Sigh, Teenagers

Y/N was going to poison Draco Malfoy. She was going to brew up an inedible, brat-murdering, corrupted Calming draught, and Malfoy would take one sip of it and pass away. Merlin! His father was REALLY going to hear about this. Y/N would be sent to Azkaban to wilt away in a cell simply because she was horrible at potions. She shivered at the thought, causing Harry to send her a look from his desk. How he wished he could find some way to talk to the girl. Whether to comfort her or express his anger, he had no idea.

The shell shocked girl stared wide eyed and with a mouth so large she could compete with the Basilisk in unhinging its jaw. She felt panic, fear, anxiety, and many more rattle through her sad bones in the form of a chill down her spine. There was no other place to look other than at the daddy's boy himself.

Snape had moved on calling partners in his usual lifeless manner, but Y/N was still stuck on Draco.

The blonde only shot an icy glare in his future partner's direction before focusing on his parchment. The longer Y/N gawked, the more baffled she became. Rather than settling in and processing, the information ransacked her brain. Draco Malfoy was going to be her partner. THE Draco Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy who hated her and her friends with a burning passion, ignored the girl for four years, purposely bumped into her in the hallways just to knock her over, and convinced the entire Slytherin house to pretend she wasn't alive. The same Draco Malfoy who was positively fuming to the point where Y/N thought his book would burn and shrivel to ashes with how he glowered at it.

But perhaps Y/N too would be the next to combust. For the girl sitting just behind the prince of Slytherin was eyeing Y/N like she had just killed her pet owl and thrown its carcass at her. Horrified. Yet so extremely, undeniably pissed. Maybe her father would also hear about this. Y/N could never be too sure when it came to those pureblood Slytherins.

"Pssst..Hermione," she whispered.

"What?" Hermione snapped, sounding quite annoyed that her precious learning time was being interrupted.

"Who's that?" Y/N asked, pointing subtly to the girl who had yet to stop attacking her with her with a sharp death glare.

"That's Pansy Parkinson,"

"Yes, alright, but any idea why she's trying to bury me six feet under with just her eyes?"

So Y/N was sort of out of the loop when it came to anyone and everyone outside of her close friends and a good portion of the Gryffindor house, but could you blame her? The poor girl just wanted to cozy up in her bed with a good muggle book in her lap.

"She's fancied Draco since forever. Really how oblivious can you be?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for squabbling during a lesson," Snape drawled from across the classroom.

Y/N heard a few groans, quite a loud one from Ron too, and immediately shrunk into herself. Oops. "Sorry," she whispered to a less than pleased Hermione.

~

Y/N was beyond stressed. Maybe that was why she was slouching dejectedly on the old wooden table aside the crackling fire of the Hogwarts kitchen in the middle of the night. The girl could've cared less about her weight or how unladylike she looked while she stuffed one strawberry after another into her mouth like some sort of fruit gremlin. The nearby house elves said nothing, but did but bring another bowl of the crimson fruit.

No matter how much she loved the treat however, the girl was still far from comforted. Once the last strawberry had been devoured, Y/N threw her head onto the table and groaned. She was beyond dead. Possibly even dementor's kiss beyond dead. She did hear quiet an unsettling amount about the "fate worse than death".

It had been two horrible, horrible days since her fate had been announced by the old, greasy codger. An image of the backside of Malfoy's robes flowing as he slipped out of Potions still burned in her mind. In fact, several fleeting images of bits of the blonde crossed her mind.

Y/N wasn't exactly trying her hardest to talk to or interact with the Slytherin, but the project still needed to be completed somehow and he was avoiding the girl like she were a rat and the black plague was upon them. Sure he probably thought of her on the same level as a rodent, but at least a rodent had the slightest bit of chance of concocting a brew. Y/N was going to fail and blow up her cauldron, alone.

"Thought we'd find you here," two voices announced quite unexpectedly.

