Potters (Hermione x Male Reader)

Whispers in the Walls

Y/N was currently busy scrubbing the walls of the potion classroom. Somehow, a first year had managed to blow up their cauldron whilst making a simple Pepperup Potion. He had already been there for an hour and it looked as if the potion had stained the walls a slimy purple.

Every now and then, Snape would peek his head in through the door to check whether or not Y/N had decided to take a break or not. It was because of this that Y/N was still there, he didn't want to risk using magic at the same time Snape popped his head through the door. Even when he would leave he would look again a second later to check if Y/N was following the rules.

It has been two hours into the detention, it felt like more for Y/N who was still scrubbing away. Eventually, Y/N gave up at his task and whipped out his wand, he would face the consequences when they came, at least they would save him from a dead arm.

He went to cast 'Scourgify' when the door creaked open. Snape's face emerged from around the corner with a smug expression. Y/N's eyes widened as he realised the position he was in, wand raised and stood in casting stance.

"Heyyy," Y/N tried to play off. "Professor Snape... How you doin'?"

Snape raised his eyebrows at Y/N.  "Explain."

"Well, you see... I... I... I spotted one of Lockhart's missing pixies! It just got away when you came in!"

"Where would it have gone?" Snape questioned. "We are underground, Mr Potter."

"Err... It must be hiding in one of these shelves!"

"Then you will search for it. Once found, you may leave."

Snape left with the closest thing to a smile Y/N had ever seen. He knew he was lying, and now Y/N was trapped down there until an actual Cornish Pixie made it's way in. Y/N really didn't think this one through...

Elsewhere, Hermione had arrived at the Transfiguration classroom to find Professor McGonagall waiting for her.

"Come in, Miss Granger. Today you shall be helping me transfigure everything you see here, back to their original state using the spell, Reparifarge."

"Dont you think that's a bit easy? I mean considering what the others are doing?" Hermione asked with scrunched up eyebrows.

"Well, yes, I do. But I didn't want to overwork my prized student."

"I'm your prized student?!" Hermione cheered giddily.

"You and one other..."

"Let me guess, Y/N?"

"I know how much you would like that, but no."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, dear. How shall I put this... I've seen you be in lo- no enraptured... smitten, enamoured even with young Mr Potter from the very moment you set foot in this castle."

Hermione blushed. Was she really like that? She hadn't really thought about it.

"Is it really that obvious?" Hermione asked.

"To all, but he."

"How do I get him to notice?"

"Before I start, I must ask. Have your parents given you... the talk, as of yet?"

"No, I don't think so... unless you mean the talk we had about Magic over the summer, then yes."

"Oh dear... your parents should really be the ones to tell you this, but..."

The duo soon began returning the objects to their original state, while Hermione listened intently to Professor McGonagall explain what teenagers were fond of doing. Hermione had lost count of how many questions she asked, words she stuttered over, and perverse images of Y/N that had crossed her mind as McGonagall kept talking.