Y/N and Draco occupied a prominent spot on the platform, their dueling wands poised in the air as they engaged in an animated exchange of charms and spells. The air crackled with magic as their mock-duel unfolded, each incantation met with a counter-spell, and each move punctuated by a flurry of gestures.
Snape's watchful gaze was fixed upon them, his keen eyes following every twist and turn of their conjurations. All eyes were drawn to the spectacle, the competitive fervor of their duel capturing the attention of onlookers.
As first-years, their knowledge of spells was limited, and this duel was an exercise in showcasing the basics they had mastered. The platform seemed to transform into a makeshift battleground, their determination evident in each flick of their wands. The audience remained captivated, witnessing a display of skill and camaraderie that underscored the spirit of Hogwarts.
The duel eventually reached its climax, with Y/N emerging as the triumphant victor. Her wand was raised high in the air, a gesture of pride and accomplishment that drew nods of approval from Snape himself. He approached the duo, a measured acknowledgment in his demeanor.
"Mr. Malfoy, a decent showing," Snape's praise was delivered with a touch of gravitas, and Draco's initial frown gave way to a genuine smile, his pride evident in the recognition he had received.
"Miss Y/N, not bad for a girl," Snape's comment, however, carried a note of nonchalance. He did not extend the same congratulatory sentiment to Y/N, and the weight of his words lingered in the air.
Y/N's reaction was immediate, her gaze narrowing slightly as she regarded the professor with a small scowl. She scoffed under her breath as she adjusted her robes, the moment a mixture of triumph and subtle annoyance.
Draco, perceptive as ever, whispered a reassurance to Y/N, his voice a hushed exchange amidst the fading echoes of their duel. His words held a tinge of playfulness as he addressed her concerns.
"Don't take it too personally, Y/N," he offered, his own robes being donned as he continued.
"It's not because you're a girl, if that's what you're thinking. Snape just... favors me more," his teasing tone carried a bantering quality, a camaraderie that sought to ease her agitation.
However, Y/N's response was a roll of her eyes, a gesture that revealed her unwillingness to entertain such explanations. The playful back-and-forth held little sway in the face of her clearheadedness. She started to walk away, her strides a blend of determination and a hint of defiance.
✴✴✴✴✴
Seated within the Charms Classroom, Y/N's anticipation grew as Professor Flitwick placed the graded papers before them. The air buzzed with a mix of tension and excitement, the culmination of their efforts captured within those pages.
"I bet I scored higher than you," Hermione's voice cut through the atmosphere, a confident assertion that drew Y/N's attention. She turned her gaze towards Hermione, intrigued by the challenge presented.
"Is that so?" Y/N countered, a subtle spark of competitiveness igniting within her.
"Yes, really," Hermione's response was unwavering, her determination mirrored in her expression. Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at her unwavering spirit.
"Don't get too cocky, Granger," Y/N's taunt was light-hearted, a playful nudge to their friendly rivalry. Hermione responded with an indignant huff, her competitive edge fully on display.
"Oh please. I've worked harder than anyone else here, and you haven't worked at all. I doubt you have anything higher than a 65," Hermione's words were laden with a mixture of frustration and conviction. She was staunchly defending her dedication and effort, refusing to concede any ground.
"That's the thing, I'm naturally talented. Naturally amazing and a genius. While you..." Y/N's teasing tone hung in the air, her words a gentle jab at Hermione's perfectionist tendencies. The exchange embodied the good-natured banter that colored their interactions, a testament to the camaraderie that had formed between them.
Y/N's gaze finally shifted to her paper, her heart quickening as she saw her score displayed prominently in bold red ink, encircled for emphasis. "100/100," the numbers proclaimed, a triumphant smile tugging at Y/N's lips.
The satisfaction of her achievement was evident, and the moment was a subtle celebration of her academic prowess. The classroom held an air of accomplishment, and as their interaction continued, it was underscored by the shared pursuit of excellence that defined their time at Hogwarts.
