A/n : Hey! I'm back for another update, althought this is unedited. I'm sorry if I'm taking longer to update. I just had my midterm exam and school is really exhausting but here ya go. (hope you like it and please do comment and vote tysm!)
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"It can't be as bad as that, Harry. I'm sure — "
(Y/n) tried to sound as reassuring as possible the next day while they were on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. She couldn't help but notice Harry's downcast mood when she encountered them in the common room earlier. (Y/n) knew the reason why. Hermione had woken up earlier than (Y/n) and had informed her about going to the Great Hall first because she had some tasks to attend to. So, she had woken (Y/n) up to let her know. Since they hadn't had the chance to talk to each other the previous night, when (Y/n) returned from her Quidditch lesson with Harry, Hermione was already fast asleep.
"I hope so," Harry replied with a heavy sigh, a far cry from the teasing and smiling Harry of the previous night.
"Oh, come on, Harry---"
"But when has Snape ever made things better, eh?" Ron interjected, lifting one of his eyebrows and eyeing his sister incredulously.
(Y/n) rolled her eyes at Ron, who was dead set on blocking her efforts to cheer up Harry. She felt a strong urge to give Ron a good talking-to or perhaps put a spell on him because he wasn't being helpful at all. She was trying to comfort the main character of this story, Harry, who was dreading his occlumency lesson with the professor She, Ron, and Harry disliked the most. That's why (Y/n) was trying to reassure Harry that he would do well and that Snape wouldn't be a complete nuisance, but Ron just had to spoil it.
"Could you keep it down a bit? Someone might overhear," (Y/n) said, looking around at some of the students they were passing in the corridor.
"They've got ears, haven't they? Let them hear the truth," Ron replied.
"That might be true, but don't you want to help Harry learn something from Snape?"
"What if Snape's not trying to help, but trying to hurt him?"
"It's Dumbledore's orders," she said. "And if Snape wanted to hurt Harry, he wouldn't do it while we're all aware that Harry's with him for a lesson."
"That's the thing," Ron said, not letting go of the subject, "what if he's actually planning something and hurt Harry and pretend it's part of the lesson or just calling it an accident—"
"We'd figure it out, and Harry would tell us—"
"What if he wiped Harry's memory—"
"For Merlin's sake, Ron!" she half yelled, half whispered. Harry, who was just as frustrated as (Y/n), looked at her. "Think about it logically. If you don't trust Dumbledore, then think about this way, why would Snape harm someone that his master wants for himself?"
"I don't know, but you have to admit it's possible, considering how everyone seems to want to harm—"
(Y/n) shook her head, then realized that Ron might be onto something. But still... she looked at Harry, who had been silently watching the whole conversation. Would Snape really hurt Harry?
Before (Y/n) could continue her thoughts, a sudden and deliberate impact brought the three of them to an abrupt halt. It was as if a forceful gale had swept over them, leaving a disarray in its wake. Something had fallen to the cold, unforgiving stone floor, its clatter echoing in the corridor, unnoticed until now.
A deep, derisive chuckle followed, accompanied by the unmistakably cold and cutting voice she instantly recognized.
"Watch your step, Weasley, or you may find yourself in need of a spectacle shopping date with Potter --ahh --what an exhilarating prospect that would be."
Another voice chimed in, its tone sharp and mocking, "She looks utterly absurd, striding alongside Scarhead."
(Y/n) turned to confront the person who had so rudely collided with her, only to be met with a pair of cold, pale grey eyes that seemed to sneer haughtily at her. The owner of those eyes then smirked with an air of superiority, his head swivelling towards his intended destination. It was none other than Draco Malfoy, with Pansy Parkinson.
They must be dating
Ron, beside (Y/n), muttered with annoyance, "That dimwit's getting worse by the day, and that pug-faced girl with him."
