_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ It was practically written in the stars, illuminated by the light of the moon. Both Y/N Sterling and Harry Potter felt like it was a never-ending pining. It was a fleeting feeling, seeing the other smile at them across the room. The...
When Y/N woke the next morning, she was alone on Harry's bed. Groggily widening her eyes and yawning, she checked his alarm clock. It was seven-thirty in the morning, and hour and a half until classes - Y/N cursed her internal clock. She ripped open his curtains and swung her legs off of the bed as quietly as she could. Not bothering to wake Ron and Dean, Y/N stalked down the common room.
Just as she suspected, Harry was sat near the fire, already dressed in his robes, hunched over a table.
"Harry James Potter," Y/N said sternly.
The boy turned around in his seat - the armchair they fought over yesterday - and gave Y/N a sheepish, but charming grin. "Y/N Sterling," he replied in a teasing tone, but it was slightly strained.
"What are you doing awake?" the girl narrowed her eyes at him. He was hunched over parchment, holding a quill. He most definitely wasn't doing homework. Harry Potter did not do homework at seven-thirty in the morning.
"What? Upset you woke up without me beside you?" he drawled, giving her a cheeky grin. His eyes ghosted over her figure - it made her feel a little conscious of her tousled hair and pajamas, since Harry was probably judging her.
She fiddled with her necklace, twirling the miniature Herms and Trouble book in her fingers
Y/N rolled her eyes and walked over to him, peering over his shoulder. Catching a glimpse of his words, she exclaimed, "I knew it! You're writing to Sirius!"
The rest of the letter was, as follows,
Dear Sirius,
I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting. I was half asleep when I wrote to you last time. There's no point coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, my head's feeling completely normal.
From,
Harry.
"Harry..." Y/N said in a dangerously low voice. "What did we talk about last night?"
"How Sirius can handle himself...and that my scar hurting means something..."
Y/N put her hands on her hips as Harry hung his head and trailed off his mumbling. "And what are you doing right now?" Y/N said.
"Writing a letter that implies he can't handle himself and lying about my scar..."
"So, are we going to change this?" Y/N asked, eyebrows raised, mouth curved into a little frown. Harry gave a huge, dramatic sigh when she sat down on the couch.
