Letters I Can't Send

Y/n's POV

With the weeks creeping closer to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, everyone has started their bets on who will win the task, and what the first task will be.

Draco and his goons have made Potter Stinks badges for Hogwarts, so that him and his bias ass can make known who they are rooting for. Cedric Diggory. If I was being honest, Cedric looks much more fit for winning than Harry Potter—then again, Cedric was the first pick to represent our school, whilst Harry was a...mishap (that's what people are calling it). But they say he has to still compete in the tournament, so I suppose I must choose who to bet on.

But,  Quinn and I were talking across the courtyard when it happened, and I happened to already be staring in that particular direction when Harry Potter walked past (unfortunately) Draco Malfoy.

Draco sits in a tree, nonchalant, like he's so cool or something, when he calls down to Harry. "Why so tense Potter?" Harry pays no mind to him and continues walking until Draco goes on. "My father and I have a bet you see—I don't think you're going to last ten minutes in this tournament," Harry stops and dares to look at Draco as he hops down from the tree. "He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five."

As him and his henchmen start laughing, Harry takes a few fast paced steps toward the blonde. "I don't give a damn about what your father thinks, Malfoy," he pushes Draco so that he stumbles back a step or two. "He's vile and cruel, and you're just pathetic."

I glance at Quinn who is also watching the scene unfold. She meets my gaze and lifts her eyebrows in a quirky way.

We watch as Harry begins to walk away, while Draco fumbles to retrieve his wand from a pocket in his cloak. But just as he points his wand at Harry, a jet of light protruding from another's wand hits him.

We watch in utter shock as Draco's form swirls downward, taking form of a...ferret? I laugh out loud when I see him so small and delicate. I clamp my hand over my mouth.

Professor Mad Eye Moody comes hobbling as fast as he can with his peg leg, over to Ferret-Draco, his wand outstretched. He starts saying things, scolding the ferret probably, but we are too far away to hear.

Mood starts levitating Ferret-Draco, up and down, up and down. As Moody continues to throw around the Ferret-Draco. Until Professor McGonagall rushes up and puts an end to the unruly acts, transforming poor Draco back into a person.

His hair is disheveled and he looks like he just went through a windmill, his face permanently stuck on a cross between shock and utter anger.

"My father will hear about this!" he calls to Moody as he stumbles backing up towards the tree, just for Moody to...chase him around the trunk of the tree until Draco runs off with his goons.

A crowd has formed around the scene, everyone laughing to the point of tears. It's been weeks since I had a laugh like this.

..........

November stumbles upon us, chilling the air and tousling our hair. The first task is in a week, and word is spreading that the first task has something to do with dragons.

Since Quinn and I have made up, I've been much better, eating more. Taking care of myself.

As for Draco, things are as icy as we've always been. My request still stands for him to stay away from me, though.

Tonight, I found myself in the library by myself. Well, except for one person—Harry Potter. I'm studying in a corner, books flooding the small table I sit at. I can feel his eyes on me every so often, and it's a bit discomforting, I must say.