Chapter 5: The Note Clues

Courtyard - Under the Beech Tree

2 days later

The sun was high and the grass was warm. Christina and Rowan were under the old beech tree by the lake, tossing a Spell-O-Tape ball back and forth. No wands. No magic. Just hands and laughter.

Rowan grinned and threw it high. "Bet you can't-"

"-ruin someone else's life today, Smith?"

The ball hit the grass and rolled.

Austie Carrows stepped into the shade. Charles Malfoy's fiancée. Two second-year Slytherins behind her like shadows. Her skin was still blotchy from the "allergy," but her eyes were sharp. Christina didn't bend to pick up the ball. "Can we help you, Carrows?"

"I know it was you," Austie said, loud enough for the Hufflepuffs studying nearby to hear. "The itching. The swelling. You cursed me because you're jealous." Rowan stepped between them. "You hexed yourself, Austie. With that Knockturn trash you bought. Everyone knows. Sit down."

Austie's mouth twisted. "She's dangerous. Just like her brother. She needs to be expelled before-"

"Before what?" Christina cut in. Calm. Level. "Before I tell everyone you smeared an unlabeled potion on my robes? Before I tell them you got the dosage wrong and cursed yourself?" Christina knew Austie was right - she did curse her. The problem was, Austie had tried to do the same thing first.

Christina could already tell: Austie was a liar.

And so she played along, face blank, pretending she had no idea what Austie was talking about.

The two Gryffindors behind Austie shifted. Uneasy. "LIAR!" Austie's hand went to her wand. "You're a liar and a thief and you-"

"Don't," Rowan warned, moving to Christina's side. "Guild rules or not, you pull that on her, I'll break your nose." Austie didn't care about rules. She cared about saving face. And Rowan was in the way.

"Flipendo!"

The Knockback Jinx slammed into Rowan's ribs. She gasped and crashed back into the beech trunk, then hit the ground hard. The Spell-O-Tape ball bounced away. "Rowan!" Christina was on her knees instantly. Austie advanced, wand trained on Christina now. "Get up. Let's see how good you really are, Mudblood. Or are you only brave when your brother's curse-"

Christina stood. Slow. Her face had gone still. Not angry. Empty. The kind of empty Charles Malfoy wore when he was deciding if you were worth his time.

"You hexed my friend," Christina said.

"She deserved it-"

Christina fired. "Expelliarmus!"

Austie sidestepped. The red jet shredded beech leaves.

"Stupefy!" Austie screamed, firing again.

Christina batted it aside with a lazy "Protego." The blue light ricocheted into the lake. Then she attacked. One spell. Precise. "Incarcerous."

Ropes shot from her wand and bound Austie's arms to her sides. Austie staggered, shrieked, and fell to her knees. "Get these off me!" she screeched. "You can't-"

"Can't what?" Christina walked to her. No hurry. "Can't defend myself? Can't defend Rowan?" Austie stared at her. Shocked.

A first-year. A Mudblood. Knew spells like Expelliarmus, Protego, and Incarcerous. Spells second-years weren't supposed to touch until next term. Spells that needed focus. Practice.

How did she do it?

Flitwick hadn't taught them that. Not yet. Not to beginners.

Austie felt it like a burn. Jealousy.

She was the one who'd read ahead. Who'd practiced. And this... this girl. This Mudblood. Over her head.

Christina knelt down to Rowan instead, running her wand along her side. "Episkey." Rowan's breathing eased. The bruise stopped spreading. "Thanks," Rowan wheezed and added, "Now kick her." but Christina didn't. She turned back to Austie, who was thrashing in the ropes, face red.

"Diffindo." Austie slashed the ropes apart with a snarl. She scrambled up, hair wild, wand shaking. "You think you won? You think-"

"Levicorpus!"

Austie hoisted Rowan by her ankle before anyone could blink. Rowan yelped, dangling upside down, her robes falling over her face.

"Let her down!" Christina snapped, wand up. "Make me," Austie hissed. "Or maybe I'll let her drop. From high enough. See how many bones break." She raised her wand higher. Rowan was ten feet off the ground now. Christina's jaw locked. She was about to cast.

"Finite Incantatem."

The voice was cold. Bored. Absolute. Rowan dropped - but only two feet, into Christina's arms. The Levicorpus ended like someone cut a string.

Charles Malfoy stood at the edge of the shade. He hadn't been there a second ago. Now he was. Hands in his pockets. Grey eyes on Austie. Austie's triumph died. "Charles! She-she attacked me! She cursed me and she-"

"Silencio."

Austie's mouth kept moving. No sound came out.

Charles didn't look at Christina. Didn't look at Rowan. He only looked at his fiancée, dangling halfway to standing, ropes still around her ankles.

"Carrow," he said. His voice was quiet. It carried anyway. "You drew your wand on a Gryffindor in the open. In daylight. In front of witnesses."

Austie shook her head frantically, pointing at Christina.

"You lost," Charles went on. Same tone. "To a first-year. Who hasn't had a single dueling lesson." He finally glanced at Christina. Just for a second. His eyes took in Rowan, bruised but standing. Took in Christina, wand still up but not casting. Took in Austie, silenced and bound. "Pathetic," he said. Not to Christina. To Austie.

He flicked his wand. Austie's ropes vanished. Her voice came back with a gasp. "You'll apologize," Charles told her. "To North. Now. Or I'll tell Father that the Carrows can't control their own."

Austie's face crumpled. Rage. Shame. Fear. "I-I'm sorry," she choked at Rowan. It sounded like glass.

Rowan, leaning on Christina, snorted. "Not accepted."

Charles's mouth twitched. Not a smile. Close. He looked at Christina again. Longer, this time. Christina met his gaze. Furrowed her brows, taking him in.

Charles Malfoy. So he was the boy Austie'd been glaring at her for.

She studied him, sunlight catching his face.

Charles Malfoy was... precise. Angular features, sharp enough to cut. Not cold - controlled. Skin fair, hair a silver-white mess of waves, short-to-medium, framing his face like it was sculpted. Eyes... gray. Pale as a winter sky. Like stone that didn't spark.

"You're bleeding," he said. Christina looked down. A cut on her palm from catching Rowan. She hadn't noticed. "Episkey," he said, and cast it himself. The cut sealed. His healing was clean. Clinical. Then he turned his back on all of them. "Austie. With me. Now." He walked. Austie scrambled after him, head down, not daring to look back. The courtyard was silent. The Hufflepuffs had stopped pretending to study. and everyone just saw what had happened, a first year and second year having a dueling, it was against on the rules in academy, which they broke or rather Austie did.

