Harry Potter One-Shots

I Must Not Break Curfew (Harry Potter)

WORD COUNT: 1614

Next to me, Harry groaned in frustration, throwing down his quill to run his hands through his jet-black hair, making it messier than it already was. We were seated at a small table in the corner of the library, surrounded on all sides by stacks of Potions books and essays from earlier in the term.

"There's physically no way I'm going to get better than a D on this exam," he lamented, shoving his book away from him. O.W.L. stress was getting to all the students in our year, even the Chosen One. After his conversation with McGonagall and Umbridge, Harry was feeling the added stress of exams in regard to his future career as an Auror. Knowing him, he was just doing it to spite Umbridge, but who was I to judge? We all hated the woman.

"Don't say that Harry," I tried to console him, grabbing his essay and scanning over what he had written so far. "This is actually not that bad! You spelled 'bezoar' wrong though, let me fix it."

"Easy for you to say," he grumbled. "You're going to get an Outstanding and you don't even have to try." I elected to ignore his comment, choosing instead to continue reading and correcting his essay. If there's one thing I knew about my boyfriend, it was that he would only continue to argue if he got a rise out of you. I tried to be sympathetic, I really did, especially with the added problem of the majority of the Wizarding World thinking he was a fraud who was lying about Voldemort's return for attention from the press, but he knew how I felt about his complaining.

"I think you'd have a bit of an easier time if you actually paid attention," I quipped shortly, trying not to let on how his comment bugged me. I handed the essay back to him. "It looks good, you just need to finish the conclusion and you should be fine." I closed my book and began loading my stuff into my bag, stifling a yawn.

"I'm going to get some sleep, please don't stay up too late. You need good rest just as much as you need studying." I slung my bag over my shoulder, pressed a quick kiss to Harry's cheek, and gave him a cajoling squeeze on the shoulder before leaving the library and heading back to the Y/H/N common room. It was well after midnight, meaning I was breaking curfew, but as long as I walked quickly enough I wouldn't have anything to worry-

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? You know you're breaking curfew, Y/L/N. Why might that be?" The familiar, mocking voice of none other than Draco Malfoy stopped me in my tracks. I cursed under my breath, turning to face him with my arms crossed.

"I was studying for Potions and I lost track of time. I'm sure you're going to turn me in anyways, but if it means anything I was headed back to my dormitory anyways," I scowled. Malfoy rolled his eyes, the smug smile still glued to his pale face.

"Hmm, I'm sure you were 'studying,'" he held up air quotes to punctuate his words. "Tell me, is Potter actually any good in bed, or are you only with him for the fame?" Now, I wasn't usually one to lose my temper, but I was tired, cranky, and honestly, not in the mood to deal with Malfoy.

"Why are you asking? Jealous you can't get a chance with him, are you?" I snapped, attempting to push past him and continue down the hallway. His hand darted out of his robes and snagged my arm tightly, stopping me from continuing. When I turned to look up at him, his shiny Inquisitorial Squad badge glinted in the moonlight, reflecting the expression of anger that crossed his face.

"Not so fast Y/L/N, you're coming with me," he snarled, dragging me along the hallway toward Professor Umbridge's office. I tried to ignore the twist of dread in my stomach. I'd seen what she did to Harry after his detention, and I wanted nothing less than to receive the same treatment.

Malfoy knocked on the Headmistress's door, and after a few moments of shuffling, she came to the door, wearing a pink bathrobe but with her hair still perfectly done. It was after midnight, and she hadn't even been to bed yet. Probably sitting at her desk scheming up ways to torture first years for fun, I thought bitterly to myself as Malfoy shoved me inside her office and explained why I was there.

"Well, Miss Y/L/N, is it? I have to say I'm not surprised, given the likes of who you choose to spend your time with," Umbridge simpered, sitting down at her desk. "Thank you Mister Malfoy, you may go now. Now, Miss Y/L/N, you're lucky I hadn't gone to bed quite yet, we can just get your detention over with now so we don't have to prolong this little issue. Have a seat, please." I sat, trying to keep my facial expression as neutral as possible.

"What exactly is my punishment, Headmistress?" I asked through gritted teeth. Umbridge smiled unkindly at me and passed me a piece of parchment and one of her special quills.

"You're going to write some lines for me this evening, my dear. Not too many, it's already quite late, just enough to make sure the message gets across. You'll write 'I must not break curfew' one hundred times, and then you'll write 'I must not sleep around' one hundred times. Do I make myself clear?" Did she really just say that?! How much more horrible could this woman get, by Godric!

"Crystal." I stared her right in the eyes for a beat longer than was comfortable before starting my lines. Immediately, a stinging sensation on the back of my hand caused me to bite the inside of my cheek. No way was I going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. I wrote as fast as I could, numbering each sentence, doing my best to ignore the blood that was beginning to drop from my hand onto the parchment.

When I was done, the clock read quarter to two. Too bad I can't use this as an excuse to get out of this Potions exam tomorrow, I thought bitterly, passing the paper over to Umbridge, who had been dozing off until the scrape of my chair legs on the stone floor jolted her awake. Before I could turn to leave, she grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly until another drop of blood leaked from the end of the word 'around' and fell onto the parchment.

"This will do, for now. However, if the message isn't clear enough, rest assured I can have you write for much, much longer," Umbridge smiled cooly, and released my hand. I turned on my heel and left her office without a word, heading straight back to the common room and trying to ignore the stinging in my hand. When I got back, I collapsed into my bed and fell straight into a sleep full of Umbridge's face and poison antidotes.

The next morning, I met with Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the Gryffindor table for breakfast and some last-minute review before the exam. I had wrapped my hand carefully in some gauze and worn a sweater despite the warmth of the early spring day, pulling the long sleeve down to cover my hand. Of course, given their experience with Umbridge, it didn't take long for the three friends to notice something was wrong.

"'I must not sleep around'? Are you joking?" Harry read incredulously, and I snatched my hand back from him.

"Malfoy had it in his head that I was doing some sort of walk of shame back to the common room," I grumbled, flexing my hand a few times to try and loosen up the sore scars. Hermione looked aghast, and Harry was clearly fuming.

"I hate them. I hate them all. I can't believe they did this to you," he hissed under his breath, trying and failing to control his anger. I laid my non-scarred hand comfortingly on his leg, feeling the tension he was holding in all of his muscles.

"I hate them too, just as much as you do, but right now we have an exam to worry about," I reminded him gently, stifling a yawn and flipping open my Potions book. We studied until the Great Hall began to empty and the picked-over breakfast dishes magically disappeared back to the kitchens. As we were walking to the dungeons together for our exam, Harry grabbed my hand and we fell a few steps behind Ron and Hermione, who were walking bent over the same book reading a section on the Draught of Living Death.

"Y/N, are you sure you're okay to take this test?" he asked, concern written all over his face. I leaned in and closed the distance between us, kissing him softly. He kissed back gingerly, as if he was afraid to hurt me.

"I'm fine Harry, promise," I breathed against his lips. He frowned as I pulled away.

"Alright, but I don't like it. I hate what they did to you," he scowled. I grabbed his hand and interlaced my fingers with his, taking comfort in the familiar feeling of his hands enveloping mine. Together, we walked to the Potions classroom talking quietly about how much we hated Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad, and how nervous we were for this exam.