002
TW: Mentions of SH
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When I was born, I'd already developed an appetite and hunger for validation. Or maybe it was what my mother consumed when I was in her.
Muggle studies have always interested me, though I'm not one myself. Having Charity Burbage as your professor is definitely a plus.
The classroom was brightly lit, sunlight streaming in through wide windows that framed the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts. The desks were arranged in a circle rather than rows, a choice Professor Charity Burbage had insisted on so that every student could see each other's faces.
There she stood in the center whilst holding a leather book, with an infectious smile.
"Today," she began, her eyes twinkling, "we're going to discuss someone that muggles consider one of their greatest writers: William Shakespeare. Now, you might ask, 'What does an old Muggle playwright have to do with us?' And I'll tell you—Shakespeare understood love, just as we do. He captured its beauty, its heartache, its power to transcend time and, perhaps, even magic itself."
"Muggles are stupid for dying for love, I might say," Draco comments, and in return, his friends sneer.
Tell me about it.
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I'd probably not survive a zombie apocalypse in Hogwarts, but for sure others will survive, just by the mere fact of them running out of the classrooms to the halls can be great training.
Almost an instant after Professor Burbage dismisses us from class, students stand and scramble to get their things and leave.
The hallways erupt with chatter and laughter as they walk to their next destinations. Be it to attend their next class or to skip said class. Some running, making them bump into one another, uttering quick 'sorry's' and then continuing to dash.
Unfortunately, Lucy couldn't walk with me through the halls today because she still has her choir practice. Though, walking alone isn't a foreign thing to me anymore.
Making my way to my next class, I spot Nott smoking and hanging out with his group of friends. Their backs leaning on the hallway's walls, acting cool. And like something possessed me at that moment, I looked at him and waived hello with a smile.
In which he did not reciprocate. He just stood there. Glaring. At me.
My smile vanished in an instant as I lowered my hand, embarrassed.
"Look at that Theo! You got yourself a crush!" one of them pointed out as they all laughed. I wasn't sure who it was, nor did I care at that moment.
And if the ground could swallow me whole, I'd let it. Walking far away from them, I hear another remark.
"Maybe she took Shakespear's words to heart," and they laughed even harder.
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I'd be lying if I were to say that I am not living and breathing to study. But I have to do what I have to do. This isn't enough yet.
It's that time of the night again wherein I bask in the presence of the moon. Something that I may call my home now.
Making my way toward the astronomy tower, my mind couldn't help the fact but replay my earlier encounters with Nott and his friends.
Climbing the last step of the stairs, as if to greet me, the wind blew in my face. The stars were a bit dull today. The clouds grey. And the moon hiding beneath the clouds.
My gaze went to the spot where he normally sits. Expecting the usual cloud of smoke and getting ready to cough yet again. Except, he wasn't there.
I figured that I must be early, I shrugged my robes and made myself sit there instead. It was my spot to begin with. Playing with the tips of my fingers, I wait for him. Was my homework for the day really that short? I guess it was, due to the fact that I finished doing it early.
Moments later whilst looking at almost nothing in the sky, my back starts to ache from sitting in a position. Surely it can't be that long.
I waited. And waited. Laid on the floor, hugging myself. And waited yet again.
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Am I about to discover a new species of bird that chirps during midnight? Apparently, the bird must have such shiny feathers for it to shine through my eyelids.
Blinking my eyes awake, I await for this strange bird in front of my face to only be greeted with sunlight.
Since when was there sun in the night?
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MERLIN'S BEARD, IT'S MORNING!
Foolish of me to think that Nott would come back to the tower, especially after I embarrassed him in front of his friends.
I hurriedly stood to run down the tower. Praying to my ancestors that I am yet to be late for class. Maybe I should plan the information for my funeral. My mum is surely going to slaughter me.
"No running in the halls!" Filch scolds me "Hogwarts doesn't run out of food missy," he adds.
What? I freeze in my tracks. That means... It's still breakfast time! Thank Merlin! I make a mental note to plan my funeral at a later time and made my way to the great hall.