Rowan let out a breath. "Well. That was disgusting." Christina stared at the spot where Charles had stood. Her palm didn't hurt anymore. But it felt cold.

"He saved you," Rowan said. "From her."

"No," Christina said quietly. "He saved her. From me."

She picked up the Spell-O-Tape ball. Tossed it once. Caught it. She didn't say what else she was thinking: Charles Malfoy just watched me duel. And he didn't look surprised.

Christina looked at Rowan. "How are you? You should go to the Hospital Wing right away," she said, worried. After all, Austie had hexed her.

"I'm fine, Tina. You saved me," Rowan said. "And not only that - you were awesome! You dueled Austie so well. And those spells... how did you know them? Professor Flitwick hasn't taught those yet. They're higher level. Second or third year material."

Rowan was curious. Christina always had her nose in a book. That's how she knew. Plus, Georgia had taught her almost everything.

Christina opened her mouth to answer when a voice rang out from down the hall.

Everyone froze.

"We heard there's a dueling happening around here. Ms. Smith, care to explained yourself?" Flitwick, McGonagall, and Snape descended the stone steps fast. Students scattered.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall demanded, her eyes landing on Christina's wand and a few small marks that left from the dueling. "Dueling is forbidden outside of supervised practice."

"Forbidden? Austie hexed Rowan first, For no reason." "Because she's a liar," a voice rang out. Austie came back with Charles behind "And a thief." She added with a pride smug on her face lookingat Christina, Christina looked at her bitterly, although she is the youngest, she knows very well that Austie is blaming her for everything.

"You're hurt, Ms. North," Snape said flatly, looking at Rowan. "Hospital Wing. Now." Rowan didn't move. She was staring past them.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," McGonagall said, her tone clipped. "For unsanctioned dueling, and for attacking a student." She gave Austie a hard look before glancing at Christina. Christina and Rowan stared at each other, terror plain on their faces. The smugness drained from Austie’s face, leaving only shock. "But Professor—" she started.

"Enough, Ms. Carrows." McGonagall didn’t let her finish.

Flitwick turned to Christina, disappointed. "Ms. Smith. You know better. Dueling is forbidden because students die. Spells misfire. Bones break. Curses linger. It is not a game."

Snape's gaze slid to Charles. "And you, Mr. Malfoy? What brings you here?" Charles didn't look at him. He looked at Christina. Then at Rowan's arm. Then back to Christina. "Making sure it stays fair," he said.

"Detention. All three of you," McGonagall said. "My office. Now. And as for you Ms. North - Hospital Wing."

She turned to leave. Then paused.

"And Ms. Smith... where did you learn some spells you did? That is not first-year curriculum."

Christina's jaw tightened. Rowan answered for her.

"She reads, Professor. And she had to. Or I would still be on the ground." McGonagall's eyes softened for half a second. Then she was stern again. "Be that as it may. Rules exist for a reason. Move."

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Professor McGonagall's Office - After the Courtyard Duel

The door clicked shut. McGonagall sat behind her desk. Flitwick stood by the bookshelf. Snape leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

Rowan wasn't there. Madam Pomfrey had already taken her to the Hospital Wing.

Austie didn't waste a second. "She started it!" She jabbed a finger at Christina. "I knew it was her! She's the one who hexed me! Look - the red marks are still here from the itching! My face is still swollen!"

Christina knew Austie was right. But she played dumb. Stared at her. "What?"

"Don't play dumb! You cursed me! With some Stinging Jinx!" Austie yanked her sleeve up. Faint red welts ran up her arm and neck. "They're all over my body. The itching's gone, but these rashes are still here!"

Christina scoffed. "It's not my fault you put on a cloak that had a spell you meant for me."

McGonagall's eyes widened. Christina kept going. "You grabbed the wrong cloak. Or maybe someone switched it when they saw you trying to humiliate me."

Austie took a half-step back, teeth gritted.

"I didn't cast anything on you, Austie," Christina said flatly. "And why would I? Professor Flitwick hasn't taught us jinxes."

Austie stepped forward. "Liar!"

"You're always reading," Austie spat. "I know it. You're smart like those bookworm Ravenclaws, you Mudblood! You think you're better than us because you know spells we don't!"

Christina didn't back down. She might be younger, but she wasn't scared.

"You're right," Christina said. "I do think I'm better than you. Because I don't hex people who aren't holding wands." She shot back, "You hit Rowan with Flipendo. No warning. Just you being cruel."

"She deserved it for defending a Mudblood like you - you liar, thief-"

"Oh please, stop it, Austie. She was trying to stop you!"

"Enough."

McGonagall's voice cut through both of them.

"Ms. Carrows, you're accusing Ms. Smith of casting an untaught jinx on you. Do you have proof?"

Austie faltered. "I... I felt it. And she's the only one who hates me enough to-"

"Feeling is not proof," Snape said. "Unless you saw her wand. Or have witnesses."

Austie's mouth opened. Then closed.

"Ms. Smith," Flitwick said gently. "Whatever Stinging Jinx you allegedly cast - especially Pruritus Maxima, which is a fourth-year spell. Complex. Did you cast it on her? Or anyone?"

"No, Professor," Christina said, meeting his eyes. "I swear on it. I didn't know that spell existed until she said it just now."

Of course Christina was lying. It hadn't been Pruritus Maxima. It was a different Stinging Jinx. A dangerous one. One Hogwarts had never taught.

McGonagall was quiet for a long moment. Then:

"Ms. North is the victim in this incident. She will face no punishment. She is excused from all further inquiry."

Rowan was safe. Christina exhaled.

McGonagall turned to Austie. "Ms. Carrows. You cast Flipendo on an unarmed student without provocation. That is assault. You will receive a formal warning and serve two weeks of detention. Twenty points from Gryffindor. If this happens again, you will be suspended. Is that understood?"

Austie's face twisted. "But she-"

"Is. That. Understood?"

"...Yes, Professor."

McGonagall then looked at Christina. Her expression didn't change.

"Ms. Smith. You engaged in an unsanctioned duel. You returned spellfire instead of alerting a professor. Regardless of intent, that is forbidden."

Christina's throat tightened. "Professor, Rowan was on the ground-"

"And you chose to duel," McGonagall finished. "Dueling is forbidden because students die, Ms. Smith. Because fear makes aim sloppy. Because Protego can rebound. Because Expelliarmus thrown in anger can snap a wrist. We do not allow it. Ever."

Flitwick nodded, sad. "The rules protect you, too."

