stuck with you {h.p x reader}

3.13 ・゜゜・．

"She's just trying to get us to talk to her again."

Harry knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn't stop him being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didn't know whether he would ever see it again. He was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state would it be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests?

Ron was furious with Hermione, too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage.

Y/n remained friends with all of them. Yes, she could see why Harry was angry, but Hermione did it for the better. She did it to make sure they were safe. She was quite annoyed that Ron, though. It wasn't even his broomstick and he was behaving worse towards Hermione than Harry was.

Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harry and Ron supposed she had taken refuge in the library, and didn't try and persuade her to come back.

All in all, they were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again.

Lessons started again next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours in the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing, while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs.

The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life-lines she had ever seen.

It was Defence Against the Dark Arts that Harry was keen to get to; he wanted to get started on his Anti-Dementor lessons as soon as possible.

"Ah yes," said Lupin, when Harry reminded him of his promise at the end of class. "Let me see ... how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough... I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this ... we can't bring a real Dementor into the castle to practise on..."

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Ron, as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"

There was a loud and impatient 'tuh' from behind them. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armour, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close. Y/n went to try and help her.

"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.

"Nothing," said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

"Yes, you were," said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you -"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.

"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ron.

"Fine," said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off, Y/n following her. She knew that she was the only person Hermione could talk to.

"She doesn't know," said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again."

               ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Harry left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom with Y/n, she wanted to see if she could find out more about her parents. It was dark and empty when they arrived, but Harry lit the lamps with his wand and they both had waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binns' desk.