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THIS IS SUCH A GOOD ONESHOT LIKE FKDKFJ

      Love and Cold Dishes

                                       Hogwarts!au

        Slytherin!Jeon Jungkook x Slytherin!Reader

                   Gryffindor!Jung Jaehyun x Reader 

                                               One 

Summary: JK is a notorious figure in the halls of Hogwarts. Pure blooded, talented, and somewhat cold, he is the textbook definition of everything it means to be Slytherin. The unfazed, unapproachable, and unobtainable aura the male exudes was the holy trinity that attracted the eyes of many, enemies and admirers alike. When your every move and interaction is judged and scrutinized, it’s not exactly uncalled for to attempt to cut off the problem at its root. And as far as JK is concerned, the everyone else are just mere nuisances. His greatest wish is to disappear.

(Y/N) (L/N) was sorted into Slytherin house before the hat had even touched her head. A feat, the headmaster claimed, only ever once repeated by the pale-haired heir of the of the infamous, long-stories Pureblooded Wizarding families in history. Half-blooded and fairly quiet, it didn’t take long for the initial novel interest in her to die down and be replaced with scorn instead. She found herself largely ignored by her housemates; never bullied, but not quite seen as belonging. The girl had always preferred her own thoughts and logic to the whimsies of others, but the more-than-passing notion that she had made no meaningful connections throughout her schooling began to plague her heart more and more. In this life, (Y/N) wanted nothing more than to be seen.

So when two people, with opposite lifestyles and goals but exceedingly firm beliefs cross paths, why, instead of setting off nasty explosions, were sparks flying magnificently instead?

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Honestly, you were very surprised when the sorting hat called out your house with no hesitation.

If you’d asked your father, he’d no doubt say he bled red and gold without a second thought. As a way of bonding with you, he’d share stories of the theatrics and misadventures he and his friends had gotten up to during his time wandering the halls of Hogwarts.

He spoke of Quidditch, of friendly ghosts, of beautiful paintings who told them their stories. He spoke of the goodness of yellow and the genius of blue.

He spoke with such pride when he looked into your mother’s eyes and swore up and down she’d have been the first to be sorted into the two.

He spoke the romance of his youth into a fantasy in your mind, where the courageous were the most dashing heroes to be gracing these four walls.

But when he spoke, well…He never mentioned green at all.

You didn’t understand.

Slytherin? Was there something wrong with you?

It’s one thing to be sorted into Slytherin, but another thing to lean so overwhelmingly in that direction that it made you question your own character.  You knew stereotypes were just that – stereotypes, but Slytherins weren’t exactly known for exuding kindness and civility, and you don’t consider yourself a cruel girl. But the sorting hat has proven on several occasions that it absolutely abhors being doubted, so, amongst the stares and whispers, you sucked it up and found your place amongst the snakes you presumed you’d have been warned about had your father even bothered to mention them.

And unfortunately, it didn’t take very long for your dreaded prediction to come true. You were a pariah in your own House.

Not one to bully, you never really participated in the House rivalry Slytherin had going on with the rest of Hogwarts. Rather, you promptly acknowledged that your housemates were pretty similar to you; very prideful and self-assured, so opposing viewpoints weren’t looked upon favorably. You understood them, because they reminded you of yourself. As a matter of fact, the only difference was that your mother had always taught you to learn from those you didn’t agree with so that you could better understand them, though it didn’t mean you had to agree. This common sentiment so often cited in the muggle world was lost on the pureblooded heirs of Slytherin, it seemed. And this glaring at-odds way of approaching dissidents compared to your housemates came from the most muggle thing about you – your mother.

As a muggle thrust into the wizarding world rather unceremoniously, your mother could never reconcile the sheer divisiveness of the Wizarding Community compared to the Muggle World, where everyone was essentially forced to live amongst and tolerate those with differing views. She quickly learned that the wizarding world was what the muggle world could become if expressing such violent, intolerant sentiments were expressly allowed - thus she promptly raised you as a muggle until the age of 11.

Your father had always been in and out of your life before then, your parents’ relationship in a weird state of limbo that you were entirely sure was your mother’s paranoid doing.

But you – you were daring, and bold, and opinionated in thought – a carbon copy of your father. His likeness, his passion, his honesty – you received it all from him, and it scared her. She was afraid his mere magical existence would influence you, even though your very existence had proven how much hers had influenced him. The countless letters he’d written begging for a chance to live as a family culminated in him willing to give up the entirety of the wizarding world for you two – the love story of the century, restricted to being known in full only to a select few…Or so you thought.

“Wasn’t her father besodden with a muggle?”

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“A blood traitor’s half-blood spawn in the (L/N) family – how preposterous!”

Such words had become a common occurrence, and after a while you became numb to the ridicule. You refused to grovel to the ignorant, of course.

But your fantasy Hogwarts life had been ruined, and you spent your days alone with only your own mind for company.

You expected nothing different for your sixth year.

Up to this point,  you couldn’t help but wish more and more for a bit of the so-called friendship everyone else took for granted in their day-to-day lives.

You wanted to share your feelings, you wanted to laugh with someone, you wanted a shoulder to cry on. You wanted to become something more than a flower on the wall one would pick at to feel more beautiful, more than a forever-enclosed bud amongst blossoms.

But you were never given that chance, because as strong as your desires were, your pride, values and stubbornness that you got from your father held strong… and reflected unapologetically in just how you were raised by your mother.

And so another year began, bound to be the same.

As an avid reader, you’d like to confidently say that the library was your safe space. All the interesting knowledge you could find was readily available, and the temptation of forbidden texts would always lurk in your heart as well. But surprisingly, you soon came to loathe how populated it could be, and instead found yourself searching for quieter grounds.

Following countless times of getting lost in Hogwarts’ entrapping corridors, you’d promptly made up your mind that it’d be nothing short of justified to sue the historic school for child endangerment. Blood pressure high and mood now sour, you decided to make your way to the school grounds instead.

Angrily stomping along, you weren’t exactly paying attention to your surroundings. So when a whip-like branch suddenly smacked you dead in the face, the sheer volume of the screech that left your lips was enough to startle your attacker as well, the limb that had wrapped itself around your waist rapidly loosening.

Gaining your bearings, you belatedly realize that you had been ferociously attacked by the Whomping Willow. A bloody tree had just bitch-slapped you into next Wednesday, and then had the gall to act surprised by your reaction. Hurriedly putting some distance between you and the tree, the massive volume of expletives leaving your lips were enough to make the singular soul who witnessed the entire  interaction turn red in embarrassment.

Jeon Jungkook had been minding his business, snugly nestled amongst the branches of a nearby willow tree that wasn’t violent enough to catch a murder charge. He’d found this spot his second year, after realizing that the students rarely got close to even the surrounding areas of the Whomping Willow, too afraid of the possibility of what he was currently witnessing.

His tree was close, but far enough that his presence never triggered an adverse reaction from the perverted deciduous nearby. Any wandering students quickly cleared the area once they realized where they were, so he’d never had to deal with anyone else disturbing his peace.

That is, until now.

As he watched you curse the tree in about a thousand different ways, he noted the Slytherin scarf secured tightly around your neck. He scanned his memories for something familiar, but failed to find your face amongst them. He wasn’t exactly social amongst those of his own year, so this didn’t surprise him.

What did surprise him was when, still cursing, you yanked your wand from your robes and furiously started throwing spells at the Whomping Willow. After watching a few of them hit, he realized that the spells weren’t violent in nature, doing nothing but splattering bright pigments of color against its bark. Reds, oranges, and pinks soon dyed the trunk of the willow, making for an interesting sight.

But, while technically harmless, the influx of attacks did nothing short of enraging it.

The tree’ limbs were violently flailing about as it desperately tried to reach you, who taunted it from a safe distance with a look of immense smugness and glee.

“Do you know how much that fucking hurt? You bloody menace, I’m going to come here every single fucking night and paint you in the colors of misery and humiliation! It felt as if my head twisted around my neck – bloody hell, should I really sue this godforsaken school? Should I just kill this thing? Should I march up to the headmaster with all your pathetic little branches in my arms? Only you can get violent, is that it?  You’re lucky you’re getting off with just paint, I should have shaved a few layers of bark off of you to teach you a lesson –” you ranted, hexes flowing freely from your wand even as you talked.

At some point, the bark hadn’t been enough for you, and you started zapping entire branches an obnoxious shade of blue.

As he watched the spectacle in front of him, a fucking tree going absolutely batshit and a girl with more than just a little crazy in her eyes, for the first time this year, Jungkook lost it.

He laughed so loudly it startled you right out of your hateful monologue, and you whipped your head around to the source of the noise.

That proved to be a dire mistake as your neck froze up in protest, the earlier smack from that stupid tree doing more than a little damage. You fell to your knees rather dramatically, scowling up at the boy in the non-threatening tree he was perched in.

Your face was full of blame as you clutched at your aching neck, and the ridiculousness of the situation only made him laugh harder.

It took several moments for Jungkook to calm himself down, and by that point you’d made yourself comfortable on the same spot you fell at. You had fallen onto your back at some point, staring begrudgingly up at the sky. Noting the lack of laughter in the background now, you carefully inclined your head up again, Jungkook’s upside down countenance coming into view a few feet away from you.

“Are you done laughing at my pain?” you harrumphed.

“You seemed to be handling it pretty well earlier,” he responded cheekily. You felt your face grow warm, choosing to roll your eyes. You made a show of procuring your precious book from your robes, before promptly beginning to leaf through it.

“Are you always so aggressive?”

He didn’t know why he was even talking to you, but you made such a lasting impression on him at this point that it made him curious.There’s little in the way of interest for him nowadays, so to his surprise he found himself drawn to your exceedingly chaotic energy.

You ignored his inquiry as you continued to read, so he took the chance to study your appearance. You were by no means unpleasant to look at, and despite your disheveled appearance he couldn’t help but stare a little. The fact that you were so stubbornly pretending as if he didn’t exist was impressive really, and made him snicker a little.  The marvels of your face were in full force as your habit of narrating what you read bled through. The pretty pink of your lips formed words he wished to know, telling a story he began quite curiously wishing he was a part of. It wasn’t until the noise of the Whomping Willow still raging in the background rang through again before he snapped out of his daze. Looking back at the tree in embarrassment, he collected himself before turning back to you with a devilish grin.

“Are you insane?” he continued.

The stupid question made you flinch, and you carefully turned towards him again. Were you insane? You didn’t think so. Your stinging cheek and aching neck proved otherwise. By the way, why is he even talking to you? You couldn’t remember ever even having a conversation with this boy, yet he accuses you of being insane?

At this point, you already recognized who he was. The infamous Jeon Jungkook was right here in front of you, suspiciously antagonizing you. You don’t really know how to react. Your lips pursed and your eyes narrow, an expression that rang faint warning bells in Jungkook’s mind.

Sighing, you shook your head and pointed at him in accusation.

“You’re insane. How could you watch a young lady such as myself be attacked by such a violent creature without doing anything to help? Isn’t that dereliction of duty as a fellow student? Are all boys these days as pathetic as you?”

Completely caught off guard at the unexpected attack, he gaped at you. He didn’t even know you, yet you so easily accused him of dereliction of – of – what duty, exactly?

Did you just twist the entire situation into being his fault? His fault? And did you just call him pathetic?

Pathetic?

Him?

“Are you actually out of your mind?” he choked out, eyes bulging.

Jungook had never been called pathetic in his life, the word making his eyebrows furrow and his neck tense. You had to have been the most absurd person he’d ever met; there was no possible way to wrap his mind around how such an offensive girl with so many large screws loose was sorted into his house.

He jumped down from the tree, making his way towards where you sat. You had begun ignoring him again, going back to your book. He caught a glimpse of the name on the cover as you did so, The Count of Monte Cristo. He’d never heard of such a book before, but he’d also never heard of such a person as you, so of course your tastes would be eccentric as well.

You had leaves on your head from when the tree smacked you, he clocked in amusement. The book you held looked worn and well-loved, the pages wrinkling under your fingertips. You had pretty fingers, he also noted. The look in your eyes had seemed to finally calm down as you peacefully sat while you read, completely ignoring the Whomping Willow and its still ongoing tantrum.

The entire scene before him didn’t seem the slightest bit real, and Jungkook wondered in passing if it was part of your norm to say and do outrageous things without blinking.

“If one is indulging in the greatest revenge story of all time, then one must treat revenge not as insanity, but as a duty,” you said suddenly. He looked at you as if you had two heads, not knowing what to make of you or how to respond…

“Are you talking about you and the bloody tree?” he finally squawked out incredulously.