Making my way to the benches, I sit by myself. For sure, Lucy was done consuming her breakfast hours before I made it here. An early bird she is.
Stuffing some waffles in my mouth, I notice from my peripheral vision Nott entering the hall.
He looked rough. He was slouching, like he didn't get enough sleep. The eye bags below his eyes looked deeper. It didn't help that his eyes were normally sleepy-looking.
He sits down where his friends are already seated, them, ignoring his look like it was a normal thing for them.
The waffles were good though.
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As soon as Nott walked out of the great hall, leaving his friends behind. I bolted off to follow him.
I basically had to run to catch up to him. The man has such long legs.
"Hey, Nott!" I say, catching my breath, when I finally catch up to him. He turns to look and then pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with his wand and placing it between his lips, inhaling its smoke.
I cough, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.
I had to look up to speak to him, "Are you ok?" I asked, concerned.
He rolls his eyes, avoiding my gaze. "Why do you care stella?" he speaks through his thick Italian accent.
Who in the world is Stella?
I let out a humorless chuckle. "Sorry to disappoint you but that's not my name, it's Y/N, we're potion partners remember? And secondly, it's basic human decency to be concerned about someone and ask if they're doing well. You don't look like how you normally do. Plus you didn't show up last night, which in my opinion is so not you. But don't worry it's not mandatory for us to meet every night. But a good head's up would be lovely," I talk with my hands. "And that smoking habit of yours. It's not good for your health at all,"
I cough.
He finally looks down at me as soon as I finish my sentence.
Shit. Did I ramble again?
It wasn't my greatest strengths. Mum used to tell me to shut up because I used to do it too much.
"Sorry," I whispered
I cough.
I really should've rehearsed this in my head.
And in response, he only chuckles, shaking his head as he walks away. Leaving me alone in the hallway, staring at his broad back as he further gets distant.
I'm pretty sure I scared him and managed to scare myself too.
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I was dreading to attend Professor Snape's class because for sure we'd need to sit together for a period. Either way, I'll kill myself faster than he will.
Students starts to fill the room. The stools scratching the floors as they sat down. I bit my nails, anxiously glancing at the stool beside me, from time to time.
"Settle down," Professor Snape strides in, his robe following him.
I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe Nott is skipping.
"That includes you Mr. Nott," Snape adds.
ah fuck.
I turn to look at the door to see him standing there. Just staring at me. He then clears his throat and made his way to sit beside me.
It isn't like I was praying for him to skip so that he may have to attend detention. I mean if you're already skipping, why should you get caught too? It's just that I feel like the tension between me and him is growing. And not in a romantic way, but in a 'I'll kill you in your sleep' sort of way.
As he sat down, the sleeve of his left arm pulled up making me take a little peek.
Cuts.
Too many to count. On his wrist.
Some were small. Some, longer. But most, looked like he did them angrily.
It was best not to ask him in the moment. But whatever has been bothering him, I pray to Merlin that they'll receive hell.
The sound of quills scratching parchment filled the room as we tried to write down every word Snape says, to avoid mistakes in the future when we'd be given the task to brew said potion.
Except Nott. He rested his arms on the table, staring into the abbys. His mind crowded with thoughts, which I can only presume is what is keeping him awake at night.
"Isn't that correct Mr. Nott?" Professor Snape asks him, cutting off his train of thoughts and focusing on Snape.
"Sir." He responds.
"If you were paying attention to me Mr. Nott, tell me," Snape walks up to him "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?", he asks Nott, eyeing him.
"I um," Nott stutters, furrowing his eyebrows.
I leaned a bit to his side and whispered so low, that only he can hear me, "Draught of the living dead,"
"Drought of the living dead, sir," he speaks louder, answering Snape's question.
Satisfied, Snape walked back to the front and continued his discussion. And as soon as he does, Nott turns to look at me, giving me a curt nod. His way of saying 'thank you'.
I give him a genuine smile in return and continued to write on my parchment, scribbling whatever words Professor Snape will let out.
During the whole duration of class, now and then, I'd notice Nott glancing at me. Like he wanted to say something but couldn't.