-Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader
-Y/N, a muggle born girl, navigates the complexities of integrating into the wizarding world where she doesn't quite belong. As a 7th year and a human without magic, she must learn to adjust and prove her worth, but also...
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The morning of the first day of school comes quicker than you could've imagined. You are excited, but also terrified. You end up spending half the day in your room with a stomach ache that you claim is due to James' terrible cooking. However, you know it's just your nerves. Especially since you don't have any breakfast or lunch. Instead, you spend your time looking over the school supplies list and trying to figure out what the hell a quill is.
When it's time to get ready for dinner, you get dressed in the robes you were given to by Professor Weasley and wait in the kitchen for James to enter. When he does, you find your jaw dropping to the ground. "A suit?!" you gasp. "I've only ever seen you wear one of those when..."
"The funeral," James finishes for you, his smile faltering. "Yeah."
"Is it a uniform?" you ask, taking a closer look. "It's different from the ones the girls are wearing."
"Are you dumb? Why would professors wear the same clothes as students? It's obviously a suit."
"Don't talk to me like that," you snap. "Why are you dressed so nicely, anyway?"
"I'm a professor, Y/N. I should look the part," he sighs, turning away. "Are you ready to go?"
"As I'll ever be," you shrug.
"Then shall we?" he asks, gesturing to the door.
"Let's go," you nod.
The two of you make your way down the halls of Hogwarts, heading to the great hall. You've heard a lot about this place from Professor Weasley within the past week. She's told you all about the sorting ceremony, too.
When you finally get there, it takes your breath away. You've never seen anything like it. Not in any movies, not on television, and certainly not in person. "Woah," you whisper.
"This is unreal," James remarks.
You nod as you walk to the front of the room. There, Professor Weasley has James join the other professors and asks you to go sit with the other kids who need to be sorted. You groan as you look at them. Obviously, you'll stick out like a sore thumb. They can't be older than twelve while you've already turned eighteen.
"Don't worry," Weasley smiles at you. "It'll be fine."
"If you say so," you sigh, trudging towards the group.
As soon as you take a seat, a young boy sits beside you and grins. "Ew," you whisper to yourself.
"Hello, I'm Theo Abrams," he says, holding out his hand. "And you are?"
"Y/N Bennett," you reply, begrudgingly accepting the handshake.
"So, why aren't you sitting at the older kids' table, Miss Bennett?" he asks you, genuinely curious. You can see the eyes of others start to turn to you as well.
"Mind your own business, will ya?" you roll your eyes.
"I'm sorry, but you're the one who looked uncomfortable and I wanted to help."