McGonagall drew a breath. "Ten points from Gryffindor. And you are suspended for three days, effective immediately. You will remain in your dormitory. No classes. No Great Hall. You may return Monday."

The word suspended hit like cold water.

"But she accused me of something I didn't do," Christina said, quiet.

"And if evidence of that jinx surfaces, Ms. Carrows will face consequences," McGonagall said. "But today, I am punishing what I saw. You dueled."

Austie didn't even try to hide her smirk this time.

"Dismissed. Both of you."

Christina walked out first. She didn't look back.

Three days. For stopping Austie.

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Gryffindor Tower - That Evening

The common room went quiet when Christina walked in.

Ten points gone. Three-day suspension. News travels fast.

Austie was already there, slumped in an armchair by the fire. Detention starts tomorrow. Twenty points gone.

Joseph Prewett, seventh year, Head Boy, stood up from the table. He didn't yell. He didn't need to.

"Smith. Carrow. My office. Now."

His office was the corner table by the window. No door. Everyone could hear.

"You two," Joseph said, voice low and flat. "Cost Gryffindor thirty points in one afternoon. Thirty. We were in second place for the House Cup."

He looked at Austie first. "You hexed an unarmed student. In the courtyard. Because she was defending Smith. You brought Slytherin tactics into this house. We don't do that here."

Austie opened her mouth. Joseph held up a hand. "I don't care. Save it. You've got two weeks of detention. Try to survive them without dragging us lower."

Then he turned to Christina.

"And you. You dueled. In the open. When you could've gotten a prefect. A professor. Anyone."

"Rowan was down," Christina said quietly. "Austie wasn't stopping."

"I know," Joseph said. Not unkind. Just tired. "And if it was my friendor sibling, I might've done the same. Doesn't change the rules. Doesn't change that Professor McGonagall had to make an example. Because if she doesn't, next time it's a Diffindo and someone's bleeding out on the stones."

Silence.

"Three days," he said to Christina. "You're stuck in the dorm. Don't make it worse. No sneaking out. No letters to Flitwick to argue. Serve it. Come back Monday and earn those points back."

He looked between them. "You're both Gryffindors. Act like it. That means you don't hex your housemates. You don't settle scores in courtyards. You protect each other. Even when you hate each other." He paused for a moment before adding, "And please - I'm a seventh-year at Hogwarts. I'll be graduating soon. Next year I won't be here to keep you in line. It'll be up to the next Head Boy or Head Girl in Gryffindor. So please, act like a Gryffindor."

He sat down. "Get out of my sight." Austie and Christina walked to the door together. They stopped and looked at each other, like they were throwing knives with their eyes. In the end, Christina stepped aside and let her out first.

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Headmaster's Office - Evening, Same Day

The gargoyle stepped aside without a password. Charles Malfoy didn't need one.

Dumbledore's office was quiet except for the soft ticking of silver instruments and the low snores of portraits pretending to sleep. Christina's suspension notice sat on the desk, ink still wet.

Suspension: 3 Days. Christina Smith, Gryffindor First Year.

Reason: Unsanctioned Dueling, Courtyard.

No mention of Austie Carrows. Only her detention for two weeks. sounds unfair.

Charles stopped three paces from the desk. He didn't sit. Malfoys didn't sit unless invited. Dumbledore hadn't invited him.

"Headmaster." Charles's voice was polite. Empty. "I'm here about the suspension."

Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles. "Mr. Malfoy. I expected your father."

"My father doesn't concern himself with courtyard squabbles," Charles said. "I do. Since it was my fiancée who drew first."

"Ah." Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "And you feel the punishment was... unequal."

"I feel it wasn't a punishment at all," Charles said. "It was a message. Christina Smith is suspended. Austie Carrow is not. One acted in defense of another. The other initiated, injured a student, and continued after being disarmed. Yet only Miss Smith is barred from classes."

He set a folded parchment on the desk. Witness statements. Gryffindor. Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw. Even Slytherin. "It should be fair," Charles said. Cold. Precise. "If the school wishes to maintain the illusion of impartiality."

Dumbledore didn't look at the parchment. He looked at Charles. Really looked. Grey eyes meeting blue. For a moment, the office was very still. Fawkes shifted on his perch.

"You remind me of someone, Charles," Dumbledore said softly. "A schoolmate of mine. Many years ago."

Charles said nothing. He waited. "Eragon Lestrange," Dumbledore continued. "Brilliant. Powerful. Pureblood, as you are. He, too, came to a headmaster's office demanding fairness."

Charles's jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly. "It was 1899," Dumbledore said, eyes distant now. "A young witch was accused of cursing another. Sharmel Walker. Half-Muggle. Brilliant at Herbology. The other girl was pureblood. From an old family. She'd hexed Sharmel first - in the corridors, in front of witnesses. Sharmel defended herself. Won."

He picked up a lemon drop. Didn't unwrap it. "The pureblood girl received a warning. Sharmel received suspension. Eragon came to the Headmaster, just as you have. He brought statements. He demanded fairness. He said, and he quote, 'If the rule applies to one, it applies to all. Or it applies to none.'"

The office was silent.

Charles finally spoke. "What did the Headmaster do?"

"He suspended both," Dumbledore said. "Because Eragon was right. The rule must apply to all.The rule must apply to all. Or it is not a rule. It is preference."

He set the lemon drop down. "But Eragon didn't stop there. He stayed after. He asked why the pureblood girl wasn't expelled for attacking a student unprovoked. He asked why the school protected blood over behavior." Dumbledore's gaze sharpened. "Are you asking me that, Charles?"

Charles met his eyes. Didn't flinch. "I'm asking why Christina Smith is the only name on that parchment. I'm asking if Gryffindor is to be punished for defending itself, After all, Smith and Carrows are in same house. Their house is slowly losing the house cup. "

"And if I told you Miss Carrow's punishment is being handled... internally? By her House? As your family often prefers?"

"Then I would tell you," Charles said, "that internal punishments are for internal matters. This happened in the courtyard. In front of four Houses. It is not internal. And if the school will not act, the name Malfoy will."

It wasn't a threat. It was a fact. Delivered the same way he'd cast Episkey on Christina's hand. Clean. Final. Dumbledore was quiet for a long moment. Then he reached for a quill. "You are correct, Mr. Malfoy," he said, writing a second notice. "The rule must apply to all. Or it is not a rule."

Suspension: 3 Days. Austie Carrow, Gryffindor Second Year.

Reason: Unsanctioned Dueling, Courtyard. Injury to Another Student.

