┏ ೋღ : 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂. ೋღ ┓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓;
𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔰

┗━━ ೋღ : ©-fictophilic : ೋღ ━━━┛

𝕾ILENCE LINGERED IN THE DIMLY LIT POTIONS CLASSROOM. With a frustrated, yet quiet, drop of your bag, you found yourself begrudgingly seated in the very place you did not want to be on a weekday afternoon.

This was your first-ever detention.

You were a child brought up in a household that only valued success and discipline.

Do you think you'd be brave enough to go against your parents' wishes and get into trouble at least once in your life?

Hell, you could barely even handle confrontation.

Entering the classroom soon after, Mattheo let out an exasperated sigh and trudged toward the opposite side of the room. The bag from his shoulder dropped onto the floor loudly and the horrific screeching of the wooden chair being dragged filled the air. He sat down without so much as a glance or word.

The door leading into Snape's office opened and the Potions Professor stepped out, closing the wooden door behind him. His lips were tugged down into his usual scowl and his eyes darted between you and the boy who sat on the other side.

"It seems you two at least had the dignity to show up," Snape drawled out slowly with his feet planted at the front of the classroom. He gestured them forward with a wave of his hand. "Come up and I'll hand you your detention tasks."

You muffled a tired and frustrated sigh as you hesitantly stood up from your wooden seat. Mattheo followed and you two soon met in the middle, standing in front of your stern-looking professor.

With your gaze downcast, a parchment paper with a list inked on the page soon came into your narrow vision. Gingerly taking the paper into your hands, you feel the roughness of the page underneath the pads of your fingers. Mattheo's paper rustled next to you as he took his.

The inked words flew by in your vision as you skimmed over the long list.

Clean and scrub the cauldrons until they shine.

Refill all the potion ingredients.

Organize the collection of potion ingredients alphabetically and by size.

The list remained short, but the tasks were tedious and menial. You were, however, grateful to be in Ravenclaw, knowing fully well that if you were in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, your list of tasks would range between five to ten.

"I expect all these tasks to be done before supper," Snape informed monotonously with a hint of boredom. "Lest you want to come back tomorrow for another detention to finish the rest."

Without another word, Professor Snape spun on his heels and his robes blew out from behind him as dramatically as ever with a slight swish. He left to the quietness and privacy of his office, shutting the door behind him and leaving you and Mattheo to your tasks.

You and the Riddle boy instinctively exchanged looks of pure loathing. Mattheo rolled his eyes and you clenched your jaw before you both pivoted, marching toward the tasks at hand. You made a beeline for the cauldrons while Mattheo walked toward the shelf that held various potion bottles.

As you two began to work, the tension between you was palpable. You two worked in silence, barely even glancing at each other as you scrubbed cauldrons and he cataloged potion ingredients. The evening wore on and, soon, the silence became unbearable.

"Surprised you even showed up," Mattheo commented lowly, not even sparing you so much as a glance despite standing a mere few feet away. "Figured you'd be too afraid to even show your face in something like detention."

"Didn't want to get into more trouble," you answered shortly, scrubbing the dark steel cauldrons harshly — almost as harsh as your tone.

"You're acting like this is your first detention." Upon your lack of response, the boy simply scoffed with a slight shake of his head and he took note of the lack of dandelion root available in storage.

"Are you always such a stiff?" He inquired questioningly, almost not believing someone could never get in trouble. Hell, even Hermione got in trouble at times.

"A stiff?" You repeated incredulously, sending a slight glare to his back from over your shoulder. Before he could turn to catch your heated glare, you turned your attention back to the next cauldron that needed cleaning.

"Uh, yeah," he confirmed almost immediately with a sardonic tone. "You're too afraid to even get into the tiniest bit of trouble. Why are you even scared? All you get is detention."

The struggle to not roll your eyes was real and your tight grip on the side of the cauldron practically turned your knuckles white. Your voice came out strained through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. "Easy for you to say. You got us both in trouble."

"Come on, it's not that big of a deal. I was just having some fun," Mattheo retorted, the point of his quill digging deeper into the paper.

'Fun? I have to stay here with him because he wanted to have fun?'You internally questioned, tossing the dirtied rag to the side and moving on to your next task. "Do whatever you want. Just... don't drag me down with you next time."

"You're acting like I ruined your life or something," Mattheo remarked with a scoff. The tip of his quill soared across the piece of parchment as he took note of the storage.

With a roll of your eyes, you bit down the words that almost left your mouth. 'Well, let's see, you petrified my best friend, Ginny was hurt and prone to bullying after your Chamber of Secrets stunt, you got me stuck in detention because of your actions, and you're just simply a dick.'

Instead, you settled for fewer words, but still conveyed some of the same thoughts. "I'm just upset that I have to suffer the consequences of your actions."

Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Loosen up, Stiff. Sometimes you have to take risks to have fun."

"I don't think getting in trouble with the school is a risk worth taking," you murmured, thinking about how your parents would react to you getting in trouble and possibly jeopardizing your future for the sake of some momentary childish fun.

"Literally, who cares?" He deadpanned in your direction, though all he saw was your back.

You didn't answer, instead just figured that you'd ignore him for the sake of keeping yourself calm. You did not want to come back here again.

With your failure to respond, Mattheo peered over his shoulder and gazed at your back. He scoffed for the hundredth time in those ten minutes, and you regretted every minute — every second — you had ever spent talking to him.

Arriving about ten minutes early to Quidditch practice, you had previously promised to help Roger bring out the equipment to the pitch. With a bag in hand — one that contained the bludgers, bats, snitch, and quaffle — you couldn't help but notice how slightly lighter it felt, as if something inside was missing.

Your questions were soon answered when you found that the pitch was not, in fact, empty. Two figures flew above; one guarding the hoops while the other had the quaffle in their hand in an attempt to get a goal. The bright red of their uniforms caught your eye and you figured that some people from the Gryffindor team wanted to get in extra practice.

With a hand placed on your brows, you narrowed your eyes to try to figure out who they were specifically. It seemed you didn't need to though, as they soon ended their mini-practice upon the entrance of a few other Ravenclaw players.

The brooms underneath them flew down to the ground until they were close enough to place their feet safely onto the ground. Upon no longer being up in the air, and instead being closer, you could now distinguish who they were.

Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood.

"Oh, hey, (Y/n)," Angelina greeted as she was the first one to reach the ground and notice your presence. Upon noticing the case that you held, she glanced down at the quaffle she grasped in her hands before tossing it to you. Catching it effortlessly, you heard her ask, "Practice?"

"Yeah," you nodded curtly to accompany your answer, resting the case and the quaffle down on the ground. "Though, I'm a little too tired for it."

"I feel you," Angelina agreed. "But at least you don't have your captain dragging you out to the field simply because he wanted to run drills for himself." She nodded her head over her shoulder, gesturing to the general area where Oliver planted his feet onto the ground after landing his broom.

"Must suck," you commented sympathetically, tearing your eyes away from the Gryffindor captain as he started walking in your and Angelina's direction. "Is it always just you or does he ask the other chasers too?"

"Katie and Alicia get dragged out too, but today, it was my turn," the girl sighed out in exhaustion and exasperation. Oliver soon passed by, not sparing a glance in your guy's direction. Angelina gave you a curt nod before following behind him. "I'll see you in Charms, (Y/n)."

"See you," you responded, giving a small wave to her retreating figure. Your eyes were soon drawn to the white piece of parchment that stood out amongst the green grass of the pitch. With your curiosity getting the better of you, you ambled up to the white sheet and gingerly picked it up between your fingers.

Unfolding the simple creases of the paper, your eyes trailed over the drawing mapped out in ink. Quickly realizing what it was, you called out, "Wait, Angelina!"

The said girl stopped in her tracks and spun around on her heel. Speed walking over to her, your hand reached out and offered the paper back to her. "I think this is Wood's."

Amidst her confusion, she scanned the paper before nodding her head. "Yeah, yeah it is." She soon let out a small chuckle. "I don't think anyone outside of the team was supposed to see this."

The black ink on the paper drew out a game plan for the Gryffindor Quidditch team in their next game against Hufflepuff. With the line varying in thickness and splotches of ink being smeared across the lines, you figured the plan was drawn out in frustration or a hurry.

Still feeling slightly bad and guilty about your team's faulty win against Gryffindor, you said to her, "Tell him it won't work."

"Hm?" Angelina hummed with a slightly questioning tone.

"The plan," you explained, pushing down the feeling of regret you felt for helping them out with their game plan. "Tell him it won't work."

With a slow nod of her head, she turned back around to leave the pitch while the last of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team began to file in and you waited for practice to start.

As your team mounted their broomsticks and took to the air, everyone could feel the cool breeze blowing past and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Soon enough, Roger began by leading the team in a few warm-up laps around the pitch. He then shouted out some drills to get them in the mood for the day's practice.

"Alright, let's start with some passing drills." Roger then explained the drill before informing the beaters, keepers, and seekers of their drills. The reserve chasers followed Roger's instructions and followed the same drill you guys were doing.

Quickly getting into positions, you, Kyra, and Rogers passed the quaffle back and forth in a blur of blue and bronze. You moved around the pitch, dodging and weaving past each other, practicing your hand-eye coordination and the ability to react quickly in the heat of the game.