(Y/n) couldn't help but notice that Malfoy's walk exuded an overpowering sense of confidence, pure-blood superiority, and wealth that was impossible to ignore. Unbeknownst to her, a pair of emerald eyes were watching her, wondering why she was looking at Malfoy with such curiosity that she didn't even hear when he asked if she was okay.
As (Y/n) was about to resume walking, she felt something underfoot, causing her to stop and glance down at the stone floor. There, nestled among the cold, unfeeling stones, was a small box, meticulously wrapped in Slytherin green and silver. Her curiosity piqued, she bent down and picked it up.
Ron, who had started to walk ahead, halted in his tracks when he noticed Harry stopping and gazing at (Y/n), who was holding the mysterious package.
"What's that?" Ron inquired, curiosity and suspicion dancing in his eyes.
"I don't know. It's like a present or something," (Y/n) replied, her brows furrowing.
Harry's gaze remained fixed on the unmarked box as he asked, his tone laced with suspicion, "Whose present is it?"
(Y/n) couldn't discern where the gift had come from; it had seemingly materialized out of thin air. She cast a quick, quizzical glance at Harry, who furrowed his brows in response.
"I don't know," she replied with uncertainty, inspecting the box in her hand. "There's no name indicating it's from someone."
"Then don't open it. Let's ask someone if they dropped it," Harry suggested, his tone filled with caution.
(Y/n) agreed with a nod and continued walking with the two. Harry kept a watchful eye on the gift, then shifted his gaze to (Y/n), who was also still examining the small package. He wasn't entirely convinced it was as innocent as it appeared. The fact that it had appeared right after Malfoy and Parkinson bumped into (Y/n) made the two of them wonder if it's just a mere coincidence.
-----
(Y/n) observed that Harry's spirits were further dampened by the persistent inquiries from members of the D.A. They would approach him in the busy corridors between classes, hopeful expressions on their faces, all asking the same question: Would there be a meeting that night?
"I'll inform you when the next one is scheduled," Harry repeated wearily, "but I can't do it tonight. I've got to go to — well — Remedial Potions..."
"You're taking Remedial Potions?" Zacharias Smith inquired, his voice dripping with superciliousness. He had cornered Harry in the entrance hall after lunch. "Good Lord, you must be dreadful. Snape doesn't usually do extra lessons, does he?"
(Y/n) struggled not to burst into laughter; the situation was genuinely amusing. However, she didn't want to appear insensitive, so she suppressed her mirth. Harry, though, saw right through her and gave her a fleeting annoyed look before shifting his attention back to Smith.
As Smith strolled away, his confidence seemingly undiminished, Ron glared after him.
"Forget it," Harry replied, his mood dispirited. "It's what everyone's going to think, isn't it? That I'm really stup—"
"Of cour—"
Before Harry and (Y/n) could complete their sentence, a voice interrupted them.
"Hi, Harry," said a voice from behind. Harry turned around to find Cho standing there.
"Oh," Harry mumbled, and from (Y/n)'s perspective, he looked rather awkward.
He looks ridiculous, (Y/n) thought, rolling her eyes, crossing her arms, and turning to walk away. For some reason, she couldn't stand seeing the two of them together.
"Hi," she heard Harry say.
"We'll be in the library, Harry," Hermione chimed in firmly. When (Y/n) looked back, she saw Hermione seizing Ron's elbow and dragging him in the direction she was heading. Hermione shot (Y/n) a look that she didn't want to see at the moment, so (Y/n) turned her gaze forward, and the last image she saw before doing so was Harry smiling broadly. It was a peculiar smile, one that (Y/n) was certain she could not conjure on his face. For some inexplicable reason, the mere thought of it unsettled her deeply.
-----
"Why must you drag me here every time Cho Chang approaches Harry? We were perfectly content where we were," Ron grumbled with irritation as the three of them settled into their chairs when they reached the library.
Hermione retrieved her books from her bag, the very same ones that (Y/n) had noticed her engrossed in during lunch earlier.
"Because it's quite apparent that Cho desires a private conversation with Harry," Hermione explained, pausing to open her books while shooting a look at Ron.
