"I've spent all of the love I saved.
We were always a losing game."
━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━
She's a Gryffindor. He's a Slytherin.
She's a Weasley. He's a Malfoy.
She's sweet. He's a bully.
She's dangerous. He's dangerous.
She likes him. He likes he...
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╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮ Is it lonely where you are? All the way across the room With a knife inside your heart I feel it too ╰━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╯
Almost a week had passed since the students had returned from Christmas break and the first Quidditch match of the term had been and gone. Ravenclaw took to the skies against Slytherin and when the final whistle blew, those in blue and bronze robes touched back to the ground with defeated looks. Wood, on the other hand, was invigorated by the loss. It was good news for the Gryffindor team so long as they beat Ravenclaw in the next match.
As the first month of a new year passed, Cassie realised she saw less and less of her friends. Hermione was consistently bogged down with homework; the workload seemed ever growing. Despite asking numerous times if she required any help, Cassie had been chased away by Hermione's harsh words and ferocious scowl. By the time February rolled around, the redhead had grown sick of only hearing her brother's constant complaining. It started to feel as if the only companion she truly had was her homework. God, my life is sad.
Whilst Seamus and Dean did their best to spend time with her, they too were struggling to keep on top of their essays and so the majority of their time together was often spent with them asking for her help. Quidditch practice had been increased to five times a week as the days to the upcoming match grew shorter. Therefore, the only time she managed to see Harry was between time-tabled classes and during their anti-Dementor lessons. During which, they spoke little and the distance grew. Harry was frustrated that he wasn't doing as well as he had hoped. Cassie, however, was doing exceptionally well (as Remus continued to point out) despite having no expectations of succeeding. Her Patronus had morphed from a soft silver wisp to a fully-fledged claw. Whilst Remus had assured her that they would likely discover what animal it was soon, the Weasley had no desire to push herself the way Harry was. After all, the Patronus was advanced magic. Most adult Witches and Wizards hadn't mastered the art of a true Patronus.
Wrapped up warm to battle the icy wind nipping at her cheeks and nose, she closed her book with a deep sigh. The time on her watch informed her that if she didn't move soon, she would be late for the Quidditch match. Carefully climbing down from the tree she had been taking solace in, she made her way across the courtyard. A familiar sinking sensation sat in her chest; a feeling she had been accustomed to the past month or so. The first time it had happened, the young witch almost went to Madam Pomfrey, convinced she was falling ill. When it continued to happen the following week, she brushed it off as being a new reaction to the idea of being around people.
As Cassie drew closer to the stadium full of cheering students, she realised she felt as if she were walking to her doom. If not for the fact that Harry had begged her to be there as support, she would've turned around and gone back to bed. Flags hung from wooden poles that dotted the path to the arena. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw banners hung in a pattern, reminding students of the teams that were playing.
