001
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1994
Maybe in another universe, love wouldn't be my death. But unfortunately, it isn't this universe, and I'd have to make of what I possess.
I suppose I have a healthy coping mechanism, or some might say. Spending nights in the astronomy tower, alone, gazing at the moon and stars. Not the most practical when your dorms are located below ground level, but I'd argue it's great exercise after one might sneak a snack from the kitchen.
Often not, I'd see the stars dancing. Makes me want to dance with them at times.
Tonight, like every other night, my feet, filled with fatigue, dragged me up the stairs that lead up to the tower.
Surprisingly, I wasn't the only wondering soul who made their way to the top.
Theodore Nott idly sits down on my usual spot, puffing a smoke from his cigarette. Which, unfortunately, leads to me inhaling said puff and coughing like a madman.
He turns to look my way, noticing my presence. "I'm sorry," I mutter a quick apology. Turning to leave. Maybe I should find another spot to stargaze.
"Don't leave," he mutters, and I turn to look at him.
"I don't mind," he says, avoiding my gaze, looking at the stars instead, and puffing another cloud of smoke.
I let out a smaller cough this time, as I walked up to sit beside him.
A gust of strong wind blew, causing me to wrap my cardigan tighter around myself.
Aside from my small coughs here and there; none of us uttered a word. But it was rather comforting. It was a new concept to me, stargazing with another. The stars sparkled even brighter tonight as if they were happy too.
Maybe stargazing isn't a thing you'd do alone.
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DADA was the only thing blocking me from eating. Thankfully, Professor Moody wrapped up the class earlier this time.
"Y/N!" Lucy, my best friend, runs up to me and hugs my arm as I walk out of the classroom. "What's got you excited today?" I smile at her as we walk side by side to the great hall.
"Lunch," she beams at me.
"Really? Lunch?" I let out a humored chuckle. "What?" she says sitting down beside me. "It's the only thing that makes me excited these days," we laugh together.
Lucy munches on a drumstick, "Why is Nott staring at us?" she comments.
"Huh?" I looked at her with confusion and she motioned for me to look in front of us, the Slytherin table. And low and behold I looked straight ahead to Nott with his friend group on the table. But it turns out, Nott was the only one looking at us whilst his friend group chittered and chattered about who knows what.
"My mistake, staring at you," she adds. I look back at her. She takes another bite at her chicken and shrugs her shoulder.
I turn to look back at Nott but it seems like he was already looking at me.
"He might fancy you, you know?" she teases. "I doubt it," I mutter, not breaking eye contact with Nott.
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When I was young, I may have already practiced potions when I mixed my mum's shampoos every bath time. But now I realize that potions aren't all about mixing shampoos.
"Faster students we don't have the whole decade, get to your assigned seats with your new potion partners," Professor Snape announces, his tone sharp and Precise.
Nonetheless, I sit in my normal spot and await for my potion partner to find me.
"So we're partners huh?" a smooth voice speaks to me, making me look up at him.
Theodore Nott.
Stands there in front of me, clutching his satchel.
"Do you mind?" he asks me if he can sit. "Oh, not at all," I motion him to the chair beside me.
"This will be your partners for the whole duration of the year," Professor Snape speaks. "Under no circumstances will any of you be allowed to change your said partners nor do your activities solo,"
I glance at Nott, noticing him playing with his rings. "Can anybody tell us the uses of a 'Wit- Sharpening potion'?" Snape asks. I raise my hand to answer along with Granger. "Yes, Miss Montague?" he picks me.
"The Wit-Sharpening Potion is a magical brew designed to enhance mental clarity, focus, and cognitive agility. When consumed, it temporarily boosts the drinker's mental faculties, allowing for quicker thinking, improved problem-solving, and heightened memory recall," I answer.
"The potion might also help in overcoming mental fatigue or sluggishness, making it a valuable tool in both academic and strategic settings. However, overreliance on it could lead to a diminished ability to sharpen one's wit naturally, so it's generally best used sparingly and when truly needed," Nott chimes in.
Professor Snape eyes him. "Thank you, Miss Montague and Sir Nott," then looks towards all of us. "I expect you all to craft said potion by the end of the period, failure to do so will have its consequences," he announces, flaring his cape as he walks to each one of us.
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Safe to say, Nott carried our whole project as I just stood there like a house elf waiting for his instructions on what ingredients to get next.
I didn't mind it though. Professor Snape praised our, well his, work.
I went back to my dorm, grabbed my dance bag from the floor, hurriedly made my way to the steps of the studio, and made my way inside.
Sunlight spills across the polished wooden floors, creating warm, golden patches that seem to dance along with each movement. The air is filled with a delicate mix of rosin and faint perfume.
Mirrors line one wall, reaching from floor to ceiling, reflecting both the dancers and the spaciousness of the room, while delicate curtains billow at the windows. Wooden barres stretch along the mirrored walls, worn smooth by countless hands and endless hours of practice. Light scuffs on the floor mark the traces of pirouettes and grand jetés, each telling a silent story of hard work and resilience.
In one corner, a piano waits, its soft keys ready to accompany the dancers' steps, adding a rhythm that fills the room with life.
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The moon greeted me again shining through as I placed my pointe inside my bag, waving goodbye to my classmates.
I headed into my dorm, doing my nightly routine as soon as I stepped into its wooden floors. I didn't mind sharing my dorm with anyone. It's what my mum had told me in my first year.
"Being with your 'friends' 24/7 would make you lose your focus Y/N," I vividly remember her scolding me.
I changed into my pajamas and sat down on my table that was positioned in front of the window.
The table is dark mahogany, worn and polished to a subtle shine, exuding an air of old-world charm. A brass lamp casts a warm, amber glow over leather-bound books stacked beside an open notebook, where a fountain pen rests, inked and ready.
I accio-ed a steaming cup of coffee beside my stacks of parchment papers. A risky action to take, but I'm not clumsy enough to make that accident, I'm sure.
A small candle and a sprig of dried lavender are placed at the left side of the table adding a cozy, scholarly touch, creating the perfect space for quiet study and contemplation.
I dipped my quill once more in my jar of ink. Nearly done with my charms essay. I placed my quill on the side once I was done and grabbed my parchment admiring the work that I had just done.
I wonder if Nott might be up the tower right now.
Who am I kidding? Why am I thinking of Nott instead of studying at this moment?
It wouldn't hurt a little to take a trip to the astronomy tower though.
I deliberated for a second and finally concluded that I might want a break once in a while.
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Climbing the astronomy tower, my mind screaming like a broken record in my mum's voice. "What are you doing," and "You should be studying right now,"
"I was wondering when you'd come," Nott glances my way as he just sat on the place, my place, where I caught him last night, puffing a cloud of smoke from his cigarette like he normally does.
"You waited for me?" I asked, my feet not budging. I let out a cough.
To which he only replied with a shrug and another smoke. I swear this guy lives off cigarettes.
Like it was a routine, my feet led itself beside Nott and I found myself sitting beside him again. In silence. Again. I don't mind it though; it's comforting.
From that night on, we met in the tower under the cover of stars, drawn together by something unspoken. Though we exchange no words, a quiet understanding settles between us, a comfort in shared solitude.
Each evening, we linger side by side, letting the silence fill with unspoken thoughts and the soft, shifting shadows of the night. Him, smoking -- me, coughing, and reading.