┏ ೋღ : 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂. ೋღ ┓

𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖘' 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗;
𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔎 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡

┗━━ ೋღ : ©-fictophilic : ೋღ ━━━┛

𝕿HE BACK OF HER HEAD — that was nearly all Dean ever saw of you throughout most of your second year. To be honest, he barely even noticed you in your first year.

Sitting at the table behind you in Charms all of his second year, Dean had no conclusive opinion about you. He didn't like or dislike you.

You were just kind of... there.

That was, until near the end of the second year, around early May, when the Charms' end-of-the-year project came around and they were partnered up with students not of their choosing — courtesy of Professor Flitwick.

Upon hearing his name called, followed by yours, his eyes were instantly drawn to the back of your head again — only to find that he was instead looking at you awkwardly smiling back at him.

"You're (Y/n), right?" Dean asked politely, smiling at you in a friendly manner.

With a wordless and silent nod, it was solidified. Without Dean's knowledge, his opinion about you would significantly lean one way — and it wasn't a bad thing.

It was quiet in the Hogwarts library, leaving only the gentle hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustle of pages being turned. In one area of the room, you sat with your nose buried in a textbook. Across from you, Dean effortlessly skimmed through the pages of his textbook.

After a few minutes, he looked up from his book and glanced at you from over the edge of the cover. You were deep in concentration, eyes fixed on your textbook. Dean cleared his throat softly and you looked up, surprised.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Dean chuckled lowly with a small, slightly amused smile.

Momentarily pausing your reading, you shook your head and let a soft, almost unnoticeable smile take over your face. "No worries."

"Have you figured out what to do the project on?" Dean inquired, spreading his open textbook across the surface of the wooden table. "I'm particularly keen on Tarantallegra, the Dancing Feet spell."

Glancing down at your own page of your book, you nodded. "Uhm, yeah. I'm good with that."

"Let's take notes then compare?" Dean suggested, shifting to grab his bag and rummage through it to find a notebook. You simply nodded, turning to a new page in your Charms notebook.

The afternoon orange sky shifted into darker tones, all the students quickly leaving before dark could come. No one wanted to find themselves petrified by the Hogwarts monster — or even possibly not be able to wake the next morning.

As the sun started to set outside, Dean began packing up his things into his leather bag. "It was nice talking to you, (Y/n). When should we meet next?"

You paused, momentarily gathering your thoughts and swiftly running your mind over your schedule. "Next week? Wednesday?"

Dean grinned and nodded. "Sounds good. See you in class tomorrow."

As he walked out of the library, Dean couldn't help but feel grateful for having you as his project partner. After many rants from Seamus about how he'd been stuck with Theodore Nott as a terrible partner, he felt glad that you weren't the same.

With your help, he felt confident that you two could do a great job on the Charms project together.

"So what were you thinking about doing for the second part of the project?" Dean inquired curiously. The Charms project came in two parts: the individual essay and the team project. The team project could be anything, ranging from a poster, to a model, to a presentation.

"Well, I haven't thought about it yet," you muttered honestly. "We should start thinking about that now, I suppose."

As you and Dean sat at a table in the library, you pulled your notebook out of your bag and began sketching out ideas for your project. Dean watched you work in amazement, marveling at your creative ideas and unique perspective.

'Well, she is a Ravenclaw,' Dean thought to himself. 'They've always got loads of ideas.'

"What about this one?" Dean suggested upon seeing one of your ideas scratched in ink on the paper of your notebook.

Peering down at your paper, your gaze landed on the word that Dean's finger laid upon. "Dancing chair?????" You had put so many question marks next to that idea that the punctuation severely outnumbered the words.

"Oh, well, I was kind of just spewing ideas," you noted hesitantly. "I don't think it's truly any good..."

Dean shook his head, his brows slightly furrowed. "I disagree. I think it's a great idea. We can turn it in as some sort of model."

Biting the inside of your cheek, you slowly nodded. "I suppose so."

On a Monday afternoon in the library, the faint sound of pages turning and quills scratching on parchment filled the space. Among the rows of books, you and Dean sat at a table together, surrounded by stacks of books and papers.

