┏ ೋღ : 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂. ೋღ ┓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊;
𝔭𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔭𝔞𝔩𝔪 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰

┗━━ ೋღ : ©-fictophilic : ೋღ ━━━┛

"𝕯URO," you muttered, waving your wand in the form of the letter 'D'. The apple that laid on your desk slowly turned to a grayish tone, slight craters forming in the apple-shaped rock.

Standing at the front of the classroom, McGonagall watched her students practice and perform the hardening charm on their apples.

The windows welcomed in the dull winter sunlight that shined and glistened upon the rows of wooden desks. With bags and books scattered across the marble floors near the legs of the tables, students chattered amongst themselves while practicing the spell.

The Transfiguration classroom was quite lively as Professor McGonagall let everyone practice the hardening charm for the moment before moving on with the lesson

Some students struggled with the spell, however, like Lavender, who was regularly seated next to you in Transfiguration.

"Oh Merlin, I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," Lavender grumbled to herself. Out of the corner of your eye, you sense her glance over to your stone apple and you act as if you didn't notice.

Lavender Brown was a kind and extroverted girl, often making small talk with you as you always sat next to each other in Transfiguration, but conversation almost never went outside of small talk and Transfiguration questions.

You were a quiet and shy girl, often closed off and only really answered in short, blunt sentences. Lavender thought nothing ill of you, finding your awkward shyness a little amusing. Despite your reserve, she never hesitated to ask you questions.

Acting as if you were spaced out, you twirled your wand between your fingers and waited for Professor McGonagall to proceed with the lesson.

"(Y/n)," Lavender called out from beside you. You blinked and glanced up at her curiously. "Could you help me out with the spell? I can't seem to get it..."

Gaping for a moment to collect your thoughts, you wordlessly nodded before saying, "Can you show me what you were doing before?"

Nodding her head, Lavender turned her attention back to the apple that laid in front of her on the desk. With a swish and a flick, she uttered the word of the spell, "Duro."

The red apple stood still on the edge of the desk, remaining the same as it had always been.

"The hand motion," you pointed out shortly. Upon seeing her confused expression, you explained, "You're starting at the top, but you have to start at the bottom."

"Like this?" Lavender traced her finger on the surface of the table, marking an invisible letter 'D'. You nodded in confirmation and she grinned, raising her wand once more.

Aiming her wand at the apple, she waved her wand and muttered the word, "Duro." 

The formerly red apple dulled over in a grayish hue, stiffening as it slowly turned into stone. Lavender beamed in accomplishment, snapping her head around to grin at you. "Thanks, (Y/n). I can't believe I missed something so stupid."

"It's fine," you replied, slowly nodding your head with a small, kind smile. "Happens to the best of us."

Sitting in Professor Binns' History of Magic class, you flipped through the pages of your textbook. Being ridiculously bored, you had started reading ahead.

Kyra and Alana muttered lowly to each other while Binns droned on and other students in the class forced themselves to stay awake — if they hadn't fallen asleep already.

As you flipped through the pages, you felt someone peer over your shoulder to gaze down at your page of the textbook. Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes connect with Seamus', who backed up slightly from being caught.

You thought Seamus was cool, the encounter with him in the kitchen — the one before the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch match — having broken down some of the walls you had put up. Albeit you wouldn't quite call him a friend yet, he was definitely someone you'd be okay talking with.

"Hey," Seamus greeted quietly, leaning over to peek at your book once more. "What are you reading?"

Raising a brow, you replied simply, "The textbook."

Seamus chuckled and slightly rolled his pale blue eyes. "I can see that, but what chapter?"

Gaping stupidly, you swallowed down the wave of embarrassment that washed over you. "Chapter... 37, I think? We aren't supposed to be learning this until next year..."

He raised his brows in surprise and grinned before nodding his head. "Oh, the Goblin Rebellion? Honestly, it's interesting stuff."

Pausing a bit, you hesitated before inquiring quietly, "Have you read ahead?" You tried your best to avoid getting caught talking during Binns' lesson.

"Maybe a little bit. Binns' lectures are a bit... too boring for my liking." Seamus grinned and whispered the last part of his sentence as quietly as he could to avoid Binns from hearing his insult.

With a nod of your head, you agreed with a tired grumble, "I know what you mean."

"But honestly, the Goblin Rebellion? Very interesting, and that's coming from me. I can't wait to learn about it next year," Seamus commented, adding a small and quiet chuckle at the end. "Who knew the 1890s had to deal with that sort of thing? You'd think it'd be mentioned more often."

"Exactly. It seems almost as important as the Wizarding War." Grinning, you nodded your head before ducking down to avoid Professor Binns' piercing gaze. A moment passed and Binns' lingering stare finally left your general direction.

"The leader... Ranrok, I think it was? I read that he had some sort of vendetta against a Hogwarts student because of the power of something and chosen one something something." You waved your hand dismissively and mumbled parts of your sentence as you had forgotten what the textbook had even said.

