Pitiful Memories (Yandere H.P Various x Reader)

(1 : 8) The Three-Headed Dog { 8 }

┍━━━☽【❖】☾━━━┑

.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛❶↝𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛①⑦˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎-𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚘𝚐

┕━━━☽【❖】☾━━━┙

•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. ˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩

✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮

.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇

●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘

╔ ------------------------------------ ╗

❝𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.❞

╚ ------------------------------------ ╝

Returning from classes after a long day of being squeezed to death by Snape, we spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made everyone groan. 

Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday -- and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

Mail had arrived early that day. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets, gifts, and such from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. 

He'd receive sweets and quills and everything else a spoiled rich pureblood kid would want. 

He hid away half the things his mother would send him and would try to catch me later during the day to gift it to me.

Obviously, I always said yes. Harry had always found it weird when I randomly came to him with a bag of handmade magic sweets. He'd ask me where I got them whenever I shared them with him.

Ron, on the other hand, ate away, not asking any questions, while Hermione knew exactly where they came from, which is exactly why she refused them each time. 

She knew if Draco were to find out that a muggle-born was eating the sweets he brought for someone, he'd throw a massive fit.

I, on the other hand, hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. 

Maybe that was why he was constantly gifting me things he asked his mother to send him. 

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed us a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things -- this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this, and if it turns red -- oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "You've forgotten something..." 

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for our first flying lesson.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. 

Our teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. Her eyes spotted me and suddenly, they were full with a look of admiration.