Y/N was far from frightened or startled in spite of her tendency to jump at anything too abrupt. It was definitely Malfoy's fault for making her dejected and listless in the first place. That's it. Y/N was going to start blaming Malfoy for everything and there was nothing he could do to stop her from it.

"Leave me alone to cry in peace," she moaned, refusing to lift her heavy head from the scratchy wood. If only she did, for she would've caught the two pairs of lovesick eyes gazing fondly at their best friend. But fate wasn't quite ready for the girl to know just yet.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" One of them asked- presumably Fred, who Y/N knew to have the higher pitched voice of the twins.

"That bloody wanker Malfoy, hasn't talked to me about the stupid potions project yet! I don't even want to talk to the brat, but he's still my partner! What do I dooooooo," she cried helplessly.

"With language like that, no wonder the bloke doesn't want to talk to you," Fred jived.

Y/N lifted her head to glare at the ginger before shoving him away in mock annoyance. However, her false irritation was quickly forgotten when she saw the small bowl of strawberries just a few inches in front of where her head previously lay.

The tiny shred of happiness didn't last long as it still wouldn't solve her Malfoy problem. The girl's face fell as she plucked the red fruit from the bowl and bit into it with a sort of pout on her face. Oh if only the strawberry were filled with poison so she could simply pass away.

"You don't need the brat," they assured. "We can help you do your project. And we're much better."

Y/N let a fraction of a smile slip. Well at least she knew she was in good hands. So maybe they'd most definitely, absolutely get off track and possibly, most likely end up committing arson while they studied together. They'd one it once before; the last three pages of George's textbook would not be missed. But at least she'd pass the class. Malfoy be damned! Y/N was going to get her work done no matter what.

"Thanks guy-GEORGE!!"

Y/N stared incredulously at where a chunk of her strawberry should have been. Instead, it was in the mouth of the boy who she should've noted was eyeing the fruit situated between her two fingers the entire time. She huffed and stuffed the rest of her plundered fruit into George's mouth. He only grinned goofily and sent one of his dumb winks. "My strawberry," she pouted, only to receive a signature head pat from the boy.

She should've known. They had gone too long without stealing each other's food anyways.

"Ughhhh, I'm too tired to go on. Carry me," she playfully demanded as she stuck her hands like a child out towards George. Might as well make the strawberry thief work to repay his fruity debt.

"Alright, your majesty," he teased. The tall boy stood up and placed his hands on Y/N's waist before hoisting her up and over his shoulder. Yes, George Weasley was carrying Y/N L/N like a potato sack. Embarrassing.

With a beet red face, she pounded lightly on his broad back with her fists. "Not like that you idiot!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah George. Hand her over, I'll show you how to carry a lady," Fred injected.

"Wait no!" Y/N yelped.

But alas, the poor witch managed to find herself being carried by both brothers. Since the day at the burrow, the twins seemed to have figured out a method of transporting their younger friend. George enjoyed the privilege of holding onto his friend's hands, while his older brother by a few minutes had the duty of latching onto her ankles. Essentially, the girl had become a human swing. Oh how she hoped that wasn't the idea.

"Ready Fred?"

"Ready George."

What?!"

~

Y/N was strange for a witch. Even with half of a wizard lineage floating around in her bloodstream, she still thought and acted like a complete muggle. Even Caroline was less of a muggle than Y/N was, and she had no wizard blood in her at all!

The young witch stared at the small, neatly folded parchment on her desk with bafflement before throwing glances at every single student in her defense against the dark arts class. Who would leave a note for her? She never got notes. Hell, none of her friends had ever gotten notes either. Not by this method at the very least.

She took one last once over at her surroundings before finally settling on her seat and picking up the note. Her hands made quick work of unveiling the paper before Hermione's shadow cast over her desk.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

"I'm not really sure," Y/N answered as she halted her actions. She was a witch after all. She attended a school for witchcraft and wizardry for Merlin's sake! She wouldn't be surprised if it were some exploding product of the twins' crazy minds. Would have certainly started yet another prank war between the friends; one that Y/N would be sure to lose.

