23

"Cheated their way to victory— I just know they did," Pansy grumbled — short, raven hair in more of a mess than usual — and her face distorted into a scowl on our way to Defence against the Dark Arts.

She was talking about yesterday's quidditch match, of course. Every single Slytherin outraged by a score as awful as 250 to 0 for Gryffindor.

And after being lucky enough to have our first lessons with Ravenclaw, she couldn't stop blabbering on about Weasley's apparent cheating, now that our next lesson was with them.

And though I didn't witness the tragedy of that match, I took her word for it.

Walking into the familiar classroom, my eyes scanned it quickly; finding Gryffindor's as chipper as ever, laughing and talking, some even wearing our badges — I assumed after the loss, more than just a few of my housemates got rid of the Weasley is our King badges by simply throwing them onto the pitch or into the nearest bush.

It was Weasley himself who sat on top of his desk rather than the chair he was supposed to sit on. One foot of his was resting against the backrest, while the other secured the chair by standing on top of it. Lavender Brown swooning over him, clinging onto his arm as he told stories of yesterday's match;

The way he kicked that Quaffle away, and held this one — by almost throwing himself off his broom, of course. How very selfless of him.

The scraps of conversation I overheard were enough to make me roll my eyes, holding Pansy by her robes and pushing her further towards our shared desk when she attempted to stride over to them.

The door loudly fell into its hinges behind us before we even reached our desk, the sound startling me as I whipped around with a low gasp escaping my mouth.

My gaze got stuck on Weasley, though, the sound seeming to startle him just as much — if not more — as he struggled to keep the chair he had been balancing on in an upright position; failing miserably as it landed on the floor with a loud thud.

All former confidence wiped off his face; his eyes batted open to look up at Snape, who stood before him now, looking down on him condescendingly as he raised a brow.

"Weasley," He snarled, a hint of amusement in his voice as the next words left his mouth. "Five points from Gryffindor for not knowing how to sit on a chair properly."

His eyes were no longer on the boy but instead on the fallen chair lying between the two. It was with a single flick of his wrist that the chair stood tall again, tugging itself underneath the desk like it was supposed to.

I snorted dryly as I diverted my eyes off of them, a small smile lingering on my lips now as I hurried over to my own seat.

"Jumpy today, are we?"

My brows furrowed before my eyes even landed on Malfoy, a mocking tone in his voice as the question left his mouth.

"Have you always sat there?" I retorted, instead, a bored expression on my face as I sat down in the row in front of him. "Or have you just been getting more annoying to the point I can't ignore you anymore?"

Unbothered, I hunched over to fish book, parchment and quill, as well as the closed ink bottle out of my bag.

"Oh, please," Malfoy scoffed. "You don't have to pretend—"

"For fucks sake, would you two please just shut up—!" Aggravation laced Blaise's voice as he raised his head off the table it was previously resting on, a glare in his eyes and a scowl on his face.

His eyes flickered back and forth between Malfoy and me, challenging either of us to go against his friendly suggestion.

The bruise on his cheek from the match had become undeniably worse since last night, purple and blue against his dark skin and probably the reason for his awful mood.

I huffed, my eyes diverting off Blaise and narrowing onto the blonde next to him. My nose scrunched up in annoyance, gaze falling down his body before snapping back up to his face.

Though, for Blaise's sake, I turned around without another word as Malfoy's lips twitched into a smirk.

"Cursed objects." Snape's voice beamed through the room, effectively cutting the few chatters heard here and there off as most students sat up a little straighter in their chair.

His piercing gaze moved through the entire room once before he continued speaking. "In light of... recent events, it seems only appropriate that I teach you this."

His hands clasped together behind his back, and I could swear his eyes lingered on Malfoy behind me for a moment. "Cursed objects are not part of the usual curriculum, so we won't dwell on it long. In order to learn how to spot, avoid and maybe even counter curse one, we'll have to dive into how to curse an object in the first place."

I reached for the quill in front of me, lazily tapping the tip of the feather against the wooden desk. I knew Snape would tell us to start taking notes, anyway.

"Why are you not writing this down?" He said not ten seconds afterwards.

A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I noted the first words down on my parchment.

Cursed Objects

"We have potentially harmless cursed objects; an example of which would be—?" He asked into the classroom, watching a few arms raise before mine did. "Yes, Miss Hayes."

"An example of which would be Sonnets of a Sorcerer, sir—"

"Precisely." He simply assumed we all knew that everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives as he moved on. "And we have more harmful ones, like the necklace found in Katie Bells possession a few weeks ago."

A few muffled gasps and whispers filled the otherwise silent room, Snape's gaze stern as it darted through the rows of students in front of him. He didn't say anything further about the incident.

"Usually, the curser chooses an object of particular interest or sentimental value to them," Snape continued dryly. "A family heirloom, perhaps. Or a special gift they hold dear to their heart. Something that connects them — their soul — to it. A connection like this only makes the curse stronger."

He paused in his words for a moment as he gave us a chance to write what he has said down. He didn't give us nearly enough time to do so, but any of it was appreciated.

"If the curse is intended to be nothing but a foolish joke — take Sonnets of a Sorcerer as an example again —" His eyes darted over to me for a fraction of a second at the mention. — "Its effects will last longer, more severely, and might never falter. It'll be harder to find a fully effective counter curse, and the victim might suffer from the aftermath of the curse for the rest of their life."

His hands previously behind his back now clasped together in front of him as he watched the class in silence for another moment.

"If the cursed object is supposed to fatally harm the victim... the stronger the connection, the faster it will kill them."

And that's when it clicked; when the gears in my head started turning, and my eyes widened as my brows furrowed. A small, almost inaudible gasp slipped past my lips at the idea manifesting in my head right at that moment;

Pictures, memories and the soothing tune of the small music box itself flickered before my eyes and played in my head, my grasp on the quill in my hand loosening; only the sound of it hitting the stone floor after rolling off the desk reeling me back into reality.

I quickly shook my head, further snapping myself out of the thoughts as I cleared my throat and picked it up. As I brought my back into an upright position again, the quill in between my fingers, my head turned to glance behind me.

Malfoy's eyes — resembling nothing more than a bright grey sky from the distance — burned into the side of my face, his brows furrowed in concentration as he bit the inside of his cheek.

His eyes flickered over me, lingering on the quill in my hand before he lowly hummed to himself as a brow of his arched higher — eyes landing on mine right then.

He didn't say anything, though, and neither did I when I turned back towards the front of the classroom with a scowl on my face.

It immediately melted away as I listened to Snape explaining how exactly I'd be able to kill Dumbledore. 

A/N: Interesting. Very interesting. 

Penny for your thoughts again? hehe

SORRY FOR YESTERDAYS APRIL FOOLS CHAPTER some of yall were rlly mad like ok? oops

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