Dean looked up from his notebook and dropped his quill into his inkwell. Stretching his arms above his head, he said, "I think we're making progress."

You nodded stiffly, flipping through the pages of a textbook. "Yeah. We've got a lot done already."

The short conversation had ended, leaving you and Dean in silence once more.

Glancing around, Dean tried finding something interesting to talk about — something to spark a conversation. If you and him were stuck as project partners for the next few weeks, might as well get to know each other.

"So, uhm, do you like music?" Dean asked unsurely and uneasily. With your attention on him, he gestured to the headphones that peeked out of your bag. "Muggle invention, that is."

Blinking owlishly, you swallowed down the awkwardness swelling in your throat before forcing a small smile while running a nervous hand through your hair. "...Yeah, I got it from my uncle. He's a muggle."

His eyes lit up and a bright, beaming smile graced his features. "Well then, I'm guessing you listen to muggle music as well?" Upon seeing you nod, he continued, "Favorite musician?"

With a shrug of your shoulders, you answered, "Can't say. There are loads of good ones."

"That's fair. How about you just name a few," he complied, nodding his head in agreement at your statement.

He listened to you as you listed off muggle singers and bands, occasionally and excitedly agreeing upon hearing some of his favorites.

Elton John.

Prince.

Dire Straits.

Tears for Fears.

The Police.

KISS.

Rick James.

He had never heard of someone else speaking so joyfully about these musicians at Hogwarts. Sure, Seamus was a half-blood, but he had never been one to be such an avid listener of muggle music.

You had rambled about muggle music like it was the greatest thing in the world, a bright and beaming smile spread across your features — a smile that he later concluded that he liked.

Heck, he was sure you listened to more muggle music than he did.

The students in the Charms classroom chatted wildly as they worked together with their partners on their projects. Dean chortled under his breath upon seeing Seamus' frown when he got up from his seat and moved to sit next to his project partner.

With you sitting at the table just in front of him, you simply stood up and twisted your chair around before setting yourself back down on the seat.

"I've finished my essay," Dean commented once you had sat down, the buzzing of the student chatter slightly covering his voice.

You nodded, resting your elbows on the desk's wooden surface. "I have as well."

"Would you mind if I compared mine to yours?" He asked, gently pulling a piece of parchment paper from his bag. You simply shook your head and dug through your bag to retrieve your essay.

The paper spread across the desk and Dean set his down next to yours. His eyes quickly skimmed over your handwriting as he read the words you wrote down in black ink.

"Your essay is really good," Dean complimented mindlessly as he read, now feeling self-conscious of his own writing. "Do you think you could help me with mine? After reading yours, I have the urge to entirely redo mine..."

It honestly impressed him how organized and structured your essay was. It was very logical, precise, and specific, which compared differently to his essay that digressed, held biased opinions, and was very obviously written by a student.

"Oh, uhm, I'm sure yours isn't bad," you uttered as you nervously fixed your hair, pushing down the feeling of pride in academic validation.

A deadpan expression appeared on Dean's face, causing a small chuckle to emit from your mouth.

He smiled upon hearing your laughter ring.

Dean stood in the stands of the Gryffindors, watching intently as you soared through the air as a chaser for the Ravenclaw team. Your uniform blew out wildly behind you as you darted around the other players, dodging bludgers and passing the quaffle with ease.

He couldn't help but admire your skill and grace on the broom. He had always been impressed by your abilities as an intelligent student, but watching you play Quidditch, Dean realized just how much he had been missing out on by not paying closer attention to you on the pitch.

As you made a spectacular shot and scored another goal for Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff, Dean let out a joyous cheer along with the Ravenclaws, some Slytherins, and some other Gryffindors. He had always known that you were talented intellectually, but seeing you in action like this made him feel almost giddy with admiration.

As the game continued, Dean found himself cheering loudly for you every time you made a move. He could see the fierce determination in your eyes as you flew around the pitch, your focus unwavering even in the face of the opposing team's bludgers.