"Well, history does repeat itself," Seamus mentioned before casually nodding his head in Harry Potter's direction. Lifting the back of your hand to your mouth, you stifled a giggle. "It's always the chosen ones, ain't it?"

Nodding your head with a teasing and lopsided grin, you repeated his words in agreement, "Always the chosen ones."

Potions.

Oh, Potions.

You loved Potions.

Absolutely adored it.

Especially your dear ol' Potions partner, Mattheo Riddle — who you wanted so badly to suffocate and spend an eternity gasping for air, never quite dying yet never at peace.

He took annoying you in a different approach, now doing the entire assignment by himself and practically ignoring your existence.

While this may have been a plus, this is Snape's class. If the Professor saw you doing nothing and leaving his precious Slytherin student to do all the work, you'd get berated in front of the entire class, like Harry, or Hermione, or Ron, or Neville — or literally anyone who's not a Slytherin.

"...Would you like me to do something?" You asked the boy meekly, attempting to sidestep around him to peer into the cauldron.

He stepped into your view, blocking you from moving closer to the cauldron. "No, it's alright. I've got everything handled." He plastered a charming — and fake — smile onto his face and continued with the potion, not even bothering to glance at or read the textbook.

Flickering your eyes to Snape's bored figure, you catch him switching his attention to your general area before fixing an unamused stare at you doing nothing.

In a state of panic at Snape's scowl expression, you chuckled nervously and stated lowly, "Well... Uhm, it's just that you're not looking at the textbook."

"So?" He didn't even bother looking at you, instead dropping an ingredient into the cauldron — an ingredient you knew wasn't even included in the assigned potion.

Mattheo smirked at the bubbling potion and the scowl that Snape directed at you.

He knew what he was doing.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"So..." You subtly rolled your eyes and bit your tongue in an attempt to stop yourself from explicitly spewing obvious insults. "You might be doing it wrong."

"What? Don't trust me?" Mattheo inquired as if he were taunting you, his tone seeping with evident pride. "You know, I'm not always right, but I'm never wrong."

'Bitch, please.' You kept yourself from rolling your eyes for the hundredth time and you told him, "Well, it's not that I, uhm... don't trust you, but it'd make me feel more at ease if I knew that I would be helping you do it right..."

"I don't need help because I'm already the best at everything," he remarked arrogantly, dropping some daisy roots into the potion that bubbled in the dark and steely cauldron. "Are you underestimating me?"

You wanted so badly to dunk this prick's head into the cauldron, and possibly watch that smirk melt off his face. "No one's the best at everything," you noted, ignoring his question — something he noticed.

No answer is an answer, and he took that as you underestimating his intelligence.

"Well, I am," Mattheo retorted, simply sparing you a quick and arrogant glance over his shoulder before returning to brewing the potion.

Lorenzo and Draco stood at the cauldron in front of you and Mattheo. The blond bit his lip to muffle his bubbling entertained laughter while the brunette sent Mattheo an unamused glare.

Pansy and Daphne were at the cauldron on the right of Lorenzo and Draco, diagonal to you and Mattheo with Pansy glaring at Mattheo's stupid face. Daphne was completely focused on the task at hand and was completely unaware of what was going on — it wasn't as if she knew who you were anyway.

With the last ingredient dropped into the cauldron, Mattheo smirked and let out a quiet huff of laughter. The potion bubbled louder and louder while Snape sauntered over to the two of you, probably to ask why you were incompetently doing nothing.

Upon hearing the loud and obnoxious rumbling of the potion, you sidestepped Mattheo and nudged the boy out of the way.

You peered down into to cauldron to see the potion that was supposed to be light gray turn into a dark, forest green and bubble immensely. One of the large bubbles popped, letting out a sizzling noise with the slightest bit of steam — steam that smell unusual and disgusting, as if you took a skunk doused in rotten fish oil and put it into the boys' bathroom.

Students around froze in their movements before instantly slapping their hands over the lower half of their faces. Kids from farther away could hear the loud pops of the bubbles from your cauldron and stopped their brewing to look in your direction.

"Merlin..." You muttered lowly, gagging slightly at the smell. Taking a step back, you pulled the sleeve of your robes further down your hand. You buried the lower half of your face into your elbow, covering your nose from the foul stench that emitted from the cauldron. "What did you do...?"

Mattheo shrugged a shit-eating smirk displayed across his lips. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

As he walked closer to the two of you, Snape grimaced at the horrid smell before drawling out, "What... on Earth... is that?"

Your mouth parted dumbly like a blubbering fish, not quite knowing what to say. Before a word could even leave your mouth, the rumbling and bubbling of the potion grew louder until it exploded.

The contents of the cauldron sprayed up and out of the steely pot and landed on the closest person — Snape.

The surrounding students gasped, but you were too terrified to even move or make a single sound. Mattheo gaped, the corners of his lips turned upward with his mouth forming an amused smirk. He let out a scoff of laughter and covered his mouth before any more laughter could rupture.

