Hagrid's booming dismissal cut through the air, a swift rejection of the notion that Snape would place a curse on Harry's broom. "Nonsense! Why on earth would Snape put a curse on Harry's broom?" Hagrid scoffed, his voice a blend of incredulity and loyalty.

The quartet of first-years walked in tandem, flanked by Hagrid's towering presence. Harry's retort was quick and determined, his steps matching the rhythm of his argument. "Who knows? But you tell me, Hagrid, why was Snape attempting to sneak past that enormous three-headed dog on Halloween?" His words held a challenge, an insistence that the puzzle pieces of Snape's behavior needed to fit together.

The skeptical gaze that Hagrid turned upon them was a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "Who in the world told you about Fluffy?" he inquired, his tone shifting towards a guarded curiosity.

"Fluffy," Y/N echoed with a touch of amusement, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue.

Hermione's question carried a blend of surprise and incredulity. "That creature has a name?"

Hagrid's response was passionate, his pride evident in his voice. "Of course he's got a name! Fluffy's his name, he is." A hint of sentimentality tinged his words. "He's my loyal beast," he continued, his voice cracking just a bit. "Bought him from an Irish fellow I crossed paths with down at the pub last year." Hagrid's voice carried a trace of nostalgia, a rare vulnerability that peeked through the surface.

Then, as if struck by a realization, Hagrid's voice trailed off, and his eyes grew misty. "I lent him to Dumbledore to, uh, guard something." The words hung in the air like a secret unveiled, a hint of hesitation revealing a story that was only partially told.

Curiosity sparked within Harry, and he leaned into the conversation. "Guard what, Hagrid?" he inquired, his words a gentle push for more information.

The sudden weight of the revelation seemed to dawn on Hagrid, and he grumbled under his breath. "Shouldn't have said that, I should not have..." He appeared to be wrestling with the words, the truth laid bare before the eager inquisitiveness of the first-years. He shook his head, attempting to close the door on the subject. 

"No more questions!" he declared with a mixture of irritation and finality. "Don't go proddin' any further. It's top-secret, that's what it is." The urgency in his voice underscored the importance of keeping whatever Fluffy guarded under wraps.

Harry, however, wasn't about to let the matter rest. "But, Hagrid, listen. Snape seems to be after whatever Fluffy's guarding," he persisted, his determination unwavering.

Hagrid's rebuttal was a defense of Snape's character. "Codswallop! Professor Snape is a member of Hogwarts' faculty," he retorted firmly.

Hermione, always one to approach matters with a logical perspective, interjected with her own insight. "Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a spell when I see one. And let me tell you, I've read extensively about them!" Her voice carried the weight of knowledge, a confidence that bolstered her stance. 

"You see, you have to maintain eye contact during the casting of a spell. Snape, I can guarantee, wasn't blinking." Her words were delivered with a deadpan certainty that left little room for doubt.

"Exactly!" Harry's nod of agreement sealed the conversation, a silent understanding.

"Now you've got to listen to me, all four of you," Hagrid's words carried a weight of seriousness as he lowered his voice, creating an almost conspiratorial atmosphere.  "You're meddling in things that shouldn't be meddled in!" His words were a stern admonition, a reminder of the unseen dangers that lurked in the realm of magic.

He leaned in closer, his voice a mixture of urgency and concern. "Understand this—it's not just curiosity that can get you into trouble. These matters are perilous, more than you can fathom."

The curiosity in their eyes was palpable, their anticipation hanging in the air. The revelation seemed to weigh heavily on Hagrid's shoulders, and he took a deep breath before speaking again, his words laden with secrecy. 

"That dog you encountered, the one guarding the secret, it's a matter strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel!" The words slipped out, as if Hagrid's resolve was momentarily weakened by the pressing questions that had accumulated.

"Nicholas Flamel?" Y/N repeated, a mixture of intrigue and surprise coloring her voice. Hagrid's widened eyes revealed that he had said more than he intended.

"Shouldn't have said that," he muttered to himself, his self-censure evident. He turned to walk away, as if hoping to escape the gravity of the situation he had unintentionally unveiled.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry exchanged glances, a shared unspoken curiosity that demanded satisfaction. "Nicholas Flamel?" Harry's voice was a soft murmur, a question that hung in the air like a promise of unraveling secrets.

