𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 (Harry Potter x Reader)

Y5 .｡:+*✧ Scars & Secret Meetings

Harry was glad to see Y/N's mood brighten up when Professor Grubbly-Plank pulled out a bunch of baby Bowtruckle during their Care of Magical Creatures class.

"My grandpa has one in America," Y/N told the professor excitedly, as she extended her hands for the Bowtruckles to hop on. "He's almost seventy years old- the Bowtruckle, I mean. His name's Pickett."

"Of course," Professor Grubbly-Plank chuckled. "your grandfather is well-known to the world of Care of Magical Creatures."

Dinner, however, didn't do them so well- or mostly for Harry, at least.

Angelina tracked him down and learned that he wasn't able to attend the Friday tryouts, told him she wasn't at all impressed by his attitude, before storming off again.

"I'm in detention!" Harry shouted after her, before growling in annoyance and turning back to his friends. "Does she really think I'd rather sit in that salmon-flushed room instead of playing Quidditch?"

"At least it's just lines," Hermione gave him and Y/N a weak smile. "it's not that dreadful of a punishment."

Y/N and Harry swapped quick glances, but didn't say anything further.

"We have so much homework already," Ron complained, breaking the silence.

"Well, why didn't you do any of it last night?" Hermione asked swiftly with a frown.

"I was- fancied a walk..." Ron muttered.

Y/N stared at him suspiciously, as he continued with his meal, his ears tinting red. She had the distinct impression that she and Harry weren't the only ones hiding something.

∞ ϟ 9¾ ♔ ⚯͛ △r⃒⃘ ➵ ♆

Their second detention was no better than the first- in fact, it was a lot worse.

Y/N wanted to scream out in pain as she felt the back of her hand slash open again. It was like rubbing salt on a wound.

Harry was forced to watch her cut her hand open for the first ten minutes, gritting his teeth and breathing heavily.

Thursday, though, was the worst.

The words 'I must not tell lies' were eventually permanently carved into the back of their hands.

As Y/N started writing, blood was trickling down her wrist, causing a bug bloody mess on her parchment.

Y/N hated every inch of herself, when she felt a tear of pain and anger roll down her cheek.

She quickly wiped it away, angry at herself for showing weakness in front of Umbridge.

But her hand was stinging horribly. She couldn't continue anymore. Please, don't let her continue.

"Continue, Miss Scamander," Umbridge said, when she spotted that Y/N had stopped her writing.

For the rest of the detention, Y/N's eyes were blurred and she was starting to feel light-headed from all the excruciating pain.

They were finally allowed to return to their common room, a little past ten, with their hands gashed.

When they finally reached the Gryffindor common room, Harry immediately sat Y/N down at one of the velvet sofas and took her hand in his.

Before he could speak, however, the two froze, as another person had entered the common room right after them.

"Y/N? Harry?" Ron exclaimed, stopping in his tracks abruptly.