“Sit down, you’re blocking the sunlight,” you snapped impatiently. For whatever reason, Jungkook did as he was told, seating himself next to you.

This was his first genuine interaction he’s had with someone since his hyungs all graduated, and though out of character, he realized he wanted it to last a bit longer.

Just a little bit.

“So you’re saying torturing the Whomping Willow isn’t insane – it’s just your duty?” he asked incredulously.

“If I feel wronged, I see it justified to want to correct who wronged me.”

“With torture?”

“Did I actually harm it though? It nearly snapped my neck, I’d still be in the right if I did even more.”

“But…you won’t.”

You give him a wry smile, vaguely annoyed that you can’t enjoy your book but also enjoying the fact that you were actually conversing with someone.

Even if he was mildly insulting.

“I’m going to come here regularly to put it in its place,” you sniff. After all, it was only right to vent your frustrations a little more, right? Your emotions had been too pent up recently, this event being the catalyst to a complete meltdown.

You were embarrassed for someone to have witnessed said meltdown, but it’s far too late for regrets.

Jeon Jungkook smelled like mint, wood, and oranges, an odd combination, but not one you could say you disliked. He talked in a pout, like the entire world just existed in order to make him unhappy. So when the corners of his mouth lifted as he snickered at your response, you smiled as well.

You fully realized how insane you look, but you’re used to others judging you anyway.

“You’re something else,” he finally responds, shaking his head.

“No, I’m (Y/N),” you roll your eyes. After a beat of silence, you both snigger at the dumb statement.

And for a while, you two continued to sit there in silence, Jungkook picking at the grass as you read. It was nice, too nice. Your heartbeat gradually started to quicken as you became more self-conscious and hyperaware; you were entirely unused to spending time with someone your age in any way, shape, or form. Jungkook seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowing again as he nicked until the ground around him was bald. You took the time to study his features, everything about him being summed up in one word: pretty. He was just pretty, prettier than you, you thought. The reasons this pretty boy was gracing you with his present were still lost on you, but you didn’t mind it for the meantime.

“If you were curious,” you started. Why? You didn’t know. For Merlin’s sake, you were nervous.

“If you did read the greatest revenge story of all time, you’d understand why revenge is a duty to yourself and to the world.”

There you go again, with your matter-of-fact way of communicating, Jungkook thought.

You don’t speak as someone expressing an opinion, but as someone communicating a fact about the world.  Jungkook found that the odd things that came out of your mouth were made to seem as nothing but logical and just - the truth not just as you believed it to be, but as it was. It made him want to understand you, the girl who fought the Whomping Willow, in more detail.

Even now, he didn’t know why he kept talking to you. Well, he did – he found you interesting. That was the problem.

The only people Jungkook spoke to past necessity were his six hyungs – who had now all graduated and left him behind. The fact that he was now sitting with someone, a girl no less, and having an actual conversation was frustratingly perplexing. You, (Y/N),  smelled like vanilla and smoke, a combination so odd it made his head spin. So When you yet again say something completely outrageous as if it’s the greatest truth ever known, and as his senses began to pick up nothing but that cursed vanilla, Jungkook decided he’d had enough of being high off you.

“No thanks,” he replied, rising to his feet. He didn’t know what to expect in response, but it wasn’t you shoving the book into his hands before you bounded off, and definitely not before you flicked one last hex at that tree.

He clutched the book in his hands as he watched you walk away, finally coming to a conclusion about you.

You were definitely insane.

You quietly ate your dinner in the Great Hall, the chatter of your housemates a welcome distraction from thinking too hard about the events of your day. But foolishly enough, your mind still wandered to the pretty boy every now and then. You were vaguely aware that he sat somewhere amongst your housemates at this table, but you were too stubborn to look around for him. You knew you made quite the impression, but with the rumors you’d heard about Jeon Jungkook, you weren’t even sure if he’d acknowledge even knowing who you were at this point. And now that you’d given him your favorite book, you wanted nothing more than to head to the library to find new reading material. You decided to hasten your dinner, but unfortunately for you, the headmaster had other plans in mind.

Apparently, plans for your utter demise.

“Good evening students,”

Dumbledore had said beforehand that there was something he needed to discuss with the student body, a fact that you’d forgotten until now. You mentally groaned as you turned toward the old man, your escape plan flying out the window.

“It has come to my attention that the Whomping Willow has been vandalized,” he continued. You immediately stiffen, caught off guard. The other students begin whispering, mentions of the now colorful, volatile tree being thrown around. You wanted to literally die on the spot, more uncomfortable than you’d been when you realized that Jeon Jungkook had seen you.

It was one thing to be the center of attention, but another to be the center of attention with everyone still not knowing who you were. The notion made you uncomfortable, and just reminded you of the fact that you had no one here close enough to recognize you to begin with.

You suppose you should be happy that no one knew it was you, that way you can avoid trouble, but your heart felt heavy instead. You felt like a ghost in what was supposed to be your home for seven years…not that the ghosts here were the type you wanted to be particularly acquainted with.

You still remember the time Moaning Myrtle suggested you die alongside her so that at least you wouldn’t feel lonely…

You had stayed up the entire night that time researching how to successfully murder a ghost.

“Though I understand the willow can be a bit violent, vandalizing it in such a way shall not be tolerated. Please refrain from doing such acts in the future. If you must, avoid the area. If such an act is repeated, harsh discipline will follow. I trust you students will all behave accordingly.”

You thought your ears were playing tricks on you, but the murmurs of your classmates around you confirmed it. That uncontrollable giggling you thought you heard was coming from Jeon Jungkook himself, sat all the way at the far corner of the Slytherin table. A wide smile had broken the ever-present pout on his face, his head tilted down as he tried to control himself.

Suddenly looking up, he makes eye contact with your horrified countenance, and under the stares of shock and curiosity of his housemates, he throws his head back and guffaws.

You shoot up out of your seat and rush out of the Hall, past Jungkook who only laughed harder. How one singular person could make your heart beat this fast and make being seen, your greatest wish, feel this uncomfortable was beyond you. But you were sure of one thing:

That stupid tree attacked you, you were (technically) reprimanded for your revenge, and now you were being laughed at by the sole witness. The  embarrassment was enough to make you shiver.

Yeah, you were definitely going to sue this fucking school.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been more entertained by another person in his life. Or, at least not recently. Jungkook found himself genuinely questioning the stability of your emotions and thought process as he watched you storm out of the Great Hall. He was so focused on you and your antics that he didn’t notice all the eyes watching him after his outburst for quite a while.

“Jungkook, did something funny happen? I’d like to know too,” the girl sitting next to him finally questioned, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. Jungkook smoothly shifted his body away from her,  ignoring the invasive question. His thoughts were still on you, and how ridiculous your expression was. He’d been observing you from the very start of Dumbledore’s speech, and as the man went on, Jungkook found himself more and more amused at the annoyed, indignant look on your face. You, this girl he’d never even noticed before, had suddenly become so distracting that he even began to forget himself.

So distracting that, tipped over by the mortification on your face once the two of you finally made eye contact, he couldn’t help but explode into incredulous, tickled laughter. So distracting that he completely forgot that he, Jeon Jungkook, behaving in such a way was a distraction in of itself and would draw unwanted attention.

And as he finally calmed down and began to finish his dinner amongst the stares, the distraction that was you still plagued his mind even after he had long since left the Great Hall and wandered down the castle corridors. He should have gone farther and down several flights of the magical staircases to get to the Dungeons, but a glimpse of something to his left, outside of one of the windows, caught his attention.

Curiously approaching, a grin soon etched itself across his mouth as the far-off sight of the bespeckled Whomping Willow came into view. The tree was shaking it’s pink-and-orange leaves in anger, still triggered beyond belief at the day’s events.

Jungkook softly sniggered to himself, the sight giving him recall of yet another reminder of yours – the book you’d left with him. He felt around his robes for a bit before finally grasping it, pulling it out under the soft glow of the moonlight through the windowpane.

The pages of the book were well-worn, a nod to how often those pretty fingers of yours had leafed through its pages, he begrudgingly noticed.

The Count of Monte Cristo, as it was titled, promised a tale of grand revenge of the utmost satisfaction, according to the synopsis. Your neurotic insistence on living your life by said book’s principles came to mind, and for the first time in his life Jungkook became fascinated by something made by muggles.

Just as light reading material, he promised himself, tucking the book away safely before continuing his journey.

Jungkook didn’t expect to see you again, or at least not in any real capacity, but when Professor Flitwick was accidentally bitten by one of his numerous venomous plants, Professor Slughorn insisted that he was up to snuff and could take over the duties of both he and Flitwick, thus leading to the merger between the two classrooms.

Now this began a multitude of problems, the first being that Jungkook tended to avoid Slughorn like the plague. Slughorn’s love of geniuses led him to approach Jungkook when they crossed paths in Diagon Alley the summer before his third year. After refusing to take his class in a rather rude manner, Jungkook became the subject of Slughorn’s petty ire, the man insisting to anyone who’d listen how arrogant and questionable of a character he was.

Feud aside, Jungkook absolutely loathed the man, the stories of favoritism and incompetence leading him to view the glory-obsessed man as little more than an eyesore. He’d managed dodging him for three years now, but it seems his luck has finally run out.

The second cause of his problems was none other than the entirety of Gryffindor house itself, or at least the ones who’d managed to be coming along with Slughorn in this merger. Gryffindors were yet another thing he avoided like the plague, their brash, competitive nature often causing them to make bets on who could finally beat him or… who could finally get him.

At least the Hufflepuffs of Flitwick’s class were too shy or polite to actually try anything, but the frequent glances and loud whispers and red scarves reminded him that those days were over. At the very least, Slughorn’s class had also been a mixture with more Slytherins, and those of his house generally left him to his own devices for the most part.

Or so Jungkook thought, until he looks up and sees you bounding toward him in all your glory. No one had actually mustered up the courage to claim partnership with him for the year, the seat beside him in his new classroom currently empty. No, they were too busy daring each other into it or incessantly giggling. It had been all of thirty seconds since he sat his seat before he suddenly found you in his space.

His senses once again filled with vanilla and smoke, his eyes wide as he stared you down.

You were in this class? What were you doing? Why did you come to him?

“Is this seat taken?” You cut off his thought process smoothly, swiftly pulling the chair from out under the table. You looked more put together than when he last saw you, if that was saying anything. Jungkook couldn’t help but think back to the brutal, confident energy you exuded as the filthiest of words flew out of your mouth, the image of you and your wild eyes etched into his mind.

The confidence was still there, but the wildfire seemed to have been replaced with something cooler, more calculative as you sat beside him.

Jungkook had properly interacted with you all of one time and couldn’t get you out of his mind since, but now that you were sitting in front of him, approaching him first, anything he’d ever thought to have said had flown right out the window.

“You have something of mine. It’s been about a month, I assume you’re all done up, yeah?” You broke the silence again, reaching your hand out expectantly.

“What?” he said dumbly.

Your brows raise, and he swore to God he never felt so dumb under someone else’s gaze before. Holding your stare for a few moments, Jungkook swore he’d never been more red after he finally realized you were referring to your book.

“Oh, yeah. I have it, just not here.” he replied. He watched you as you let out a sigh, leaning back in your chair.

He honestly still couldn’t get past the fact that you actually sat next to him.

“Are you going to stay there?” he said uncomfortably, clocking the fact that half the class was watching their interaction with interest. You seemed to treat the jealous scowls of the others as air, making yourself comfortable as you began pulling out your Potions book.

“Where else am I going to go?” you drawled, gesturing to the rest of the classroom. It seems indeed as if everyone else had already found their seats amidst your conversation, but that didn’t stop those who were listening in.

“I’ll switch with you,” piped up a Gryffindor girl rather snidely. She looked vaguely familiar, but as the girl gave him a flirty smile Jungkook found it hard to even recall her name.

Her seatmate giggled as she jabbed her in the side, clearly at least partially the cause for her friend’s boldness.

He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to you. But your attention was still on the girl, who had already gotten up and began gathering her books.

“Sit back down, Crumpet, before I hex you into oblivion.” you sneered.

“I’d like to see you try,” the girl snapped, promptly dropping her books onto your side of the table. Her hand reached for her wand, but yours was faster.

Before anyone could react, you’d charmed her books right as Slughorn walked into the classroom, pomp and circumstance and an annoyingly familiar narcissistic energy arriving with him.

Jungkook fought back the urge to roll his eyes again, still admittedly embroiled in the conflict between you and the Gryffindor girl. He could once again see a sliver of that same girl he saw that day in the current you, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see how this played out.