"Why should we inconvenience ourselves for her? She could have simply asked Harry to meet her somewhere more secluded," Ron retorted in a tone that suggested it was purely a 'she' problem.
"Are you truly that insensitive, Ron?" Hermione raised an eyebrow disapprovingly, conveying her knowledge of his insensitivity through her tone, even though she asked the question.
Ron simply shrugged his shoulders.
"No, he's not insensitive, Hermione; he's just plain daft," (Y/n) chimed in, sensing that the conversation was about to devolve into a dispute between Hermione and Ron, again. She knew that this part, or scene – whatever it was called – wasn't in the book. The book primarily focused on Harry and elements that explained the backstory. Therefore, she didn't need to portray her character, Sabrina, to its fullest extent when they were alone.
Nonetheless, she still needed to be cautious about what she said and did.
"Insensitive? Me? I'm merely suggesting that if Cho wanted to talk to Harry, she could have just said, 'Hey, Harry, I'd like to have a private conversation with you. Let's meet in the abandoned classroom later.' Isn't that simple? What's the point of coming to the library and enduring all this—"
"See, he's daft," (Y/n) interjected, resting her face on her palm with her elbows on the table, her fingers brushing against a small package hidden in her cloak's pocket.
"I'm not daft!" Ron protested.
"Sure you're not," she replied disinterestedly, her attention now fixed on the small box wrapped in Slytherin colors that she held in her hand.
"Hush! Lower your voice, you two. Madam Pince is watching," Hermione cautioned, placing her finger to her lips and subtly gesturing towards Madam Pince, who had drawn (Y/n)'s gaze the moment Hermione mentioned her. Madam Pince was giving them a stern look, clearly disapproving of their presence.
Ron shot an irritated glance at (Y/n) but refrained from speaking. Hermione shook her head and, after giving Ron a stern look, heaved a sigh as she began to quietly flip through the pages of her books.
This was the perfect moment for (Y/n) to inspect the present in her hand once more. She gazed at it as if it held the answer to how it had mysteriously materialized on the floor. She pondered this, and suddenly, a memory clicked into place.
It had appeared when Parkinson and Malfoy accidentally bumped into her. She recollected the faint sound of something hitting the cold stone floor and then when she took a step she had stepped on it.
"It must be Malfoy's," she whispered to herself, examining the impeccably wrapped package. Although it could have been Parkinson's, (Y/n) had a strong intuition that it belonged to Malfoy. The wrapping paper's color matched a handkerchief he had given her, and the small package looked like a gift. He had been with Pansy Parkinson earlier, and this was likely his Christmas present for her.
They were certainly dating.
She wasn't certain about Malfoy's fate in the books. The only girl she had read about him being close to was Pansy Parkinson. Since she was now in the book's world, the only people Malfoy associated with, aside from Goyle and Crabbe, were Parkinson.
So there's a huge chance his endgame is Pansy Parkinson.
Did J.K. Rowling ever reveal Draco Malfoy's romantic partner in the books though?
Would he become a Death Eater? That seemed possible and predictable, given his family's background and his own beliefs.
Did he die in the next book, or the one after, or in the final installment? (Y/n) wondered if J.K. Rowling was the type of author willing to sacrifice characters for the sake of the plot, for relatability, or to keep the story grounded in reality.
The reality of what? If that's what the author desired, it was already too late, as she had crafted an entire fantasy world.
(Y/n) decided to set aside these musings and carefully placed the small present back in her cloak's pocket. She planned to discreetly leave it on Malfoy's desk the next day. If she returned it directly, he would likely insult her. If she mentioned it to Hermione or the others, Ron might throw it into the Black Lake, and Harry would undoubtedly return it to Malfoy, inviting further ridicule. Given Harry's recent moody demeanor, she sensed it wouldn't lead to anything positive.
She shook her head and quietly rose from her seat, catching Ron's inquisitive gaze.
"Where are you off to?" he inquired.