"Well, open it!" The brunette demanded.

"Alright alright!" Y/N finally unfolded the paper only to see nothing. Not a single word. Just a blank piece of wasted paper. "Oh...." she breathed. "I suppose someone from the last class forgot their paper on my desk."

Hermione quickly lost interest and began flipping through the extraordinarily large book that accompanied the DADA book already on her desk. Looks like Hermione had already taken a trip to the library. Something Y/N had yet to do this term.

Then out of the corner of her eye, Y/N noticed something dark and shiny spreading across her paper. She gasped softly and splayed the parchment on her desk, careful to avoid the letters. So someone enchanted the ink. The girl wasn't exactly sure how, but she guessed that this mysterious person didn't want anyone else but her to see. But wasn't there a similar case between Harry and one Tom Marvolo Riddle?

The girl eyed her messy haired friend. As long as she didn't interact with the paper, she'd be fine right? Her E/C eyes quickly scanned over the neat writing in fear that she was reading something that shouldn't be read in class. Like possibly a threat or confession of undying love.

"Library..Last Row..4 o clock... Monday..DM..." She whispered to herself.

"What'd you say?" Hermione, the ever so observant one, asked.

"Nothing!" Y/N squawked as she shoved the parchment under the desk. "Oh look! Professor's here," She yelped, happy for a diversion.

The professor strutted into class with an unmatched, intimidating confidence before halting center stage "Alastor Moody," he introduced gruffly. "Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent...and your new defense against the Dark arts teacher."

Y/N had heard a lot about this Mad Eye Moody from her ginger menaces. Where Ron may have spoken about his reputation, the twins had the opportunity to experience the auror's teaching methods first hand. So far, exceptional things. But these were also the twins, so Moody's teaching style had to be at the least extremely unconventional.

"When it comes to the dark arts, I believe in a practical approach." And there it was. Y/N eyed the suspicious jars of bugs and creepy crawlies, wondering if he'd set those vile creatures onto the class like Professor Lockhart had done back in their second year. "But first, which of you can tell me how many unforgivable curses there are?"

Hermione's ever so eager hand shot up into the sky, and was fortunately chosen to answer. If not, all that time Hermione was spending on answering the professor's questions would have been spent with the nerdy girl's hand still hovering in the air.

While all the attention was on Hermione and the professor, Y/N took this opportunity to prop up on her hand and lean against it. After all, everyone had to have a thinking position. Y/N's just happened to be any pose she found comfortable. Now....Who was DM?

"You need to find another place to put your chewing gum beside the underside of your desk mister Finnigan!" Moody roared, his voice echoing across the room and filling up all the ears of his students. Y/N's slouching back straightened like a slap bracelet as she exited her thoughts to return back to reality.

"The old codger can see out the back of his head," Seamus complained to his seatmate. The girl found yet another reason to stay alert as their teacher hurled his piece of chalk at the boy. Her eyes widened as she ducked along with the rest of the classroom in fear of being hit.

Y/N watched as the crazy man singled out Ron and made him stand. Suddenly, she was quite scared of being called on and not having an answer. Her heart rate sped up to an unnerving pace as she racked her jumbled brain for any unforgivable curse she could think of. When her wandering eyes landed on her dark haired best friend however, she couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty. There was the killing curse of course...

But still...Who was DM? Surely Y/N's lack of knowledge of the students attending her school couldn't have been that bad. It wasn't like she was so hopeless that she couldn't even name a single student other than her friends. She just couldn't recall any important names in her memory.

Lazily, her eyes followed the devil arachnid creature monster as it flew across the classroom (against its will unfortunately). Her eyebrows scrunched every time the unreasonably large spider appeared with fifteen feet of the the girl. Though that wasn't the only reason. She swore the unknown person was at the tip of her tongue. Hopefully someone cute. Was that too shallow of her? Maybe just a little, but wouldn't it be fun if they were cute?