He couldn’t help but to snicker when he saw what you did to Crumpet’s books, but it seemed the Professor, who’s eyes were now zeroed in on the three of you as Crumpet was still standing, was not as amused.

“Why now – what are you doing still standing? And who brought food into my classroom?” Slughorn looked outright offended, his hands making their way to his hips in a comical fashion.

Before anyone could say anything else, you smiled sweetly at the man before piping up,

“They’re Amanda’s, sir. Her signature, of course. She made them as a gift for you in appreciation for taking on the difficulties of managing two classes,” you exclaim, ignoring the other girl’s venomous stare.

“Ah! Well thank you, Miss Crumpet,” Slughorn lit up.

“The notion is very well appreciated. Now, if you may please take your seat.”

“O-Of course, Professor! It was my pleasure.” the Gryffindor stuttered out in panic.

The teacher proceeded as Amanda defeatedly made her way back to her original seat, and all the way until she sat down. He watched, and continued to watch, before his brows finally began to furrow.

“Miss Crumpet, where are your books?” Slughorn finally questioned. After a full minute of Amanda failing to find an answer, Slughorn’s hands once again found their way to his hips, and Jungkook’s nostrils couldn’t help but flare as he looked from Slughorn to you, who was watching your work with blatant fascination.

“Well now, this won’t do. I hope you don’t think I will favor you because of your gift,” Slughorn said unhappily. If there was one thing the man hated more than being rejected, it was being made to look bad. And if Slughorn arbitrarily decided as such, you could go from a hero right back to zero in his eyes.

Jungkook rolled his eyes for the upteenth time that day.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Ms. Crumpet. Gifts will not allow you to escape punishment, children,” Slughorn loudly proclaimed, waving his finger around.

Amanda’s face had turned beet red, before she gathered her things in a hurry as the rest of the class looked on in silence. And just when he thought it was over, you proved that the portrait of the Fat Lady still had some wind in those pipes, and Jungkook nearly died.

“Don’t forget your crumpets,” you trill. You looked the picture of smug as the rest of the class looked at you in abject horror, determined not to cross you in this lifetime. Your reaction was petty, vindictive, and all the more frustrating, confusing, and technically harmless that Jungkook remembered. He was sure his own face was a similar shade to Amanda’s from holding in his laughter for so long.

“I’m going to kill you!” Amanda finally screeched, lunging.  

“Stupe–”

“Expelliarmus,” Once again, your hand was quicker, disarming the girl before she could complete her threat.

At this point, Slughorn looked as red as the rest of you, his hands clenched into little fists as he started wheezing out a response to Amanda’s outburst.

“How dare you! Out this instant! The audacity – to attack another student in front of me! The disrespect! I don’t want you back for the rest of the school year!”

The girl turned ashen, not saying another word as she hurried out of the classroom. Her friend tried to speak up for her, to no avail –

“Miss Crumpet can get her credit through thorough personal study instead. She shall still take her exams like the rest of you. If she cannot respect me or my classroom then she is no longer welcome,” Slughorn harrumphed, and that was that.

That was that, and the grin that stretched across Jungkook’s face mirrored yours as he – along with the rest of your classroom – decided that you were, indeed, insane.

You really didn’t mean to cause any trouble at first.

You weren’t exactly nice, so the other Houses were wary of you. You did happen to draw the line at bullying for no reason, so in turn your own House hated you. You were simply true to your own emotions, and little-miss-crumpet triggered your annoyance frighteningly so that day.

If there was one thing you hated, it was to be interrupted.

Following Crumpet’s dramatic exit, Slughorn was quite irritable afterwards. You in all your grace decided to quit while you were ahead, electing to stay quiet the rest of the class.

You could hear the occasional whisper of your classmates about your actions, but you honestly couldn’t care less. You were a friend to exactly zero of them, so you cared even less what they thought of you. For you, that ship sailed a long time ago. Nevertheless, you were still slightly uncomfortable over the frequent looks Jungkook would toss your way throughout the lesson.

Did he want you to actually switch with her? Does he not want to be your partner?

You were so used to being treated with disdain by your peers that you found it difficult to spot any other intentions – for better or worse. This has saved you a lot of bullshit dealing with some of the two-faced snakes of your House, but definitely didn’t help you to spot genuine interactions and intentions throughout the years. You’ve finally decided to resign yourself to the fact that you’d be alone during your stay at Hogwarts, so you couldn’t understand why exactly Jungkook’s reaction bothered you so much.

Given how riled up you’d already made Slughorn via the Crumpet girl, talking during the class would have been unwise, but Jungkook’s constant staring made you unsettled and paranoid. You had no idea what the boy was thinking, and from what you’ve gathered about how unsocial he is, maybe you really did piss him off by acting too friendly.

You were hyper aware of his presence all the way until the class ended. Every stolen glance you noticed a bit more about him. His bangs had been swept above his forehead, a single strand hanging stubbornly as he concentrated on his book. Jungkook had the tendency to silently narrate as he read, a quirk that he shared with you. The sight made you smile, and you noticed his plump bottom lip often rolled between his teeth.

He would fiddle with the pages as he read, silver rings glistening on his pale fingers. You wondered how they contrasted with your own, then further wondered if you’d finally lost it.

The thought abruptly ended your reverie.

The two of you sat in silence until the class cleared out, not knowing what to say. You gathered your books without another word from either you or Jungkook, who just quietly watched you from his seat.

Biting your own lip, you spun around and began marching to the door before you felt a squish as your foot slipped out from under you and you fell unceremoniously on your back. Your feet had damn near gone over your head, the pain registering a few moments later. The groan that left your body was ungodly, your mind disoriented and eyes blatantly confused. Your robes had also flown over your head in your fall, and in a tizzy you hurried to right yourself and fix your clothes. Jungkook watched you in your disheveled state with wide eyes, a look of his you’ve come to grow very familiar with.

You take a moment to stare down at the offending cause of your tumble - a golden crumpet, fallen to the floor during the escapade from earlier.

You look at the crumpet, then at Jungkook, who looked at the crumpet, then at you.

You watch his face slowly begin to morph before you shoot up and zoom out the door, a peal of loud laughter following your back.

As your earlier triumphant high faded into intense embarrassment – a crumpet! Of all things! You had one vindictive, petty, definitely not harmless thought on your mind –

That a muggle lawyer should be able to wipe the floor with a magical one, you supposed. Taking a cue from your father’s distant cousins, the Malfoys, you were sure you’d get the doors of this blasted place shuttered in no time.

*

You’d be lying if you said you saw it coming. It was one summer. One summer you gave to Jung Jaehyun in exchange for your heart.

You in all your teenage romanticism and delirium reckoned he was the love of your life, in all his brown haired and honey eyed glory. You’d kept those memories under lock and key for two years now, determined to never think about the boy again, let alone see him.

So when Jaehyun emerged into the Great Hall with an arm slung around Jungkook’s shoulders, part of you wondered if you’d finally gone as crazy as people claimed.

This was the same boy who swept you off your feet with copious amounts of charm enough to sway even McGonagall, the same boy who suddenly left and never spoke to you again.

When you looked at him then, you saw stars in his eyes. When you look at him now, he seems like a complete fucking devil in disguise.

You watch with thinly veiled disgust as the two sat at the far end of the table, chatting away. A red scarf was wrapped securely around Jaehyun’s neck, causing you to scoff at the irony.

Coward, you thought. The two ignored the looks being sent their way, too engrossed with their own conversation to notice anything else. This was the first time you’d seen Jungkook happy (outside when he was laughing at you), and you felt somewhat unnerved. You wished to see him smile a bit more often, as nice as it was. His ring adorned fingers were flitting about in the air as he animated whatever tale he was spinning for Jaehyun, the most expressive you’d ever seen him. Jungkook really was pretty, his chiseled jawline nicely complementing the softer features of his face. You’d long gotten used to the sound of his laugh, but right now, for some reason, you felt a discomfort at the sight of it being caused by Jaehyun of all people.

You honestly didn’t know which of the two it was directed toward.

You wanted to watch Jungkook in this rare state for a bit longer, but it seems as if Jaehyun finally noticed the holes you were burning into the sides of their faces. His head abruptly turned to level his gaze with yours.

It seemed as if time had stopped for a moment, rendering you the only two in the room. You watched the recognition light up behind his eyes, his face softening into something else – a smile, but something more. You couldn’t quite figure it out before the boy started gesturing towards you, calling your name loudly.

“(Y/N)!”

You locked eyes with Jungkook first, who looked back at you with shock. Then you face Jaehyun, who was already making his way toward you.

Jaehyun, the supposed… love of your life?

And you wish you had the guts of a cornered cat, but instead, like a cowardly mouse, you turned on your heels and ran away.

                                                          *

Author’s Note: This is giving crack!fic vibes and I’m not sorry lol. I may make a tag list depending on how many people ask so go ahead! This will be a 3 part fic because I can’t do long series nor singular one shots apparently. Please comment, like, and reblog for encouragement!

Red line break means (Y/N) POV (mostly)

Black line break means Jungkook POV (mostly)

there is no way it can't be truth

Slytherin and Eton: A Primer on the British School System.

Slytherin occupies an odd place in the Harry Potter fandom. In canon, while it is the house with the second most development, that development is almost entirely negative, with the house and a large quantity of its students acting antagonistically throughout the piece. Heck, Hagrid, the lovable gruff figure who acts as Harry’s (and thus the audience’s) introduction to the magical aspects of the series explicitely calls them the most evil house before Harry has even seen the castle. This, along with Draco Malfoy’s terrible introduction (Malfoy will be covered in detail later in the piece) and the fact that Harry is already having to distance himself from Voldemort by the time of the sorting, is the major reason that Harry chooses anything but Slytherin. While the house, or rather its representatives, are sort of given more naunce later with Slughorn, Malfoy’s Draco and Narcissus, and Snape, the core example of how it is treated in the series comes just before the final battle, when the entire Slytherin student body either sides with Voldemort (Crabbe and Goyle, and to a lesser extent Parkinson who is willing to hand over Harry to save herself) or refuses to fight the good fight at all. 

The weirdness comes from the fact that Slytherin is probably the most popular house to self identify as within the active fandom. Aside from having traits many consider positive associated with it (cunning, loyalty and ambition), it is also treated as the outcast house to the rest of the school, particularly the Gryfindors. The treatement of Slytherin therefore sticks in a lot of fan’s nerves, and understandably so. The notion of Houses, defining people at age 11, is already a weird way to handle things, after all, and defining an entire group of them as evil from the start? Yeah that’s not great, particularly if you identify with aspects of them. I myself would probably be a Slytherin or a Ravenclaw, so I can understand this distaste. But…here’s the thing. The reasons for treating Slytherin this way are not entirely diagectic in nature. The house is the centre of a massive pile up involving world building, characterisation and most importantly some fairly blunt and pointed social commentary about the British School system and society at large. 

It’s been a running gag that what racism is to the American political discussion, classism is to the British. This is not entirely true (for one thing we are certainly not over racism or xenophobia here), but there is a nugget in there. British society is heavily class stratified society. We have some of the worst mobility in the developed world, and much of our political system is dominated by a very small part of society.

