Harry Potter x Reader Oneshots - All Generations

Harry Potter x Pauline

Requested by: pauline03r

(A/N Happy birthday to both Pauline, who requested this oneshot, and the book itself! This has been a wonderful year, with reaching almost 50K reads, 1k+ votes, and 500 comments. I really have enjoyed writing the 30+ parts in this book, from my own ideas to all the requests that you guys have put in. Thank you so much! This is just amazing!!)

Professor Snape spoke quietly to the class. His voice echoing against the cold underground walls in a slow, dark speech. Pauline stared down at her notepage, full of words and numbers that she couldn't retain. She read them over again, the words clear. She could spell each one, speak each one, recite the entire passage of writing, but it still didn't make sense. She sighed quietly and dropped the notebook on the desk. It made an echoing sound as it hit the table surface and Professor Snape tensed for a moment and looked over to her. His speaking continued, but his tone slowly became hostile and his voice loud. His eyes stretched open in an almost wild look, sending shivers down Pauline's spine. She kept her head lowered and eyes on Snape, her arms crossed over the notebook in an attempt to make it less noticeable.

He cleared his throat, sending one last look to her column of desks and retreating back to his podium to continue speaking. Pauline sunk back into her chair with a relieved sigh.

"Scary," She whispered to herself, rolling her eyes.

There was a quiet hum from beside her, and she could see across the aisle and Gryffindor boy of her year agreeing. He looked incredibly amused and nodded to himself, but then quickly looked away when he saw she was watching. She chuckled to herself and returned to scribbling notes on her page.

Snape continued lecture throughout the rest of the class period, but Pauline wasn't listening. She quietly scratched at the paper, leaving behind small traces and strokes of dark ink. The classroom was silent with only Snape's quiet speech and the scratching of quills to fill it. Even among the same mundane sound of quills on parchment, she felt hers were different. They were no louder, no quieter, no different of a pattern, but they seemed to matter more. She smiled contently as the loud ringing of the tower bell far above them, signaling the end of the class period. Her note page were now filled with not only words, but sketches of her favorite places and things. In one corner the Eiffel Tower in the city she'd always wanted to visit, in another a fox dashing in the snow, her patronus, and sprawled across the empty bottom half of the page was a rather unidentifiable drawing. She stayed in her seat as other students retreated from the classroom, staring at the drawing in wonder as she tried to figure out what she'd made.

"It's all gibberish," She said in frustration, slamming her notebook shut. She stood up and paused for a moment to shake her hand. Her muscles froze and pulled in uncomfortable ways. She stretched her hand out in different motions that seemed oddly natural.

"That was-" Pauline looked up to the interrupted voice to see Hermione. Harry and Ron stood behind her, loitering as they impatiently waited.

"Nevermind," Hermione shook the shocked look off her face and quickly retreated with Ron and Harry.

Pauline shook her head in confusion and slowly made her way out of the classroom. She followed behind the trio, only because they too were headed to the Gryffindor common room. She kept her distance, and they seemed happy to keep up a fast pace to even be ahead when waiting for a staircase to move. They looked to be talking quietly about something to themselves, Pauline imagined they were concocting another scheme for this years adventure. She couldn't imagine what they'd do next, after so much had already happened. But He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was not stopping, and it would seem the three weren't going to stop trying to stop him. Not that a couple of teenagers could do much after the entire adult Ministry Of Magic had been chasing him nonstop.