Ancient Magician (Severus x Reader)

Chapter 25: The Diary

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𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘳 2 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 25: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺

"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧"

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I was rudely shaken awake far too early for a Sunday morning. Groaning, I blinked the sleep from my eyes to see Hermione standing over me, arms crossed and eyes way too alert for this hour.

"Get up," she said firmly. "It's already seven!"

"Seven?" I mumbled, burying my face in my pillow. "Hermione, it's Sunday. The only thing I'm supposed to be doing is sleeping in."

"Too bad. You're coming with us," she said, already pulling the blanket off of me. I let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled out of bed like my bones were made of jelly.

By the time we got down to the Great Hall, the four of us—Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me—sat down at our usual spot. I was still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, reaching for a slice of toast, when Ron suddenly leaned in with a look that made me pause.

"What?" I asked, blinking at him, mid-bite.

"Are you all right?" he asked, brows furrowed. "We heard Malfoy called you... you know."

My chewing slowed as I stared at him, confused. "I'm fine. I honestly don't even know what that meant," I said with a shrug.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You were with Fred and George, weren't you? They didn't tell you what it meant?"

I swallowed and picked at my toast again. "Well, I didn't exactly tell them about it. And judging by the looks on your faces and their faces, I'm guessing it wasn't exactly a compliment."

"'Bad' doesn't even cover it," Harry muttered, shaking his head.

"Yeah, it's bad bad, Y/n!" Harry added louder this time, throwing his hands up.

I let out a sigh and looked at them all seriously. "I get that you're worried, but seriously, I can handle Malfoy."

Ron glanced over at the Slytherin table, then leaned closer. "Yeah, but... why's he looking at you like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're a particularly interesting potion ingredient he's thinking of throwing into a cauldron," Ron said.

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe he just finds me mysterious and charming."

Hermione snorted. "Or maybe he fancies you."

I choked. Literally. Bread crumbs flew down the wrong pipe, and I coughed until my eyes watered.

"What?! Are you mental?"

But before any of them could answer, a familiar voice cleared his throat behind me. I froze mid-cough.

"Oh no," I groaned, already knowing who it was. I turned slowly. "What do you want?"

"You're in trouble. Get up," Professor Snape said, arms folded, his usual unimpressed scowl firmly in place.

I blinked. "No. I don't feel like it."

"Get up, Grimblehawk," he repeated, sharper this time.

I tilted my head, giving him a challenging smile. "Make me."