"I'm a bit bored. I'll go find a book to read. Need me to look for anything for you?"
"No, thanks," he replied hastily.
"Okay," (Y/n) replied.
She made her way to the nearby bookshelves, venturing into the rows of books in search of something to entertain her. Since arriving in this magical world, she had already read numerous books at Hogwarts – by her estimate, she had devoured nearly half a bookshelf. She couldn't blame herself for reading so many, as she was desperate for answers about her situation, even though deep down, she knew such a book didn't exist in this world or in the real world. Nevertheless, her quest for answers had led her to encounter a multitude of peculiar and fascinating books, expanding her knowledge in this enchanting realm. She silently thanked J.K. Rowling for that.
As she continued to peruse the shelves, she found that most of the books were either already read by her or had been summarized by Hermione, leaving her with a sense of boredom.
"I think this book's interesting," a voice to her left chimed in. (Y/n) turned to see a boy with emerald green eyes, round glasses, and messy raven hair, standing taller than her —
I thought he's talking with Cho? how he is here now?
— and holding a slender book with a title that caught her eye — (Y/n) couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, that's very interesting," she said, narrowing her eyes at the book. "I didn't know you read stuff like that. I mean, who would have thought the Boy Who Lived was into this kind of stuff?" She looked back at Harry, smirking.
Harry furrowed his brows, appearing confused by her chuckle and smirk. Then, he glanced at the book's title and promptly blushed.
"Enchanting Whispers of Affection: Expressing 'I Like You' in Different Languages." is the book's title.
He gulped nervously. "I... I didn't read the title, I just... I just picked it up without bothering to read it," he stammered, clearly flustered. "It was just a way to get your attention because you seemed so focused on finding something to read, and..."
"I understand, Harry," she said, laughing at him. "You don't need to explain. I'm just kidding."
Harry rubbed his neck, still visibly embarrassed, and his face contorted in a comical expression of embarrassment, making it difficult for (Y/n) to contain her laughter. He looked rather funny to her.
"Hey, stop laughing," he said, annoyed.
This only caused (Y/n) to laugh even harder. Harry glared at her but couldn't help but smile.
"Alright, alright," (Y/n) said, shaking her head, her laughter turning into a small smile. "But I still think you should read this one." She took the book she had spotted a few seconds ago and placed it in Harry's hand. She gave him an innocent smile before winking and walking away.
She had taken a few steps when she heard Harry exclaim, half-whispered and half-yelled, "Hey!"
She began to chuckle to herself as she thought about the book's title she gave him: "Mastering the Spellbinding Art of Loving Your Witchy Girlfriend: A Guide to Understanding Witches Better."
"Did you just call me a bad boyfriend?" Harry was already at her side, looking at her.
"No, I didn't." (Y/n) replied, gazing up at Harry with feigned innocence as he furrowed his brows. They were walking towards Ron and Hermione, who were once again engaged in a heated argument. "I mean, I just picked it up without bothering to read the title," she said, using Harry's words against him.
Harry looked at her in disbelief before putting an arm around her (causing her to blush), and then his arm went across her neck as he playfully headlocked her. It wasn't too tight, but her heart was racing, so she kept tapping Harry's arm, urging him to let go.
"Let — go — of — me," she said while hitting Harry's arm against her neck.
"No," Harry replied teasingly.
"You violent git!" she said, trying to turn her head in Harry's direction. "I swear, if you don't let me go, I'm going to kick your—"
"Alright then," Harry quickly released her. (Y/n) took a deep breath and exhaled, turning her head to Harry, who asked, "Are you alright?" Without warning, she went for a hit, but Harry's quick reflexes evaded it. He dashed towards Ron and Hermione, who were visibly surprised by his sudden sprint. Harry went straight to Ron's back and crouched to his level (Ron and Hermione were still sitting).
"What happened?" Hermione asked as (Y/n) approached the three of them.
"Oh, nothing, someone was just really mature enough—" (Y/n) couldn't finish her sentence when Madam Pince approached them.