Perhaps the most obvious example of this is that there is a particular branch of the schooling system that dominates government, known as the Public Schools. That name can be confusing at first. The original group of Public schools vastly predate the mandatory schooling system; the oldest of them predate Columbus’ birth by over a decade. Not his voyage to the Americas, but his birth. The original idea was that they would take promising boys who normally would not get an education, due to them not coming from families who could afford them to be educated, hence the name Public Schools. Nowadays these are all elite private schools, not linked to the department of education. While approximately 7% of the population attend these schools, 33% of the members of Parliament (MPs), 50% of the Peers in the second chamber of government and 70% of the top judges are educated here. Heck, of the 54 Prime Ministers who have led the country, 32 were educated at one of three Public schools; seven at Harrow School, six at Westminster School and nineteen at Eton College. Compare that to the 9 prime ministers educated, as I was, in state schools. These institutions form part of the basis for a web of connections that defines a lot of the elite parts of British society, not just in politics but in business, in media and in higher education as well; the “old boy’s club” that provides a barrier to entry for a vast swathe of society. While supporters of these systems will note that efforts have been made to overcome this, with around 310 of Eton’s pupils receiving financial assistance, but that means that the remaining 1,000 students come from families that can afford the £12,000 per term fees, and these students are only male. The idea that this system is anything close to meritocratic is not just laughable, it is the equivalent of starting a discussion on orbital dynamics with the word’s “assuming a heliocentric universe”. Another point to make? The entire House structure comes from these schools. Eton has 25 Houses, and in this case they are literally houses; they are where the boy’s sleep at night, since it is a boarding school. While not unique to Public Schools, they are heavily associated with them in British culture. I’m adding this in because Rowling didn’t just make up the concept of splitting the children into groups. As a teenager she attended Wyedean School, which notably historically had a four House system (oh look it’s almost as if there might be a connection), before abandoning it as the school grew (I can’t find anything about when this happened, but it could well have been after Rowling studied there). Hogwarts itself, while it is an individual school, is also a condensation, celebration and condemnation of the British School system as a whole, being the only wizarding school in the UK. Umbridge isn’t just a single throughly unpleasant inspector, she is a stand-in for OFSTED, the body responsible for school inspections. It’s notable that in Harry’s year in Gryfindor,  you have, among others, the dirt poor Ron, the muggle born Dean and Hermione, the Irish half-blood Seamus Finnigen (and given that this was written in the 90′s holy shit is UK and Irish relations another can of worms I am not going to open here because this already too long but will be glanced a bit at in a later bit of this essay). It’s honestly hard for me to not read Gryffindor and Hufflepuff as stand-ins for the UK state schools, Ravenclaw for the private schools, and Slytherin as the public schools. Remember what I said about how Slytherin is treated as the outcast part of the school? Well, it is honestly treated much like the rest of the UK school system treats the private school. How is that? Well, when it snowed in my school days and we all went to the main park, the one thing that would immediately unite all the state and a lot of the private schools was the arrival of the public school kids (particularly since they tended to try and pick snowball fights with everyone while throwing classist insults around). Slytherin is in many ways the house of privilege, and not necessarily earned privilege. Lucius Malfoy, until his ousting when he plays his hand too hard in the second book, is the leader of the Board of Governors and escaped Azkaban despite his crimes, while it is explicitely stated in the first book that Slytherin has won the House cup for repeatedly in the previous years, mainly due to Snape bestowing preferential  treatment on his own House (and yes I do think it was fine for Dumbledore to pull that last minute switch, since Harry Ron and Hermione had just legimately just prevented Voldemort from returning. That kind of deserves some credit. The Neville bit might be pushing it but again, the timing was just pretty tight). But there’s more to what Slytherin represents, and this comes back to what I was saying about how charactisation is involved in this pile up, particularly the characterisation of Slytherin himself. Specifically the characterisation of him as a rascist shitfucker. I know that’s blunt but so it is the characterisation. He left a giant monster behind for the sole purpose of having it one day unleashed on a load of kids for the crime of not being born to magical parents, and Slytherin the house has historically been defined as much by its stated qualities of cunning and ambition as it has been by this continuing tradition of racist ideology. The Sorting Hat song is not the full picture as to what defines the Houses; they have grown beyond that, both in universe and in fandom. This characterisation comes back into social commentary because, yes, the UK has had and still has a long history of racism and xenophobia, from our imperial history to the Troubles in Ireland to how Eastern European and muslim immigrants are treated now. So why does Slytherin House still bare a stain from Slytherin the man? Well, in a word, it’s tradition. Remember what I said about the age of these institutions? Yeah, that’s not a joke. The Public School system, the Oxbridge higher education that it feeds into, are heavily influenced by traditions that have grown up over the ages. Heck, it used to be that in Eton, the youngest boys in the House were basically servants to the older students and staff, a practise known as “fagging” (I am not even joking). Wizarding society in general is also heavily steeped in the past; the steam train of the Hogwarts express, for instance, or the very concept of the Houses themselves. Heck, while it is never confronted directly, quite a few characters talk about how the Sorting isn’t the best idea, most notably the Sorting Hat itself. Slytherin the house has passed down the ideals of Slytherin the man in its culture, just as the UK has passed down racism, classism and xenophobia in ours. If Voldemort is the embodiment of these issues at their most violent, then Parkinson is them at their most passive; she is willing to go with Voldemort’s demands to save herself, and is willing to accept the racism and classism throughout the books. This is what I meant by a collusion between characterisation, world building and social commentary. The books were written while Rowling was viturally penniless, and a lot of the social commentary in them reflects this, including the way Slytherin is portrayed. Is it fair to the characters of Slytherin? Should she have been more naunced about it? Well, yes. There’s a reason I called it a pile up, but if you are treating the resulting mess as simply being in universe, you are going to miss a lot of important aspects about why she created it the way that she did.

Narcissa Malfoy’s daughter Moodboard —“my mother will hear about this!”

Birthday Buzz

Mattheo Riddle x Reader 

A/N: hi! loving your feedback and constructive criticism, so if you feel like sharing your opinion, feel free to do such! love ya 

Summary: How birthday day can go in such a different way than initially planned. 

Warnings: oh yes! language, some mild graphics (make-up lol), bitchy Pansy, and… have I mentioned language??

Word Count (bruh): 5.1k 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

No one would have convinced Y/N in the morning that what had just transpired was coming around, in such a slapdash rapidity as it had. Even so, with that clear-cut fact smacking her right across the face was it still so damn hard to believe that… that it was true.  

She must be hallucinating. Or dreaming. Even the phenomenon of swines with the wings in the air would have been more feasible than… what was that exactly?  

It all started with Y/N descending to the Great Hall, the walls woven with the luminant sunlight of the spring. Entering the room, humid and somewhat irksome (it was Monday, everything is irksome on Mondays, alright?), she instantly noticed a few details: McGonagall’s new insipid hairstyle, the plate with her go-to breakfast already stowed in her regular sitting spot, Pansy’s huge grin tacked on her lips, and Blaise missing. The latest part surprised Y/N the most because she knew that Blaise would never skip a breakfast, and these were his usual hours of arriving; maybe he had already eaten?  

Also, what’s the Pansy’s deal with smiling like a madman who overdosed on the crack?  

What in the world…  

“Haiya you!” Pansy scrambled to her feet, without giving Y/N a chance to query. “Guess what! Or no, you are so bullshit at guessing anyways… Slytherin is throwing a party today!”  

The last part of her sentence came out in a feverish murmur, so that the Teachers’ Table wouldn’t overhear their conversation, and only loud enough for Y/N to hear. Still, her excitement was speaking volumes and Y/N wondered quickly whether Pansy really hadn’t dosed on a shot or two before the breakfast. Not that she wasn’t like that on a daily basis.  

“What? It’s literally the beginning of the week.”

“But not every week does someone have a birthday!” As Pansy’s elation gently receded, was then Y/N able to finally to abscond herself at the table and munch on the already-prepared food. Upon seeing Y/N frowning, Pansy let out a shrill shriek which made a few people nearby glance crabwise at the two. “You didn’t forget, did you?”  

“About what?”  

Another shriek followed. “Mattheo’s birthday!”  

An awkward grimace popped on Y/N’s face, brows knitting together. “Well… if you haven’t noticed, we are not precisely on the friendly terms.”  

Pansy made a fish-like O with her mouth, obviously about to say something appeasing, but the grunt next to Y/N interrupted. Promptly, she looked for the owner of the voice and was astonished to learn that the rest of their group was siding just next to her and Pansy, ostensibly listening to their exchange from the starters.  

“Well, well… just look who has finally decided to acknowledge the rest of her friends. Good morning to you too, Y/N.”  

She smirked. “No need to be so bitter, Theo. A few more years of practice and you may replace Snape in his disgruntlement.” A snort issued at the table and Y/N, complacent, grinned cheekily at Theo who only huffed. “Oh, don’t be like that, Theo, you know I love you.” Laying her head against his shoulder, she patted him at the top of his head. “There, there…”  

“So… party you say,” spoke up Draco for the first time. He was chewing on his morning toast, evidently amused by the entire scene, but his eyes had a ghost of a question in them. Y/N already knew that this topic wasn’t going to slip by as easily. “Have you really forgotten about Mattheo?”  

A smear of naked embarrassment splattered on Y/N’s cheeks. A part of her wanted to tell everyone to back off and just let her be, but at the same time, she knew she had blundered. It didn’t matter if they were close with Mattheo or not; they belonged to the same coterie, so it entangled some commitment. Even if that indicated associating with the bombastic entitlement of Mattheo for longer than the ideal time.  

“Mhm… Yeah. You know. How was I supposed to know, really. We barely talk.” While saying so, Y/N made sure to perform the best glower she could pull off. She felt extremely petulant while doing so, but she wanted to fend for herself and not let anyone manoeuvre her into culpability.  

“I told you about that, like two days ago!” Pansy had a distinct air of displeasure, as though personally offended by the occurrence. “I specifically highlighted ‘please, try to remember, it’s important’ and you said ‘fine’!”

“Well, I did not remember. And so, what? Don’t make such a big fuss about that. It’s not like he cares anyways,” Y/N said that with a nose in her breakfast plate, trying to avert the gaze from the rest, especially from Pansy who seemed to be at the brink of incredulity.  

She should have remembered though. She should have.  

Shit, shit, shit…  

Theo grunted again. “It’s not the end of the world, Pansy, we only have to find a way to… make Y/N appear like she’s not an ignorant brat who forgot about her friend’s birthday.” A beat. Theo peeked at Y/N goadingly, but she was already shooting daggers at him; that made him smirk. “She can pin her name on the present we got with Blaise.”  

“Thank you, that’s really sweet,” said Y/N, making a U-turn and smiling gratefully at her friend. Gosh, she didn’t know what she would have done without this insolent arse. In order to take the limelight off herself, Y/N continued: “Why did you decide to organize the party so last-minute, anyways?”

“We didn’t know till now if we would be able to smuggle the booze,” said Draco through the half-full mouth.  

“And how ar–”  

“Don’t ask,” interjected Pansy with the look that explicitly indicated that Y/N wouldn’t like to know that piece of information. “Blaise is fixing everything.”  

In response, Y/N merely nodded.  

“So here is a deal,” Pansy continued after a beat. She lowered her timbre as if revealing a top-secret gossip to a bunch of nine-year-olds. “When Mattheo comes down, we are going to pretend like we don’t remember about his birthday. He is going to be sulking all day long and stuff-”

“Highly doubt th-”  

“However.” If the looks could kill, Theo would be surely laying prostrate, French-kissing the floor. “At around…” She looked at her wristwatch. “8-ish, Y/N will ask Mattheo if he could help her out, at the same time hauling him to the Common Room. And that’s when all of us will jump out and hold a fucking “Surprise” banner right in front of his pretty face. Clear much?”  

Y/N exhaled, with one nagging thought in her head. Why was she always the one to be arranged in such a setting with Mattheo? Her friends were acutely aware of the enmity between the two, yet they always impelled them to work together, both if it came to the school projects or even the group hangouts when everyone – beside her and Mattheo, obviously – would suddenly mingle out of the gathering last-minute.  

As if sensing the ongoing dissension in Y/N’s head, Pansy critically eyed Y/N and furrowed, precisely addressing her concerns: “Something to add, Y/N?”  

“No, I love the plan,” she replied quickly, after a moment of contemplation. “It’s that I’m not sure about the latest bit. I—I don’t know if he will accede, you know, with helping me out. We aren’t that friendly, so it may seem a tad suspicious that all of the sudden I’m asking him for a favour.”  

No one said anything for a couple of seconds, but everyone seemed to be having the same hardwired thought as they threw each other the same bemused look, chewing the silence away. The tension of the message, so palpable it was, that it made Y/N snap out of the anticipation; she turned to Pansy, catching the waft of her strong double expresso, and then ogled each of her friends with an expectant eye.  

“What?” Her tone seemed brusque, even to herself. “Why are you all acting so… meek? Is there something I don’t know about?” And then, the thought dawned at her: “Has Mattheo said something about me?”  

Another round of chary looks followed, but before anyone was able to lodge a definite answer to the barrage of Y/N’s questions, the voice from behind echoed:  

“Morning, everyone.”  

Y/N whirled so abruptly, it almost cost her a whiplash, but when she saw the way Mattheo suited himself today, it most definitely caused her that whiplash. He was clad in a button-up shirt, the last couple of buttons undone and exposing the cleavage; his hair of the usual dark-brown curl was tumbling in its usual haphazard style and accentuating his prominent cheekbones; most definitely, the vague scar across his face did not make Y/N anyhow randy. Anyhow!

What struck Y/N the most, however, was the halo above his head – sunlight seeping through the Great Hall’s windows and highlighting Mattheo’s figure. The image was so angelic, so lofty, it suddenly caused the dryness in her throat. She thought she must be melting under those caramel-brown eyes like a humongous puddle of sweat and adoration.  

No, she most definitely did not develop a crush on her frenemy, that couldn’t be right.    