He signed it. Folded it. Handed it to Charles. "Will you deliver it to Professor Snape? Or shall I?" Charles took it. "I will."

He turned to leave. At the door, Dumbledore spoke again, softly.

"Eragon married Sharmel, you know. His family disowned him for it. He said that Sharmel was the only person and reason why he is still alive. Even after her death, he stayed alive for their children, their grandchildren, their whole family. For him, it was the only fair trade he'd ever made."

Charles stopped. Didn't turn around.

"She was half-Muggle," Dumbledore added. "And the most powerful witch I've ever seen in this academy. Much like her granddaughters and also her great-granddaughter seems to be."

The silence stretched.

Charles opened the door. "Thank you for your time, Headmaster." He left. The gargoyle sealed behind him.

Dumbledore sat back. He looked very old, suddenly. He looked at Fawkes.

"That boy reminded me so much of Eragon," Dumbledore murmured. "Hm, Christina also reminded me of Sharmel, everytime I look at her, she looks almost similar to hers. Oh Merlin, help us all."

He picked up Christina's suspension notice again. Then Austie's. Set them side by side.

Charles Malfoy's POV

I walked the empty hall, heading for Snape. Each corridor took me deeper. Into the dungeons. Into my thoughts.

Gryffindors.

They parade as noble. As brave. But provoke one - really provoke one - and the mask slips. Then they're dangerous.

I watched Smith. And I watched North.

Between the two, North was loud. Predictable. A bark with no real bite. Smith was quiet. Precise. She didn't threaten. She acted. Christina Smith was the dangerous one. Austie calls her a Mudblood. Says it like it's a fact. Like blood explains everything.

I'm not convinced.

Mudbloods don't duel like that. They don't stand still while someone fires Expelliarmus at their face. They don't counter with Stupefy spoken, not shouted - and hit. Is she really a Mudblood, like Austie thinks?

I've dueled Mudbloods. They don't have eyes that go empty right before they cast. They don't have hands that stay steady. Blood doesn't explain her. Something else does.

The air cooled with each step. Courtyard sun became dungeon stone. The noise of students faded behind me. Good. I didn't want witnesses.

The Potions corridor was empty. Class had ended. My footsteps echoed.

Snape's door was open. He was at his desk, marking essays with a quill that scratched like a knife. He didn't look up. He never did, unless it mattered.

"Professor."

His quill stopped. Black eyes lifted. "Mr. Malfoy. This is not your year, nor your class."

"No," I said. I stepped inside. Didn't sit. "I'm delivering something. From the Headmaster."

I held out the parchment. Dumbledore's seal, still red. Snape took it. Read it. His expression didn't change, but the quill in his hand went still.

Suspension: 3 Days. Austie Carrow, Gryffindor Second Year.

Reason: Unsanctioned Dueling, Courtyard. Injury to Another Student.

"The Headmaster has decided," I said, "that the rule applies to all. Or it is not a rule." Snape's eyes flicked to me. "You went to him."

"I did."

"About Miss Smith."

"About fairness."

A pause. The dungeon was cold.

"Eragon Lestrange went to a Headmaster once," Snape said quietly. "1899. About Sharmel Walker. Half-Muggle. Accused of cursing a pureblood. She hadn't. She'd defended herself."

I said nothing. He already knew I knew.

"Dumbledore told you," Snape surmised.

"He did."

Snape set the parchment down. Folded his hands. "And now you bring me my House's disgrace. Your fiancée."

"My fiancée started a duel in the courtyard," I said. "She injured a Gryffindor. She lost to a first-year who has had no formal training. If she cannot face three days' suspension, she cannot face the name Malfoy."

Snape studied me. Looking for Lucius. Finding something else.

"Miss Smith," he said. "You healed her hand."

"I did."

"Why?"

Because Mudbloods don't have eyes like that, I didn't say. Because blood doesn't explain her, I didn't say.

"Because she bled stopping Austie from hurting North worse," I said instead. Clean. True. Not all of it.

Snape nodded once. "Miss Carrow will be informed. She will serve her suspension."

He picked up his quill again. Dismissal.

I turned. At the door, he spoke. No louder than before.

"Be careful, Mr. Malfoy. Sharmel Walker married Eragon Lestrange. His family disowned him for it."

I stopped. Didn't turn.

"I'm aware," I said.

"Are you also aware," Snape said, "that Sharmel Walker's great-granddaughter is currently serving suspension for defending herself against your fiancée?"

The quill scratched again. I left. The dungeon door shut behind me with a click.

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Gryffindor Common Room - Evening, Same Day as Christina's Suspension

The portrait hole opened. Christina climbed through, trunk nowhere in sight. Just her. Conversation died. Then started again, louder.

Maggie was first. "Christina!" She crossed the room fast, Shamel behind her. "We heard. Three days? That's not fair."

"McGonagall suspended you for helping Rowan?" Fay Dunbar, third year, shook her head. "That's rubbish." Katie Bell shoved a Chocolate Frog into Christina's hand. "From the whole Quidditch team. Angelina says if you need notes, she'll copy hers." Christina took the frog. Didn't open it. "I'm fine," she said. "Really. Rowan's out of the Hospital Wing. That's what matters."

"You lost ten points," Demelza said, sitting on the arm of the couch. "But you saved Rowan. We'd lose fifty for that."

"Still," Shamel muttered. "Austie got a warning. You got suspended. How's that fair?" Christina shrugged. "Rules are rules." She wasn't fine. But she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing it. The portrait hole banged open.

Austie.

Behind her, Cora Ridley and Megan Jones. Second-years. Always at Austie's shoulder. Always laughing when she did.

The room went quiet again. Different kind.

"Well," Austie said, loud. "Look who's back. The hero of Gryffindor. Three whole days off while the rest of us have class. Must be nice." Cora snickered. "Bet she's in there writing more spells she'll never get to use."

"At least she knows spells," Maggie shot back. "More than you can say, Cora. Last time you tried Wingardium Leviosa you broke a window."

Cora's face went red. "Shut up, Brown."

"Make me," Lavender said, standing.

Austie ignored her. Eyes on Christina. "Ten points gone because you couldn't keep your wand in your pocket. Hope it was worth it, Smith. You're not even-"

"Don't." Katie was on her feet now. "Don't finish that sentence, Carrow."

"I'll say what I want," Austie said. "She dueled me. She's dangerous. McGonagall knows it. That's why she's locked up like a-"

"She saved Rowan," Demelza cut in. "While you were hexing people who weren't looking. In our house. You're the disgrace." Karen, the third year student also joined in "Don't forget we also lost twenty points because of you. Between you and Christina, yours is the worst."

