"You're so insufferable, I hate you!" Hermione exclaimed, disdain filling her eyes.
"The feeling's mutual, you stupid... Muggle-born." Y/N retorted, Hermione's nose twitching out of frustration.
...
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Y/N and Harry navigated their brooms downward, the lush expanse of grass beneath them a testament to their agile maneuvers. The chorus of cheers emanated from the gathered students, their jubilation directed at Harry, who was seemingly basking in the triumph of having outpaced Y/N.
It was a scene of perceived victory, as the students extended their congratulations to Harry, their voices resonating with admiration. Harry held the Remembrall firmly within his grasp, a triumphant display as he waved it triumphantly in the air.
Amidst the cheering crowd, Y/N observed with arms crossed, her posture reflecting a sense of detached amusement. Draco's approach drew her attention, his presence at her side accompanied by a quizzical inquiry. "How'd you lose to that four-eyes?" Draco's question hung in the air, his arm slung over Y/N's shoulder met with a swift and dismissive push.
"I didn't," Y/N's retort was delivered with a deadpan expression, her response a mix of assertion and a tinge of exasperation. Draco's bemused expression remained, his confusion evident as he processed her words.
With a nonchalant shrug, Draco offered his response, his tone tinged with mild skepticism. "Sure, mate. Whatever you say." His words bore an air of light-hearted banter, a testament to their familiar dynamic.
The moment of casual exchange was disrupted by a voice that carried the weight of authority. "Harry Potter. Y/N Crimson." The voice was stern, demanding their attention, and both Harry and Y/N shifted their focus toward the source. Professor McGonagall's gaze held a gravity that cut through the celebratory atmosphere.
Y/N's gaze locked onto McGonagall's, her eyebrows slightly furrowing in a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. She exchanged a glance with Harry, their unspoken exchange a reflection of their shared bewilderment. "Professor?" Y/N's voice held a note of inquiry, a mixture of respect and genuine curiosity evident in her tone.
The professor's response was succinct and direct, carrying a sense of purpose. "Follow me. Both of you." McGonagall's command left little room for negotiation, her expectation of compliance clear in her authoritative demeanor.
"Never — in all my time at Hogwarts," McGonagall's words hung in the air, her voice laden with a mix of astonishment and disbelief.
Her sentence trailed off, leaving her momentarily speechless as her glasses seemed to flash in tandem with the intensity of her emotions. The gravity of the situation had clearly taken her aback.
Amidst the charged atmosphere, Parvati's voice interjected, an attempt to clarify and explain the situation. "It wasn't Harry's fault, Professor. It was Y/N and Malfoy that did it—" Her words carried a note of defense, an earnest effort to absolve Harry of any blame in the unfolding situation.
McGonagall's response was swift and commanding, her authority evident in the sternness of her words. "Be quiet, Miss Patil," her tone left no room for argument, the weight of her authority settling upon the scene.