"You've been making noise since you arrived here. Out, out — OUT!" she said sternly, causing the four of them to quickly vacate the library and head to their next class. While in the corridor and walking, (Y/n) couldn't resist giving Harry a hard slap on his back, making him groan and glare at her. She informed him it was payback.
-----
"You'll be okay, Harry. I doubt he'll do anything to harm you," (Y/n) reassured Harry once again before he left. She knew he was dreading his lesson with Snape and was genuinely worried.
"I think I need to trust your words this time," Harry replied, attempting a smile. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at him. "As you should, Mr. Drama Queen."
"I'm not a drama queen."
By six o'clock that evening, Harry bid goodbye to (Y/n), Ron, and Hermione because it was time for his first Occlumency lesson with Snape.
The foreboding sensation grew stronger with each step Harry took toward Snape's office. He hesitated at the door, longing to be almost anywhere else. After gathering his courage, he knocked and pushed the door open.
The dimly lit room was filled with shelves displaying hundreds of glass jars containing eerie specimens of animals and plants suspended in potions of various colors. In one corner stood the cabinet of ingredients that Snape had once accused Harry – not entirely unfairly – of stealing. But Harry's focus shifted to the desk, where a shallow stone basin adorned with runes and symbols rested in a pool of candlelight. It was instantly recognizable to Harry – Dumbledore's Pensieve. Puzzled about its presence, he jumped when Snape's icy voice emanated from the shadows.
"Shut the door behind you, Potter."
-----
(Y/n) once again found herself in the library, joined by Ron and Hermione, as they toiled away at Umbridge's latest barrage of homework. The library was filled with other students, mostly fifth-years, seated at tables illuminated by lamps, their noses buried in books, and quills scratching busily. Outside, the sky beyond the mullioned windows steadily darkened.
The sole other audible sound was the faint squeak of one of Madam Pince's shoes as the librarian prowled the aisles menacingly, guarding her beloved books.
Hermione had explicitly warned Ron and (Y/n) before entering the library not to make any noise and instructed them not to engage in conversation to prevent any bickering that might result in them being expelled from the library before completing their work.
(Y/n) was already immersed in her homework when a pallid and agitated Harry settled down beside her, opposite Ron and Hermione.
"Harry," she exclaimed in surprise. Unable to resist, she touched his chin to inspect for any bruises or injuries. She noticed how his scar was prominently visible at the moment, and she observed Harry gazing out of the window at his reflection before looking back at her, breathing heavily. "You look so pale, almost like a ghost!" She breathed a sigh of relief when she was sure he wasn't injured.
But didn't stop her from worrying over him.
"How did it go?" Hermione whispered, her expression showing concern. "Are you all right, Harry?"
(Y/n) released his chin to allow him to face Hermione better.
"Yeah... I'm fine, I dunno," Harry responded impatiently, wincing. (Y/n) noticed the pained expression he wore, similar to when his scar hurt. "Listen... I've just realized something," Harry continued.
The three of them turned their attention to him.
And Harry proceeded to recount what he had seen and deduced during his Occlumency lesson with Snape. It was about the recurring dream he had been experiencing involving a mysterious door.
"So... are you saying..." Ron whispered as Madam Pince swept past, emitting a faint squeak, "that the weapon – the thing You-Know-Who's after – is in the Ministry of Magic?"
"In the Department of Mysteries, it's got to be," Harry whispered. "I saw that door when your dad took me down to the courtrooms for my hearing, and it's definitely the same one he was guarding when the snake bit him."
Hermione let out a long, slow sigh, while (Y/n) appeared to have a realization of her own.
"Of course," Hermione breathed.
"Of course what?" Ron asked rather impatiently.
"Ron, think about it... Sturgis Podmore was trying to get through a door at the Ministry of Magic. It must have been that one. It's too much of a coincidence!"
"How come Sturgis was trying to break in when he's on our side?" Ron inquired.