Y/N's gaze turned towards Hermione, who sported a smug smirk, proudly displaying her paper for all to see. The numbers "99/100" graced the page, a testament to Hermione's accomplishment. Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Hermione's evident satisfaction, rolling her eyes playfully in response.
"What'd you get?" Hermione's curiosity cut through the air, a challenge veiled in her inquiry.
"Guess," Y/N replied with a deadpan tone, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. Hermione raised an eyebrow in response, her expression a mixture of intrigue and amusement. The playful banter between them continued until the interruption of Professor Flitwick's voice cut through their exchange.
"Oh, congratulations to Miss Crimson for achieving the highest score. Not just the highest, but a perfect score! Truly remarkable!" Flitwick's jubilant announcement filled the room with a sense of accomplishment, drawing all attention towards Y/N. Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief, her pride visibly deflating as she let out a series of indignant scoffs.
"You got a 100?" Hermione's incredulity was palpable, her surprise mixed with a hint of annoyance.
Y/N responded with a nonchalant shrug, a casual attitude masking the pride she felt. "He said it. Not me," she offered with a hum, her words a playful reminder of Flitwick's announcement. Hermione's glare only deepened in response, her determination to excel unswayed.
"You'll pay for this," Hermione grumbled under her breath, a hint of challenge and rivalry evident in her tone.
"Make me," Y/N retorted, her response carrying a touch of playful defiance.
"Oh, I will." Hermione fired back. "Just you wait."
"I'll be waiting."
"Don't count on it."
✴✴✴✴✴
Y/N's footsteps reverberated softly through the corridors, the silvery moonlight filtering through the windows casting elongated shadows as she stealthily ventured out of her dormitory. Her purpose was clear—to assist Draco in his impending duel, a situation she considered rather foolish. The rhythmic, hushed cadence of her steps ensured her movements were barely discernible.
Draco's cryptic instructions had led her to the trophy room, where the duel was set to unfold. Ron had been chosen as Harry's second, a pairing that seemed, at least to Y/N, as an imbalanced contest.
Neither Ron nor Harry were noted for their exceptional academic achievements, instead holding positions within the realm of averageness, according to Y/N's assessment. With a gentle push, the door to the trophy room creaked open, granting Y/N entry into the dimly illuminated space.
Puzzlement furrowed Y/N's brows as she surveyed the scene—Neville, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all present, yet there was no sign of Draco.
"Where's Draco?" Her query slipped from her lips as the door closed softly behind her. Hermione's arms crossed over her chest as she directed her ire towards Y/N.
"You!" Hermione's exclamation was a mixture of accusation and frustration.
"Me," Y/N replied, her tone infused with a mixture of curiosity and calm.
"Knock some sense into your friend and tell him to halt this foolish duel!" Hermione's reproach continued unabated. "Honestly, do you ever tire of perpetually inviting trouble upon yourselves?" The intensity in Hermione's gaze remained steadfast as Y/N was subjected to her verbal lashing.
Y/N attempted to interject, to offer her side of the story, but Hermione's torrent of words remained unceasing. Neville, Harry, and Ron stood by, witnessing the clash of wills between the two girls.
"Don't you care about the well-being of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw? Or does your concern only extend to yourselves?" Hermione's rhetoric carried a weight of righteousness.
"I don't want Slytherin to triumph in the House Cup, and all the hard-earned points I've garnered from Professor McGonagall for understanding spell transmutation will be squandered!" Her final accusation hung in the air, the tension between the two girls palpable.
Y/N's exasperation was palpable as she hissed at Hermione to cease her tirade. A push that was a tad too forceful sent the girl stumbling back, the physical closeness inadvertently painting a rosy hue across Y/N's cheeks.
"I'm merely a second in this endeavor; don't place the blame on me," Y/N retorted with a tinge of irritation. She was about to deny any knowledge of Draco's whereabouts when the sound of approaching footsteps caused her to halt her words.
"Sniff around, my sweet. They might be lurking around in the corner," Filch's gruff voice resounded, prompting a quick exchange of glances between Y/N and Hermione. Following Harry's lead, the group moved to follow him. Silently, they converged on a nearby door, which led them further away from Filch's searching gaze.
