𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 5࿐⋆valentine's day makes me feel single⋆

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❝Will you come to Hogsmeade with me?❞

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❝Will you come to Hogsmeade with me?❞

✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧*:・゚✧

Harry spent most of the next day dreading the evening. His morning double-Potions lesson did nothing to dispel his trepidation, as Snape was as unpleasant as ever.

By six o'clock that evening, Harry gloomily said his goodbyes to Y/N, Ron, and Hermione. But before he could move to Snape's office, Y/N pulled him aside.

"It'll be okay, darling," she said soothingly. "If he gives you a hard time, just kick him in the back and run away."

Harry still looked mortified. So Y/N leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss on his lips as Harry kissed her back quite eagerly. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to stay with her all day. Snape be damned, she was the only thing that mattered in this stupid world. As long as she was kissing him, he'd happily let the rest of the universe carry on without them.

But soon, reality came crashing down on Harry when Y/N pulled away from him. He stood there for a minute, registering what happened, blushing red, and walked off to Snape's office with a bit of a smile on his face.

When Y/N strolled off to the common room with Ron and Hermione, she saw Rigel, Draco, and their Slytherin gang on the opposite side.

Rigel was looking furious, as though one of his evil plans had flopped. Draco was looking anywhere but Y/N, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"At least he's sober now," Ron snorted, nodding in his direction.

Y/N didn't laugh or smile. She was sure Rigel had something to do with the misunderstanding between her and Harry, but she couldn't prove it.

Ron, Hermione, and Y/N spent the next two hours in the library where they were working on Umbridge's most recent ream of homework. Other students, nearly all of them fifth-years, sat at lamp-lit tables nearby, noses close to books, quills scratching feverishly, while the sky outside the mulhoned windows grew steadily blacker.

Harry turned up after another half an hour, sweating and panting. He was very white and his scar seemed to be showing up more clearly than usual.

"How did it go?" Hermione whispered.

"You look like you've seen a dementor," said Y/N, holding his shaking hand, looking concerned. "Are you alright, love?"

"Yeah. . . fine. . . I dunno," said Harry impatiently, wincing as pain shot through his scar. "Listen. . . I've just realised something-"

And he told them what he had just seen and deduced in Snape's office. Apparently, he'd been having dreams about a certain corridor, which was leading to the Department of Mysterious in the Ministry.

"So. . . so are you saying. . ." whispered Ron, as Madam Pince swept past, squeaking slightly, "that the weapon- the thing You-Know-Who's after- is in the Ministry of Magic?"

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