Weeks had already passed since our first ball. Daphne, Tracey, and I had originally planned for an Ostara Ball, but unfortunately, we got so swamped with deadlines, tests, and homework assignments that we barely made it out alive to the end of the month.
I knew Fred and George's birthdays were coming up on the first day of April, so I did my absolute best to avoid Ivy Law. I just didn't want to participate in another potion-prank, especially one orchestrated by the tact-less Ivy Law. The last prank I knew she pulled was poisoning nearly all of Slytherin house, which wasn't even remotely funny. I still cringed over having defended her to James and convincing him not to rat her out. I was beginning to find her very annoying as she repeatedly chased me into the Great Hall, pestering me for help on pranking the Weasley twins on their birthday.
I had better things to brew. Although, perhaps not Felix Felicis for now. It would take me six months to brew Felix Felicis, but we only had three months left of school. I would have to leave that ambitious plan of mine to the next school year, where I'd even have to stay at Hogwarts for the winter holiday break.
Before I knew it, we had already passed the first of April, and now Ivy Law was leaving me alone. I had no clue if she did end up pranking George and Fred in the end, but I didn't bother finding out because I simply did not care.
Easter break came around, and all we were busy doing as we anticipated the next quidditch match was more homework. There was something about the months of March and April that made professors love to assign homework. It was terribly time-consuming and tiring. I did, instead, end up following Malfoy's suggestion and drank some Wide-eye potion to stay awake in class, but I found that after a few too many days of doing that, my brain was experiencing some kind of "jet-lag" as Amirah called it.
"I think you're losing your mind," Tracey said one day when we were working on Arithmethic tables with Hermione.
"No. I'm fine. I just need to, uhm, count, this, uh, numbered... row," I managed to say through the fog in my brain.
"Good grief, Maeve. Just go to bed," Hermione said. She was still going strong, working on the assignment as if nothing was easier for her than taking four extracurriculars for no reason.
"How are you even, ehm, handling, all of the, uh, workload... that you've got?" I asked, my eyes absolutely not closing despite how much they were burning from craving a blink after so many hours. Turns out the potion was called "Wide-eye potion" for literal reasons.
"I dropped Divination, so now I've got more time to work on my other extra subjects," she explained as she scribbled away with her quill.
"Why am I the only sane one here?" Tracey said, though mostly to herself.
"Because you're Tracey," I said, thinking that was brilliant.
"Wow, that makes so much sense, Maeve. Please, just go to bed," Tracey practically begged. "Hermione, do you mind if I drag her to bed?"
"Go ahead. Let's meet up tomorrow night to finish the next part," Hermione said, already pulling out some other assignment from her bag. "I'll just work on something else in the meantime."
"How is she even alive?" Tracey asked me, even though I could barely form a coherent sentence, let alone thought.
Next thing I knew, it was Saturday early morning. Apparently, I was so tired that I slept through Friday. At least, that's what Tracey told me, but I suspected she gave me a really really strong sleeping draught on Thursday night to help me fall asleep (my eyes were refusing to close at first because of the effect of the Wide-eye potion).
I wondered how I even got away with not going to class for a whole day but decided it didn't matter in the end because today was the freaking Gryffindor versus Slytherin match, at last. Obviously, I would be rooting for Slytherin, but I was still excited to be seeing my Gryffindor friends and acquaintances play.
The rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin today, however, was unmatched. I could practically feel the animosity radiating through the air as I entered the Great Hall that morning for breakfast. And it was clear who supported who. Ravenclaws (except for Amirah, obviously) and Hufflepuffs decided to support Gryffindors while we, Slytherins, were once again left by ourselves. Sure, Slytherins had a knack for making everyone else our enemy, but it still felt unfair.
When the Gryffindor quidditch team entered the Great Hall that morning, students from every house (except Slytherin) cheered. Loudly. But when the Slytherin quidditch team entered earlier, no one cared. Yes, I wasn't a fan of Flint and Malfoy and many other Slytherins on the quidditch team, but the favoritism this school had towards Gryffindors simply irked me today.
Malfoy's face was as pale as milk when the Gryffindor quidditch team got seated at their table. He was clearly nervous about the match against Gryffindor — especially after it had been postponed for so long because of his "broken" arm — and the whole school showing their full support for the opposite team definitely did not help.
