Saturday morning, Melody woke to a marching band in her head. The drum pounded even in the solitude of her room. The previous night was blurred, but Melody could clearly recall the disgrace in Harry’s eyes as he let her fall for the first time. As the image reoccurred in her mind, she took one of her silk throw pillows and didn’t throw, but hurled it into the sitting room.
Melody was just stepping out of bed when a strange face flew through the door. Celeste’s face was a mix of concern and chaos as she demanded Melody’s attention.
“I think you better come with me, Melody,” she said reaching out a hand.
“What?” Melody said, not at all sure how to respond.
Losing patience, Celeste grabbed Melody’s arm and they were gone from the room. They reappeared outside. Melody was lost until she heard Hermione’s pleading with Harry behind her.
Melody spun around to find Marcel looking down upon Harry’s wand at his neck.
“What are you intentions?” Harry snarled.
It was a slow reaction, but Melody rushed over and wrapped her hand around Harry’s wand.
The three formed that triangle around the wand for a long time before Harry let up.
“What do you see in this mess?” Harry asked sharply.
“Well, what do you see in that blow-up doll?” Melody replied looking over his shoulder at Sarah, “Furthermore, why should you care?”
That was exactly the wrong thing to say, for Harry looked as if he was about to attack Melody.
“Just go,” Melody said before turning to Marcel.
She couldn’t help but laugh at the terror remaining on his face. She turned expecting to share the joke with Ron and Hermione, but they were away with Harry and Sarah. From a distance, the four walking away reminded Melody of a happier time where the long, brown braids of Sarah would have been her own golden locks.
In seconds, she was awake to her loss. She stood silent for a long time before she fell to her knees and collapsed on the ground. She felt the world crumble around her, and for a moment, she escaped into a daze. It wasn’t until she felt the warmth of an arm around her that she was revived.
Celeste was kneeling beside her pulling the hair from her tear-stained face. Melody tried to find the right words for the moment, but she was hushed as Marcel sat down on her other side.
Celeste rigidly acknowledges him before leaving them alone.
Sitting here, he just let her cry on his shoulder. He calmed her by stroking her hair as half an hour passed.
When Melody was at last silent, he sat her up on her own and said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Melody replied meekly.
He looked past her to the river beyond before explaining, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you last night. I was just so…stressed out about ‘im being ‘ere that I ‘ad to get my mind off it. I’m sorry.”
Melody looked at his dream-like face before wrapping her arms around his neck and embraced him.
“You shouldn’t be threatened by him. It’s not worth it.”
As they laughed, Marcel rose and helped Melody to her feet. He slid his arm around the back of her waist and together, they returned to the dorm lounge.
Within the hour, they went with their little slips of paper to enter their names in the goblet.
The foyer was covered in the blue hue of the goblet, but Melody instantly recognized the small busload from Hogwarts rallying around some one. It took less than one guess to know who.
Harry was pumping the small crowd for flattery as he kept sarcastically threatening to not enter.
Melody decided to make her presence known so with a wave of her hand, the door slammed and a paper crane nailed Harry in the back of the head.
She stepped out from her group and met Harry on the other side of the goblet. Though it was slightly useless, Melody pulled her wand from her jacket and pressed its point against Harry’s chest.
“You really need to watch your back. May I talk to you in private, or does your fan club have rules against that?”
“What do you want?” Harry asked as he had no choice but to move with the wand pressing into his chest.
“Don’t ever meddle with my affairs again,” Melody said, lowering her wand, “You didn’t have the right to attack people when we were together and you sure as Hell don’t have the right now.”
“Trust me! After this morning, I doubt it will ever happen again.”
“No,” Melody replied quietly.
“’No’ what?”
“I won’t trust you.”
With that, Melody turned her back on him and let her slip of paper float into the goblet. Marcel did the same as Melody prepared to move on to the library. Melody felt twenty foreign eyes on her as she began to climb the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder and even Seamus was giving her a foreboding stare. The only kind eyes belonged to Neville and even those had grown somehow colder.
“Oh, Melody!” Harry called from below, “I thought you might like to see this.”
Soaring through the air up to her was a small newspaper clipping. Melody’s heart truly broke as is landed in her hand, for it bore a familiar face.
CHANCELLE PLEADS INNOCENT “ IMPERIO CURSE
Mr. Richard Chancelle, former Ministry French correspondent, who was convicted of doing the Dark Lords bidding this past spring is now screaming his innocents. A very likely story, he is blaming the Imperio Curse for his demise…
The story went on but Melody could no longer read it through watery eyes. She froze to make an awful comment to Harry about the fact that she still had a father, but she refused and followed Marcel’s arm leading her up the stairs.
“He’s worse than Malfoy,” Melody said as they escaped into the library.