𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── ʜ.ᴊ.ᴘ

06: 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌.

❥❥❥

𝗏𝗂. 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌

"Can never do anything right, can you?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Click . . . Click . . . Click

The sound of her shoes echoed throughout the hallway combined with the sound of laughter and excited conversations amongst students. She glanced enviously at them, jealous about the fact that they were finally free from lessons while she had to suffer in detention with her greasy-haired Professor and her least favourite person at Hogwarts, Harry Fucking Potter.

"Maybe if you didn't call him that, you wouldn't have landed yourself in detention," said Daphne, who walked alongside her.

"I've always wanted to call him that anyways," shrugged Y/n. "I mean, do you think he ever washes his hair?"

Daphne just shook her head silently.

Eventually, they have made it outside Snape's office in the dungeons. Daphne waved Y/n goodbye before continuing to walk down the hall, to the Slytherin Common Room.

Y/n stared at the door in front of her for a good few seconds before holding onto the doorknob, twisting it open. She walked in and saw that she was the first one to detention. Snape sat at his desk.

"Ah, Lovewright," said Sanpe, not even looking up from the papers he was sorting out. The office of the now Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor was as unpleasant as she could remember. It was as dimly lit as ever and the same slimy dead objects were suspended in coloured potions all around the walls.

"For yours and Potter's detention, I would like the two of you to sort out the ingredients over there --" he raised a finger to point to a shelf on Y/n's right. "--into the correct jars. And while you and Potter do that, I will be taking these papers back to Professor Dumbledore. You are not to use magic or wear any kind of gloves as you do so."

As Y/n walked over to the shelf, the door creaked open once again. Harry Potter stood behind it, face red as he panted; it seemed as if he ran from the Gryffindor Tower all the way to the dungeons.

"Potter," said Snape. "How nice of you to join us. You'll be helping Lovewright sort out the ingredients into their rightful jars."

He stood up from his desk and made his way to the door, his black robes flowing behind him. "I will be back in an hour. No magic, any sort of protection and no messing around." his cold eyes fell on Y/n. "Especially you, Lovewright, with that attitude of yours."

Y/n was about to snap back but decided to keep her mouth sealed, not wanting to end up in another torturous detention.

Snape slammed the door shut behind him, causing the room to shake slightly. Y/n shook her head, turning back around to face the shelf. She picked up jars and placed them carefully onto a nearby table. She looked at Harry, who stood quietly across the room.

"Are you going to help me, Potter, or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" she asked as she picked up more jars.

Harry snapped out of his daze and began to walk towards where Y/n was.

"You sort out the bottom row while I sort out the top," said Y/n, taking a spider's leg out from the unicorn hair jar, and placing it back in a jar where all the spider legs were.