Haven .|. H. J. POTTER✔

Chapter forty-five*

[Mature content is marked where it starts]

There were a lot of different reasons why Haven didn't want to return to Hogwarts at first, the obvious being that it was the place her mother drew her last breath. 

Another one was the lack of rich men. Only a select few of the students were adults and since they were all in Haven's year, she knew none of them was any good when she knew them as teenagers so she had little hope for them. And even fewer of those already had a fortune of their own so she could hardly steal their money by marrying them. There was just a lot more opportunity for her in that particular field if she stayed at the Leaky Cauldron.

The problem with that was money.

The next thing Haven thought she wasn't going to like was the endless conversations about the war she expected there to be, but luckily, only Alex talked about it in his classes. The rest of the teachers avoided the subject like the plague. Haven had no problem with talking about the war itself. Over time, her feelings for the whole circus had grown numb. What she did have a problem with was the possible attempts at people trying to help her. She didn't like that.

The lack of privacy was another thing. She'd have to share a room with her fellow Hufflepuffs - even though only Hannah Abbott showed up. Haven liked doing things alone, she liked the solitude and the tranquillity. 

But the thing that annoyed Haven the most at that moment was the classes and the dull teachers. 

Despite her new ambition of making it to France with a Healer apprenticeship, Haven couldn't say she was interested in all the subjects and motivated to learn about every little detail. 

Especially Potions. God, Haven hated Potions.

At first, she thought it was because of their sucky teacher throughout the first five years of her Hogwarts career, but even when Snape transferred to Defence Against the Dark Arts and Professor Slughorn took his place, Haven found herself irritated by the little details she often forgot and the importance of stirring clockwise and counter-clockwise without losing count or getting dizzy. Haven hated the fumes that caused headaches and made her want to puke, and she hated the often nasty-coloured, soupy-textured Potions they were forced to make. 

Even the font of the instructions bothered her. No one could read cursive nowadays anyways so Haven didn't bother to read every little word, usually just skimmed over it and hoped for the best. 

This day, however, was a great improvement in Haven's opinion: Slughorn had somehow gotten rid of the nasty and sickening fumes that messed with your head. 

Haven nearly danced when she entered the classroom and found herself able to breathe normally through her nose. Harry thought it was both hilarious and adorable to see Haven like that, but he had no idea what was coming for him yet. 

"I'm bored," Haven complained to Harry for many the tenth time that class. Haven was a very strong advocate of banning Double Potions. No matter the amount of love a person could have for soup; no living, breathing person would choose Double Potions over one class of Potions. 

"I know that," Harry responded, being the one of the two to copy down Slughorn's notes. "You've been bugging me about it every five minutes,"

"Well, that's because you're not helping," Haven rolled her eyes and sighed, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand as her elbow rested on her desk. 

"I thought you'd become motivated for school again?" Harry reminded her.

"Motivated, maybe, but not excited. There's a difference,"