"Ms. (L/n)," Snape called out to you, drawing your attention toward him and your lips remained zipped. The man ignored the thick green and smelly liquid that poured from his shoulders down his arm. "Detention."

Knitting your brows together, you gaped in distress and confusion. This wasn't your fault. It was that damned Riddle boy.

"Professor, with all due respect, it was all Mattheo. (Y/n) had nothing to do with it," Lorenzo piped up, earning an offended look from Mattheo. Lorenzo simply crossed his arms and shrugged, giving his friend an unapologetic smile.

Snape turned his attention toward the Riddle boy, a glare and scowl still plastered on the man's face. "Riddle, is that true?"

Mattheo shook his head violently, opening his mouth to speak. Before he could even get a word out, Pansy silently scoffed and spoke up, "It's true, Professor. We all saw it."

Redirecting his eyes to the surrounding students, Snape questioned, "Zabini, Nott? Malfoy, Greengrass?"

Daphne simply shrugged as she had no idea what was even going on. Blaise and Theodore caught sight of Pansy's intense glare and quickly concluded it'd be best to agree with her statement. Draco, being outnumbered and lowkey wanting to see his friend suffer, agreed as well.

"Well then..." Snape hesitated, giving himself a small nod before continuing, "I expect to see you in detention too, Riddle."

Students shuffled into the Divination classroom, which was adorned with crystal balls, tarot cards, and various other mystical objects. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the only light came from the flickering candles scattered around the room and the few but large windows.

Professor Trelawney was sitting at her usual table at the front of the classroom, staring off into the distance with a dreamy look on her face.

"Good afternoon, my dear students," Trelawney greeted in her ethereal voice, barely acknowledging their entrance as they took their seats. "Today, we shall be exploring the art of palm reading."

Everyone exchanged skeptical glances, Dean sharing a glance with you as he sat across from you at the rounded table. Trelawney stood up and gestured with her hands, "Now, if you please, one person show your partner your palms."

Some students hesitated before one partner from each pair placed their hands on the table, their palms facing upward. Dean was the one from your duo to comply, his palms visible to your view.

Cracking your textbook open, your eyes observed the creases of his palms and flickered to the pictures in your book. "Uhm... " You trailed off uneasily, letting out a breath. "I think your life line's long?"

"What does that mean?" Dean inquired, attempting to peer over into your textbook.

You deadpanned and teased, "It means you'll have a long life, genius."

Dean muttered a small "oh" and laughed.

"It also means you're energetic and vibrant, so congratulations," you joked, earning a chuckle. You continued your attempt at skimming through the paragraphs of text and comparing his palm lines to the images. "Hm... Money line, or fate line... Your money line's clear and straight, which means a good and lucky future."

"That matches up with the tea leaf reading," he commented.

"You have a short head line, indicating you have more chance of physical achievements than mental ones," you mentioned, slightly chuckling.

"I'm smart," Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes jokingly before adding in a few chuckles himself.

"I can't find your marriage line, so I'm just gonna skip that one," you told him. "Uh, let's see... Your heart line's strong too."

"My heart line?" Dean repeated, knitting his brows together. "Where's that?"

"Right here," you explained, pointing and tracing one of the creases in his palm — the one in the upper part of his palm and curved upward. "A strong heart line means you're a loving and compassionate person with a strong sense of empathy and care," you read off what the textbook was saying.

"Wow," Dean whistled in amusement. "What else does it say? What's my love life going to be like?"

"Hm..." You trailed off, skimming the paragraphs of black, printed words. "Your heart line's long, so it says you'll probably be a good lover."

"That's it?" Dean inquired. You shrugged and he took his palms off the table. "Well, okay then. Your turn."

Placing your hands on the table, you left your palms facing up while Dean cracked his book open and turned to the current chapter. 

His eyes flickered between your palms and the textbook. Every once in a while, he would take your hands into his to bring them closer and have a better look. "Okay, your life line... says that you easily get tired and exhausted."

You shrugged and hummed. "It's not wrong."

He chuckled and continued, "Your money, or fate, line says you're also going to have a good future."

Sighing with a nod, you said, "That's good. Won't have to worry much then."

"Your head line indicates that you're creative and intelligent, but may struggle with anxiety and stress," Dean commented. You gaped, a jokingly offended look taking over your features. "At least you're smart, yeah?"

'This stupid palm reading did not have to call me out like that,' you thought.

"Marriage line... Marriage line... Oh! You have high requirements when choosing a partner," Dean informed, reading off the textbook. You shrugged, finding the reading wasn't very far off. "Also says you may need to be careful of a love triangle."

"Pft, as if." You scoffed out a small chuckle.

"Then your heart line... It says that a happy love experience is predicted," Dean mentioned, catching the way your face pulled into a grimace. "What? Not fancying the idea of love?"

Chuckling and removing your hands from the table, you shook your head. "It's not that. It's just that I can't imagine myself in that situation."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Dean