Y/N suddenly realized that she might be gawking, so she promptly returned to her previous position, all her aptitude to eat and breathe gone. Sidewise, she also noticed Pansy grinning knowingly at her, and when Y/N gave her an evil eye, she merely shrugged in a manner of “you know what I mean.”  

Mattheo, instead of occupying his usual spot at the table, squeezed in between Y/N and some Slytherin second-year. Y/N had a vague impression that he was awaiting his friends to suddenly burst singing “Happy Birthday” or bestow him with wishes, because his lips were pressed in a thin line, and he was silently scooping the porridge from the ornamental bowl.  

“So, what’s new, Mattheo?” asked Theo which felt so widely inappropriate that Y/N suddenly had an urge to boot him.  

From this proximity, Y/N could perceive the brief flash of hurt across Mattheo’s features, but that was only for milliseconds. He plastered a sham smile on his face, and only tipped off with a short: “Not much.”  

“We were actually talking,” started Pansy, carefully. “That Y/N needed some tutoring in Potions.” This time, Y/N seriously contemplated booting someone. Namely, Pansy. “Maybe you could help her, Mattheo? You are good at Potions, right?”  

Dismissing Pansy’s last question, Mattheo finally eyed Y/N who was maxing out the redness of her face. She gave him a bashful smile. “Really? I thought you were good at Potions.”  

The blankness overcame her. Y/N, clearly at whom the question was directed, tried to contrive a blatant lie but failing more and more as the seconds elapsed. Panic-stricken, she looked at Pansy who was witnessing the entire fall with a pained expression.  

Shit.  

“I– I have a problem with this n-new topic. Something connected with Pepperup Potion,” she finally spluttered out, after what felt like forever. Once more, she glanced at Pansy who gave her the thumbs-up (that crone!), but she made the point of averting Mattheo’s gaze. “But sure, if you don’t want t–”  

“No problem,” he broke off Y/N’s exhausted ramble. “Around 6-ish then?”  

“Actually,” said Pansy. “Me and Y/N are headed to the Hogsmeade at that time. Girly things, you know. Maybe you can meet up, afterward, like 7-ish?”

“Mhm, yeah, why not. As long as it’s okay with Y/N.” He shortly looked at her but she, mortified, merely responded with a nod of agreement.

“It’s settled then!” Pansy exclaimed a coda with a sort of exuberance which, apparently, nobody else shared. And Y/N couldn’t help but think how interesting her one-to-one with Mattheo is going to be.  

XOXOXOXXOXOXOXXOXO

Precisely two minutes before the appointed time, Y/N was at the foot of the library, taking in deep breaths.  

She didn’t know why she felt so overwrought. She thought she must be overreacting. It’s not like her and Mattheo hadn’t been alone with each other before.  

Rather, the opposite – they had been. Plenty of times.  

The worst part was, or the funniest – Y/N wasn’t sure in which terms she should regard that case – she constantly kept recollecting the same printed image of Mattheo from the morning. In his unbuttoned shirt, with that tousled hair which really gave him a look of a lead vocalist from the “Weird Sisters.” And the weirdest bit was that Y/N found that immensely attractive.  

Maybe there was something wrong with her? Maybe it was her hormones butting in, her pre-period thirst for what’s been chucked by the universe? And again, why would the universe be afflicting her?  

Deciding that she would probably not find any answers to those unabating thoughts, Y/N thought that there was no longer point of dangling in front of the entrance like some kind of mule. She pushed the door, treaded through a couple of book sections before finally localizing Mattheo with his usual cavalier aura. He was scribbling something rather intently on the piece of parchment in front of him, so much was he absorbed that he didn’t even flinch when Y/N strode over to the table.  

She cleared her throat, announcing her presence. “Hey.”  

He ultimately quirked up, and gosh was he so unbelievingly charming. Even after a day of meandering in the same clothes, he still made an impression of impeccable, and when his eyes met Y/N’s irresolute gaze, he smiled at her softly. Something flittered in Y/N’s stomach, and she only hoped that it was that sketchily-looking croissant that she had eaten.  

“Hey,” he spoke in a stoic manner, simultaneously gesturing at the chair next to him. “Take a seat.”

And so she did; from that distance she could smell the scent of his cologne – cedarwood mixed with an enticing trace of bourbon. Damn him.  

“Huh, so shall we start?” he asked as Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his face. “Or will you just keep staring?”  

At once, Y/N tore her gaze away from his face, a blush blotching her cheeks; she felt positively mortified, warmth venturing from the chest to the nape of her neck. Well, it will take her some time to recover from that… “Yeah,” she laughed out, breathlessly. “Sorry.”  

He merely shook his head, then plucked the course book from his satchel, and dragged it between the two of them. Without further ado, he commenced explaining the topic to her (“Pepperup Potion is quite a facile topic” Yeah, no shit, Flamel) in his calming voice, tracing his finger over the ingredients and elucidating their cruciality in finalization of the potion.  

And while he was explaining all of that, composed and unbothered as if it were his daily lark, Y/N was on the other side of the spectrum – never had her body undergone something like that: her brain muddled, thoughts garbled, heart doing cartwheels whenever she looked up at Mattheo. She even noticed those little things about him, like the way his fingers smoothly flipped the pages, the way he pursed his lips whenever he was deeply immersed in his thoughts, or even that he had this sweet, little habit of raking his fingers through his hair.  

Y/N, at the same time, absolutely detested herself for having those thoughts – superficial, distractive, unnecessary, delusory, egregious, and…

She was staring again and, from the peripheries of his vision, Mattheo had noted that because he was eyeing her again in the matter of seconds, clearly saying something but Y/N couldn’t string those words together. Only after a couple of seconds did she parse what he had asked.  

“Yes, I’m fine…” she answered, swallowing the pit in her throat. Then, she inspected her watch – 7.47 – and decided that it was a high time for them to bestir. “I’m just feeling… tired. Maybe we should get going, you know.”  

Mattheo eyed her for a few more jiffs before finally nodding. Y/N had a dim impression that something in terms of acrimony flashed across his face for a split moment, but that was quickly gone, and he was already shoving his belongings into the satchel.  

Once they were out in the corridor, Y/N started: “Thank you for your help, you know. That means a lot.” She thought it a good idea to pass over her gratitude by touching his shoulder but boy was she wrong. The reaction was immediate: Mattheo stiffened under her touch and, like a scalded cat, took a stride backward; his breath hitched and even in a dull lighting as it was, she could discern how his pupils dilated; he raked his hand over his hair like he had done before.  

Y/N froze, halting just as he had. Not sure what else to do, because she hadn’t done anything wrong really, she simply waited how this debacle was going to progress; she could have anticipated many things – him throwing cusses at her, him laughing the entire situation off, even him casting curses at her. What she hadn’t expected, however, was Mattheo suddenly rushing in a different direction than the Common Room and leaving her lingering in the spot, not able to process rapidity of the shebang.  

Maybe she should have felt contrite at the moment, maybe she should have given up, and simply informed her friends that the plan clearly hadn’t worked out, and that Mattheo was a prick, leaving her hanging like some kind of scum in the middle of the corridor. But she would be lying to herself then and poorly attempting to talk herself into believing that she didn’t care.  

Yet she did, that’s why Y/N suddenly felt like the blood was curdling within her. Without administering that the words were spewing out of her mouth, she was already shouting after him:

“What’s your problem?” Mattheo stopped in his track, not turning around nor snorting at her, but simply standing still. He was waiting for her to continue. “Every time we are supposed to hang out with each other, every time I try to initiate the conversation with you, every time I smile and you ignore me, every time… I try so hard to be nice to you, try to act… civil, at least in front of our friends. But you always bring me down.” She didn’t even fathom how she had come up to him, but here she was – standing in front of Mattheo Riddle and cannoning the grudges that she had been keeping for years at him. It felt so… emancipating. “Even that one time when I cooked the brownies for Christmas, especially for you, and later you gave them away to Blaise. You know how humiliated I felt? That I spent time doing something for you, and you… so carelessly dismissed that? And, and… by the way, how much of the psychopath do you have to be as not to like brownies, on Merlin’s Beard!”  

Her voice sounded so reedy in her ears, but she knew that she was just poorly trying to outshout the quiver in her voice or the prickling tears in her eyes. When a tear tumbled down her cheek, not wanting to unveil any accompanying emotions, she angrily wiped it away with a sleeve. Her gaze travelled downwards because she felt more waterworks coming about.  

“I realize that you might hate me bu-”

“I don’t,” interjected Mattheo. For the first time, he shifted in his spot and when Y/N scrutinized his countenance, his lines had a note of desperation in them, earnestness that clearly stressed the truthfulness of his words. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t have to lie, Mattheo, I-”

“I don’t hate you,” he retaliated, sounding stern. And angry, in a way? Y/N must have misheard.    

“Listen, Mattheo, I appreciate you trying to patch things up, but there’s no poin-”

But her sentence spiralled into the distant corners of the corridor, and Y/N piped down as Mattheo took a step closer, curtailing the distance between the two. Y/N cast her face downwards under Mattheo’s intense stare, but his hand travelled to her chin, forcing her to look at him once more. His thumb swiped over her cheek where the tear stain was, and it seemed like he was contemplating her dejection with a sour expression. For a moment, Y/N could swear that the air in her lungs disappeared altogether, and she just kept waiting for his next move, her eyes turned into the deer-in-the-headlights expression.  

With the intent look, he bent over her, Y/N’s nostrils catching the scent of his cologne yet again, and he was leaning over to her ear. One of his hands moved over to her arm, clutching it lightly as if she was the most exquisite dainty porcelain set, and his mouth was just centimetres away from her earlobe. Y/N’s body went entirely rigid.  

“I. Don’t. Hate. You,” he spelled out every syllable of his sentence, gravely, gutturally, slowly.  

Something clicked in Y/N. No longer was she standing there spellbound, but maybe because of his intoxicating scent, maybe because of the intensity with which he had uttered his words, she was tugging him by his collar with both of her hands. She normally, a brief thought crossed her mind, wouldn’t have enough nerve to do something like that, but she kissed him – her desperate, parched mouth travelled onto his.  

For a moment, she asked herself if maybe she might be out of her mind for doing that or if Mattheo felt the same way she had this morning, or if he had ever considered her as more then… well, whatever they were. She soon found out the answer, however, because his lips momentarily detached themselves from her skin, and he was scanning her face with dilated pupils.  

Instantly, Y/N pulled away and put her hands on the level with her head in the defensive mode like a child who had been caught red-handed while sneaking out the chocolate bars. The air was sucked out of her.  

“I’m so, so sor-”  

“It’s not the way I envisaged that…” His voice sounded positively berserk, feral even. Her hands pending mid-air, Mattheo drew them back to their previous place. In the middle of that maelstrom, Mattheo capitalized Y/N’s confusion by placing his hands on her lower back, flipped her so that now her body was positioned against the wall, moulded against him.  

“And how have you envisaged that, exactly?” she muttered, her voice barely audible. She blinked a couple of times, disorientated, observing as a smirk curved on Mattheo’s lips.  

“Let me show you how…”  

His lips smashed against hers, and Y/N was happy to note that her feelings were requited after all. At first it started off gentle, but that quickly morphed into this voracious battle for dominance. They were devouring into each other’s taste (Mattheo’s peppermint toothpaste), and he slid his tongue over her bottom lip, silently soliciting her for deepening the kiss.

She permitted, of course she did, parting her lips ever so widely, deliberating that if she ever were to die, that’s probably the only way she would have accepted the Grim Reaper in her warm, hospitable embrace. Much to her surprise, Mattheo took her by both of her wrists, pinned them above her head while his other hand was caressing the skin underneath her shirt.  

His kisses were so fierce and zealous, Y/N couldn’t help it but feel the sudden yearning to be as close to him as possible; she draped one of her legs around his lower waist, aligning his body with hers as if they were the unity. It felt like they belonged together the whole life, just like yin and yang, and it was so ludicrous that they hadn’t realized that before.  

His tongue flicked over her lips a couple more times, making the want pool around her abdomen, before he finally dipped lower and lower, reaching her neck and planting the sloppy kisses on it. It was as if though he couldn’t get enough of her taste, so ardent in his actions he was, and when he finally discovered the weak spot on her neck, he started sucking on it ever so roughly. Not quite able to quell it, she let out a small moan which apparently must have worked marvels on Mattheo because Y/N could suddenly sense the bulge of erection ramming against her thigh.  

She was torn. From one side, she wanted to do this so badly, the knot in her lower parts specifically betrayed that, but she knew that it would be so wrong and thorny if they elevated that to another level.  

Yet, it was so hard to focus with Mattheo’s lips leeched to her neck, signaturing her skin in the most conspicuous way.  