"Well, I don't know," Hermione admitted. "That is a bit odd."
(Y/n) simply listened to their conversation.
"So, what's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked Ron and (Y/n). "Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?"
"All Sabrina and I know is they call the people who work in there 'Unspeakables,'" said Ron, frowning, looking at (Y/n) for confirmation. When she nodded, he continued, "Because no one really seems to know what they do – it's a weird place to have a weapon."
"I don't know, but I think that's the perfect place to hide the weapon," said (Y/n), and Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, and it's not weird at all, it makes perfect sense," Hermione added. "It's probably something top secret that the Ministry has been developing, I expect... Harry, are you sure you're all right?"
Harry had just run both his hands firmly over his forehead as if trying to smooth it out.
"Yeah... fine..." he replied, lowering his trembling hands. (Y/n) knew he was lying – he was far from fine. "I just feel a bit... I don't like Occlumency much." She gently placed her hands on Harry's forehead and began massaging it, despite the awkwardness due to their height difference. Harry closed his eyes and breathed slowly.
(Y/n) knew that Occlumency was like mind-reading, delving into someone's thoughts, and she had read about how painful it could be, often causing headaches, especially if it was your first time and you were trying to defend against it. Harry must have seen Cedric Diggory again and his parents, and that must have been tough for him.
"I expect anyone would feel shaky if they'd had their mind attacked over and over again," Hermione said sympathetically after a moment, looking at Harry.
"Look, let's get back to the common room; we'll be more comfortable there, and Harry can rest," (Y/n) suggested.
But the common room was bustling with activity, filled with the sounds of laughter and excitement. Fred and George were showcasing their latest piece of joke shop merchandise.
"Headless Hats!" George exclaimed, waving a pointed hat adorned with a fluffy pink feather for the students to see. "Two Galleons each, watch Fred now!"
Fred confidently placed the hat on his head, grinning. At first, he simply looked rather foolish, but then both the hat and his head disappeared. Several girls let out screams, but everyone else burst into laughter, including (Y/n), who was amazed by the spectacle.
"And off again!" George shouted, and Fred's hand fumbled for a moment in what seemed to be thin air over his shoulder, before his head reappeared as he removed the pink-feathered hat.
"How do those hats work, then?" Hermione inquired, her attention diverted from her homework as she watched Fred and George. "I mean, obviously it's some kind of Invisibility Spell, but it's rather clever to have extended the field of invisibility beyond the boundaries of the charmed object... I'd imagine the charm wouldn't have a very long life, though."
"That's what I'm curious about too, but once again, it's Fred and George," (Y/n) remarked, her eyes gleaming with fascination. She cast a quick glance at Harry, who remained silent, his face still displaying signs of discomfort.
"Still not feeling better?" she inquired gently, studying Harry's pale complexion.
He nodded, his expression strained.
"I'm going to have to do this tomorrow," Harry muttered, clearly unhappy about the prospect. He pushed the books he had just taken out of his bag back inside.
"If you want, I'll do it for you," (Y/n) offered with a warm smile.
"No thanks," Harry replied, shaking his head. "You've been a tremendous help with my homework before, but thanks for the offer." His determination was evident, and (Y/n) nodded in understanding.
"Well, write it in your homework planner then!" Hermione encouraged, her eyes filled with earnest enthusiasm. "So you don't forget!"
Harry and Ron exchanged glances as Harry reached into his bag, retrieved the planner, and opened it with a hint of reluctance.
"Don't leave it till later, you big second-rater," the planner chastised, and Harry obediently scribbled down Umbridge's homework. Hermione beamed at the planner's stern words.
"I think I'll go to bed," Harry announced, as he packed the homework planner back into his bag. Leaning in closer to (Y/n)'s ear, he whispered, "Remind me to toss this homework planner into the fire tomorrow." (Y/n) shot him a playful glare but then smiled as she whispered back, "That's Hermione's present for you." Harry nodded and responded, "Well, even though I hate it, I'll keep it as her gift. At least she remembered to give me one, unlike someone." He said this playfully, causing (Y/n) to feel a tinge of embarrassment for not having given him a present. Before she could respond, Harry continued, "I won't be able to meet you later for our Quidditch lesson, hope that's okay with you."
