The Boy Who Lived (Harry Potter x Reader)

Chapter 11

After a long week of complaining to Mme. Pomfrey how you were fine and begging her to let you go, she finally caved.

"If you feel woozy or have a headache sometime in the next few days, I want you to come straight to the Hospital Wing," she ordered as she folded a white sheet.

"Yes, Mme. Pomfrey," you said, supressing an eyeroll. You knew that she only meant the best, and wanted you to be fully yourself once again, but really, you could only take so many lectures.

"Remember to take it easy," Mme. Pomfrey continued, "Of course, you'll be able to continue with your studies no problem, but no Flying classes or excessive running."

You nodded dully, sneaking a longing glance towards the doors that meant your freedom.

"And last, but certainly not least...Please, do not get into any fights with trolls!"

Your head snapped back towards her, and you opened your mouth to retort to her statement that you hadn't planned to fight one in the first place, but closed it when you realized it would only lead to more scolding. "I know," you said instead.

"Okay, you're free to go now child," she said with a soothing but stern tone, handing you a note that excused you from classes for the day. She reminded you of Mary Poppins.

Without a second glance back, you speed-walked towards the doors and pushed them open. The hallways were currently empty, because everyone was already in class. You wandered through the long halls, your mind unfocused as well. You let your thoughts churn as you went through all that had happened within the past few days in your head.

Harry. He was a wonderful friend. You just wished that people could idolize him for his amazing nature, and not just because he was famous or good looking.

Wait.

Good looking?

You felt a slight blush creep up your cheeks as you quickly shook the thought from your head.

No, Harry was just a good friend. You convinced yourself that it was natural to feel in awe of the young boy who had gone through so much already.

When you finally stopped daydreaming and took in your surroundings, you realized you had passed your Charms class and had come back to the girls' washroom, where the unfortunate accident with the troll had happened. The note still clutched tightly in your hand, you pulled the door open and walked inside, trying to relive the scene.

How had the troll gotten in? Professor McGonagall had told you not to worry about it when she had visited, but you were curious, which was not necessarily bad, but it could get you into trouble. You decided to be cautious and creep around a little. The inside of the washroom was all fixed again, so it wasn't like you could look for clues. You sighed, as you realized you were acting a little like Nancy Drew. You smiled a bit at the thought of the beloved series and continued your search.

Only ten minutes later, you found your search was in vain. Magic had cleared everything and completely fixed every broken bit, leaving no trace of the troll behind. You sighed and pushed the brown door slowly and reluctantly, making it creak as it opened. You saw a figure in a black robe with a purple turban just a little further down the hall. He was making his way over to you...or rather, the bathroom, since he didn't seem to notice you. You tried to bolt and hide behind one of the pillars, but the door had shut behind you with a slam, making both you and the man jump in fright. 

"M-miss (L-L/N)? What are you d-d-doing he-here?" Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher asked you with his usual stutter.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied boldly, your Gryffindor side showing in that moment. You cringed upon reflecting what you said. That was no way to speak to a Professor! You were so going to get into trouble...

"W-w-what, my d-dear? I-I was mak-making my way to P-P-P-Professor S-Snape's classroom, t-to have a fell-fellow teachers' t-talk with him." Quirrell responded. "Y-You shouldn't be o-out of c-c-class, M-Miss (L/N)."

You wanted to smack yourself in the face. Hard. "Yes, of course," You responded, "I'm sorry, Professor. I was not thinking. Oh, and I have a note from Mme. Pomfrey that excuses me from classes for the day...I just got out of the Hospital Wing."

"Then y-you should be r-rest-resting. I-I-I can g-give the note t-to whiche-ever Prof-Professor, wh-while you go b-b-b-back to your Comm-Common Room." Quirrell held out his left hand with a questioning look.

"Professor Flitwick," you responded, handing him the parchment. It was a little difficult to understand what Professor Quirrell was saying at times, but you assumed he must have had a terrible past to be so frightened of everything and everyone. "That's who I would've had right now. Thank you, Professor Quirrell!"

"It's n-n-n-n-no trouble at a-all my d-d-dear." He replied, taking the slip, offering a tentative and shaky smile.

You returned the gesture politely, then turned on your heel towards the Gryffindor Common Room. You realized the Potions Room was in the opposite direction and you turned around to re-direct Quirrell and saw nothing. Quirrell wasn't there anymore. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and assumed that he had already left, going the opposite way. You shrugged it off and continued on your way to the Gryffindor Tower.

If you had waited a little longer, you would have heard the slam of the Girls' Bathroom behind a flurry of a black robe...