With Neville's robes barely rounding the corner, a creaking sound signaled Filch's entrance. "They're in here somewhere," he grumbled, Y/N's heart accelerating in response. "Probably hiding," his muttered words set Y/N on edge.
"Follow Harry," Y/N mouthed, and the group hustled down a lengthy corridor flanked by rows of iron armor. Filch's voice grew ominously nearer. Unexpectedly, Neville's frightened squeal rent the air as he careened into a run, colliding with Ron and crashing into a suit of armor.
The metallic clamor reverberated through the room, Y/N shooting the two an admonishing glare. A mumbled expletive escaped her lips, a testament to her frustration.
"Run!" Harry's command cut through the tension, prompting the group into action.
They sprinted down the gallery of armor, the echoes of their frantic footsteps punctuating the urgency of their escape. Fear propelled them forward, the notion of being caught by Filch fueling their haste. Swinging around a doorpost, they bolted down one corridor, then another.
Harry led the charge, his strides marked by a mix of determination and uncertainty. Y/N, her breath steady and composed, pushed past him, taking the lead as she surged ahead. A brief pause allowed the four to catch their breath, their panting a testament to their exertions.
Surveying the surroundings, Y/N identified a concealed passageway. Without hesitation, she plunged forward, tearing through it as if her very determination propelled her. Emerging near the charms classroom, a considerable distance from the trophy room, Y/N's demeanor remained steadfast and unruffled.
"Well, we've lost him, atleast." Harry gasped, his back pressing against the wall as he fought to regain his breath. In contrast, Y/N seemed almost unaffected, her composure unshaken, her lungs seemingly untouched by their sprint.
Neville's figure was bent double, the strain evident in his gasps and wheezes, a stark contrast to Harry's relatively composed state. Y/N, with her faint and measured breaths, appeared almost unfazed. Drops of saliva accompanied Neville's labored breaths, expelled in the midst of his relentless panting.
"I... told... you!" Hermione scolded, each word punctuated by her attempts to catch her own breath. Her hand swiped across her forehead, wiping away the sheen of sweat. Her voice was weary, almost drained. "I... told... you!" she reiterated, the message clear in her exasperated tone.
"We need to make our way back to the dorms," Ron interjected.
"Oh, brilliant observation, Mr. Obvious. Such an insightful revelation," Y/N retorted, her sarcasm dripping from her words. Ron's irritated glare met her comment head-on.
"Don't talk to him like that," Harry snapped, his tone firm, while Y/N responded with a dismissive roll of her eyes.
"I'll talk to anyone how I please," she sneered, her defiance palpable.
"Enough!" Hermione's voice cut through the tension. "Malfoy tricked you," she stated flatly, her breath catching between syllables. Her hands clung to her chest, her breathing still irregular. "Both of you," she added, her gaze shifting between Y/N and Harry.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "You do realize that, don't you? I trust you're not oblivious, Crimson," Hermione continued, her sneer almost taunting. Y/N's eyes rolled skyward, an implicit acknowledgment of the statement.
"Why would he trick me?" Y/N's skepticism was evident.
"Because he's Malfoy. Did you honestly think he was your friend?" Hermione's retort held a bite of truth, causing Y/N's jaw to clench.
"He had no intention of meeting Harry. He set you up, but in a way that wouldn't be glaringly obvious. Filch was tipped off, or else he wouldn't have known someone would be in the trophy room," Hermione explained, her words hitting home.
While Y/N recognized the logic in Hermione's words, she refused to admit it. "I'm leaving," Y/N declared tersely, stepping forward, the rest of the group trailing behind her. However, their retreat was promptly halted by the rattling of a doorknob, accompanied by an object being hurled out of the nearby classroom.
It was Peeves.
Spotting them, the poltergeist's delight was palpable. "Peeves, if you don't keep quiet, I'll—" Y/N began to threaten.
"What? Kill me? Already dead, my dear!" Peeves mocked with a manic cackle.