I walked by Malfoy's seat after I finished breakfast and wished him, "Good luck," before scurrying out of the Great Hall. I was quick with it because I did not need Hermione and friends noticing me expressing words of encouragement to Malfoy. Sure, I also could've just kept my mouth shut, but he looked so miserable, I had to say something.
I didn't bother looking behind me when I exited the Great Hall either.
After breakfast, students filed into the quidditch pitch for the long-awaited Gryffindor versus Slytherin match. I sat with Daphne and Tracey while the S4 sat behind us with Amirah. The weather was perfect for playing today: no rain, not too cold, not too hot, and not too windy either. The Slytherin team looked like a joke with their Nimbus Two-Thousand-Ones next to Harry Potter's Firebolt. I wondered how the Hell Malfoy was supposed to beat Potter if Harry had a much better broom. Sure, Malfoy's broom was better than Harry's teammates, but a Firebolt? Someone was playing a joke on us. Why couldn't the school just provide everyone with the same kind of broom so that the games could always be even? It hardly seemed fair for everyone to have a different broom.
Soon enough, the quidditch match began, and as always, Lee Jordan, the Gryffindor commentator, was extremely biased towards his own house (I didn't exactly blame him because who wouldn't be?).
Not even one minute into the game, the Gryffindor chasers managed to score against Slytherin. Evidently frustrated, Flint "accidentally" smashed into Angelina, crying, "Sorry, didn't see her!" as soon as the crowd booed.
Just then, Fred Weasley chucked his bludger bat onto the back of Flint's head. Flint smashed his head onto his broom handle and began bleeding.
Brilliant start to the game, if I did say so, myself. But Madam Hooch clearly didn't view this as brilliant as she gave a penalty shot to both teams.
The game went on and Gryffindor was crushing Slytherin.
"THIRTY–ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING—"
"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way—!"
"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"
Just then, Harry zoomed off into the Slytherin end of the pit, surely having just spotted the snitch. Malfoy quickly sped off after him, but Harry's Firebolt was too fast to be caught up with properly.
The Slytherin beaters, however, were cornering Harry, hitting the two bludgers at him and narrowing missing him every time. Then — Harry abruptly raised his Firebolt upwards, too last second for Derrick and Bole to follow suit, so the two beaters crashed into each other.
It was turning into the dirtiest game I had ever witnessed. Bole hit Alicia Spinnet with his club and pretended he thought she was a Bludger. Then, George elbowed him in the face in retaliation, awarding both teams, yet again, a penalty from Madam Hooch. The more Gryffindor scored, the more frustrated and enraged Slytherin got.
And then, it happened. Harry spotted the snitch and began speeding towards it, until — he was slowing down. Malfoy was panting with effort as he held onto the back-end of Harry's Firebolt.
"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched, flying up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his broom.
"YOU CHEATING SCUM! YOU FILTHY CHEATING B—"
Professor McGonagall was so outraged about the match that she didn't even tell Lee Jordan off.
My heart sank deeper into my chest as the match went on. I initially wanted Slytherin to win out of pride for my house, but after that stunt Malfoy just pulled, I needed Gryffindor to win — even if it meant Slytherin losing the house cup.
Soon after Angelina Johnson made another score, Malfoy soared down to the bottom of the pitch, surely having spotted the snitch. I thought it would be over for Gryffindor, but sure enough, Harry's Firebolt caught up to Malfoy and he — jumped! Harry actually jumped out of his broom, grabbing the snitch as he dove down to the ground. Thankfully, he was close enough to the ground that he couldn't have broken any bones.
Gryffindor had officially won the quidditch cup, and Malfoy was fuming. The Gryffindors soon left their stands and flooded the quidditch pitch, tackling the quidditch players with praise, hugs and cries of excitement and glee. Meanwhile, the Slytherins were lamenting on the stands as the Slytherin quidditch team stormed angrily to the changing rooms.
Someone pushed me forward to the ledge of stand as they barged through behind me.
"Hey!" I called with irritation as I spun around. Millicent barely even glanced at me as she kept barging through the next person beside me.
"Watch it!" Daphne yelled as she turned around too. "Hey, Millicent! Where are you going?"