Expectations turned towards Hermione, their gaze fixated on the bookworm of the group, as if her intellect held the answers to the enigma that had been presented. But Hermione's response was a simple shake of her head, her lips curving into a wry smile. 

"I don't know."

✴✴✴✴✴

Y/N settled into the seat next to Hermione in the dimly lit Potions classroom, a flicker of curiosity dancing in her red eyes. "Who do you reckon Nicholas Flamel is?" she inquired, her words carrying a light, conversational tone.

Hermione's patience seemed to waver just a touch, her expression morphing into a deadpan. "For the last time, I do not know," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exasperation.

Y/N leaned back slightly, a playful grin tugging at her lips. "What? But that's impossible, I thought you knew everything!" Her words held a playful edge, and Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Oh, shut up," Hermione retorted in a hushed voice, her gaze darting around the classroom with a mix of annoyance and caution. "Don't talk to me in class, Professor Snape'll scold me because of you." She shot Y/N a look, her expression a blend of seriousness and exasperation.

Y/N's response was an unimpressed look, her eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded Hermione. "Such a goody-two-shoes," she grumbled under her breath, her words barely audible.

The sudden sound of Snape's voice, velvety and laced with authority, cut through the air from behind the girls. Both of them turned to face him, their expressions caught in a momentary freeze, their lips slightly parted. "Miss Crimson," Snape's voice flowed evenly, his presence imposing. 

"Care to share what you two are so interested in talking about? Or maybe it's a lovers' quarrel only private for the pair of you?" There was a distinct monotone to his words, yet a subtle blush managed to tint the cheeks of both Y/N and Hermione.

Hermione's voice carried a touch of defensiveness as she tried to explain, her words stumbling a bit in her haste. "Professor, I— we weren't..."

Y/N's voice cut through the quiet atmosphere of the Potions classroom, her tone deadpan as she addressed the topic at hand. 

"We were just talking about the political economic state of the world," she stated casually, her words a touch ironic given the setting. Hermione's head snapped towards Y/N, her gaze sharpened into a stern glare as she took in the audacity of the conversation.

Before the weight of that stare could settle, Snape's commanding voice sliced through the air like a blade. "You're in Potions, discuss about it somewhere else," he barked, his annoyance palpable.

 Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at the rebuke, the corner of her lips tugging up in a subtle display of defiance. She turned away from Snape's gaze to meet Hermione's, a silent exchange passing between them.

The Gryffindor's glare was already in place, an unspoken protest against the conversation's disruption of the class. Despite the intensity of Hermione's expression, Y/N met her with an air of amusement, as if finding the whole situation rather entertaining.

"Inflation?" Y/N whispered playfully, her words a teasing addition to the already charged atmosphere. Hermione's eyes rolled heavenward, her irritation with Y/N's antics evident as she grumbled softly and turned her gaze away. Y/N's chuckle brushing against the edges of the moment.

✴✴✴✴✴

Y/N settled before the mirror, the soft glow illuminating the room as she prepared to meet Hermione in the library. The invitation to study together had been extended, and Y/N's heart danced with an anticipation that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The task at hand was simple: picking out clothes. 

Normally, she paid little mind to her attire, opting for something haphazard and comfortable. But today felt different, almost as if the stakes were higher, as if her outfit carried more significance than usual. With each garment she considered, she couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, she wanted Hermione to see her in a different light.

As Y/N's fingers sifted through her wardrobe, she pondered each choice with a touch more care than she was accustomed to. The fabric beneath her touch held a promise of the evening ahead, and her reflection seemed to hold secrets that even she hadn't yet grasped. Turning to her friend Aurora, who was perched nearby, Y/N's voice trembled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. 

"Does this look good?" she asked, her gaze searching Aurora's face for any hint of approval. Aurora's response carried a sense of curiosity, a hint of questioning as her voice lingered in the air. 

"Yeah, where are you going, though?" she inquired, her eyebrows arching with interest. Y/N's answer was accompanied by a shy smile, her words carrying a hint of vulnerability. 

"Uh, nothing major, just planning to spend some time with Granger in the library," she admitted, the casualness of her words belying the flutter of nerves beneath the surface. "Do you think she'd like this outfit?" Aurora's expression shifted, her brows knitting together in a faint frown. Her response held a mixture of grumbling and reluctant affirmation. 