“Don’t… you think… that we sho…uld talk this over… first?” Y/N rasped out with an evident difficulty.  

“What’s there to talk about?” he muttered in between the kisses, his hand still circling on Y/N’s belly and dangerously nearing to her bra. “I’ve wanted this since forever. And clearly, so did you.”  

Y/N released an amused, hoarse chuckle but that silenced her only for a few seconds before she finally deciphered his words. Particularly, the one resonated in her mind: forever. A paroxysm of joy sprung up in her.  

“So, you felt like that for a long time?”  

Mattheo, apparently cognizing that Y/N wasn’t going to relinquish the topic easily, halted. He withdrew both of his hands, instead placing them on each side of the wall where Y/N was residing. His chest was still moving rapidly, hair rumpled, and pupils almost entirely replacing the irises of his eyes. As Y/N examined him briefly, she thought she must be out of her mind for ceasing their make-out in the first place.  

Too late for reversion, anyways.  

After a few inhales, he finally started: “Well, haven’t you noticed? This entire time, that I-” With a small gloss of hesitation, he looked her in the eyes, assiduously. “I have been crazy about you. For so long. I don’t even remember how it feels to be sane, because whenever I’m around you I just… want to grab you and kiss you senseless.”  

Y/N balked. Things got another notch inexplicable, and Y/N wasn’t sure anymore if she was dreaming and perhaps was stuck in a different universe where cats were the heads of the Ministry, Pansy was Gryffindor, and Mattheo was besotted with her. That would be more possible, from all Y/N could think of.  

“Really?” A blush suffused her cheeks. “I thought you hated me! All those signs – always avoiding me, never talking to me… This didn’t necessarily appear to me as… what you just said.”  

“Listen.” His palm covered hers and he squeezed it lightly a couple of times. “All of that was just a game. I didn’t want to weird you out nor did I know if you reciprocated my feelings. That’s why I tried to… avoid you, if you will.” He stopped for a moment, just staring Y/N, enchanted, as if there was nothing else in the world, both of them captured in slow-motion where nothing else around them mattered. The silence between them was only raptured by their quick breathing and the hammering in their chests. “In truth, the way you… move and talk, it’s all driving me mad. Fuck! I want to be with you, be able to kiss you whenever I desire, want to touch you and be there for you whenever you feel down… Y/N, I want to do so many things with you, and you don’t even know that. But how could you, right?”  

As if pained, he closed his eyes with a microscopic grimace and he licked his lips, as if reminiscing the tastes of her on his skin. With guilt flaring up, Y/N cupped his cheek in her palm and stroked over it again and again. He seemed to be enjoying that as he leaned into her touch, his frayed nerves somewhat tranquilized.  

“You know, I like you too,” Y/N said, and before Mattheo was able to protest as he opened his mouth with the clear intention of doing so, Y/N proceeded: “I really do! It was just that… I was trying to tell myself otherwise because I wasn’t sure of how you would react. And when you waltzed into the Great Hall today, looking like that, I realized that… I’ve been lying to myself. And- and are you mad?”  

He furrowed. “Mad? What for?”  

“For screaming at you earlier.” Y/N pursed her lips.  

Gently smiling, he smooched her lips shortly, and Y/N fleetingly missed the heat of his body on hers. “No, I was a dick.” Another smooch. “Although, I would specifically like to highlight that I didn’t give these cookies away to Blaise. He stole them.”  

With poorly faked disapprobation, she shook her head but soon enough, a grin adorned her features. “That shithead.”  

Mattheo chuckled and he was about to kiss Y/N again when…  

“There you two are, I was looking all over for you two and–” Pansy prowled from around the corner, clearly with annoyance painted on her face but when she discerned the view right in front of her, with Y/N positioned against Mattheo, she smirked. “Well, well… Y/N, I told you to sneak him into the Common Room, not to woo him.” Y/N palm-faced herself but Pansy, not taking on the social hints, continued: “But have it your way, I guess…”

“Pansy, I think we would like to be left alone for now and if you could-”  

“No,” Pansy interposed, folding her arms together. “It’s your birthday party, Mattheo! It was supposed to be a surprise, but someone…” She leered at Y/N with a pointed look. “…clearly can’t control themselves and restrain her animalistic instincts, irrespective of the plan that her other friends set up.”

“In her defence–”  

“And I’m not going to be a shitty friend who forgets about her best friend’s birthday! So, collect yourself a little and schedule bumping uglies on a different time.” With that, the pitter-patter of her stilettos faded away, while both Mattheo and Y/N stood stunned in their spot.  

“That’s not how I planned it,” Y/N explained quickly. “Especially the “bumping uglies” part.”  

Mattheo chuckled with hilarity sparkling in his eyes. “I know.”

“And I’m sorry about your birthday, we were supposed to act like we have forgo-”  

“Doesn’t matter.” Mattheo smiled finally at her, covering her mouth with his. “It’s still the best birthday I have ever had.”  

Gold Rush

Theodore Nott x reader

summary: loving Theo in secret was not something you had ever planned

word count: 5k

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, no assigned House (reader isn’t a Slytherin tho :/ ), not proofread , alcohol consumption , sexual themes (but for like a sec)

ao3 & main masterlist

Stolen kisses in broom closets, hidden touches in-between classes, laying alone together in the astronomy tower or the room of requirement; that was your relationship with Theo. A relationship his father, his peers, no one from the magical society he associated with would approve. Of course you knew that when everything started, and that is why you curse yourself now; minutes from the Ball all your friends are attending, dressed in a beautiful gown you picked, crying your eyes out for the love story you will never have with the person you want most.

But let’s take this from the start

You two have know each other since your first year, you met him on the train; a quiet boy, with curious eyes. 

When you said goodbye to your parents and boarded the train you were filled with excitement and fear. Overwhelmed by the many unknown faces you came across, you quickly ran to the first quiet room you could find on the train and that is how stumbled across Theo. You were shy at first but introduced yourself.

Afficher davantage

Just finished this one movie with James Phelps, called "Patchwork" after I have been hearing a lot about it from my followers on Instagram. I have never felt more awkward while watching a movie, but at the same time I could't stop laughing 😂

harry potter: goblet of fire DR | visualisation board

High Dumbledore

Right so I’m 110% convinced that Dumbledore was just high as a kite throughout the entire series. Like after Grindlewald and the first rise of Voldemort he decides he's had enough of being serious. He’s got enough money that it won't matter if he gets fired, and he’s got enough of a reputation that he thinks he can get away with it. So he just decides to live his life very high and manipulating other people to do various things to entertain him. 

Most people don’t even notice, and think he’s just an eccentric genius. The people who do become suspicious drop it because they have never seen him smoke or take any other drug. But, he’s actually laced his lemon drops with his drug of preference (nothing to hardcore). He manages to avoid suspicion by offering them to absolutely everyone, completely secure in the knowledge no one else would ever accept one. 

(Also imagine one day some 6th or 7th year student actually accepts on and Dumbledore just let’s him/her take it and they go on a wild trip in Dumbledore’s office. They have learned his secret. Now Dumbledore winks at them whenever he publicly eats a lemon drop, and this poor student is left with the truth and the knowledge that no one would ever believe them.)

Harry Potter preferences...

How you meet:

(Wattpad saw these first. I hope you all enjoy.)

Harry:

Regular P.O.V:

You and your best mate Hermione are walking through the Hogwarts Express trying to help your new friend Neville find his toad but you didn't seem to be having much luck, you come to a stop at a compartment with two boys, "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one." "No." The ginger boy says. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see them." Hermione loves seeing someone do magic.

Your P.O.V:

But right now I just feel completely awkward standing here, I really wish she'd hurry up. "Aghhhemm. Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" I couldn't help but let out a slight giggle, there is no way that's a proper spell and judging by the fact the rat didn't change colour I can tell I'm right. "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course, I've only tried a few simple spells myself, and they've all worked for me. For example..." Hermione goes over and sits across from the young boy with glasses. She points her wand at his glasses and his tenses, he looks a little frightened, blesses him. "Oculus Reparo." The glasses, which noseband is battered, are repaired. The boy takes them off, amazed. "That's better, isn't it? Holy Cricket, you're Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Granger, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)...and you are...?" I give a small wave and they wave back, Now that I too realise he is Harry Potter, I become a little shy. The ginger boy speaks with a full mouth. "I'm...Ron Weasley." Hermione is a little grossed out that he speaks with a full mouth and frankly so am I. "Pleasure. You two better change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." She says and gets up and leaves then come back and look at Ron. "You've got dirt, on your nose, by the way, did you know? Just there." She points to where the dirt is and I can't help but giggle, Ron scratches his nose, embarrassed. "Bye, guys pleasure to meet you," I say walking away smiling and continuing to help find Neville's toad.

Ron:

Your P.O.V:

It's my first year at Hogwarts and I'm standing in the front waiting to be sorted into a house, I can't help but feel nervous I really hope I get into Slytherin, If I don't my parents will more than likely disown me. "(Y/N) Malfoy" Professor McGonagall shouts. I make my way to the front and all I can do is hope I'm in Slytherin. I look at my older brother by a year Draco and he looks back at me hoping the same as I. "Gryffindor." The sorting hat shouts, I'm not disappointed but I feel ashamed and like my family are going to do nothing but resent me for this, I make my way to the Gryffindor table and sit next to a ginger boy who I assume is a Weasley. "Hi, I'm Ron... Ron Weasley." I guess he was so busy stuffing his face he didn't hear my name being called, hmm oh well. "(Y/N)... (Y/N) Malfoy" I say feeling a little sad. "You're a Malfoy??? I'm guessing that's why you don't look too happy about being in Gryffindor." Ron says, and he's right I'm not happy, not happy at all. "Yeah, but I'll get used to it," I say wishing that I do get used to it because from now on this is more than likely the place I'll be spending my days every holiday.

Draco:

Regular P.O.V:

You've known Draco since you were ten, you had moved to his neighboured just before your tenth birthday and your mother was throwing you a party which was more for her than you honestly. When the party day arrived you stayed downstairs for about half an hour and made your way back to your room. About an hour later a young blonde haired boy had made his way into your room, he hadn't noticed you at first, that was until you spoke. "Ahem, may I ask why you're in my room?" He turned around shocked, and you couldn't help but let out a slight giggle. "I-I..." "Let me guess hiding from everyone?" and he nodded...

Your P.O.V:

"Thought so, me too... I'm (Y/N)... (Y/N/) (Y/L/N)." I smiled at him, he looked so peculiar with his bright blonde hair. "Draco... Draco Malfoy... And wait isn't this your party? How come you're not down stair with everyone else?" I couldn't help but laugh at him, he was confused as to why I was laughing though. "You sure do ask a lot of questions. And yes this is supposed to be my party but my mother is more bothered about herself than me so I left and decided to leave her to do whatever it is she wanted. Anyway, there's a spare bedroom down the hall, second door on your right if you want to hide there." I said smiling at him. "Thank you, (Y/N)... You're a real hero." I couldn't help but aww and laugh at the same time, and I couldn't help but think that I and he would be great friends no matter what.

Neville:

Your P.O.V:

I made my way through the Hogwarts Express finding my way into an empty compartment. Not too long after a young boy about my age stepped into my compartment. "H-H-Hi, h-have yous-seen a tt-toad by a-any c-chance? I lost m-mine." I couldn't help but think how adorable he was and I couldn't help but smile at the fact that he was stuttering. "No, I'm sorry I haven't sorry... But I can help you look if you like?" I smiled nicely at him. "O-oh yes please, tt-that would be great. T-thank y-you. I-I'm Neville Longbottom by the w-w-way." He beamed at me, holding out his hand for me to shake. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Pleasure to meet you." I shook his hand politely, and we went on our way to find his toad.

Seamus:

Your P.O.V:

I have just arrived at Hogwarts and I'm now waiting at the steps for Professor McGonagall to return. All of a sudden a young blonde boy starts speaking, "It's true then, what they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." And the students start whispering among themselves. "This is Crabbe and Goyle" He nods to his dimwitted sidekicks "and I'm Malfoy...Draco Malfoy." The ginger boy snickers at his name. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley. We'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. Don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." And he extends his hand towards who I assume is Harry Potter. "How about you leave them alone Draco," I say making my way through the crowd. "And who are you?" He asks me quite rudely. "Why would I tell you? You're nothing but an arrogant fool, and honestly, I think Harry is able to pick his own friends unlike you... I have a feeling Daddy paid for them to be your friends." All the students start whispering again, they're all shocked at the fact that I spoke my mind and insulted a Malfoy. "My father will hear about this." I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh please do tell, I'd love to give him a piece of my mind too, for raising his kid to be nothing but a complete imbecile." He walked away with a face full of anger and to be honest that just made my day, I then made my way back to another end of the crowd. Suddenly, a boy with short brown hair came to me. "I can't believe you spoke to Malfoy like that, you're pretty fearless aren't ya." He spoke with a strong Irish accent. "Well I don't back down from someone who's so stupid and thinks he can make fun of anybody and get away with it, it's not something I'll tolerate." I grinned at him as I said that. "I'm Seamus, Seamus Finnigan... May I ask your name?" "(Y/N) (Y/L/N), nice to meet you." I smiled holding out my hand for him to shake, and he gladly obliged.

