975

As I sat down on the locker room benches while the rest of my team chattered away about how we were going to beat Gryffindor within the first five minutes of the game, the sounds of thunder roared outside, along with the loud pitter-patter of the rain as it hit the ground. As much as I loved the rain, I couldn't help but try to understand why Madam Hooch was allowing us to play today's match.

As I continued to focus on the sounds, trying to forget about how shattered I was over George, Adrian now sat down at the bench and began to place his arm around my bum.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as I quickly grabbed his arm out of the way.

"Just a little good luck before the game, that's all," he now said smirking as he placed his hand in the same spot again. "Anyways, you owe me after what Weasley did." I now quickly stood up from the bench giving him a look of disgust.

"Just because I'm mad at George, doesn't mean you're suddenly going to get whatever you want from me," I now said, standing my ground. "He shouldn't have done what he did, but you're no better than him." The rest of my team now began to watch our argument go down, as they were now sniggering at my words.

Adrian now stood back up with a mean look in his eyes, grabbing onto my wrist tightly.

"So I was right," he now spoke with a knowing look in his eyes. "You are fucking that ginger, aren't you?" As these words began to come out of his mouth, a figure in red and yellow Quidditch robes entered our locker room, looking down at a piece of parchment, not paying notice right away to what was going on.

"Flint, Madam Hooch says I need your signature on this. Instant penalties for bad mouthing—" Wood now stopped in his tracks as he looked up to Adrian's firm grip on my wrist; although Adrian paid no attention to him entering the room as he continued to slander me.

"It doesn't surprise me one bit, to be honest," Adrian continued. "The Weasley's are known to scrape for the bottom of the barrel...doesn't surprise me that he's gone for your Mudblood cunt." As the rest of the team let out stifled laughs—including Flint, Wood now spoke up as he approached Adrian and I.

"I'd suggest letting go, Pucey. Otherwise, I see nothing getting in my way from reporting you to your Head of House and having you kicked off your team." As Wood spoke, Adrian suddenly let go of the grip he had on my wrist, all while maintaining a glare with him.

"Let's get out now, we should be starting any minute." Flint now spoke, also glaring at Wood as he snatched the piece of parchment from his hand.

As the entire team now left the locker room to get onto the pitch, Wood and I now both stood in awkward silence, as I tried keeping in my tears.

"Thanks." I managed to mutter while avoiding his eye contact.

"No problem," he said, standing there with sympathy on his face. "Best of luck out there today." He said to me, while I quickly nodded my head at him and left onto the pitch.

The instant I set my foot onto the Quidditch pitch, I became drenched in rain, as it was now down pouring. Although I could hear loud cheers coming from the stands, as I looked up to them, I couldn't see a thing as the rain was coming down much too hard at this point. What I could see though, were the seven figures dressed in red who now began to approach the Slytherin team, the boy with crimson hair who now stood before me, drenched just as everyone else, as he held onto his bat. He looked at me as though he wished to say something, but after what I had come to learn that he'd done—despite Adrian being no less in the wrong as him, I couldn't look into his eyes.