"Yeah," Fay said. "You're the one who cost us twenty points, Austie. Not her. You. And now you're mad she got punished less than she should've? Please." Austie's smirk cracked. "You're all defending her? A-"

"Say it," Christina said. Quiet. The room heard it anyway. "Say Mudblood. Go on. We all know you want to."

Austie opened her mouth.

"ENOUGH."

Joseph Prewett stood at the bottom of the boys' stairs. He hadn't raised his voice all year. He didn't need to now.

Everyone sat. Except Austie. And Christina.

"Thirty points," Joseph said. "In one day. From this house. Because two of you decided the courtyard was the place to settle your problems." He looked at Austie. "You started it. You finished it with a lie." Then at Christina. "You ended it with a duel. Both of you are an embarrassment."

The fire crackled.

"And if I hear the word Mudblood in this common room," Joseph said, eyes on Austie, "I will take it to McGonagall myself. You won't like what happens next." Austie's jaw worked. Cora and Megan took a step back from her.

Then: tap. tap. tap.

A school owl at the window. For Austie.

She opened it. Read. Went white.

Joseph held out his hand. She gave him the letter. He read it. Once.

His eyebrows went up.

"Well," Joseph said. He didn't smile. "Seems fair came back around."

He read aloud.

"Ms. Carrow. Further investigation confirms self-inflicted jinx to falsely accuse another student. Suspension: Three days, effective immediately. Floo at noon tomorrow. - M. McGonagall."

Silence.

Then Maggie: "Five days?"

Shamel: "For lying? For hurting Rowan and accused Christina? Only three days?"

Demelza didn't even hide it. She laughed. "Guess McGonagall does know who started it."

Austie wasn't looking at them. She was reading the letter again. Her hands started shaking. But who could have done this? Did the professors mind change???

Prior Incantato.

Someone talked to Professor Dumbledore. And that person was none other than...

"Charles." Austie blurted his name like a whisper.

"Making sure it stays fair."

The letter crumpled in her fist.

She didn't say anything. Just turned. Shoved past Cora and Megan and slammed through the portrait hole.

Maggie blinked. "Where's she going?"

Shamel looked at the door. "No idea."

Demelza frowned. "Was that- did she just figure something out?"

Joseph didn't look up from the parchment he'd taken back. "She did."

"You knew?" Katie asked him.

Joseph set the letter on the table. "Someone told Professor Dumbledore that the punishment for both girls seemed unfair. Someone made sure Carrow would face the same suspension as Smith. Professor McGonagall sent the letter as Head of Gryffindor House - but the order came from Dumbledore. He's the one who told her to suspend Carrow."

Shamel's eyes widened. "Really? But I heard Professor Dumbledore isn't easy to convince."

Joseph looked at her. "You're right, he's not. Which means someone went to him. Professor Dumbledore was probably impressed by them."

He looked at Christina. Then at the door Austie left through. "She's going to the dungeons," he said. Flat. Not surprised. "To find Malfoy." The common room went dead quiet again.

Christina just picked up her Chocolate Frog. Opened it.

"Malfoy," she said quietly.

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Slytherin Common Room - Minutes Later

The stone wall slid open. Austie didn't wait for permission. Didn't say the password. She just shoved past a confused fourth-year and stormed in. The Slytherin common room went quiet. Green firelight. Black leather. Silver everywhere.

Arthur Taylor looked up from a chess game. "Carrow? You're not-"

"Where is he?" Austie's voice cracked off the stone. She was still holding McGonagall's letter, crumpled. "Where's Charles?"

Kathrine Johnson's eyebrows hit her hairline. "He's not here. And you're not supposed to be either, Gryffindor."

"I don't care," Austie snapped. "Three days. Suspension. Because he went to Professor Dumbledore. he told him to suspended me."

Zoe Zabini sat up straighter. "What?"

"Prior Incantato," Austie said, slamming the letter onto the low table. It landed face-up. "I know it was him! He's the one who told ProfessorDumbledore! He can convince anyone - he's a Malfoy!"

Arthur read the letter. His face did something complicated. Not surprise. Not exactly. "He was here ten minutes ago," Daphne Greengrass said, not looking up from her book. "Left. Said he had to see someone."

"Where?" Austie demanded.

"Didn't say," Daphne said. "But he took the passage toward the Potions corridor."

Austie was already moving.

"Austie."

She stopped. Charles stood in the archway that led to the boys' dormitories. He wasn't in robes. Shirt sleeves. Sleeves rolled up. He looked at the letter on the table. Then at her. "You got it," he said. Not a question. "You-" Her voice shook. "You went to Professor Dumbledore. Then to Professor Snape."

"Everyone saw what you did in the courtyard. You fired the first spell at North, and Smith fired one right back at you. You both cost losing the Gryffindor House Cup points. Your house is in second place. Yet Smith was the only one suspended, while you got a warning. That's unfair. Or is it because you're a Carrow?"

Arthur stood. "Charles, maybe-"

"No," Charles said, not looking at him. "She came here. Let her hear it." He stepped into the common room. The fire made his shadow long.

"You dueled Christina Smith because you accused her that she hexed you with Stinging Jinx spell," he said. "You hexed Rowan North because she defended her. You tried to humiliate Smith with that perfume you bought - you sprayed it on her clothes. Tell me, was it a Stinging Hex? Or a potion you put on her cloak?"

Austie flinched. "I didn't-"

"You didn't?" Charles cut in. "Are you sure about that? You did it, Austie. I have eyes and ears everywhere. I've seen it, every day since she got here. And then you lost to her. In the courtyard. In front of everyone."

He paused, then added, "Be grateful I didn't bring it up. If I had, you would've been expelled from this school. Your family's name would be disgraced, and mine would be dragged through shame again."

Silence. Even Pansy wasn't smirking now.

"So you went to Dumbledore," Austie whispered. "For her."

"I went to Dumbledore for the rule," Charles said and he picked up the letter. Held it out to her.

Austie didn't take the letter. "You ruined me."

"No," Charles said. "You ruined yourself. I just made sure Gryffindor didn't pay for it."

He dropped the letter on the table. Turned.

"Charles-"

He stopped. Didn't turn around.

"If you can't face five days' suspension," he said, "you can't face the name Malfoy."

He walked into the dormitory. The door shut. Austie stood there. Slytherins watching. Arthur cleared his throat. "You should... go. Floo's at noon." Kathrine finally spoke. "Five days isn't expulsion, Carrow. But coming in here like this? That might be."