Fred:

Regular P.O.V

You've been at Hogwarts for a month now and today you were heading to detention which you received because a girl next to you was talking and when Professor McGonagall turned round to check who it was the girl blamed it on you, which you weren't very pleased about and you swore to get her back with an amazing prank. But for now detention had to come first, you reached the class and saw your aunt mima stood at the front of the class and a pair of twins sat at the front desk.

Your P.O.V

"Hello Aunt Mima, sorry I'm late... What do I have to do?" I say as nicely as I can because right now I really don't feel like being here. "Well, sweetheart you'll writing lines, now boys be nice to (Y/N) while I'm gone." And away she walked. "So Professor McGonagall is your Aunt?" One of the twins spoke. "Yep," I said not really engaged in the conversation. "What're you in detention for then?" Again with another question I thought. "Because a girl was talking in class, and she blamed it on me. But she's going to regret it trust, imma get her back big time." I said rather confidently. "Oooh I like the sound of that, what're ya planning on doing, pulling a prank?" he said rather intrigued in what I had just said and his brother seemed rather intrigued too because he turned to look at me, and watching me waiting for me to reply. "You sure do ask a lot of questions... And yes a prank, how else?" I couldn't help but laugh. "Fair point, I'm Fred by the way, Fred Weasley... And this is George, George Weasley." Really... I think to myself, really. "George, A Weasley... I never would have thought... It's not that you too like a like or anything... I'm (Y/N) McGonagall, nice meeting ya Fred and George." After that, we all just burst out laughing. This was the making of a beautiful friendship.

George:

Regular P.O.V:

You're a year younger than George and didn't really meet him until you tried out for Quidditch, you loved playing ever since you were a kid. You made the team and you met George at your first practice, you were sat mocking everyone because they were being so boring and you just wanted to have fun. Suddenly a ginger boy who looks about a year older sat next to you.

Your P.O.V:

"What are you doing?" He asked. "Mocking everyone, isn't it obvious?" I couldn't help but giggle ever so slightly. "No, haha I mean why? Are you bored or something?" I couldn't help but smile that he finally figured it out, especially since it's a little obvious I'm bored haha. "Yes it's because I'm bored, this game is supposed to be fun and this whole thing has been a complete drag, we've been here twenty minutes and we haven't even started yet... Oh, excuse me for not introducing myself. I'm (Y/N) Lovegood. You are?" I asked wondering who this stranger could be, I've seen him around I just don't know his name. "George Weasley, and to be honest I'm bored too so let's mock people together." I laughed so hard at the fact that he wanted to mock people along with me. After I finished laughing I wiped away the tears that had formed from me laughing so hard. “Ok then." I agreed and we started to mock people and it was so much funnier and better now that I had someone doing it along with me. I couldn't help but feel really happy when I'm around him, I think I've officially found myself a new best friend.

(If anyone has any notes please let me know, or any ideas on what to write next etc... All help and notes are welcome. I appreciate any help given).

Harry Potter preferences...

Your BFFs:

Harry:

Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom

Ron:

Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley

Draco:

George and Fred Weasley

Neville:

Seamus Finnigan and Cho Chang

Seamus:

Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley

Fred:

Draco Malfoy and Cedric Diggory

George:

Oliver Wood and Pansy Parkinson

Harry Potter preferences...

Nicknames:

Harry:

For him; Honey

To annoy him; Snookums... He thinks it's just weird and he just doesn't like it.

For you; HoneyBear... He's always called you this and in return you call him Honey because he's the Honey to your HoneyBear

To annoy you; Ducky... You have no idea why he calls you this but it really annoys you and you don't like being called it.

Ron:

For him; Romeo... Because he's sweet and you know he'll do anything to protect you

To annoy him; Spider... Because you know how much he hates spiders and just him hearing the name he get's scared which you find adorable but he doesn't like you for it but he get's over it.

For you; Juliet... Because you're the Juliet to his Romeo and It also goes because of the fact that you're from completely different families and neither of them agree with your relationship but you don't care what they think

To annoy you; Clown... He calls you this because you like to experiment with makeup and he thinks you put too much on, he also calls you it because he knows how much you're scared of clowns and he calls it payback for calling him spider.

Draco:

For him; Prince... you call him this because he's the prince of slytherin and he's a real prince towards you, which people don't expect from him at all.

To annoy him; Dracy Poo.. You call him this because you know how much he hates that name... You always do it in a Pansy voice as well which causes him to scrunch his nose up in disgust which you find cute but funny at the same time.

For you; Kitten... He calls you this because he thinks you have the most sweetest and bubbliest personalities ever just like a kitten, he also calls you this because he thinks you're just as adorable as a kitten and he likes the fact that you're all his.

To annoy you; Pickle... Which you hate and he finds you so cute when he calls you it and you look at him in disgust... You think pickles are disgusting and you just hate the name just as much.

Neville:

For him; Sweetcheek... you call him this because he's the sweetest guy you have ever met and he has the most adorable chubby cheeks and you called him sweetcheeks once and it just stuck.

To annoy him; you don't have a name to annoy him with because you just don't see the point in them.

For you; Buttercup... he just randomly called you this and it just stuck, he never really tried to call you anything else because he liked this one since the moment he called you it.

To annoy you; same as his he doesn't see the point in it so he just doesn't.

Seamus:

For him; Stud muffin... which you call him because you think he's a really stud and you love muffins just as much as you love him so you thought it was a good nickname for him.

To annoy him; Bomber... You call him this because he has a thing for blowing things up which you find cute but he gets really vexed when you call him bomber because he knows you're taking the micky out of him and he doesn't like it when you do.

For you; Cupcake... He calls you this because nearly every time he see's you, you're eating some sort of cake and he thinks the nickname really suits you.

To annoy you; he can't really think of a name to annoy you but he's trying so hard to find one because he wants to annoy just as much as he annoys you.

Fred:

For him; Future Husband/Handsome... You've always called him this because you've always been great friends and you love to call him it especially in front of Angelina Johnson because you know how much it annoys her.

To annoy him; BFG (big friendly giant)... You call him this because he is so tall compared to you and you hate it... but not as much as he hates you calling him bfg.

For you; Future Wife/Gorgeous... He calls you this all the time and it doesn't matter if it's in front of no one or in front of a thousand people he'll still call you it.

To annoy you; Munchkin... he calls you this because you're so much smaller than him and he loves your annoyed face that you get when he says it because you hate being called anything related to being small.

George:

For him; Superman... You started calling him this after you were knocked off your broom and he swooped down to catch you and you've always felt like he'll be there to catch you when you fall and to you superman was the most perfect fit for him.

To annoy him; The failure of pranks... He acts all offended every time you say it which you find so cute so you say it a lot which caused him to start getting annoyed by it but he doesn't really understand why you always say.

For you; Lois Lane... He calls you this right after you call him superman, he says if he's superman then you're the Lois Lane to his superman.

To annoy you; Teachers Pet... he calls you this because you're McGonagall's niece and he loves how annoyed you get when he says it, he also loves that every time he calls you it you start pulling pranks on all the teachers.

Harry Potter preferences...

His favourite Gif of you:

Harry:

He loves that you're so photogenic and he loves seeing you smile.

Ron:

He loves that you eat just as much as him. He also loves how comfortable you are with yourself and how you don't care what others think.

Draco:

He loves watching you doing your little dances when your bored he thinks you look so cute when you do them.

Neville:

He thinks you look so adorable when you do things like this... He can't help but smile along with you.

Seamus:

He loves how you don't let anyone step all over you... He like that you're not afraid of anyone even the Malfoy's.

Fred:

He loves the fact that every time he turns to look at you, you get all shy and he finds it so cute when you're shy.

George:

He thinks you have such a cute yet crazy side and he loves it so much.

Harry Potter preferences...

His favourite photo of you with your BFF/s: (Part 1)

Harry:

With Hermione;

With Neville;

Ron:

With Luna and Ginny;

Draco:

With Fred and George;

Neville:

With Cho and Seamus;

Seamus:

With Luna;

With Ginny;

With Hermione;

All of you;

Harry Potter preferences...

His favourite photo of you with your BFF/s: (Part 2)

Fred:

With Draco;

With Cedric;

George:

With Oliver;

With Pansy;

Harry Potter preferences...

His favourite outfit on you:

Harry:

Ron:

Draco:

Neville:

Seamus:

Fred:

George:

Harry Potter preferences...

How he asks you to be his girlfriend:

Harry:

His P.O.V:

She was sat quietly in the library reading a book about magical creatures to kill time as she had nothing better to be done for the rest of the day. When suddenly, BANG! A loud noise was heard throughout the entire library, I could see her wondering where that noise came from. I hope she doesn't notice it was me, not just yet anyway. She stood up searching for where that sound came from. So, I stood still behind the old, dusty shelf, waiting for her to come wandering around the corner to find the surprise, I have on my invisibility cloak so she doesn't see me yet. Finally, I see her trotting along to where I made the noise. She looked around as she noticed the little box I placed there for her, waiting and anticipating for her to open it.

Your P.O.V:

I heard a loud noise coming from behind the shelves in the library and before, I knew it my feet took me towards the sound. When I got here, I saw nothing but a tiny little box wrapped in a nice mint green wrapping paper and a golden ribbon. I picked it up wondering who's it could be when I saw a tag attached so I made the decision to check and see who it belonged to. Once I looked I noticed it had my name on it, hmm how peculiar I thought but yet it was so exciting, so I opened it to which a whole bunch of confetti and fireworks flew out, BANG! WOOOSH! WOOO! I looked up to discover the fireworks spelling out, 'WILL YOU (Y/N) (Y/L/N), DO ME THE HONOUR OF BEING MY GIRLFRIEND? - HARRY POTTER' wow, how beautiful I thought, I could not help but have the biggest grin on my face. Suddenly, I hear a noise from behind me, "so, will you?" it was Harry, I just looked at him with the biggest smile ever, this was the best day of my life. Obviously, I nodded my head frantically because of course who wouldn't, it's THE Harry Potter, every girl loved him, and of course, I was one of those girls, and I am still one of those girls.

Ron:

Your P.O.V:

I've just finished my last lesson of the day and have now decided to go find Ron, I haven't seen him the past couple of hours and I'm worried about him, what if he's sick. I saw Harry and Hermione walking my way and who better to ask about Ron than his two best friends, am I right? "Harry, Hermione, have either of you seen Ron anywhere?" I politely asked. Harry was looking at me in this weird way, and it began to make me feel as though I had something on my face. Hermione elbowed Harry in the ribs which to me was rather odd, but nevermind that I need to find Ron. "Oh, Ron is in the kitchen with the house elves, feel free to go find him," Hermione told me. I could tell she was trying to hold back a huge smile but I wonder why. Hmm, oh well I'll just talk to her about it later. "Ok, thank you," I replied and set off walking towards the kitchen. It took me ten minutes to get here but at least I finally arrived. I walked through the doors to see Ron covered in what seemed to be flour. 'Huh, I wonder what he's been up to.' "Ron, what are you doing? You look like a complete mess." I spoke. "Oh, (Y/N), you're here, erm I was just making cupcakes." The minute I heard the word cupcake, I rushed over, grabbed one and took a bite. "Bloody hell (Y/N), you were supposed to read them first." 'Oops,' I thought. "Ronald, seriously? How was I supposed to know that? And besides, its cupcakes how can I hold back from eating one." I said. "Look, I'll put it back and read them," I spoke again. Lucky enough I only took a small bite and the letter was still written on the cupcake. "Good." He replied. I placed the cupcake back where I got it and look at them to see it said '(Y/N) WILL YOU DO ME THE HONOUR OF BEING MY GIRLFRIEND?' as I read it I felt a small tear drop onto my hand. I then turned to look at Ron with a huge smile on my face. "Ronald Weasley, I would love to be your girlfriend," I spoke ecstatically, knowing that this is the start of a beautiful relationship.

