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Lyra stormed away from the muddy battlefield, her breathing still uncontrolled, her fists still trembling. She could hear the rain clearly harder now, the cold sting against her hurting.
Behind her, her friends followed silently, offering her the space they knew she needed.
They entered the dungeons together. Lyra walked over to the fireplace, the flames crackling softly, offering warmth, but she could still feel the cold grip of the rain and her anger clinging to her.
Astoria was the first to break the silence, rushing to Lyra's side with wide, concerned eyes. "Lyra, you're bleeding, what happened?" she whispered, her voice soft. She reached out and gently touched the corner of Lyra's lip where blood had dried. "Let me help you."
Lyra stood there, letting her guard down for the first time since the fight. Her adrenaline was crashing, leaving her feeling drained and empty. "I'm fine," she mumbled, her voice cracking.
"You're not fine," Theodore Nott muttered, stepping closer, his eyes studying her with a quiet intensity. "That was, intense, Lyra. You should sit down, rest. Let us help."
Draco Malfoy, who had been standing by the door with his arms crossed since they entered, nodded toward Blaise Zabini, who disappeared down the hallway to grab something.
Draco's expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of approval in his cold eyes. "You certainly showed her," he sneered, though his tone was more rough than supportive. "Gryffindors deserve that kind of humiliation."
"Honestly, Angelina didn't stand a chance," Daphne chimed in, her voice filled with both admiration and a hint of relief.
She was always sharp with her words, but right now, there was a softness when she looked at the girl. "But you should really sit. You're a mess." She laughed softly.
Blaise returned with a towel and a bottle of salve. He handed the items to Astoria, who gently led Lyra to one of the plush emerald sofas by the fireplace. "Sit," Astoria demanded firmly, and Lyra obliged. Astoria had always been like a little sister to her.
Daphne knelt beside her, tilting Lyra's chin up as she examined the blood trickling from her nose. "This'll sting a bit," she warned, gently putting salve on the cuts along Lyra's lip and nose. Lyra winced a bit, but endured.
"You didn't have to go that far, you know," Blaise broke the heavy silence from where he leaned against the wall, his eyes studying her with quiet amusement. "But I won't say it wasn't entertaining."
"Entertaining?" Theo muttered with a smug, narrowing his eyes at Blaise. "She nearly knocked Angelina unconscious. I think she had a point to prove."
Lyra's gaze remained fixed on the fire infront of her, barely hearing the words being exchanged around her. All she could think about was what Angelina had said.
"Here," Astoria whispered, kneeling beside her again. She began to towel off Lyra's hair, her movements gentle and patient. "You don't have to think about her anymore. It's over. I can't believe you fought her for me." She shook her head, a guilt written expression flashing through her face.
"She had it coming," Marcus Flint, who had been watching quietly from the corner, finally spoke up."You don't mess with one of us and expect to walk away. Gryffindors always act like they're better than everyone."
Adrian Pucey chuckled from where he lounged on another couch. "And here I thought Fred Weasley would've stopped you. Guess he's not as heroic as he likes to think."
Lyra's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Fred. She felt Theodore watching her closely, before he sighed softly.
"Ignore them," Theo said quietly, stepping closer to her, his voice low. "You need to focus on yourself right now, not whatever rumour Angelina and her friends are spreading."
"You did good," Draco said, his voice cutting through the silence. "But don't let it distract you from what matters."
"What matters," Lyra repeated, her voice a mere whisper. She wasn't sure what mattered anymore. Quidditch? The rivalry with Fred? Her pride? It all felt like a mess inside her.
"Quidditch match is tomorrow," Blaise reminded her. "You need to be focused."
Lyra nodded absently, she had completely forgot about that. She wasn't thinking about Quidditch. She was thinking about Fred Weasley and the strange look in his eyes before she had walked away from the fight.
Astoria continued drying her hair, offering soothing words. Blood continued running down her chin as Astoria gently wiped her wounds, the blood left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. But the taste was nowhere as bitter as Angelina's behaviour earlier.
She was tired.
But most of all, she was tired of pretending Fred didn't get under her skin.
Godrick, how was she acting? Was she honestly gonna let this tear down her pride, her motivation, her courage?
"We're gonna win tomorrow." She suddenly said, earning the reaction of the people around her.
"That's the spirit." Theodore boasted, flashing her a proud smile.
"We're gonna win, and throw the biggest party known in Hogwarts history." She smiled slightly. Her sudden change of behaviour seemed to calm her friends, and they grew more cheerful by the second, returning to their usual behaviours.
"And if we don't win, we'll still throw a huge party, celebrating your victory against Angelina." Daphne giggled, throwing herself onto one of the emerald green sofa's in the common room.
The group laughed together, and Lyra finally felt her old self returning, she finally felt like she belonged somewhere, and she wasn't confused anymore.
Maybe Angelina hadn't won the fight, but she had certainly knocked some sense into the Slytherin girl, because she had never felt this confident.
This prideful.
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