(Y/n) regarded him with no hard feelings, her gaze filled with understanding. "Of course, I'd rather you rest,"
"Thanks,"
"Anytime."
Harry offered her a small, appreciative smile, which brought a faint blush to her cheeks.
"See you tomorrow then, goodnight," he said.
"Yeah, see you, goodnight," she replied.
With a concerned expression, (Y/n) kept her eyes on Harry as he navigated his way across the lively common room, skillfully avoiding George, who attempted to playfully place a Headless Hat on him. Harry finally reached the calm and quiet of the stone staircase leading to the boys' dormitories.
(Y/n) continued to watch him until he disappeared from her view. She couldn't tear her gaze away, her mind filled with concerns for him. She knew he wouldn't meet a tragic fate, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be in harm's way. She found it somewhat amusing how her worry escalated from him not feeling well to thoughts of death and danger. Why was she so concerned about the protagonist of this story when it was clear he would always come out safe?
Shouldn't she be more worried about herself, considering she didn't know when she would leave this world? or would she be able to leave this world? And what was Harry to her that she worried about him to this extent?
"Sabrina? SABRINA!" Ron's urgent shout snapped (Y/n) out of her thoughts. She turned to him, her expression quizzical.
"Yeah?"
"I asked if you're done with your homework?" Ron inquired with an expectant look.
"Oh, right, homework... I'm not done yet," she replied, and Ron's expression fell.
"Are you okay?" Hermione inquired, concern in her eyes.
"Yeah," (Y/n) replied, her gaze drifting to her unfinished homework. "Just worried..."
"About Harry?" Hermione asked.
(Y/n) took a moment to respond before finally nodding.
"Well, I am too," Hermione admitted. "And you know what I'm thinking? His defenses might be low at the moment, after you know... Snape's been in his mind." Hermione's worry mirrored (Y/n)'s own.
"I'm sure he'll be okay," Ron said with a reassuring smile, trying to lift the spirits of (Y/n) and Hermione. "You know Harry; it will help him," he added.
(Y/n) knew Ron was right, but the concern for Harry continued to weigh on her. She sighed and attempted to concentrate on her homework for a few moments, but it was futile. The worry nagged at her, and she couldn't ignore it any longer. Standing up from her seat, she addressed the two.
"I'll check up on Harry, just to be sure he's alright. He looks quite unwell. I'll be back in a moment once I've confirmed everything is fine," she assured them. Without waiting for Ron and Hermione's response, she swiftly made her way across the common room and ascended the stone staircase leading to the boys' dormitory.
When she reached the door of Ron and Harry's dormitory, (Y/n) wasted no time. With determination, she pushed it open, determined to find out if Harry was alright.
*
Maniacal laughter reverberated in Harry's ears, filling him with an overwhelming sense of happiness he hadn't experienced in a long while. He felt jubilant, ecstatic, and triumphant, as if something truly incredible had occurred.
"Harry? HARRY!" Someone's voice broke through his euphoria, followed by a sharp smack across his face. The manic laughter was abruptly interrupted by a cry of pain. The elation was draining away, but the laughter persisted.
Slowly, Harry opened his eyes, and a startling realization struck him – the wild laughter was pouring out of his own mouth. As soon as he became aware of this, the laughter ceased, leaving Harry panting on the floor, gazing up at the ceiling, his scar throbbing painfully. Sabrina was leaning over him, her expression filled with concern.
"What happened?" she inquired, her voice laced with worry.
"I... dunno..." Harry gasped, struggling to sit up. "He's really happy... really happy..."
"You-Know-Who is?"
"Something good has happened," Harry muttered, still trembling and feeling sick. "Something he's been hoping for."