And so it would seem the spider had finally been flung to the farthest reach of the classroom. Straight onto the one and only Draco Malfoy.

The sinking feeling of complete and utter despair had returned. Yes Y/N was a little relieved that her official partner was in contact with her now, but she far too disappointed. She'd have much rather preferred to work with the twins instead of the spoiled brat.

At least he was cute. Sadly a foul personality came with the pretty, pale face.

~

The only good thing about that Friday, was that it was a Friday. Y/N kept the folded up parchment in her robe pockets the entire day, opening it up again every period just in the hopes that the letters would magically change, or to check if it was really addressed to her.

It was later that night when she was splayed out on the couch across the blazing fire of the Gryffindor common room when she disclosed of the letter's information. The reactions were exactly like she had expected. Less than pleased. No one liked Malfoy, but at least they were lucky Y/N had gotten the boy. She never openly hated on him, and she was the only one who had yet to attack or attempt to attack Malfoy.

Breaking the news to the twins was much sadder than she would have liked to admit. Not a single Weasley liked Draco very much, but the two identical Weasleys supposed that they could let him live if he didn't bother their Y/N.

When that fated Monday afternoon came, Y/N had to reluctantly force her feet to carry the rest of her body to the library. It came as a surprise when none other than Harry offered to walk the girl to her doom. She appreciated it greatly. Given Harry's complete loathing of the Slytherin after all. It was rather strange that he was alright with seeing her off.

"Thanks Harry," she muttered quietly.

"Y-yeah no problem. Don't...Don't let Malfoy get to you okay. He'd just foul." It was rather sweet of Harry to attempt to give Y/N advice. Even if he wasn't too great of a talker, it was okay because Y/N wasn't either. She still understood his message nonetheless.

She merely gave an unsure smile at the boy before trudging on into the library's cozy world.

Y/N knew this place just as well as Hermione did. After all, many a days did the girl spend holed up, searching for books from the muggle literature section. Labeled shelves passed by, blurring into the girl's peripherals. Indeed, it was quite a task to search for the allusive muggle story when witches and wizards looked down on muggles, and Madame Pince's library organization system catered to no one but the librarian herself.

Arrived. The furthest row from the entrance, tucked away behind a useless pile of books the librarian found no use in organizing. The useless corner. Far from the sharp ears of the protector of knowledge, Madame Pince. It was dim, but far from dark. Old but far from dusty. Somewhat inaccessible and very much untouched. The library rarely filled up enough for students to need to go through the trouble of squeezing past all those books just to get a desk to study at. Unless it was time for the OWL exams.

The girl shimmied through the tiny gap between the stacked stories and quickly spotted the platinum blonde boy sitting at the table and gazing out the window with his chin propped up on his hand. Y/N found herself confused.

She had to admit, Draco looked quite nice when he wasn't being a prat. Not a sneer in sight nor rude remark. He was just sitting peacefully and perhaps, thinking. Had this been first or second year, Y/N's immature preteen self wouldn't have bat an eye at throwing the boy out a window while he was blatantly ignoring her.

But girls do mature rather quickly. Or maybe, it was because he had stopped styling his pretty blonde locks into a slicked back look that made her feel like punching his face. Even in the wizarding world, hair worked magic. Draco looked softer with his hair down. Less aggressive. More attractive.

Even if it was a planned rendezvous, Y/N felt as if she were intruding on something she shouldn't have. So she shrunk into herself, trying to make herself smaller and trying to disappear.

Quietly, she approached the boy and pulled out the chair directly across from him. Her enemy by association merely looking at her with a stony face before grabbing his potions book and throwing it open, rather harshly might I add. Additionally, the now less than peaceful Slytherin tossed his notes on the table.

Y/N squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, not knowing what she was supposed to be doing. Were they not going to talk? What was the point of the partner project aside from poisoning them and seeing what would happen? Did she even need to be here?