Draco:

Regular P.O.V:

You were sat at the Gryffindor table when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. You turned around to see Crabbe stood there with a beautiful white rose. 'Hmm, my favourite.' You thought. "Follow the roses." Was all he said and pointed towards the Great Hall doors. You arose (no pun intended) from your seat and began walking towards the doors. There stood Goyle with another rose in his hand. 'How peculiar' you thought. "Keep going." He said. So you walked through the doors and heard Fred and George shouting your name. "(Y/N), This way, come on (Y/N), move those legs." Which caused you to laugh at them. 'Oh Merlin, these two are strange' you soon arrived in front of them and the boy gave you a rose each. "Just a few more to go." then pointed in the direction in which you're supposed to walk. You looked at the end of the hall and saw Ron standing there and began to make your way there. "Almost there, just head that way," Ron said nodding his head in the direction in which you're supposed to go while handing you another rose. You were so confused as to what was going on but you felt so intrigued to find out what was going on and how it all ends. You continued your walk and came to find Harry with another rose. "Just one more of these and you're there." 'Huh,' you thought. You then began to quicken your pace to see what was lying ahead. You came to a stop when you found Hermoine with the last rose. "Just there." She spoke in her soft voice and pointed outside towards the Whomping Willow, you took the final rose and made your way there. You came to a halt when you say 'Be Mine? - Yours Truly, Draco' written in rose petals. You heard someone say "ahem" from behind you and turned to see Draco. "I would love to be yours." You told him. "Good, and don't say anything about me asking Potter and his friends to help. I did it for you and that's all you need to know." You giggled at what he had said and thought to yourself. 'Best. Day. Ever'

Neville:

His P.O.V:

So, today's the day I've finally decided to ask out my crush. Her name is (Y/N). She's so beautiful, she has (H/L) (H/C) hair that frames her face perfectly. Her smooth (S/C) skin is radiant when the sun hits it just right. And her li- "Hey Nev, you ok?" A voice pulled me from my thoughts, it's her, oh Godric I'd know that angelic voice anywhere. "Ugh, erm, yeah. I'm good. I'm just getting a couple of books to study. Are you ok? And what you up to?" I already know what she's doing, I know her schedule better than my own and I know she's here to do a bit of light reading but I wouldn't want to say that out loud I mean she will think I'm a complete freak just like everyone else already does. "Oh, ok. You look a little a pale and I thought you might be feeling a little sick, but anyway I've just come for a bit of reading, would you care to join me?" I could listen to her talk all day. "Oh, sure. I'd love too, that would be great, I mean only if I-" "Nev, you're rambling, now just come on, let's go find some seats." "Yeah, sure," I told her as we began walking, we walked all the way to the back of the library and sat down on the seats further back. 'Ok,' I thought 'time to put this plan into action' "Nice book that, how far have you got?" I asked, trying not to let the nerves get the better of me. "I'm just on chapter thirteen, and honestly it seems pretty good so far." "That's good. Can you do me a favour? Go to page five hundred and twenty-one, line seven." I asked her, god I hope this goes well.

Your P.O.V:

Huh, Nev seems to be acting a little strange but that can wait. I've decided to do what he's asked and went to the page and look at line seven. The words 'This was his moment, it was time to ask her, but will she say yes...' Wait. What. Is he... Oh my gosh... He's asking me out. "Oh Nev, yes, yes, yes thousand times yes." this is the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I'm glad it was Nev, I mean I've adored him since we met each other in my compartment of the train.

Seamus:

Your P.O.V:

I was walking down the hall when I noticed if I didn't hurry up I would be late for my next class. I parted ways with my friends and scurried off down the hall towards potions. There's no way I can risk being late considering the fact that I have Professor Snape for a teacher, he's so heartless and doesn't even give you a chance with anything if you're not Slytherin and guess what I'm not Slytherin. I walked into the classroom and realised that he wasn't here yet, phew, I thought. I took my seat next to Seamus as I usually would but for some reason he looked extremely nervous, I wonder why? But before I could ask Professor Snape walked in. 'Great' I thought. The class proceeded as normal and halfway through making my potion, I heard the usual bang come from the side of me, which usually meant Seamus messed up his potion, so I turned to the side to help him fix things as I'd normally do. Only this time I noticed something different. I saw the words 'Will you (Y/N), please be my girlfriend' written within the smoke. I looked at Seamus who said "Will you?" with a nervous smile etched on his face. "Yes, definitely yes," I spoke with excitement laced in my voice. "Miss (Y/L/N), Mr Finnigan. Detention." I heard Professor Snape say The one thing I didn't want to happen today, happened. But in all honesty, it's definitely worth it.

Fred:

Regular P.O.V:

Today's the day for the Quidditch match. It's Gryffindor VS Slytherin to see which team shall win the final match of the year. Yet even though you should be cheering for Slytherin you're not. In fact, you're actually cheering and screaming for Gryffindor instead, all you keep doing is cheering for Fred Weasley, your crush and George. All you want is for them to win but at the moment they only have 70 points and Slytherin have 80, which of course you're happy with because it is your house team but you'd be so much happier if it was the other way around. You're pulled from your thoughts when you saw a bludger come your way but before it had the chance to get close enough you saw Fred fly down to save the day, he hit the bludger away then turned to you to give a sly wink. You couldn't help but let the blush form on your face. Then all of a sudden they called for a time out and everyone began chattering among themselves confused as to what was going on. Then suddenly Fred was in front of all the players with a microphone at hand "So," you heard him say, you looked right at him to see what he was about to do next. "We all know this gorgeous girl that I always have by my side, she's my partner in crime, well my other one, I also have George." You couldn't help but laugh at that. "Well, anyway, she's perfect and I've been crushing on her for a long time now and well I have this for her." And randomly the team started flying around to spell out. 'Will you please go out with me?' and then Fred began flying towards you. You stood shocked. He arrived right in front of you and said: "So, (Y/N) will you be mine?" You stood nodding your head vigorously not knowing what to say because you felt as though you couldn't trust your words. Fred smiled at you as though he'd won the lottery and screamed through the microphone 'she said yes' and the whole crowd began to go wild. You felt as though you had never been happier in your whole entire life than at this moment right now. This is the start to a beautiful life to a guy you've been in love with for quite a while now and you can't wait to see what the future has in store for you both.

George:

Your P.O.V:

I was sat with Fred in the Gryffindor common room waiting for George so that we could go get dinner, but I wonder what's taking him so long. Suddenly Fred stood up and told me to follow him. "But what about George?" I asked, "Don't worry, we're off to find him." He replied. So I stood up and began to follow him, we had a small conversation about his pranks and how good he feels his and George's prank will be. Next thing I knew we had arrived in the middle of the Quidditch field and saw a beautiful picnic laid out. "Fred, what's going on?" I asked but when I looked up he was nowhere to be seen. "Fred... Fred..." I kept shouting but he wasn't anywhere near here. I sat down on the blanket, wondering what was going on when all of a sudden I felt someone grab my shoulders while screaming boo. I jumped, feeling frightened. I turned myself around to see George stood there, I picked up a pillow and began hitting him with it while screaming at him, telling him how much of an idiot he is for scaring you like that. "Ouch, ouch, stop it, woman, I'm sorry." He said while laughing. "Yeah, you better be, now what the hell is all this you idiot?" I asked. "Well, this dear is a date." He replied. "Oh," I said. "So, erm, (Y/N) how about I teach you to fly." George suddenly said. "Ok," I replied. We got up and he began to teach me how to ride a broom. We had now been doing this for about an hour when all of a sudden I began to lose my grip. I began to fall off my broom and screamed for George and he swooped me into his arms. "Why thank you for saving my life. You're my hero, my very own Superman." I said while laughing "Well if I'm Superman can you be my Lois Lane?" George asked with seriousness laced within his voice which caused me to stop laughing. I stared straight into his eyes and replied with "Nothing would make me happier than being Lois Lane to your Superman." And with that, he flew you back toward the ground where you sat and finished your picnic while waiting for the sunset to come. (You told him about Superman because you're muggleborn and know all about him, so you thought it would be fun to tell him about superheroes and anything related to them).

The Truth: Draco Malloy x Reader (Part 1)

(A/N Here’s an image I wrote for someone on my account on Quotev, but I’m gonna change her name to (Y/N) instead of her name being there so that you can put your name into it or whatever, also no hate please, it’s the first I’ve ever written, but I would like honest opinions though haha, also I edited a few things because I re-read it and it sounds a little weird, but anyway here you go.)

Right now I’m sat in stupid detention for mouthing back to Professor Snape, not my fault he’s such an invalid. But right now I don’t even care about any of this. My main point of focus is Draco, and YES the Draco. He’s been ignoring me all week and I have no idea why… To be honest I’m getting quite sick and tired of it. So today after detention I’ve decided I’m going to confront him about it. I believe I’m owed an explanation for being ignored when I haven’t even done anything wrong. Argh. Some boys.

*10 minutes later*

Finally, finished writing these stupid lines. “Professor, I’ve finished writing the lines, please may I be excused now” I say as politely as I can hoping he’ll let me go… I can’t stand being here any longer than I have to. “Ah, let me see Miss (Y/L/N), hmm good, good you may go.” Yes I thought to myself, thank god. “Thank you, Professor.” I screamed as I ran out the double doors. Now, to the common room to find Draco. I don’t know why but the minute I started running, I couldn’t stop, but that was until I bumped into someone. “Watch it. Can’t you see I’m running here.” I say standing up to look at who I ran into. And to my surprise it’s none other than Draco. “Oh, good it’s you. We need to talk!” I spit. “Not now (Y/N). I’m not in the mood.” He said to me as coldly as ever. I’ve never seen him this mad before, It’s kind of frightening. He starts to walk away and all I can do is grab his arm and try to make him look at me. “Draco. Look at me.” But he wasn’t having a bar of, he pulled his arm away from me and he ran away from me. Even though he ran away, I still need to talk to him. So I ran and ran until he was in my view again. This time I see he’s not alone, Harry is following him. They’re turning and entering the bathroom, I stand outside waiting to see what happens. I see Draco lunging towards the mirror, steadying himself against the sink. Then, with a great, heaving shudder he begins to… CRY. I’ve never seen this side to him. He looks so distraught, it kills me to see him this way. In the mirror, I see Harry. He stops. Shocked. Draco’s eyes shift. Horrified to be exposed. He wheels, points his wand. WHOOSH! The lamp next to Harry’s head shatters. Flames spider up the ceiling. Harry draws his own wand, fires back. The cistern behind Draco explodes and water sweeps the ceiling, raining down. Draco howls with rage. Harry readies himself. “Cruci–” Draco shouts, but gets cut off by Harry. “SECTUMSEMPRA!” Harry screams. Blood spurts from Draco’s face and scarlet slashes ooze through the white of his shirt. He staggers, howls again and collapses. “Ahhh no, no, no.” I cry. “What have you done? What is wrong with you?” Screaming rhetorical questions at him as I ran and sat beside Draco bawling my eyes out, while looking at Harry. Harry glares at his wand in horror, then slushes across the floor, the water running red with Draco’s blood. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me!” Draco shrieks.  Harry stops dead in his tracks… transfixed by a flash of something dark pushing through the wet fabric of Draco’s shirtsleeve. Just then… Snape BURSTS THROUGH THE DOOR. Seeing Malfoy – and the nature of his injuries – he eyes Harry with keen curiosity. Kneeling, he traces the tip of his wand over Malfoy’s wounds, murmuring an eerie incantation. Instantly, the skin begins to knit itself together. “Leave. Harry. NOW!” I yell. Harry, jumps up and runs out of the bathroom. On the other hand Snape picks up Draco, taking him to Madam Pomfrey with me not far behind. As soon as we reach the hospital wing he lies Draco down and the bed as Madam Pomfrey comes over to give him some sort of medicine, I wasn’t really paying much attention. “Professor, If you’d like I can stay with him.” I whisper, reassuring Snape that he’s in good hands with me. “Yes. Very well then, if anything else happens be sure to come find me Miss (Y/L/N)” Nodding at me. As soon as he leaves I take a seat next to Draco’s bedside and wait for him to awaken. It’s been five minutes when I see Draco start shifting about and opening his eyes. “Hey, you ok? You scares the living daylights out of me. I seriously thought I’d lost you.” Whispering to him, hoping he didn’t hear the last part. When I look back at him I see him smiling. “What?” I couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Nothing, nothing. Anyway I’m fine. Sorry for worrying you, and just so you know, I would never leave you.” Muttering the last few words, so I couldn’t hear him, little does he know I did. “Ermm, Draco. I don't know why you’ve been ignoring me all week, did I do something wrong?”