The words flowed from him, much like he had in the Gryffindor changing room, as if a stranger were speaking through his mouth. Yet, he knew they were the truth. Harry took deep breaths, attempting to regain his composure and prevent himself from vomiting in front of Sabrina. He was thankful that Dean and Seamus were not present to witness this episode.
"What are you doing here, by the way?" Harry inquired, and he was certain Sabrina had hit him, given how much his cheeks hurt.
It took Sabrina a few moments to respond, and in the dimly lit room, Harry could discern a faint blush on her face for some reason.
"I... I was worried, and... that's why I came to check up on you," Sabrina explained in a soft voice as she helped Harry to his feet. "And Hermione mentioned that your defenses might be low at the moment, after Snape has been meddling with your mind... Still, I suppose it'll be beneficial in the long run, won't it?"
She gazed at Harry while assisting him towards his bed. Harry nodded, although he lacked conviction. "Thanks," he said, which seemed to puzzle Sabrina. He clarified, "Thanks for worrying about me." Their eyes met.
"Well, I'm not the only one who's concerned for you," Sabrina replied.
"I know... but you're the only one who's made me feel that someone's concern isn't a bad thing," Harry added, looking at her earnestly.
Sabrina fell into a brief silence, pondering Harry's words, before finally offering a warm smile. "You're the only one who thinks that people worrying about you is a burden for them."
Harry shook his head gently. "I don't think that way, but you know I'm just not accustomed to having everyone worry about me."
"You don't need to get used to it; you need to accept that it's just how important you are to someone, and it's not a bad thing," Sabrina reassured him.
Harry responded with a small smile and patted the spot next to him. "You can sit here," he suggested.
Sabrina cleared her throat, hesitating. "I'm fine standing here, you know."
"But I'm not fine with you standing," Harry said. Sabrina met his gaze, and in the dimly lit room, his eyes seemed even more captivating in the moonlight.
"Alright, then," she agreed, taking a seat beside him. "How are you feeling, anyway?"
"My body's aching all over from falling to the floor, but you know what's aching more?" Harry asked.
"What?" Sabrina responded, her concern growing.
"This," he pointed to the left side of his cheek, "why did you punch me?" he asked playfully, glaring at her.
"Well, you were laughing like a maniac, and I couldn't wake you up. That was the only thing I could think of at the moment. Don't be mad at me," she replied, making Harry chuckle. When she saw him chuckling, she couldn't help but chuckle as well.
"Where's your necklace?" Harry inquired after their laughter subsided.
"Oh, it's inside my cloak."
"Right," Harry said. "Why?"
Sabrina asked, "Why what?"
"Nothing," he replied.
"I'm wearing it, you know. It's just hidden beneath my cloak."
"I know," Harry said, his voice filled with relief.
"You think I'm not wearing it, don't you?"
"No," Harry insisted.
"What a liar."
"I'm not lying."
"Yeah, sure," Sabrina teased.
A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of Harry's voice.
"I wonder what could have happened to make Voldemort so happy in fourteen years."
Sabrina didn't immediately respond, lost in her own thoughts. Harry noticed her deep in contemplation, gazing towards the front door. Her long, curly hair was neatly braided, with a few stray strands framing her face. Her nose was perfectly shaped, her lashes were thick, curly, and long, and her freckles, though not very visible in the dimly lit room, were something Harry had always admired about her. He found her extremely pretty and he was honest about that to himself.
She's my friend of course I would think she's pretty.
Sabrina was undoubtedly his best friend, right alongside Ron and Hermione. Until that moment, Harry had always thought it wrong to have a favorite friend; it seemed unfair, and he imagined he wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of such preferences.
Yet, at this particular moment, a revelation dawned upon him – he found himself gravitating more towards Sabrina than Ron and Hermione. This unexpected sentiment stayed hidden deep within him, a secret he intended to safeguard, especially appreciative that neither of his other two friends possessed the skill of Occlumency. It was a secret he was determined to keep to himself.