the runaway| h.p x reader au

𝟎𝟗| 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈

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'𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔢'

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[third person pov]

Y/n walked around the castle aimlessly. She didn't care where her legs took her, as long as she could be anti-social. The girl watched the rain patter against the windows. The castle was beautiful when you have the time to appreciate it.

Y/n sat in a small ledge, her shoulders hunched and neck craned to see view the castle. The rain began to die down for the fourth time that day.

The sun poked through the clouds glaring upon the thick cobblestone walls, leaving stark, vivid, shadows contrasting the bright reflections. The spiked shadows of the portcullis loom like the twisted teeth of a basilisk. The air acquires a musty damp smell.

Y/n yawned, a small huff of air leaving her parted lips. She walked outside before the rain could pick up again and sat softly on the lime green grass. Dew and rain drops soaked the blades. Yet she didn't care, it was quiet and peaceful.

Y/n hadn't taken the time to think about what had happened in a span three months. Before any pondering could take place, the weather shifted. Clouds darkened yet again, beckoning the rain back to the grounds of the castle.

The girl gave up and went back to the common room to sit by the crackling fire.

She reached the portrait hole, the fat lady swung open quite delicately revealing the warm and cozy interior.

Y/n sat on the broken-in couch, the common room empty due to the fact of it only being six in the morning. The common smelled greatly of firewood, cinnamon, and treacle tart.

"What are doing up so early?" Harry yawned, pulling his red and yellow striped quidditch sweater over his head. Y/n looked over, the reflection of fire danced in her eyes.

"Plotting your demise if you must know." Y/n's lips curled into a slight smirk.

"May I suggest a few ideas?" Harry grumbled, he tossed a Gryffindor colored pillow onto the floor and laid down.

"Poison? Orrr I could toss you in the black lake." Harry flipped her off from the ground. The girl picked up an old book; dust covered the pages and cover. Y/n continued her studies from where she left off the night before.

Harry asked her if she was coming to his quidditch match but her being new to magic sports, mispronounced it as 'qwich'. This led to Harry making fun of her mispronunciation for twelve minutes.

"Well I don't know what qwich is, but quidditch is a sport using brooms." Harry said cheekily. Hermione jogged down the stairs with an over-stuffed bag, breaking at the seams. Ron came down the shallow oaken stairs, still clad in his pajamas. Honestly not caring that he looked like a mess. The two had finally realized what it was like to be around them constantly bickering, Harry and y/n were always at each other's throats. Sometimes jokingly, sometimes not.

"Yeah pick on the orphan who just learned about magic a few months ago, real nice." Y/n pulled the orphan card, which she had only used a few times before yet Harry still said, "You can't just keep using the orphan card y/n."