TEACHER'S PET ━ 𝓡. Lupin

4. The school hierarchy

—"ALL RIGHT... NOW we need... some more powdered moonstone." Natalia demanded, eyes fixed on the cauldron -but her mind in a completely different place- as she stirred with very little vigor the purplish concoction.

The redhead sitting beside her lazily added the required ingredient to the cauldron, he then absentmindedly observed the potion, as it was taking the correct grayish coloration, fighting a yawn while his pale and freckled cheek was resting on his left hand.

"George, I swear. I, too, would prefer being everywhere else but here. Next time, if I were you, I would try not to fail Potions. That way, neither you, nor I, will have to waste our precious time brewing Draught of Peace at this time of the evening." She snapped, slightly annoyed.

Resting hours after dinner? You never want to take them away from Natalia Zabini.

Still, the seventeen year old had always found saying no to people very difficult, let alone saying no to a professor. Hence refusing was out of question when Snape had asked her and other skilled students to tutor some 5th years that had failed his class.

However, with her being an extremely busy 7th year student, spending any more time in a classroom sounded like plain torture to her.
She felt the mental and physical fatigue weighing on her eyelids, the dimmed lights and the dungeons' atmosphere wasn't really helping her fighting off the drowsiness.

"Well, if I were you, Lia, I would try not to get Outstanding or Exceeding expectations in every single subject, that way you wouldn't find yourself tutoring incompetent students like me." George exclaimed playfully, with newfound enthusiasm, as he gave her one of his usual bright smiles.
Natalia's chest warmed up as she couldn't ignore the boy's cuteness, she ended up widely smiling herself.

"Zabini. Weasley. This is not playtime, you two are here to work." Hissed the raven haired man standing behind them, piercing their backs with a glare.

[...]

With great relief, Natalia dragged herself out of the Potions classroom, followed by the Weasley twins and at least five other people, 5th, 6th or 7th year students.

As much as she wanted to take part in the lighthearted chitchats, she really was too tired to afford it, hence she just listened, keeping a warm smile on her face until they all split up, each directed to their own dormitories.

The brunette started heading towards the Ravenclaw Tower at a sluggish pace, exhaustingly squinting as she felt her body weaken.

You could have eaten something more at dinner, you low-iron-champion.

She sarcastically thought to herself whilst recalling, with not much pleasure, all the times she had fainted and all of the visits she had payed to Madam Pomfrey over the years.

She cringed, thinking about one of the worst incidents -like when, during her second year, she had passed out while at flying class, deadweight falling from her broom, face smushed on the ground (she had therefore decided not to take that class again in the following years, flying really wasn't for her)-, her mouth twitched, her eyes tightened at the thought, almost as if she was savoring an extremely sour candy, a shiver of embarrassment ran through her spine.

Luckily (or not so much) she didn't have enough time to recall other terrible -and extremely embarrassing- moments as she felt the familiar feeling of her legs collapsing, slipping backwards, falling with a thud on the thick burgundy carpet that perfectly coated the floor.