The beaters tossed two of the heavy bludgers into the air for their drills, and they took off after them, swinging their bats with precision. They batted the bludgers back and forth to each other, trying to keep them away from the rest of the team.

As the bludgers whizzed past them, the rest of the team had to be quick on their feet to dodge out of the way. Cho had to be particularly careful as she soared high above the others, keeping a sharp eye out for the elusive golden snitch.

Finally, it was time for a full-on scrimmage and Roger divided the team into two groups. Practice seemed to go on forever, but you still had fun as you watched Kyra almost fall off her broom then Cho almost falling off as well from laughing.

For the next hour, the two teams battled it out, soaring up and down the pitch, executing complex maneuvers and daring dives to score points and avoid collisions. It was a high-intensity, action-packed practice session, and at the end, you just seemed breathless.

As everyone landed back on the ground, sweating and out of breath, you practically collapsed into the grass the moment you stepped foot onto the ground. Everything you did in practice made you regret ever joining the sport despite loving it.

Kyra and Cho lay in the grass nearby, their greedy gasps for air being heard. Catching your breath, you called out to your best friend, "Hey, Kyra."

"Yeah?" She answered weakly from her place on the ground.

"Dean Thomas asked me if I wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him and his friends," you told her. Upon hearing the words fall from your mouth, she immediately sprung up from her position and raced toward you.

"He did what?" Kyra's eyes seemed to sparkle with interest and she appeared giddy at the newfound information. "Does he like you?"

"Blimey, no!" You didn't hesitate to shut down that thought. "Probably wants to be friends or something."

Kyra simply rolled her eyes and Cho let out a quiet chortle upon seeing Kyra's dissatisfaction.

"Can you come with? He said it'd be fine, and I don't wanna go alone." Your eyes practically pleaded the girl to agree.

With a begrudging sigh, she agreed, "Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't leave you alone to the wolves anyway."

You pumped your arms above you in victory, but soon decided that was a mistake when you felt the soreness shoot a wave of pain through your muscles.

Snow covered the narrow and crowded roads of Hogsmeade. Despite the cold and chilly winter air brushing against your face, you simply nuzzled yourself into the warmth of your layered clothing and mentally thanked yourself for what you chose to wear.

Beneath a baggy and blue, mid-sleeved sweatshirt was a thick, light gray hoodie that would've swallowed your hands if you didn't push them up to your wrists. Your gray sweatpants pooled around your ankles, your white sneakers keeping you from face-planting into the white snow.

"I can't believe that's what you chose to wear on your date with Dean," Kyra commented from beside you, donning her own layers of clothing.

"It's not a date," you scoffed with a slight eye roll. "We're just hanging out as friends, with friends. You're literally coming along, same with Seamus and Neville."

"You're as clueless as ever," Kyra sighed dramatically and you let out a quiet chuckle under your breath.

As you passed by one of the shops, Kyra paused in her tracks to gaze into the clear window. Her eyes flickered around the glass, taking in the kinds of things the shop sold. You stood beside her, waiting while you fidgeted with the drawstrings of your gray hoodie.

The surroundings of Hogsmeade noisily rang throughout the air, being as lively as ever, especially with the approaching holidays. Students clamored from shop to shop, attempting to find something to buy for their friends, family, or partners.

Your eyes mindlessly raked over everything, taking notice and note of everything. While the Sirius Black spotting was a little over a month ago and nothing else has been heard for weeks, it didn't stop you from being vigilant.

Whether that trait about you was good or bad remained unclear, but it did help with one thing — it helped you notice the weirdly appearing footsteps in the snow despite there being no one making them.

Footstep markings in the white snow appeared one after the other while nothing but air appeared above it.

Who was making those footsteps?

Thoughtlessly leaving your place from beside Kyra, your curiosity got the better of you and you slowly ambled toward the footsteps. The trail suddenly froze, the footsteps facing in your direction and stopping right in front of you.

The Potter boy, from beneath his invisibility cloak, watched as your brows furrowed in confusion. He swallowed thickly and prayed that you wouldn't catch him. The loud noise of Hogsmeade filtered in through your ears and Harry internally thanked the rowdy crowd for covering his loud breathing.

Soon, Harry felt his breath get caught in his throat with his eyes widening. You reached your hand out, unknowingly inching closer to him and his invisibility cloak.

Just before your hand could brush against the cloth of the cloak, a voice called out to you.

"Hey, (Y/n)!"

Glancing over your shoulder, you found Hermione jogging up to you with staggered breaths leaving her mouth. Fully turning around, you faced her with your brows furrowed in confusion. Harry took this moment to mentally thank Hermione before fleeing the scene.

"Oh, hey?" You muttered awkwardly, watching Hermione huff to catch her breath and momentarily forgetting about the mysterious footsteps. "Uhm, did you need something,