Harry Potter Characters x Reader Oneshots

Harry Potter x Navaeh

A crash, a flash and a dash. Thunder and lightning shook the fifth-year Slytherin girls' dorm room and Pansy was quick to jump out of her bed to close the window to the already cold room.

"Bloody British weather," she muttered.

"At least you don't wake up to a tornado making its way through your street," a sleepy voice said to her left.

"You poor Americans," Pansy sighed. "You haven't got any idea what time it is, Navaeh?"

"I would read the clock on the wall but I haven't exactly got my glasses on my face."

"It's six o'clock," Tracey Davis informed from her bed.

"We still have an hour of sleep to go then," Pansy stated, climbing back into her bed.

"What's the point?" Navaeh asked with a big yawn, swinging her legs over the side of her bed.

"Where're you off to?" Tracey asked.

"Common room ... Great Hall ... who knows? I haven't decided yet," Navaeh shrugged, slipping her dressing gown over her shoulders and gathering her uniform to get ready in the bathroom. 

"She's probably off to see Potter," Pansy scoffed. "Having another rendez-vous?"

Navaeh laughed sarcastically and stuck her tongue out childishly before disappearing into the bathroom with her long caramel-coloured hair whipping behind the door just before it shut.

"How long have you been together now? Two years?" Tracey asked.

"Well done, Trace, you can count," Navaeh's voice answered, muffled by the door. "And if you actually got to know him - y'know, seeing as we're in fifth-year and all - you'd see that he's a lovely person."

"Terribly charming," Pansy murmured.

Tracey snorted then added, "Although he is quite the gentleman giving you his scarf when it's cold."

"Oh, look at me with my precious Gryffindor heartthrob of a boyfriend's scarf. Red and gold you say? No, that's burgundy and mustard. What a coincident, they're my favourite colours," Pansy said, skipping in between the beds with her green and silver scarf being thrown around her neck constantly in an attempt to mock Navaeh. "He says the colours bring out the chocolate-y-ness of my eyes. Do you agree?"

"Hilarious," Navaeh said behind the door. You could see the blank expression she wore on her face just by hearing the tone of her voice.

"If only you got to know him," Tracey imitated, "then you'd understand. He doesn't make fun of my freckles like you do, either. He says they're cute."

The door to the bathroom opened and a towel came flying out, hitting Pansy square in the face.

"Shut up and get ready," Navaeh ordered, laughing once the towel was thrown back her way causing her glasses to fall off her face.

The day, as Navaeh usually found Mondays in the winter, was rather uneventful. History of Magic was the most boring one and a half hours of her life (although she could fall asleep as Pansy was taking the notes that day). Potions for another hour and a half wasn't the best but it certainly wasn't the worst (Snape set an essay on Strengthening Solution but Draco helped her with her Calming Draught like the amazing little minion he was). An hour of Divination was all right, but the fact that Ron kept pestering Harry as to "how he got the girl" meant that Navaeh didn't exactly have the chance to speak to him all lesson. The day ended with two hours of Defence Against the Dark Arts with Umbridge disrespecting American Indian wizarding culture (which lead Navaeh to explode and almost, almost, landed her in detention until, as Tracey believed, Umbridge remembered that Navaeh was a Pure-blood and capable of using that powerful form of American magic).