The girl placed the textbook she had brought with her onto the table. In a manner that was nothing like what Draco had just done. As she flipped through the pages, she started to dread the assignment more and more. Whereas other classes at least required a somewhat practical, hands on approach to learning-aside from history of magic, where she avidly cheated off of Hermione or Caroline-potions required so much memorization and perfectly followed instruction.

Y/N figured that she would at least get started on writing down the list of items needed for their first brew. Only problem was that she forgot where the ingredients came from, looked like, smelled like, or did. The girl definitely should have studied those materials much better back in first year because it was coming back to haunt her.

Wizarding world terminology just sucked sometimes. It took the poor muggle-ized girl a whole twenty minutes to figure out that belladonna had four names, what Drachm Calendula was, and how it get its pollen. She nearly slapped herself in front of Draco once she found out that it was merely a type of marigold.

"Are you dense? You stupid twit." Draco spat out of seemingly nowhere. To Y/N at least. In reality, the boy had been throwing glances at the obviously struggling girl and growing more bitter with every look. This was Draco's grade on the line here. And the imbecile known as Y/N was just barely figuring out what belladonna was when Draco had already written down his list of ingredients, their properties, and where to find them.

Let's not forget the teeny weeny fact that the boy who claimed to hate all Gryffindors, couldn't help but to sneak a few looks at one. It wasn't a crime to look at pretty people, but to Draco it felt as if he would be sent to Azkaban for ogling at the girl in front of him. The mere thought made him bitter. A Slytherin? bothering to interact with a Gryffindor? Ridiculous.

"Yes."

A confused expression crossed Draco's face for a second before a deep scowl replaced it. Almost everyone would be offended or defensive. What was wrong with this girl?

Y/N was offended. She didn't like being called stupid when she was just inadequate. She would have him know she was at the very least decent at muggle literature, but her partner would've scoffed at her weak defense. And to some degree, Malfoy was right. The girl really sucked at potions to the point where it was embarrassing.

"Twat. I'm going to put all of these wrong ingredients into your potion when I brew it, you know that right? If you don't start talking and help me, it's your life on the line," She stated as calmly as possible whilst staring straight into his mesmerizing steele eyes. Gorgeous really.

"Is that a threat?" He questioned, leaning forward and engaging in the battle of will. At some point it became nothing more than a petty staring contest. Neither party felt comfortable enough to be this close to one another, nor did they expect to stare straight at a person and think of how attractive the other was. Draco had pretty eyes too, Y/N had come to note. And Y/N had dazzling eyes too, Draco had come to realize.

He was not quite as angry as she expected him to be, which was extremely strange given his normally explosive behavior. In fact, he didn't really look angry at all. Just disgruntled.

Y/N needed to end this before she got herself into something she shouldn't. "Yup!" She chirped cheerily, popping the p.

The boy sighed heavily and leaned back onto the old seat. Well, Y/N won whatever this was. Or so she thought.

The salty Slytherin stood up hastily from his seat, gathered his belongings, and stormed out without another word. The girl could've sworn she caught some "stupid Gryffindors" and "My father will hear about this" as he did so.

Before she could stop them, the words seemed to spill from her lips. "I know the law baby. Tell your daddy, I dare you." (She did not know the law.)The boy stood, shell shocked at Y/N's strange language. "Now sit your pretty pampered little ass down before I make you," she continued, faking what little confidence she had grown. The girl had a project to do and wouldn't be putting up with the bully's attitude today.

"I don't take orders from filthy commoners like you," he spat angrily. Boy did this kid have issues.

Y/N really thought her approach was spot on. Apparently being on the offensive made things worse. Who would've guessed. Literally everyone. Malfoy was pretty much the worst person to ever be around. He was pretty much enemies with everyone. It was hard to think that he had friends. Let alone close friends. Maybe he didn't though. It would definitely have explained why the boy was so foul all the time.

