Hogwarts Legacy x Reader | Oneshots

Poppy Sweeting | Unbeknownst Romance

Rain pelted down from the dark skies like sky giants spitting into the dirt of the earth. The horrible weather was so thick that one could not see more than a few metres until the view got blurry. Clouds blanketed the night sky, shielding every star that sparkled; their glitter now dimmed with the pillows of dark grey overhanging the quiet world. A rumble of thunder sounded through the sky like the gods were hungry for lightning - the clouds shivered with anticipation as electricity danced across the fluff, whizzing with excitement or fright; perhaps both.

(Y/N) sighed as she eyed the weather, clutching her teacup tightly as a sense of dread flushed her body. She watched the rain smash down the peonies in her garden and frowned; witnessing the unfortunate ruin of her flowers at the hands of the awful British weather. She pursed her lips and forced her eyes away from the view and observed her cat sleeping peacefully by the fire. She sneered at the pet, envious of its tranquillity despite the harsh sound of the rain on the roof.

The rain was getting worse with each minute. (Y/N) had bunched old newspapers by front and back doors to prevent the relentless water from invading her home, although it was certainly stubborn in its quest. Trickles of water slipped through the cracks of the tile in her roof, dripping into the warm home like a broken tap.

(Y/N) hoped the rain would calm soon, but with the flickers of light in the sky and the growing volume of thunder, she knew it would only harshen with time.

(Y/N) placed her unfinished tea on the kitchen counter and turned her gaze back to the outside, her eyes squinting through the rain. Suddenly, her eyes caught movement. She stepped closer to the window and narrowed her gaze further, trying to locate the source of the movement. A sense of worry filled her heart in the fear that it may be something dangerous considering there was not a lot of life surrounding her quaint cottage.

She inhaled with mild fright, her brows furrowing. She spotted a flicker of white in the midst of the darkness. Her confusion only increased, although she deduced that it was the flicker of a lantern; perhaps someone trying to make their way through the fleeting rain.

She stepped even closer to the glass, trying to catch the person in the night and contemplating whether she was to offer assistance - it could be a stranded stranger seeking shelter, or it could be something dangerous. There was another sudden flash, perking (Y/N)'s interest further. She gently pressed her fingertips on the window, feeling the cold sensation on her flesh but ignoring it as her thoughts were occupied with the strange occurrence outside her home. Again, there was another flash, but it was brighter, and coloured orange. It illuminated a group of people who looked dishevelled and tired, bombarded with the hellish storm. (Y/N) guessed there were about four or five of them, all seemingly to be backing up against the source of the light. Their arms were raised awkwardly; (Y/N) assumed it was in surrender, but in reality, they raised their wands in defence - wands (Y/N) could not see in the transparency of the dark. Another flash brightened, lighting up the perpetrator who looked to be holding a weapon. With the flash being the colour of deep red, (Y/N) immediately assumed a gun, perhaps a shotgun or musket - it was in fact another wand.

(Y/N) gasped loudly in shock at the sight of the weapon and leaped away from the window. She gulped thickly at the witness of a shooting (or so she thought). She shook her head slightly, ridding her senses of any sort of hesitancy, and spun around, her eyes searching for a weapon. She instantly spotted the fire iron, the metal poker she used to move the wood around in her fireplace. She yanked it from its bucket, successfully knocking it down with a clang. She whipped open her front door, forcing the squelchy newspaper away from the threshold. She ventured into the rain, her skin immediately coated with goosebumps in the ferocious cold. Her hair stuck to her head, knotting thickly. Her clothes clung to her cold body as she waded through the water, her eyes narrowing thinly as the weather desperately tried to clog her sight. She ran into the night, her feet slipping in the mud slightly, her weapon of choice clutched in her hand.