No one helped her pick up the letter. Austie grabbed it. Walked out. The stone wall sealed behind her.

In the common room, Zoe exhaled. "He really did it."

"Did what?" Daphne asked.

"Picked a side," Arthur said. He looked at the boys' dormitory door. "And it wasn't ours."

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Three days later - In the Dining Hall

Rowan groaned. "Christina, thank Merlin you were only suspended for three days. Imagine if it was a month - or a whole year!"

Christina just chuckled. "Wouldn't matter. If I had to stop for a year and start over as a first-year, so be it. I wasn't supposed to enroll early anyway. I was meant to start next year." Rowan leaned across the table. "Honestly, you're right. But it'd still be a waste of a year. I could live with it if it happened to Austie, though. She deserves it."

Christina set her bread down. "That's not fair. Austie comes from a wealthy family, and she's already a second-year. She has experience here. She's older than us. I'm younger than her." Rowan straightened. "Yeah, but you're more mature than Austie'll ever be. She's spoiled. Acts like a baby. Always hanging off Charles Malfoy. It's disgusting."

Christina shushed her and glanced across the hall. Austie was picking at her food. Charles was a few tables over, talking with his yearmates. "Keep your voice down, Rowan. Both of them have eyes and ears everywhere," she whispered.

Luckily, the Great Hall was too loud for anyone to notice.

Rowan nearly choked on her pumpkin juice. She coughed, surprised by Christina's bluntness. "Speaking of Austie - who does she think she is? She acts like she owns the place. I almost thought she was the one who didn't belong in Gryffindor," Rowan said, stifling a laugh.

She calmed down and leaned in, voice low. "I heard Austie's family isn't actually that rich. Her power comes from being engaged to Charles Malfoy. The Malfoys are one of the top two wealthiest families. Pureblood, no Muggles or half-bloods in the line. They keep it that way by marrying cousins. Siblings, sometimes."

Rowan nodded toward Charles, who stood beside his older brother - a fourth-year. "Is that why Austie's family offered her to the Malfoys? Because they're weak?" Christina asked.

"Something like that," Rowan said. "The Carrows share the same pureblood ideology, but they're lower on the ladder. The Malfoys are the oldest, richest, most influential. The Carrows? Less so."

Christina smiled, amused. Rowan blushed. "You know a lot about them," Christina said.

Rowan grinned. "I can tell you more. See him?" She pointed. "That's Marco Lestrange. Descendant of Eragon Lestrange. Eragon was the most powerful son of the family in his time - even became Slytherin Head of House. But he turned his back on them because of their dark history and married Sharmel Walker. She was wealthy, but half-Muggle, half-witch. If I'm right, Eragon and Sharmel were around during Dumbledore's time."

"The Lestranges are top three wealthiest, too. Eragon was a Slytherin, became Head of House, heir to the family. And he's still alive. Still on top. Still powerful. Rumor is he doesn't age - like he's got some angelic power. Sadly, his wife was killed in the war against Grindelwald. She took a Killing Curse meant for her daughter. That kind of magic's forbidden to teach here."

Before Rowan could go on, Professor McGonagall clapped her hands. The Hall went quiet.

"Students," McGonagall called. "An announcement. In a few days, the competition for Best House of the Year begins. I expect all four Houses to do their best. Every point earned will count toward the House Cup.

"This competition will test you: Charms, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology. Each student must participate. The House with the most points at the end of the year will win not only the House Cup, but the title of Best House. And - there will be a reward for the winners. Who will it be? Gryffindor? Slytherin? Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? That is all. Thank you."

The Hall erupted in claps and cheers. Conversations broke out instantly. "Which club are you joining, Christina?" Rowan asked. "I still don't know where I'm going." Christina thought. "I'm not sure yet. Didn't you say you were good at Quidditch? Why not try out?" Rowan sighed. "Can't. My sisters are already on the team. I want to do something different. Besides, that game's dangerous. One fall and you're in the Hospital Wing. Break every bone in your body." She shivered. "No thanks."

"Rowan! Christina!"

They turned. Roxanne from Hufflepuff was weaving through the tables, smiling warmly. "Hey, Roxanne. You're late. McGonagall just made a big announcement," Rowan said as Roxanne slid in beside Christina. "What was it? Was it important?" Roxanne asked, curious.

Christina and Rowan filled her in. Roxanne listened carefully, then tapped her chin. "My mum and I love plants, but I love animals too. Now I don't know which to pick. We can only choose one club."

Rowan ticked them off on her fingers. "Right, so for the competition, the clubs are tied to subjects. You pick one, and that's what you compete in all year."

1. Duelling Club - Charms-based. Run by Flitwick. "If you want points fast, this is it," Rowan said. "But you'll be hexing people every week. Slytherins love it. Dangerous if you're not quick."

2. Potions Circle - Snape's domain. "Brutal," Rowan muttered. "He picks favorites. If you mess up one brew, you're done. But if you're good? He'll drown you in points. Marco Lestrange is in this one. So is Austie, unfortunately."

3. Creature Care Corps - Hagrid + Kettleburn. "Fun," Roxanne said, eyes bright. "You work with Hippogriffs, Bowtruckles, Nifflers. Less politics. More bruises. Hufflepuffs dominate this."

4. Herbology Guild - Sprout's pride. "All about magical plants," Roxanne added. "Devil's Snare, Mandrakes, Venomous Tentacula. You get dirty, but it's steady points. And after what Austie pulled, you two know Devil's Snare already." She winked.

5. Quidditch - "Doesn't count as a 'club' for the competition, but team members get bonus points for wins," Rowan explained. "Still not doing it."

Christina was quiet, running through it.

Duelling? She was fast, but she didn't want to give Austie more reasons to hex her in public.

Potions? Snape already watched her like a hawk because of James. One mistake and she'd lose Gryffindor more points. And she'd have to work with Austie.

Creatures? She liked animals, but Hagrid's "harmless" pets usually weren't.

Quidditch? No. She'd never flown outside of first-year lessons.

Her eyes drifted to her wrist. The faint mark from the Devil's Snare was still there. She'd stayed calm. She hadn't panicked. She'd remembered what Georgia told her: "Devil's Snare hates light and heat. Relax, and it lets go."

And the handkerchief. White, with a rose and skeleton. James had one. She had one. Plants, symbols, old magic...

"Herbology," Christina said.

Rowan blinked. "Really? Not Duelling? You're good under pressure."

"I am," Christina said. "But I'm better when I'm patient. Plants don't lie. They don't play politics. And if Austie tries anything in the greenhouses, Sprout will bury her in manure."

