𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐎 | 𝙎𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙪𝙨 𝙎.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐗

𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐎

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𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐎 (v.)

to fall in love again

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   TAPPING her pen against her desk, (Y/N) shifted in her chair within the History of Magic classroom, the subject not being her favorite since the teacher, a ghost by the name of Cuthbert Binns, only led lectures and never any hands-on activities. What was worse, she didn't have any friends she could talk to in the class to pass the time. Sighing, she slumped down and closed her eyes, willing time to move faster so she could go to lunch. Shooting up at the drawled out tone of the bell, she was the first one out the door as she was quite hungry.

"Ugh!" A grunt then flew from her mouth as she crashed to the floor after running into someone, clutching her nose as it throbbed slightly in pain.

"You shouldn't walk the halls in a daze, (L/N)," a rather spiteful voice proclaimed from above, (Y/N) glancing up to see Lazarus glowering down at her, his dark gaze flickering with irritation. "Especially when there's chance I might have the unfortunate pleasure of bumping into filth like you—as now so plainly demonstrates."

"I wasn't in a daze, Vince," she replied with an equally withering scowl before pushing herself off the cold floor. "And shouldn't I be the one saying that? As much as I know you want to be wrong, this is getting ridiculous now."

Lazarus' eyes narrowed.

"Slap a band-aid on that bruised ego of yours, and get over yourself," she scoffed before shoving past him. "You've mistaken me for someone who can give two shits about you."

"I'd be careful, if I were you," Lazarus called, his eyes boring into the back of her head.

She didn't turn back.

She merely flipped him off and kept walking.

Lazarus's frown tugged further down his face as he watched (Y/N) move farther and farther away from him, his jaw tightening to the point he swore his teeth could have cracked under such strain. He loathed (Y/N) to the point that the very knowledge of her existence bothered him—every day, whenever he saw her, he was reminded how worthless he knew she was, but how little his opinion mattered to her. It was enough to make him want to grasp her in his hands so he could slowly break her down into the nothing he wanted her to be.

But to break something, one must always know the weakness for said breakage.

Therefore, Lazarus followed (Y/N).

She noticed immediately.

"The fuck are you doing?" She stopped, glancing back at him with clear repulse in her (E/C) gaze. "Are you stalking me now?"

"We merely happen to be going in the same direction," Lazarus uttered lowly.

"You lie really badly."

Lazarus didn't respond; he just stared.

    "Vince, if you have something to say, just say it now," (Y/N) turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin as she returned his stare, her eyes cold whilst her expression remained a mask that couldn't be seen through—it was as if she were staring at something that she couldn't care less about. "Well? Do you have something to say, or not?"

    "Why do I have to explain myself to you?" Lazarus gave her an almost condescending smile.

    "If you think of me so little, then why bother following me?" She shot back, tilting her head as she did so almost to further the question. "Honestly, one would think you get off on the fact that you put others down." She snickered into her hand when seeing his smile drop, continuing, "Wait, no, sorry... that's already been proven, hasn't it? Are you following me so you can get punched again? Perhaps you would prefer a slap this time? Hey, if that's what gets your dick hard, I'm silently judging, but no need to drag me into it."

    "You little—" Lazarus stepped forward with hatred glimmering in his eyes, his words and his advance fortunately halted by Severus.

    He had somehow appeared behind Lazarus without him or (Y/N) noticing, his hand shooting out to grasp him by his shoulder and harshly jerk him back, eliciting a choked grunt from his lips. The Potions Professor looked unamused—then again, he always looked like so, yet (Y/N) found herself surprised to find a hint of spite lingering in his gaze when looking down at Lazarus.

  "Vince," Severus spoke to the boy, his tone clipped with ice and ill-concealed venom. "I wouldn't finish that sentence, if I were you."

    Lazarus glared up at Severus before slapping his hand away and stalking off down the hall, (Y/N) equating this as a victorious battle with a score of 3:0. So far, Lazarus was losing quite badly in her opinion, and she so very much reveled in the sight of him slinking off in defeat.

    "Thanks, Professor Snape," she then turned to the man who surprisingly was already looking at her.

    "It was not for your benefit that I intervened," he let out a slow exhale of breath through his nose as he pointed a finger at her, his stare intense. "You did not finish your work in detention yesterday. Therefore, you will spend your lunch hour with me as there is more than enough work for you to do after classes at the end of the day." Just when (Y/N) was about to protest, he held up his hand to silence her, continuing, "Professor Dumbledore himself saw to it to approve my request, so if you wish to complain, take it up with him."

    That shut her mouth.

    So inconspicuous was the slight curl of his lips that she almost missed it, making her wonder if he enjoyed making her react like this.

    "Fine," she sighed. "I'll follow you."

    "A wise choice, Miss (L/N)," Severus hummed, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer—almost too long, it seemed—before swiftly turning on his heel to walk down the hall, his stance broad and powerful which made his black cloak billow out behind him with each step he took.

    (Y/N) hurried to keep up.

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— 𝐓 𝐎  𝐁 𝐄  𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐓 𝐈 𝐍 𝐔 𝐄 𝐃 —