ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ 1-3

friendships (and a fistfight)

a/n: some supportive gryffindor first year moments. i actually forgot how much i love these guys :').

"I'm going to play," Harry told us the next morning. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. It'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," Hermione said gently.

We sat together at breakfast again, Harry now eating much more easily than he had his first match. He seemed to want to fuel himself to tackle whatever was to come.

Dean, Seamus, and Neville (I was realizing quickly they were always the last to arrive in the morning of the first years) walked in shortly after. I watched Dean curiously, hoping he wouldn't see me staring. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed he fancied me all this time. I was still reeling from the previous day, everything had happened so quickly.

I was happy that Dean took it so well. I really did enjoy being his friend. I hoped he would still enjoy being mine even if I didn't like him like that. He suddenly turned toward the table, so I smiled. He returned it with a wave. Seamus ended up ushering the both of them over toward us.

"Good luck today Harry. Hope Snape won't give you too hard of a time," Seamus clapped him on the back. Harry shrugged.

"Whatever happens, I can handle it," he said with more confidence than he probably felt.

"I don't think throwing up on him is going to help anybody," I told Harry, noticing the rate at which the toast was disappearing from the table. "Slow down. And drink some water, for the love of God."

"We'll be rooting for you," Dean told him. "If anything happens we'll be there to help."

"Thank you all," Harry rolled back his shoulders and took a large gulp of water. "I'm ready as I'll ever be."

After wishing Harry good luck an hour later, Ron, Hermione, and I found our way to Neville, Seamus, and Dean in the stands. Neville seemed to be eyeing our wands, worried. I didn't tell him that we'd been preparing the Leg-Locker Curse for Snape in case he were to act. He looked rather upset to be there, in fact, I didn't think I'd ever seen him so angry.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Ron said to Hermione and I. "Look — they're off. Ouch!"

I looked to Ron, then behind him. I scowled. Malfoy again.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

"Don't you ever get tired of being a prick?" I snapped at him. He sneered at me.

"Don't you ever get tired of talking?"

"Get out of here, Malfoy," Dean warned. "We're just trying to watch the game."

"That's great, Thomas, but I don't care," Malfoy scoffed, scowl deeper than usual.

"You're on the wrong side of the stands," I glared at Malfoy. "You'd better go before someone a little less kind decides you don't belong here."

"Like who?" Malfoy laughed dryly. "Longbottom?" Neville tensed at this. "Besides, the view's better over here. Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron was doing his best to ignore him, focusing on the game, as was Hermione. Malfoy stayed silent for another few minutes. I didn't bother looking back up at him, turning my attention to the game and moving closer to the other Gryffindors.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."