Roxanne beamed. "Yes! We can be in it together! We'll be Herbology partners!"

Rowan groaned, but she was smiling. "Fine. Then I'm doing Creatures. Someone has to keep you two from being eaten by a Venomous Tentacula. Plus, no Malfoys, no Lestranges, no Austie. Just me, Hagrid, and things that bite."

Christina picked up her bread again. For the first time in three days, she felt settled.

"Herbology Guild," she said again, testing it. It felt right.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, a thought surfaced: Sharmel Walker's wand was stolen. handkerchief with the embroidery of skeleton, rose, and shield. James is somewhere.

Plants remembered things. Old magic clung to roots. If any club would help her understand what happened to James, it was this one.

"Sign me up," she told Rowan. "Let's win this for Gryffindor."

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First Herbology Guild Meeting - Greenhouse Tree

The greenhouses smelled like damp earth and crushed mint. Greenhouse Three was the biggest - and the most dangerous. Professor Sprout had lined the worktables with dragonhide gloves, earmuffs, and a sign that read: "If it bites, you deserve it."

Christina arrived early. Roxanne was already there, practically vibrating, a dirt smudge on her cheek. Maria slouched in last, arms crossed, eyeing a potted Venomous Tentacula like it owed her money.

"Welcome, welcome!" Sprout called, brushing soil off her apron. "Herbology Guild! Ten points to Gryffindor for punctuality, five to Hufflepuff for enthusiasm." She winked at Roxanne. "And zero to anyone who touches something without gloves. I'm not writing to your parents about missing fingers."

Christina scanned the room. Twelve students total. No Austie - thank Merlin.

The guild roster:

1. Pomona Sprout - Guild Head. No nonsense.

2. Roxanne Bell - Hufflepuff, 2nd year. Knows every plant name in Latin. Already claimed the table with the Flutterby Bush.

3. Maria Kim - Gryffindor, 4th year. Here under protest. Still glaring at the Tentacula.

4. Diana Taylor - Gryffindor, 1st year. Nervous, but her hands stopped shaking when she saw the soil. "M-my Gran says I'm good with plants," she mumbled to Christina. And She smiled at her.

5. Lisa Bones - Hufflepuff, 2nd year. Niece of Amelia Bones. Quiet, but took notes in three colors.

6. Miranda Macmillan - Hufflepuff, 2nd year. "My family's been in Herbology since the 1600s," he announced to no one. Roxanne ignored him.

7. Kate Patil - Gryffindor, 1st year. Only here because Lavender said "plants are cute." Currently naming a Fanged Geranium "Sir Chompsalot."

8. Terry Boot - Ravenclaw, 2nd year. Reading One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi instead of listening.

9. Daisy Turpin - Ravenclaw, 2nd year. Sketching root systems in her notebook. Precise. Silent.

10. Cedric Diggory - Hufflepuff, 3rd year. Guild Mentor. "Don't worry, first-years," he said, grinning. "Sprout only lets the really deadly ones out after Christmas."

11. Niña Jones - Hufflepuff, 3rd year. Bandage on her thumb. "Mimbulus mimbletonia incident," she explained cheerfully. "It's worth it."

12. Christina Smith - Gryffindor, 1st year. The reason two Slytherins didn't join.

"Right," Sprout clapped. "This year's competition has four phases. Phase One: Identification and Harvest. You'll be graded on accuracy, speed, and how many limbs you keep."

Maria muttered, "Comforting."

"Today," Sprout went on, "we're starting light. Repotting Bouncing Bulbs. They don't bite. They just bruise. Pair up!"

Roxanne grabbed Christina's arm instantly. "Partners!"

Maria pointed at Diana. "You. You look like you won't drop it on my foot." Diana squeaked but nodded.

Cedric walked the room, adjusting grips, stopping bruises before they happened. He paused at Christina's table. "Heard about the Devil's Snare thing," he said quietly. Not gossip. Just... noting it. "Good job keeping calm. Most first-years freeze."

Christina slid a glove on. "Didn't have a choice."

"Still counts," he said. "Sprout likes calm. And anyone who can handle Devil's Snare without flinching? She'll remember that." He moved on. Christina chuckles and Cedric smiled at her as he slide his gloves on.

The Bouncing Bulb went exactly how you'd expect. Kate's hit the ceiling. Daisy's hit Daisy. Terry took notes while his Bulb bounced into Lisa's lap.

Christina's landed square in the pot. First try. No fuss. Sprout noticed. "Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Smith. Clean catch." Roxanne beamed. Maria, nursing a Bulb-shaped bruise on her shin, scowled. "Show-off."

After class, Sprout stopped Christina at the door. She pressed something into her hand. Small. White. A handkerchief. Embroidered with a rose and skeleton. A shield on the back.

Identical to James's.

Sprout's eyes were kind, but sharp. "Yours, I think. Found it in Greenhouse Five this summer. Odd place for a first-year's things."

Christina's throat went dry. Greenhouse Five was locked. Restricted. Where they kept the plants too dangerous for class. But this wasn't hers. She knew exactly whose handkerchief it was. James. He must have left it there. The realization hit Christina immediately - if it was his, there might be clues about him.

"Professor, I've never-"

"I know," Sprout cut in gently. "Which is why I'm curious how it got there." She tapped the rose. "This sigil. Old. Walker family. Sharmel Walker used it."

Christina's blood went cold.

"Keep it," Sprout said. "And Miss Smith? If you find more of your 'lost things' around my greenhouses... come to me first. Not to anyone." She walked away, leaving Christina standing in the doorway with Roxanne and Rowan.

Maria looked at the handkerchief. Then at Christina. "Okay. What was that?" Christina folded the cloth and tucked it into her robes. Next to the newspaper. Next to her questions.

"Herbology Guild," she said. "Definitely the right choice."

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Two weeks later - The Quidditch Game: Ravenclaw vs Slytherin

The wind bit hard across the Gryffindor stands. Christina hunched into her scarf. "Told you Herbology Guild was worth it," she yelled over the crowd.

Roxanne snorted, standing on the bench for a better view. "Yeah? I spent three hours yesterday de-gnoming flowerbeds with you. My back still hates me. But Professor Sprout said I had 'potential.' So I'm calling it a win."

"High praise from Sprout," Christina said. "That's rarer than a sunny Quidditch match."

"Oi! You two started without me?"

Rowan hauled herself up the steps, Gryffindor scarf flapping. Her nose was red from the cold. "If this is a club bragging contest, I'm joining late." Christina made room, eyes already on the pitch. Ravenclaw blue and Slytherin green cut across the sky. And there - Marco Lestrange. Ravenclaw Seeker. Robes neat, playing clean for once, but his eyes kept flicking toward the stands.

