🖇·˚ ༘ ┊͙[ chapter six ] ! ˊˎ
╰─▸ the hogwarts library, late nights, and disagreements
I DON'T USUALLY DAYDREAM AND MAYBE IT was just because I was tired and didn't get enough sleep and yet I was sat in the Slytherin common room, ignoring the world around me; in one of my own.
"Hello?" I heard a muffled and very faint voice sound in my ear, "earth to y/n?"
I jolted out of my daydream when whoever's voice it was got louder and more desperate to talk to me. I looked up to see Marcus staring back at me.
"Yes?" I said with a sigh.
"So, what do you think?" he asked.
"About?" I questioned, rubbing my eyes.
"Tryouts?" he asked, with his bushy eyebrows furrowing. "y/n, have you not been listening?"
"Oh yeah, you go ahead, do what you think is best." I dismissed him, having no idea what I was saying; I was too tired to comprehend anything he was saying or had said to me. I hadn't been getting much sleep as of late (Spencer's snoring didn't help) and Quidditch season hadn't even started yet. Tryouts were a very important day of the year and yet, here I was barely even paying attention to what my teammate had to say.
"But you're the captain, y/n. It's your call, not mine," he said. "Do you not sleep at all?"
"Not really." I yawned and sunk deeper into the leather couch, in desperate need of comfort.
"Well just meet me on the field tomorrow, we'll go over some drills or something," he suggested.
"Gotcha ya," I said and I glanced at the large steel clock on the wall. 6:51. I sighed at how the sofa had never felt so comfortable, especially when I needed a great deal of relaxation, but, with extreme reluctance, I might add, I stood up.
"Where are you going?"
"Detention." I huffed and faked a smile, "I'll see you later."
And with that, I made my way out of the great hall and down towards the dungeons.
The dungeons were cold at this time of day and awfully quiet. The halls were silent bar the sound of my heels on the cold floor.
I trudged towards Professor Snape's office at precisely 6:59 pm. I knocked on the door and in hearing the droning monotone of Snape's voice, entered the room, to see him sitting at his desk, with a tall, brunette boy sitting opposite him.
You have to be joking.
"Miss y/l/n, one minute early I see. Please take a seat and I'll explain what the two of you will be doing this evening."
I cautiously sat down on a leather chair in front of the Professor's desk and looked back at the boy next to me.
"Diggory."
"y/l/n."
"Now, you both know why you are so if you would like to follow me."
He got up from his seat and the two of us began following him out of the office. Diggory was a short distance behind the potions professor and I was struggling to keep up as my feet trudged along the stone floor. It was quiet when I walked myself to his office and yet, now there were three people in the same hallway at once, the awkwardness made it seem still. Not the peaceful kind. The tense kind. You could hear a pin drop if you wanted to.
We eventually arrived at the library and he led us to the first bookshelf to the left. The room was silent and I know it's a library and all, but it was scary almost. The room was practically empty; it was the evening after all and I assumed most students had better things to do because I certainly did.
"It has become apparent that some first years don't know how to properly return books to the correct place. You two will be correcting their mistakes until the entire shelves are appropriately organized. No magic allowed."
I huffed, "but sir, how are we meant to know which ones are incorrect? That means we would have to-"
"Take apart the entirety of the shelves, that is correct Miss y/l/n." he interrupted. "You're in for a long night, I suggest you begin now."
Once he had left, I chucked my bag on the table in protest and pulled out a desk chair which I soon slouched into.
"Calm down y/l/n, it's hardly that bad. It could be worse." Diggory said, beginning to take down books, from the endless shelves.
"That bad? That bad?" I repeated in disbelief. "Look I don't know about you, Diggory, but I actually have a life, and would rather spend my Friday night, in my common room, with people I actually like, not spending countless hours rearranging books, with you, because a few first years were careless enough to stupidly return them to wrong bloody shelf," I yelled, at a serious speed.
A few students that were quietly studying hushed me and I just glared back at them. He just shook his head and I heard him softly chuckle to himself, as he piled up a few books.
"Amused are we Diggory?"
"Do you want to return to the 'people you actually like' as soon as possible, y/l/n?"
"Of course I do, but I can't exactly get out of this one, can I? Unless Mr Smartass has any better suggestions."
"I suggest you actually help," he said.
I knew he was right, although that didn't make me want to do it any more than I did. I scoffed and finally started pulling books from the shelves aggressively.
"What did Golden Boy Diggory do to end him up in detention anyway?"
He huffed, "No one calls me that."
"Oh, I think you'll find they do." I scoffed at how naive he was acting.
He looked over at me attacking the books. I was roughly piling them up and almost throwing them out of the shelves.
"You know, I think you'll find it easier if you weren't so aggressive with them."
I smirked at him. "I'll do it how I please, thank you very much."
"Why do you feel obliged to act like a bitch all the time? No one is here, it won't ruin any 'reputation' you've made for yourself, by the way."
"People annoy me." I stated bluntly, ignoring the fact he called me a bitch, "especially people like you, Diggory."
"People like me?" He questioned, "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"You know, overrated, teacher's pets, that are constantly told by their parents, the dad specifically, that they are amazing and incredible at everything they do, that just so happen to be teenage boys, in Hufflepuff." I smiled sarcastically as I turned around to face him.
"Merlin, you talk fast."
"I take that as a compliment." I smiled sickly sweetly, and I turned back to the labour I had been forced to do.
It had been a while since we had spoken and were currently working on our third set of shelves, in silence.
"Very quiet, y/l/n."
I shrugged, "Hmm no, I just don't particularly want to talk to you that's all Diggory. Why, do you miss the sound of my voice, or specifically, your own?"
"Do not. And you don't have to call me 'Diggory' all the time, I have a name you know."
"I know that I just chose to address people by their last name unless they earn my respect. And by how irritating you are, you sir, have not."
"You really are Slytherin." He chuckled and averted his attention back to the shelves.
I gasped dramatically, "What's that supposed to mean? You know you really shouldn't refer to stereotypes when judging people." He didn't say anything but smirked in my direction as if to say that he did in fact do just that. After a moment's silence, I said, "In that case, you're such a Hufflepuff."
He cracked a smile as he looked back at me, and for a moment, when I returned the glance, I did too.