"We're going to cheer up the Slytherin team," Pansy Parkinson said right behind her. She was right in that the Slytherin Quidditch team needed cheering up right now. Miles and Adri must be losing their minds in the changing room right about now.
"We'll join you," I decided spontaneously.
"Really?" Tracey asked in surpise.
"Are you sure you want to?" Daphne added.
"What?"
"Well, Malfoy..." Daphne said, her brow furrowed in concern.
"I'm not going for Malfoy. I'm going for Bletchley and Pucey," I told them. "Besides, Malfoy probably won't notice me anyway since Pansy will be there."
"I do have that effect on people," Pansy piped in confidently.
"See? Even she agrees with me," I said, but Daphne's facial expression melted into a frown.
"But this morning at breakfast, he —"
"Yawn. Let's stop wasting time and go," Pansy said. She grabbed my arm and began dragging me away. Instinctively, I yanked at Daphne and Tracey's sleeves to urge them to follow.
"I know you two have been acting a lot more civilized with each other, recently, Maeve, but Malfoy was really upset, this morning —" Daphne began as we paced through the crowd of students leaving the stands to get back to the castle.
"Malfoy was fuming," Tracey emphasized.
"He was fuming because he saw how much support the Gryffindors were getting, not to mention Potter's firebolt," I reasoned.
"No, Maeve. You weren't there. You were sat with the S4. You don't know what he was saying," Daphne insisted.
"Doesn't matter what he was saying. Pansy will distract him while I'll go ahead and cheer up my brother's friends."
"He will blame you for losing the match, Maeve. You shouldn't —" Tracey said. We were now only a few feet away from the changing rooms. Millicent was probably already inside.
Before Daphne or Tracey could say another word to discourage me from entering, I grabbed Pansy's arm and jogged with her towards the changing rooms.
It was exactly as I had last seen it when I was reserve seeker, once upon a time ago. The lockers were shared between the genders, but the changing cabins were individual. Of course, the boys on the team didn't bother going into the changing cabins and just changed in front of everybody else. I could only spot Miles for now and not Adri.
Before I could muster as much as a "hey" to Miles, I was pushed against a locker by a snarling Draco Malfoy. Daphne and Tracey gasped behind me.
"You cost us the game!" he growled in my face. Disgruntled, I forcefully threw his hand off me. He made no effort to grab me again as I was already very much stuck between him and the locker.
"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" I responded with outraged perplexion. Everyone else in the changing room got very quiet and observed Malfoy and I's suddenly very heated exchange.
"You stole my Liquid Luck, didn't you? We would have won, but you stole it and gave it to those Gryffindors—"
"I did no such thing! It's not my fault you lost it. Besides, it is illegal to use Liquid Luck in competitive games. And I was rooting for Slytherin, you know? Why the bloody Hell would I give it to the Gryffindors — admit it, Malfoy. You got beat fair and square."
Malfoy groaned in frustration as if it deeply bothered him that I made so much sense. He pulled away from me and cursed. Was that what Daphne and Tracey tried to warn me about? Had Malfoy thrown a little tantrum over this at breakfast, and I, protected by the presence of the S4, hadn't been confronted about his little predicamment yet? Did me wishing him good luck at breakfast before departing leave him fumbling with even more anger?
"Then, where in Salazar's name is it?!" he demanded.
"Well, I don't know! Maybe you misplaced it. That's not my fault!"
"Those Gryffindors, then... They stole it! We'll have to report it to Snape," he decided.
"And tell him what? That you were planning on using it, instead? You know it was probably stolen from him in the first place, right? Whoever stole it from you did you a favour. Snape would kill you if he ever found out you had a Felix Felicis potion."
Malfoy cursed again. I rarely saw him lose his poise like this before. I wondered why this whole situation bothered him so much. It was just a stupid quidditch game, was it not?
"So, am I free to go? I didn't come here to get assaulted, I —"
"Assaulted? Really, Blackwood? I barely even touched you," Malfoy scoffed.
"You pushed me against a locker. I'd say that's considered assault."
"Fine, I may have nudged you," he reasoned. I scoffed and laughed in surprise.
"Nudged me? Okay, now you're just being funny," I said. "Anyway, I didn't come here to see you — Uh, Miles, hey."