Opposite him, Charles Malfoy. Slytherin Seeker. Green trim, broom steady, face unreadable. He wasn't watching the Snitch yet. He was watching Marco.

"We're debating which club gets you injured the fastest," Christina said, not looking at Rowan.

Rowan plopped down. "Creature Care Corps. No contest. I got pecked by a Diricawl last Tuesday. Pecked. It disapparated after, like it was embarrassed for me. I joined last month. I have concerns."

"Herbology Guild's no picnic," Roxanne said. "We nearly got strangled by Devil's Snare. The intro lesson."

"A seedling," Christina added. But her eyes stayed on Charles. He'd shifted higher, shadowing Marco every time the Ravenclaw went for the Quaffle. Marco ignored him. For now.

Madam Hooch's whistle blew. The match started.

A Bludger whistled past the stands and the three of them flinched in unison. The crowd cheered.

"Point is," Christina said, distracted, "Herbology Guild gives you reflexes. You learn to duck fast or you end up fertilizer."

"Creature Care teaches you how to apologize to a Hippogriff," Rowan muttered. "Very useful life skill."

Christina started to reply - then froze. Another Bludger. Rogue. Knocked off course by a Slytherin Beater aiming for Marco. It ricocheted, spinning straight for the stands. Straight for her.

No time to draw her wand. No time to even swear. Blue and bronze blurred past the edge of the stands. Marco broke from his position as seeker, diving so low his boots almost skimmed the railing. His hand shot out and grabbed the Bludger mid-air, inches from Christina's face. The impact twisted him sideways, but he steadied, broom hovering.

The whole stadium went dead quiet. Then exploded. Charles had seen it. He'd pulled up mid-search, staring at Marco - then at Christina. His expression didn't change. But his knuckles went white on his broom.

Marco didn't look at Charles. Didn't gloat. He just shoved the Bludger back toward the pitch and glanced at Christina. One sharp nod. "Careful, Smith," he said. Barely loud enough to hear over the wind. Then he was gone, shooting back into play. Straight past Charles. Madam Hooch's whistle shrieked as she called a pause to reset the Bludgers. Christina's knuckles were white on the railing. She hadn't noticed she'd grabbed it. Rowan exhaled slowly. "Well. Herbology Guild didn't teach us that."

Roxanne's eyes darted from Marco to Charles to Christina. "Since when do Ravenclaw Lestranges abandon a match to save a Gryffindor? In front of a Slytherin Seeker?" Christina couldn't answer. Because Charles was still staring at her. And Marco was already angling to cut him off mid-air "I... I don't know," she said. Down on the pitch, Charles dropped into a dive. Not after the Snitch. After Marco.

This wasn't Ravenclaw vs Slytherin anymore.

This was Charles vs Marco.

And she was the reason.

As Christina watches the game, a small paper landed on her lap. Roxanne and Rowan didn't noticed it as they're too focused on the game. She slowly open the paper and read it on her mind.

Tina,

No matter what happens, don't trust anyone. Only yourself.

- J

"J?" Who was J? Christina stared at the crumpled scrap in her hand. Her breath hitched. Before she could read it again, the parchment flaked apart — disintegrating into dust between her fingers. Gone. Whose note was that? She scanned the stands. Eyes, scarves, shouting — everyone locked on the match. It was impossible to tell who’d dropped it in her lap. 

Christina forced her gaze back to the pitch, trying to lose herself in the game. It didn’t work. The question clawed at her: Who is J?

And worse — the note had said Tina. A chill ran down her spine. Whoever sent it knew her. Knew her nickname. But who?

Madam Hooch’s whistle cut through the noise and the Bludgers launched again. Game on. Except it wasn’t. Charles didn’t go back to hunting the Snitch. He dove straight for Marco.

Marco saw him coming. Didn’t dodge. He pulled up hard, broom leveling out, and waited. Let Charles close the gap until they were hovering ten feet apart, everyone else in the match suddenly background.

The crowd noticed. A weird hush rolled through the stands. Even the commentator stuttered. Charles’s voice was low. Quiet enough that only Marco — and maybe Christina, if the wind was kind — could hear. “You left your position.”

Marco’s grip on his broom didn’t shift. “You saw the Bludger.”

“I saw you choose a Gryffindor over the game.” Charles’s eyes cut to the stands. To Christina. Back to Marco.

Marco’s jaw ticked. “And?”

“And,” Charles said, “if you want to throw the match for her, do it where I don’t have to watch.” For a second, neither of them moved. Then Marco smiled. Not nice. Not warm. The kind of smile that meant someone was about to bleed.

“She wasn’t in the way, Malfoy. You were.” Charles surged forward. Not a full ram — Hooch would have him off the pitch for that — but close enough that his broom tip nearly clipped Marco’s knee.

A warning. A foul if Hooch saw. She didn’t. She was tracking the Quaffle.

Marco didn’t flinch. He rolled his broom sideways, let Charles pass, then dropped under him and shot up on his other side. Boxed him in with air. “Jealous doesn’t suit you. Slytherin’s supposed to be composed.”

“Ravenclaws are supposed to be smart,” Charles said. “Yet here you are, throwing games for a girl who won’t even say your name.” That hit. Marco’s expression blanked. Just for a heartbeat.

It was enough.

A Ravenclaw Beater sent a Bludger straight at Charles’s back — legal, clean, game play. Marco could’ve called a warning. He didn’t. Charles twisted at the last second. The Bludger grazed his shoulder and sent him spinning. He recovered fast, but his face was bloodless now. Furious.

He leveled his broom with Marco’s. Eye to eye. “Touch her again,” Charles said, voice flat, “and I won’t care who’s watching.” Marco tilted his head. “I wasn’t touching her. I was saving her. There’s a difference.”

“Not to me.”

Hooch’s whistle shrieked. “Malfoy! Lestrange! Back in play or you’re both benched!”

Neither of them looked at her.

Then, slow, Charles peeled off. Back to seeking. Back to pretending the Snitch mattered. Marco circled once, high above the pitch, and his eyes found Christina in the stands. Just for a second.

Then he dove, rejoining his team like nothing happened.

In the stands, Rowan whispered, “Holy hell.” Roxanne wasn’t looking at the game. She was looking at Christina. “Smith. What did you do to them?” Christina’s mouth was dry. “Nothing. I swear, I did nothing.” But both boys were still flying like the other one was the only person on the pitch.

To be Continued....

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