Y/N's irritation flared; she detested the likes of Peeves, those who never took anything seriously, the clowns of the world. The poltergeist's laughter rang out as he hovered over the Ravenclaw and the four Gryffindors.
"Out and about at midnight, little firsties?" he teased, his tongue clicking in amusement. "Naughty, naughty. Getting caughtie, are we?" he chimed.
"Shut up!" Y/N's retort was sharp, her patience dwindling.
"Should tell Filch, should I?" Peeves mused, adopting a falsely saintly tone while his eyes sparkled with mischief. "All for your own good."
"Get out of the way!" Y/N snapped, raising her fist in a futile attempt to strike Peeves—a mistake that would prove costly.
"Students out of bed!" Peeves bellowed. "Students out of bed in the charms corridor!" he proclaimed, the sense of urgency and chaos thick in the air.
Ducking under Peeves, Y/N and the others bolted into action, racing forward as they reached the end of the corridor. A locked door loomed before them, their escape path barricaded.
"This is it," Ron moaned, a sense of despair creeping into his tone, while Y/N futilely pushed against the locked door.
"We're finished!" Ron's weak proclamation carried a tone of resignation. "The end," he continued to lament as footsteps grew nearer, the ominous sound of Filch's approach.
Hermione intervened, her voice a mix of determination and exasperation. "Oh, move over!" she snapped, her hands pushing the group away as she grasped Y/N's wand, her incantation swift and practiced.
"Alohomora," she chanted, the lock responding with a click as the door swung open. The five hurried through the door, slamming it shut just in time to evade Filch's prying eyes.
Y/N's ear pressed against the door, capturing the sound of Filch's gruff voice emanating from the other side. "Which way did they go, Peeves?" his inquiry rang out, laced with urgency and demand. "Tell me quickly!" he snapped.
"Say please," Peeves' response held a mischievous edge.
"Don't toy with me, Peeves," Filch's tone was sharp, his patience wearing thin.
"Shan't say anything unless you say please," Peeves' sing-song voice danced in the air.
"All right... please," Filch's grumble contained a hint of reluctant desperation.
"Nothing!" Peeves' retort came with a triumphant glee. "Haha, I told you I wouldn't say anything!" he teased, his cackle echoing as he made a swift exit. Filch's frustrated curses followed him, and the sound of his departing footsteps indicated that the coast was clear. Y/N offered a subtle nod to signal the group that Filch had left.
"He's gone," Y/N whispered softly.
"He believes the door is locked," Harry added, Hermione's eyes rolled at his observation.
"It was locked," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "And for good reason," she emphasized, the five of them turning around, exhaling a collective breath of relief. However, their relief was short-lived, as they came to a sudden halt.
For a brief moment, Y/N questioned if this was some surreal dream. They weren't within the confines of a room, as she had initially assumed. Instead, they found themselves standing in the corridor—the forbidden corridor, situated on the third floor. Instantly, the reason for its prohibition became starkly evident.
Her instincts urged her to take a step back, her gaze locked onto the colossal and monstrous creature that loomed before them. The massive canine possessed three menacing heads, its immense form spanning from floor to ceiling. The growls directed their way instilled a primal fear, Y/N's breath catching as her hands instinctively reached for the doorknob.
The beasts' mouths dripped with saliva, their jagged fangs exposed in a stark display of menace. A tension-laden stillness settled as the hulking creature loomed over them, its six penetrating eyes trained upon the intruders. The guttural rumble of growls reverberated through the air, echoing within Y/N's ears.
In a split-second decision born from the primal instinct to survive, Y/N chose flight over fight. At that very moment, Filch remained stationed on the other side of the door—a more favorable option than confronting the embodiment of death that stood before them. Her hand found the doorknob, and with a quick push, the door swung open.
While Filch's presence was absent, Y/N's focus was undeterred as she sprinted forward, the Gryffindors following in hot pursuit. The cacophony of thunderous barks from the three-headed canine resonated through the corridor, propelling them onward in a frenzied race for escape.
TO BE CONTINUED...