First of all, I'd like to let you know this is my first fan fiction! Criticism is always welcome, it'd be great to know where I could tweak some things! I do not own anything except the Valverdes, everything else belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling.
As the Weasleys and Harry waited their turn while standing in the queue, Malena couldn't help but overhear bits and pieces of their conversation.
"Excuse me," Malena's voice trembled as she managed to croak out the two words, it was the first time she had spoken since last night.
"Yes?" Arthur turned around, looking down at the girl with blood-struck eyes.
"I'm sorry for eavesdropping, Sir, but I heard you had an idea of who had conspired yesterday's attacks."
"Oh, well, see that mark?" He pointed up at the hazy skull floating between the clouds. "It's the Dark Mark, You-Know-Who's mark. His followers conjured it, the Death-Eaters."
Malena bit her lip as tears stung her eyes, "Oh."
"Are you alone?" Arthur noticed her stiffen a bit.
"The Spanish team's tent was attacked by the masked men yesterday. Some managed to escape, but my father had lent me his wand earlier that night and was..useless. They set the tents on fire afterwards." She muttered briefly, clenching her teeth harder against her chapped lips. She was sure her brown hair was tousled everywhere and as she lowered her eyes, embarrassed of not being able to contain herself in front of these strangers, she noticed her jeans were torn near her thighs and knees and her golden sweater had grass stains and smears around the scarlet letters that read "Spain" across her arms.
Arthur sighed deeply, "I am very sorry for your loss, Miss.."
"Valverde."
Ron's eyes widened a bit as he stepped forward, pointing his index finger at her as he slowly came to realization. "Was your father Spain's Se-"
"José María Valverde. Spain's Seeker, yes." She nodded quickly as she fiddled with her fingers.
She heard someone clear their throat and slowly say, "We are all very sorry for your loss, he was a great player." and as she raised her head to meet the speaker's gaze, and she recognized him. The Chosen One, The Boy who Lived, Harry Potter. As she scanned the rest of the ginger crowd, she noticed they were the Weasleys and next to Ron, stood a bushy haired girl she remembered dueling against last year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hermione.
The second their eyes met, Harry opened his mouth, "Aren't you in Hogwarts?"
"Yes, third year."
"You're in Slytherin, I remember you from our duel last year." Hermione said, a small smile of empathy curling up.
Unfortunately, not everyone was pleased at the revelation of her house. She noticed the red-haired clan wince a bit and Ron stepped back. The message was clear, her presence made them uncomfortable, and though she would usually dismiss these before, her vulnerability was low with everything that had gone on and she felt a pang of offense take over her body. Anger started bubbling inside her so she decided leaving now would be best before she spit anything she'd regret later on. She gave them a curt nod and stepped away from the line, reaching for her wand. She grabbed hold of an Irish scarf laying on the ground and whispered "Portus" before leaving.
"Portus. That's advanced magic. It's in 5th year's curriculum." Hermione said, her eyebrows crinkling.
"Oi, well you never know what you'll get with those Slytherins. Some dark wizard in her family probably taught it to her to escape from Aurors." Ron grumbled, turning to Harry, whose stare was still fixed upon the spot where Malena had disappeared.
There was something about her he couldn't shake. Although he was almost certain her mum was English, it was obvious her looks leaned over to her Spanish side. Her skin was olive instead of pale. Her auburn mane was dark and flowed down, spiraling at the ends near her elbows. She had dark eyes, almost black even, surrounded by thick eyelashes that outlined her almond-shaped eyes.
And last but not least, she was a Slytherin.