"Please?" She meekly begged.

Draco paused for a second. Aside from the fact that he'd never heard anyone use this language on him, he never understood why he stayed. He should've kept walking but he didn't. He wanted to stay.

"Fine."

Y/N's face lit up in a puppy dog like manner. Draco wouldn't even admit it to himself but it was cute in a way. The way her eyes twinkled with mirth and her lips pulled apart to a cartoonish length, one could only describe it as adorable.

Her eyes continued twinkling as they followed the Slytherin back to his seat expectantly. "What're you staring at?" he snapped.

"Nothing!" she squeaked but with a smile nonetheless.

~

Y/N shuffled back to the common room alone that night, thinking about the rude boy. The girl was surprised by what the spoiled child would do for a grade. From what she'd caught glimpses of previously, Draco was decent at school. But just from asking all those questions in their study session, Y/N could tell he had exceeded her expectations. Rude, antagonistic, foul, annoying, and downright a cunt at times, but he was smart.

Seriously, if he weren't so outwardly a twat, the boy could've been known around school for more than his bullying, pretty face, money, or heritage. It was a shame really. He was really an okay bloke when his mouth was shut and wasn't twisted into a nasty sneer.

It was unfortunate that the only way the teenager knew how to talk was with hurtful, nasty words. Every single question he begrudgingly answered was accompanied by judgement and some sort of insult.

Y/N never took them to heart though. Not when she finally understood that he didn't always mean the words that spilled out of his unfiltered mouth. He just got annoyed easily and had somewhat of a issue with anger. Well as much of an issue as your average brooding teenage boy.

At some point, though, the girl grew tired of being called an oaf every time she asked a question. It was closing time in the library anyways, so she packed up her supplies and left after a curt goodbye. She may have been irritated, but at least Y/N had manners.

The girl bounced a little as she hopped over the couch's back and launched herself onto its red cushions. Hermione lowered an impossibly large book from her sight to acknowledge her exasperated friend. She grimaced at Y/N's tired eyes.

"How'd it go?" Harry asked from his spot on the carpeted floor. Y/N further slid from the seat to the floor like a blob, next to her black haired friend to prove her point.

"Tolerable. Only when he shuts his mouth though. Still doesn't stop him from being a prick," she grumbled.

"No offense Y/N, but I'm glad it's not me. I wouldn't know how to deal with Malfoy," Ron commented.

Y/N would've slapped the ginger, but her frizzy haired friend beat her to it. Guess it saved the girl from more activity. At this point, she just wanted to sleep and never think about the boy for at least another week.

Harry stared at his friend with concern. Though this concern soon turned to hardened hate. Malfoy was a prick and Harry hated him. That was a fact. But if the bloody Slytherin ever hurt his dear friend, the boy wouldn't hesitate to hex him with whatever spells he could think of. Even if it was the cruciatus curse.

A nudge to his arm pulled the boy out of his mini rage session. His much too pretty for her own good friend sat less than a foot away from him, her legs crossed with her knee barely being able to lay on top of his own crossed legs.

She gave him a smile that was much different than the unsure one he received earlier that day. This one told him proudly that she had everything handled perfectly fine.

The emerald eyed boy had just come to realized that he liked the way his friend smiled. "I got this!" she asserted confidentially to her group of friends. A silent agreement passed around the group. When Y/N set out to do something, she accomplished it no matter what.

Despite his trust in his friend, the chosen one still felt a bit unnerved by the fact that Y/N would have to spend time with his sworn enemy. He just.. Didn't like it.

On the other hand, Y/N knew she had this in the bag. Malfoy was a brilliant student, probably gifted in other areas too. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. The girl let her thoughts wander around aimlessly as she stared into the fire. Y/N just couldn't help but wonder if Malfoy liked to read. Surely he did. If not, how would he have found that dark corner of the library-the one that even Hermione had yet to touch-, Y/N's corner.