I quickly spotted him by a locker, quietly adjusting his clothes.
"Hey, er, Maeve," he said rather awkwardly. He evidently overheard my entire exchange with Malfoy and was just polite enough not to mention it. So was everyone else, actually, as the other members of the quidditch team went back to talking amongst each other. Malfoy kind of just shook his head and went back to his locker.
"Hope you're not feeling too terrible about the game — you played well," I said kindly to Miles. I glanced at wherever Malfoy had left, and he was now conversing with a crooning Pansy Parkinson. Barf. We really needed to get her to fall out of love with him.
"Oh, please, Maeve. I could barely block any of their scores. They destroyed us," Miles said, crestfallen.
"What? Oh, no. Don't blame yourself for that. Angelina is a really good chaser. Hard to compete with her, you know? Oh, and Alicia too, now that I mention it."
"Whatever, Miles sucks," Adri said, having suddenly materialized beside us. Her hair was wet: she must've showered very quickly just now.
"Shut up, Pucey," Miles said irritatingly. "You could barely score against Wood — nor could you even take the quaffle away from those Gryffindors chasers. Totally useless."
"Okay, so we both sucked. Big deal. We'll crush everyone next year, mark my words."
"Yeah, cause we'll find a better chaser to replace you."
"If that's the case, then we also need a replacement for our shitty keeper."
The two kept on bickering as if I were not there, and I suddenly found myself in the presence of Daphne and Tracey again.
"Why aren't they dating, again?" Tracey asked me, gesturing at Miles and Adri.
"Because Miles and my brother are totally in love," I said, only partially joking. I did always get the sense that my brother and Miles had more chemistry than Adri ever had with either of them. It wasn't necessarily frowned upon amongst wizard-kind for someone to be attracted to the same sex — unless they were the only heir to a pureblooded family (if you cared about blood status, that is) — but we did tend to automatically pair off the girls with the boys.
Probably not realizing that I meant it, Daphne and Tracey giggled next to me.
"We should get some lunch. I'm starving," Tracey said suddenly.
"Agreed, let's go," I said.
I sat with Daphne and Tracey at the Slytherin table. I hadn't checked up on the S4 since the quidditch match but they were seated not too far from us anyway. I would've suggested we sit with them, but the moment we sat down, Tracey begged me to let her fix my hair.
"Your braids look horrible," she said as she began undoing one with her wand.
"I thought they looked nice," Daphne offered when I looked offended. Daphne was wrong. My roots were overgrown and it looked horrendous, but I was still allowed to get offended when Tracey was being brutally honest with me.
"You don't know any better," Tracey told her, then she turned to me and said, "So, what kind of braids do you want, this time?"
"No braids. I can't keep up with them. Give me my natural hair again," I said. "I kind of miss having big hair."
"No problem," Tracey said cheerfully. She obviously was okay with any answer I gave her, though I had a feeling that after a month, she would tell me she felt like braiding my hair again.
And sure enough, Tracey spent a whole hour getting my braids undone. When she finished, she told me to shower to give my hair a nice cleanse. I scurried to our dormroom as soon as I could to do just that.
After showering, I spent another hour detangling my hair in front of the mirror in our dormroom. By the time I was done, Millicent traipsed in, snickering.
"What's so funny?" I asked her.
"Malfoy thinks those Gryffindors stole his Liquid Luck," she said as she sat on her bed.
"Ah. You stole it, didn't you?" I said, surprised that I hadn't predicted it earlier.
"I would make better use of the potion than him," she said simply.
I laughed before saying, "Did it make you feel good to see Malfoy accusing me and getting upset with me over this?"
"It did," she said, completely unbothered.
"So, why are you telling me this, now? What makes you think I won't just tell Malfoy it was you?" I asked.
"Because you don't really care."
I supposed she was right. I didn't care that much. Not enough to tell anyone, at least — except for maybe Daphne and Tracey who also wouldn't tell Malfoy. Maybe I would've cared if Malfoy still believed that I took the vial, but I had managed to clear my name without shifting the blame on someone else.
"Fair enough. Anyway, what are you planning on using the potion for?" I asked. Despite her antagonistic personality, I found it hard to despise Millicent. I mean, at least she sort of treated everybody equally. Equally terribly but still equally.
"I haven't decided yet."