The Boy Who Lived (Harry Potter x Reader)

Chapter 14

"Did you know that there are seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul?"

"Oi, shut up mate, you sound like Hermione." Ron groaned.

"I'm right here, you do realize." Hermione huffed, glaring at Ron.

You laughed and snuggled deeper into your coat, the cold nipping at your face.

"But what if I commit one?" Harry continued, placing a hand on his forehead in stress. 

You nudged him, grinning. "Relax, you'll be fine."

It was the day before Harry's first Quidditch match. To say he had been training hard was an understatement. No one had seen him play yet though, because Wood had wanted to use Harry as Gryffindor's 'secret weapon'. And now that the match was nearing, the poor boy was anxious and nervous beyond belief. Currently, the four of you were outside in the freezing cold, huddled around a jar that contained a burning blue fire Hermione had conjured. 

You caught sight of a familiar greasy-haired Professor, and it seemed he was headed your way. "Snape." You hissed to the others in warning.

Instantly, you all moved closer, attempting to block the fire from him, certain it wasn't allowed.

"Hello, Professor!" You greeted, trying to look as innocent and cheerful as possible.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" Snape demanded, completely ignoring you.

Harry held up the book he had previously been reading, Quidditch Through the Ages. 

Snape sneered. "Library books are not to be taken outside the school, Potter. Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

Reluctantly, Harry handed the book to the Potions Professor, glaring at his retreating figure as Snape walked away, one foot dragging behind the other. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion as you watched him limp away.

"He just made that rule up." Harry rolled his eyes. 

"No doubt about it." You nodded, still wondering why Snape had been limping.

"Wonder what's wrong with his leg?" Harry asked, voicing your thoughts.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him." Ron muttered angrily, glaring down at the snow.

"Hey, Ron, the snow never did anything to you." You teased, seizing the opportunity to lighten the mood.

He turned towards you slowly, fixing you with an annoyed glare. It began to morph into a smirk, scaring you slightly.

"Yep..." he said, bending down, "but it'll do something to you!"

And with that, a fistful of snow hit you smack-dab on the face, Ron's hysterical laughter following suit.

You stood there sputtering in shock, the coldness of the snow washing over you and making you shiver just the smallest bit. The snow began to drip off your face, some of the snowflakes melting from your body heat before making it all the way down.

"Ron Weasley..." you hissed, your voice dangerously low, "You'll pay for that."

Then compacted snow was flying towards Ron. Unlike you, he had time to react so he grabbed Harry and set the poor unsuspecting boy in front of him. Now Harry was a stuttering, shocked mess with snow on his face.

"Ohmygosh! I'm so sorry, Harry!" you yelled, your hands flying to your mouth. "Are you okay?"

There was no response, just a raven-haired boy frozen on the spot with snow sliding down his face. Ron laughed even harder, pointing at Harry with his index finger, doubled over. He made a choking sound as snow flew into his mouth, Hermione looking away innocently, pretending to examine her nails.