Sigh, Teenagers | Harry Potter various x Reader

Bets

        "What're you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? Don't suppose you know how to read do you?" the girl blurted. Damn. Of course her loud mouth just had to insult her partner right after leaving him in the dust just last week! "Romeo and Juliet, by William Shakespeare," she answered quietly as she angled her reading material to display the worn cover.

"Never heard of it. Must not be a very good writer," muttered Malfoy, striding to the dusty table.

"I don't think he's very well known among purebloods and wizards."

"Why not?"

Y/N knew where the conversation was leading. No way in Azkaban would Draco Malfoy, the epitome of a pureblood supremacist, sit and listen to some half-blood fawn over a muggle book. She stuck a bookmark onto her page and shut it gently. This edition was the first and last copy to ever grace the Hogwarts library and mustn't be damaged at all costs. To Y/N at least. If a boy like Draco Malfoy ever got their hands on a copy this precious, there would be a significantly less amount of muggle literature in the library.

"Because he's not popular," she lied, finding her hand around the nape of her neck again in that nervous habit of hers. The girl realized her eyes had been darting in every other direction except in Malfoy's. Somehow she'd broken rule one of lying: make eye contact. What a horrible liar Y/N was. "Right anyways, we can't exactly brew in the library or Madam Pince will tear the mickey out of us. Have you got any ideas?"

"Fourth floor, third classroom to the left. No one uses it," Malfoy stated.

"I don't think we should go there.."

"I don't take advice from half-breeds," he retorted. Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line and furrowed her brows. Well alright then. If Malfoy wanted to play that game, then she had plenty of time to spare.

"Fine, I need to get my cauldron and ingredients though," she asserted.

"Five minutes. Don't be late."

Of course the prick was being completely unreasonable again. Five minutes to sprint down one corridor, then up several flights of stairs, then grab her supplies and cauldron and then sprint back down three flights of stairs. Why couldn't she ever walk for once? Stupid Malfoy.

In an obvious hurry, Y/N snatched her textbooks and dashed out of the library with nothing but a scolding librarian to bid her goodbye. An array of curses left the girl's mouth as she scurried down the mostly empty hallways and up the grand staircase.

The girl nearly gave the Fat Lady a heart attack when her body tumbled to a halt a mere inch away from the painting. The lady's loud outcry was overshadowed by the huffing and puffing that escaped from the young girl's chapped lips.

"Wattlebird," Y/N wheezed, wondering if her lungs would ever be the same again.

The young L/N was ever so grateful when the portrait swung open, and promptly ignored the fat lady's reminder against running in the halls. The common room with its seemingly never-ending fire was much too warm for Y/N's liking. With one arm, the girl shrugged off her school robes as she hurried past her fellow students.

In a jiffy, the winded girl was scrounging through her room in search of her supplies. "Peppermint, lavender..." she muttered under her short breaths, recounting the items. Then they were hastily shoved into her book bag along with her textbooks, notes, and...She was missing something.

What was it? Something she had earlier. Y/N swore it was in her hands. Something hard. Oh no, oh no, oh no no no! Her book! Oh gosh. Oh, Merlin! It was in the library still. But how much time did she have left? A minute or so?