Lesson Learned (Hogwarts!Tom AU) [COMPLETED]

Lesson Learned (1)

Tom stood outside Professor McGonagall's office, tapping his foot nervously as he waited for her to allow him inside. His last year at Hogwarts was the hardest one yet and he planned on using his charm, as per usual, to convince the head of Gryffindor house to allow him to take his NEWT exams even though his grades weren't exactly satisfactory. Tom was so close to being done with his magical studies, but this one class has been a burden to him since his third year when he stupidly chose it as an elective.

You were heading back to the Hufflepuff common room from your Defense Against the Dark Arts class when you passed by the office where you overheard the professor talking to an unfortunate student.

"I'm sorry Mr. Holland, but if you do not bring up your mark, you will not be able to take the NEWT exam at the end of the term. Now, instead of relying on your reputation to get you through life, I suggest you find yourself a tutor," Professor McGonagall stated firmly, causing you to furrow your brow as you leaned against the cold wall of the corridor. She couldn't mean Tom Holland could she? The Gryffindor prodigy? Everyone knew about him. He was going to be drafted onto the English National Quidditch team after he finished his exams and there wasn't a boy in Hogwarts who didn't want to be him. You inhaled sharply when the door to McGonagall's office swung open, revealing the disheveled seventh year. He ran his hand through his dark curls in frustration and then his dark brown eyes fixed on you.

"What're you looking at?" He spat, obviously frustrated as he walked by you, bumping your shoulder as he turned the corner to head back to Gryffindor tower, causing you to drop your notebook on the ground. You bent down to pick up the book, looking up as you saw Tom retreating down the hall, his back still to you. You scoffed, standing up and brushing yourself off before continuing down to the Hufflepuff basement. Being a Hufflepuff, you were very kind natured and trustworthy. You weren't angry with the popular boy, just confused as to why he would be so mean to you. You quickly forgot about the encounter and your mind was adrift with thoughts of your recent Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson as you descended down the stairs to the Hufflepuff basement. When you reached the kitchen corridor, you turned the corner to find the barrels where the entrance to the common room was hidden. You took out your wand, looking in both directions to make sure you were alone, before tapping the second barrel from the bottom in the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff. Once you retracted your wand, the barrel opened, revealing a sloped tunnel. You climbed in and slid down, landing in the .

"Y/N!" your friend, Y/F/N, shouted as she saw you wander away from the entrance. You smiled and went to join her on the couch by the fire, throwing your notebook on table next to you.

"How was Professor Sprout's class?" you ask, chuckling when you see dirt stains on her robes. She rolled her eyes, playfully pushing your shoulder.

"I hate herbology. Why in the world do i need to know about ? Like I am ever going to keep one of those," she groaned, wiping the dirt off her shoulder. "You had Defense Against the Dark Arts, right? What spell are we learning this week?" She raised her brows as she waited for you to answer.

"We are working on counter-charms. Nothing too special," you shrug, pulling your notebook back form the table and opening it to your most recent set of notes.

"I wish I was as good as you are at school. I mean you're already in advanced Arithmancy and advanced divination aren't you?" She sighed, leaning her head back onto the couch's backrest. You chuckled, leaning back as well.

"I'm not that great. I mean, I'm no ravenclaw, and besides, you get better marks than a certain someone I know," You bump her arm softly, hinting at the scene you just witnessed after class.

"Oh my god, you have dirt! Who is it?" She clapped, super excited about the new gossip. Just then, you heard the bell ring, signally that it was four o'clock.