"You look good in anything," she mumbled, a hint of frustration in her tone. The words seemed to escape her before she could fully contain them. Caught off guard by the unexpected reaction, Y/N's lips parted slightly, her gaze fixed on Aurora. 

"What?" she questioned, her voice carrying a blend of confusion and surprise, unsure if she had correctly heard the response. Aurora quickly backtracked, a tinge of embarrassment creeping into her demeanor. 

"Nothing. Yeah, I'm sure it's fine," she hastily reiterated, her words carrying a mixture of reassurance and apology. The moment lingered, both of them sharing an unspoken understanding that went beyond mere clothing choices and casual conversations.

"Oh, well, okay," Y/N's voice murmured, carrying a hint of confusion. Her brows furrowed slightly as she processed the unexpected response, her thoughts caught in a fleeting moment of uncertainty. 

Focusing on the task at hand, she returned to her desk, organizing the scattered items with a sense of purpose. The question Y/N posed lifted the air, carrying a subtle shift in the conversation. 

"Anyways, when Christmas break rolls around, what do you plan on doing?" she inquired, her voice casual as she continued her organizing. Aurora's response held a touch of nonchalance, her shoulders giving a slight shrug as she shared her plans. 

"Well, probably just the norm, spend some time with mum and stuff," she replied, her words a reflection of the simplicity that often accompanied the holiday season. 

Standing up from her seat, she moved behind Y/N, her steps carrying an almost silent grace. The question that followed seemed genuinely curious. 

"What're you looking for?" Aurora inquired, her tone gentle as she peered at Y/N over her shoulder. Y/N turned to meet Aurora's gaze, her lips curving into a thoughtful smile. 

"Nothing, just fixing some stuff," she murmured, the explanation offered casually as her fingers continued their work. The shift in the conversation was subtle yet palpable as Aurora spoke up once more, her voice carrying a note of eagerness.

"By the way—" Her words flowed seamlessly, meeting Y/N's gaze as she hesitated for a brief moment. 

"Can I test out some of my make-up on you someday? I just bought some new products and I want to see if they look good," she admitted, her words filled with a mixture of excitement and hope.

Y/N's response was a mixture of curiosity and agreement. "Oh, uh sure. When?" she inquired, her voice open to the idea. Aurora's suggestion was met with a contemplative pause from Y/N, her lips parting slightly before a nod of reluctant assent followed. 

"Anytime. How about now? I'll just make it quick, place a little bit of mascara and lipstick, yeah?" Aurora proposed, her words carrying an air of spontaneity.

Y/N's hesitation was short-lived, a moment of internal deliberation that yielded to Aurora's enthusiasm. With a hesitant yet affirmative nod, Y/N agreed, allowing herself to be swept into Aurora's idea.

"Stay still," Aurora's voice murmured, a gentle command that carried a touch of reassurance. The room was bathed in a soft, warm glow, the air heavy with anticipation as Aurora carefully guided Y/N to the chair, the fabric of its seat cool against her skin.

Y/N's heart danced with a fleeting excitement, a fluttering sensation that resonated deep within her chest. Aurora's presence, so close and focused, added an undercurrent of energy to the moment. As Aurora's hands cradled her cheek, Y/N's breath seemed to catch in her throat.

The soft sound of a pop emanated from the small pouch, heralding the arrival of the peach-tinted lipstick case. The sensation that followed was unexpectedly cold as the lipstick met her lips, a shiver tracing its path down her spine.

Amidst the hushed ambiance, a tense yet poignant silence enveloped them, their heartbeats aligning in a quiet rhythm that seemed to echo through the room, a cadence of shared vulnerability and unspoken emotions.

"Purse your lips," Aurora's voice broke through the stillness, an instruction that carried a gentle authority. 

Y/N complied, her lips forming a delicate pout as she followed Aurora's guidance. The act held a sense of intimacy, a moment of connection that went beyond the mundane task at hand. And then, Aurora's voice, like a soft whisper, pierced the air. 

"It looks good, peach is your color," she murmured, her words a gift of affirmation that painted a soft smile across Y/N's lips.

The blush that graced Y/N's cheeks was a delicate flush of emotion, a testament to the shared experience that was etching its memory upon their friendship. With a small, appreciative nod, Y/N's gaze met Aurora's, a silent acknowledgment that held more than words could convey.

TO BE CONTINUED...

(A/N : dont kill me please)