ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ,
Stories with you and your favourite Harry Potter characters cause we all know we have one or more Harry Potter characters we're hopelessly in love with. I wrote the first few ones when I was bored AKA when I was...
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Requested by REGULUSLOVEBOT. OKAY, THIS MAN IS SO FINE- LIKE H O W?
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There were two kinds of mornings for me. One kind when I woke up late and the other when I woke up really late. This was one of the mornings I woke up really late.
"Shit-" I cursed, tumbling out of bed, grabbing my books. I ran out of my dormitory in a hurry, fixing my yellow robes on the way. I didn't stop until I was right outside the Defence against Dark Arts classroom. Pausing to catch my breath, I slowly pushed the door open to enter silently.
Unfortunately for me, the door creaked open, causing all of the students to look at me.
"Ms. L/n, nice of you to finally show up," the professor said, his voice cold.
"I'm really sorry sir, it won't happen again," I said, trying to sound polite.
"You will have detention for the next whole week. 9 o'clock, every night, Ms. L/n. Don't be late next time."
"Yes professor," I said, turning to take my seat.
"Take a seat in the front, Ms. L/n."
I groaned inwardly after having scanned the first row with my eyes, the only empty seat was the one next to Tom Riddle. Not that I had a personal problem with him, it was just that he was one of those people who believed in the stupid house prejudices. Other than that, he was pretty much perfect- perfect grades, head boy, charming. Not to mention that perfect face.
I sat down beside him, cursing myself for getting the detentions after having promised myself not to. I opened my book, trying to find what page the class was on, still cursing myself, not realizing that I was cursing outwardly.
I heard a low chuckle and turned to my left to see Riddle looking at me, amusement flashing in his dark eyes.
"What?" I asked, whispering.
"Nothing," he replied," We're on page 394." I looked at him, scanning his expression. Why exactly was he talking to me, a Hufflepuff, a house he hated on so openly?
"Oh okay... Thanks," I said, turning my pages.
"Anything for a pretty girl," he said, winking.
I blinked. Did I just get called pretty by Tom Riddle?
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"Miss L/n," called the professor, making me turn towards her.
"Yes, professor?"
She then proceeded to criticize my essay for a good fifteen minutes. I sighed inside, waiting for her monologue to end so I could go have dinner already. After she was finally done, I breathed a sigh of relief, almost running out of the class.
