Flames Of Destiny // HJP [1]

Chapter Six : The Unforgiveable Curse 🧚🏻₊

「 ✦ 06 ✦ 」

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🧚🏻₊˚ʚ 🪷 ₊˚

⋆˚࿔ (Y/N) 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝕺᥎ᥱr the next two days, life at Hogwarts remained relatively calm, except for one particularly disastrous Potions lesson that left (Y/n) feeling utterly humiliated. In the middle of brewing a complex potion, panic set in. Her heart sank as she realised she had forgotten to add a crucial ingredient—a mistake that hit her like a lightning bolt. In her frantic attempt to fix it, she accidentally knocked over her own cauldron. The bubbling concoction spilled out like a torrent, splattering across the stone floor in a frothy, vivid mess.

Professor Snape, who seemed to have returned from the summer holidays with an even sharper edge to his already biting demeanour, fixed her with a glare of pure, unadulterated disdain.

She felt tears prickling at her eyes, but crying would only make the humiliation worse. The weight of everyone's stares, the smug smirks from the Slytherins, and their whispered insults gnawed at her.

Snape didn't even need to speak; the way he scrawled a zero on her parchment was punishment enough. The sound of his quill scratching across the parchment was deliberate, each stroke feeling like a personal attack.

To make matters worse, Neville, who had melted his sixth cauldron of the term, sat nearby, much to the Gryffindor's collective dismay and the Slytherins' cruel delight.

Snape's smirk widened. He was enjoying this.

Then came the final blow:

"Detention longbottom and Miss Weasley, stay behind after class," Snape announced with a twisted look of satisfaction. A cold shiver ran down (Y/n)'s spine, her stomach knotting in dread. She had read plenty of horror stories about Snape's detentions (in (Y/n) Weasle's diary), and she could already imagine the misery ahead.

The real (Y/n) Weasley might have faced countless detentions before, but this was different. This was her first, and it felt like the end of the world. She had even studied ahead for Potions, and still, she had failed miserably.

"I knew you were rubbish at Potions, but I didn't think you were this clumsy," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Well, see you later, (Y/n)," said Hermione sympathetically.

Harry shot her a look that seemed to say Snape was an idiot, before leaving with Ron and Hermione.

Detention turned out to be even worse than (Y/n) had feared. What should have been a quick hour of punishment stretched into nearly two, all thanks to poor Neville, who had a complete breakdown halfway through. Snape had tasked them with the grisly job of disembowelling a barrel full of horned toads, their slimy innards squelching beneath their fingers. The foul stench clung to (Y/n)'s robes, making her stomach churn, but she couldn't leave Neville behind, even after she'd finished. He was trembling so much he could barely hold his knife. Tears streamed down his round face, and it took every bit of (Y/n)'s strength not to break down herself. She steeled herself, whispering quiet reassurances to Neville until his sobs softened into shaky breaths.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, Snape dismissed them with a sharp flick of his hand. As they made their way back to the Gryffindor common room, (Y/n)'s hands were still trembling, and she could feel the tears she had been holding back threatening to spill. But she couldn't cry, not now—not with Neville looking up at her with such guilt and gratitude in his eyes. She forced a weak smile, trying to reassure him.