|| hermione/ fem reader ||
a slytherin like you can't possibly be entangled with a muggle-born.
Where loyalty is everything, you are given a crucial mission: lead Harry Potter to the Dark Lord, who has declared his return. As you navigate this dang...
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"I heard Potter and his friends have been stealing Polyjuice Potion from Professor Snape," Theo said, gripping the edge of the table as he leaned in. "The man's been furious about it."
Draco stifled a laugh. "Oh, really? That's rich," he challenged, leaning forward, eager to share in the gossip. "He wouldn't have the guts to pull something like that. He's too busy being a tragic case to do anything remotely clever." He let out a laugh, nudging Crabbe and Goyle, who joined in with their own chuckles.
"That Weasley is such a wuss," Pansy chimed in.
"Don't forget the know-it-all," Crabbe snorted between laughs. "Her mouth is bigger than her brain!" He winced and groaned, rubbing his shin beneath the table.
"Sorry," Y/N mumbled, glancing at him. "I didn't see your foot."
Crabbe shot her a glare, but Y/N met his gaze without flinching.
The Slytherin group sat together in the Great Hall, surrounded by the smell of pastries and various seasonings. The room buzzed with countless conversations.
Draco ran a hand through his hair. "I hope Potter loses and you win," he said, turning to Y/N with a grin. "Just imagine the glory for Slytherin."
Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.
"We'd be more than legendary," he continued, enjoying the idea.
"It would be historic," Blaise added, jabbing his fork toward Y/N. "You have to take him down."
Y/N's attention drifted to the bowl of food in front of her, trying to block out Blaise's words.
"Take him down?" Pansy echoed with a mischievous smile.
"I mean, if he broke a bone or two," Theo shrugged. "It's not the worst outcome."
Y/N pushed their comments away. The thought of hurting Harry made her stomach churn. It's my duty to protect him, she reminded herself.
Though she had grown somewhat tolerant of the trio's antics, it was more about strategy—keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.
While the others reveled in fantasies of glory for their house, Y/N's gaze wandered around the Great Hall. She scoffed quietly to herself, some students were already glancing her way, perhaps labeling her as a "heartthrob". How long until that title fades? she wondered.
Her eyes roamed until they landed on Hermione, who was laughing at something one of the Gryffindor boys had said. Y/N felt a sudden pull in her chest, like a spell drawing her in.
When Hermione finally lifted her chin, as if sensing Y/N's gaze, their eyes locked.
Y/N's stomach twisted. She gripped the bench, knuckles white as everything around her faded into a blur. All that remained clear was Hermione.