When the final whistle blew and Ravenclaw emerged victorious, Dean couldn't help but let out loud cheers as he watched one of your teammates — Kyra — tackle you in a ginormous hug. You let out a squeal and a large, victorious grin took over your face.

The tree trunk felt rough and uncomfortable against your back, but you couldn't force yourself to move. The grass stayed in your unmoving vision, the sharp blades of green being all your could see.

Staring down at the ground, your frown deepened as your mind carried your many thoughts, like a string of leaves in the blowing autumn wind. You were so lost in your own mind that you had failed to notice the figure that sat himself down next to you.

The silence was deafening, the rustling of the tree leaves being heard to fill the gaps. After a few moments, you finally noticed the boy sitting next to you, but you hadn't bothered to look at him.

"I heard about Murray," Dean spoke quietly, as if he was afraid that he might scare you off. "I'm sorry. I know you guys are friends."

A slow nod was all he received before you let your head thump against the tough tree bark and lulled it to the side tiredly. You crossed your arms, finally moving your gaze to somewhere other than the ground — the bright blue, clouded spring sky.

"...It's okay," you mumbled quietly, not noticing Dean's trained and focused eyes that were stuck on your saddened expression. Despite your words, he could practically feel your worry and concern. "It's not like she's dead. Madam Pomfrey says she'll be awake soon enough, along with everyone else."

"But it doesn't mean it's okay," Dean mentioned, voicing the thoughts you buried deep in the back of your mind.

You opened your mouth to reply, but you couldn't find any words to say — no matter how hard you tried — so, in the end, your lips closed and formed a tight line.

With your lack of response, he frowned upon seeing the way the corners turned downward, replacing the smile that he had — oddly enough — grown to love.

The jacket he wore rustled slightly as he stood up, offering you a hand. Gazing up at him questioningly, he shrugged and smiled. "It's no fun being sad, don't you think? Let's do something else. Get your mind off of things."

His concern caused you to bite back a growing smile and you took his hand into your own. The strength he needed to haul you up to your feet wasn't much as you practically jumped up onto your feet on your own.

"What did you have in mind?" You questioned, dusting yourself off of dirt as you stood up.

"Well, we still have to enchant that chair to dance, don't we?" Dean inquired, the underlying meaning of his words loud and clear to you. 

An amused chuckle left through your parted lips and you nodded. "Yeah, I suppose we do."

The classroom was filled with the sound of quills scratching against parchment paper and the occasional cough or rustle of a notebook.

At the front of the room, Professor Flitwick droned on about how the project went and how proud he was of all of you. You and Dean had gotten an 'O', to which you both shared a smile.

Despite Flitwick talking, Dean found that his attention was focused on the girl sitting in front of him — or, more specifically, the back of her head.

Now that the project was over, you never bothered to talk to him.

It wasn't a him problem, it was a you problem.

You thought he didn't want to bother talking to you now that he didn't have to.

Unbeknownst to you, it had been quite the opposite.

Dean liked talking to you.

He liked the endless conversations of muggle music.

He liked the way you fixed your hair nervously whenever you spoke.

He liked the way you smiled — the smile being small and soft, delicate and fragile as if it were a rare gem that he needed to protect at all costs.

He liked you.

And he just wished that he had paid more attention to you sooner.

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‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

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[ author's note ]

i just noticed how completely wack the timeline of the poa movie is compared to the books.

in the movie, lupin resigns then harry gets his firebolt and it's said that "it's sure to help gryffindor win the cup", meaning the next quidditch matches (ie gryffindor vs ravenclaw or gryffindor vs slytherin) haven't happened yet. in the books, he gets his firebolt, he uses it to win the last two quidditch matches, then lupin resigns.

so technically, in the movie, lupin resign hella early in the year. since i've already written the plot too far along the movie plot, that's just what i'll do later on and have lupin resign super early in the year.

that means the movie plot is going to end around february in this story and then there'll be a bunch of "filler-ish"chapters to finish off the third year before GOF.

that doesn't mean the "filler-ish" chapters are going to be boring. if anything, there's more drama in the last half of the school year compared to the first half.