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"Where do you think you're going, Linden?"
Greta looked up from the paperback novel in her hand and found herself face to face with a pair of older students glaring down at her - a rare combination of Gryffindor and Slytherin friends. She knew she'd heard their names before, but she couldn't be bothered to think of them if they were going to get in her way. If she weren't in the middle of the intense ending of her book, she might not even be so annoyed.
"Muggle Studies class," she said, not quite glaring, but close, "Why, is that a problem?"
"Why should someone like you need to take that class?" the Gryffindor asked, flashing her friend a smile.
Greta searched her face for a sign that she was joking. There was a feeling gnawing at her stomach that she was being made fun of, and after the few interactions she'd had with this girl, she was inclined to trust the instinct.
"Ask the Headmaster, I'm just trying not to be late," she said, keeping her voice as even and firm as she could.
"And what's this?" the Slytherin sneered, snatching the book out of her hands and turning it over, "What boring muggle names. Why would you read this, and in the middle of a wizarding school? You should be so grateful to be allowed entrance here that you rid yourself of this rubbish entirely."
Feeling very much like the bullied girl in her book, Greta's throat closed up as her eyes began to sting. She didn't mind the verbal jabs, but seeing her book snatched from her so easily was terrifying. It would absolutely destroy her to have it damaged or ruined, and it would be so easy to do it.
"The book is about a witch," she snapped, though she was shaking, "You would know that if you actually took the time to read it."
She didn't mention that it was ending with the girl using her magic to kill her bullies, but the thought of pulling out her wand and setting them on fire gave her a bit of comfort.
"Stupid mudblood," the Slytherin girl spat, tossing the book back as the Gryffindor pulled out her wand, "Thinking some muggle-written witch is better than the real thing."
Greta fumbled with the book for a moment before clutching it tightly to her chest. Fuming at the name she'd been called and the girl's putting words in her mouth, she began to shout, "I never said--!"
"Expelliarmus!" Quirinus' familiar voice exclaimed, before he appeared in front of her, facing the older girls. The Gryffindor's wand went flying, and she gave a harsh laugh.
"I don't think I've ever heard you say a complete spell on the first try."
"Leave- Leave her alone," he stammered, his wand still raised, "Wh-What d-did she ever d-d-d--"
"Poor Quirrell, can't even defend your girlfriend without stuttering," the Slytherin girl interrupted, giggling.
"Girlfriend?" the Gryffindor barked, "Everyone knows Linden plays for the other team." She made a peace sign over her mouth and stuck her tongue between the two fingers.
"Gross, is that why she's always staring at Sybil?"
Greta's face burned as she stared at the floor with her hair hanging in her face, and she understood why Quirinus preferred his that way.
"Really? Ew, but it's not like Sybil is getting any attention from guys anyway," the other girl cackled.
Greta's vision was too blurry to see exactly what happened next, but there was a scuffle and a loud crack, and suddenly Quirinus was lying at her feet with a splattering of blood next to his head.
Instantly, she was on her knees beside him, wiping the tears from her eyes and noting the older girls scurrying away in her periphery. She turned him onto his back, relieved to find him dazed but conscious. Blood was pouring from his nose, which was clearly broken, and she couldn't stop more tears from falling.
"I'm sorry about this," she said, pointing her wand at his nose, "Episky."
He cried out in pain as the cartilage was forced back into place, and Greta pulled an extra tissue from her pocket and held it over his nose.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," she murmured, choking up as she tried not to break down sobbing.
Quirinus sat up, replacing her hand over his face with his own, and said, "Don't ap- apologize, I- I should be th-thanking you."
She gave him a shaky smile, but her face crumpled the instant he smiled back.
"What's wrong?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, "It's n-not me, is it? I- I'm- I'm okay, I p-promise."
"I know," she whispered as her eyes went down to the floor and filled with tears again. She put a hand over his, her heart flipping when he didn't pull away.
"Is- Is it what they said?" he asked, lowering his voice, "Ab- About you like- liking girls?"
She completely broke down then, hearing him say it out loud, and he scooted closer to her.
"It- It's alright, I d-don't care," he said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, though there was an edge to his voice that told her he did. Still, hearing him say it to comfort her, and the fact that he could touch her without being entirely disgusted, was more than she'd expected.
Then again, he had just tried to fight for her and gotten hurt in the process. Maybe he really did accept it. She considered mentioning that she liked boys, but she'd heard the way some people talked about those who seemed to want both.
"Thank you," she whispered instead, "I'm sorry she hurt you because of me."
"Because of you? Y-You're not the one who tr-tried to tackle her."
Despite everything, Greta snorted, wishing she had seen him do it.
"But you only did it because of what she said about me," she pointed out, "I've never seen you do that."
"Oh, s-some of the boys p-pl-play games like that - Of course, I'm n-not very good at it--"
"No, I meant," she cut in, as he curiously stared at her, "You never stand up to bullies when they're targeting you. Why now?"
He suddenly looked down, his hair falling over his face, and he fidgeted with his wand.
"It- It's like you said, I suppose... Because it w-wasn't me," he slowly answered, "I was m-more a-a-angry than anything."
"I don't know if I've ever seen you angry."
He glanced at her, raising his brows as if doubting her statement.
"What?" she asked.
Looking away again, he admitted, "I'm u-usually angry, these days. All the t-t-time, really."
"Oh," she said, feeling very stupid, "I didn't realize..."
"I tr-try not to show it. I m-mean, it's not like I can do anything with it... Or, I d-d-don't know how to..." he huffed and shook his head, "Whenever this stuff h-happens to me I'm always m-more scared than anything."
He looked down at her book, smiling when he recognized it.
"I've read that. I wish I c-could be like her."
"We are like her," Greta said with a quiet laugh, "We have real magic."
He shook his head, quietly saying, "I w-want to make- make them pay."
She watched him, with his intense stare at the book and his small fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
"Quirinus, we're better than that. You're better than that."
When he glanced up at her, his eyes softened slightly despite his lips that were pressed together in an angry line.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize, I'd just hate to see you stoop to their level," she said, squeezing his shoulder, "Besides, you wouldn't hurt a fly."
Something unfamiliar to Greta - something dark - flashed in his eyes as he murmured, "I c-could, if- if I wanted to."
"Of course you could," she said, wrapping an arm around him, "But you wouldn't. That's what I love about you."
His eyes darted up at hers, and the strange intensity dissipated when she smiled at him.
"I- I love you too," he told her, hugging her tightly, "I'll always b-be your friend, no m-matter what."
Greta buried her face in his shoulder and squeezed him as hard as she could.