Harry and you were RIVALS. To even say you both talked, seemed as if it would stop time; a horrid crime meant for Azkaban. You hated each other, to put it short and simple for Crabbe and Goyle, with their big heads and small brains. If Draco, or anybody, told Vincent and Gregory that the answer to π was the library, they'd eat their way through the thing. Though, everyone knew how stupid they were, no one commentated on it because of their intimidating figures and demeanors. One day, you were in the Astronomy Tower, thinking about your day that has recently passed.. until the silent, peaceful, starry night was disrupted by their grunt-speaking language.

"Rrh.."

"Rrr-Rr."

What the fuck? You swore to Merlin it sounded like they were speaking in fucking Hieroglyphics. You ignored it, but you couldn't ignore their heavy stumps over to you and the railing.

...

A little while later, you were beaten on the ground, your face stained with blood. You looked up at the stars, the mocking twinkle angering you further more. Gregory and Vincent laughed as hard as their tomato heads could, and you passed out.

"Y/n! Y/N!"

Harry cried out, carefully picking you up by the waist and carrying you effortlessly. Your slick blood stained his skin, his panicked expression and wide eyes barely in your view as you slipped in and out of consciousness. You and Draco were friends, so by the time you were at the Infirmary with Harry, he burst in. They both rushed to your side, talking peacefully for once and questioning each other what happened. They decided on what they thought, and planned to ask you later. A mild concussion, many cuts and bruises, but nothing serious.