Starting the term with the Dementors search left a particularly bad taste in everybody’s mouth. Schoolwork had gotten exceedingly harder since it was the first year of OWLS examinations, though Professor Lupin’s class was always something to look forward to. Y/N was relieved to have a competent Dark Arts teacher, and she found Professor Lupin’s youth, thinly veiled madness, and penchant for controlled chaos refreshing. What other teacher would bring a boggart into a classroom?
Then almost predictively, given the manhunt that was raking over the United Kingdom’s wizarding world, the school year progressed into a prison. Strict curfews were enforced and Hogsmeade trips were cancelled due to Sirius Black being on the run. When Neville got in all his trouble for having his passwords stolen by the fugitive, Y/N had been furious, albeit she didn’t know if her anger was directed at her well-meaning but forgetful cousin, McGonagall for publicly shaming the already ostracized boy, Sirius Black, or the world. It was not a good feeling.
Her friends more often than not made her mood better, but any negative talk of Neville in any capacity earned a quick revenge by his older cousin. Y/N got quite good at discreetly ruining people’s day- splicing book bags, gluing tongues to roofs of mouths, tying shoelaces together, etc. Nothing that left permanent damage. It satisfied the anger, the mean streak that developed an insatiable craving for vigilante justice, and she could justify that she was practicing nonverbal magic and enhancing her skills as a witch. Isn’t that what school is for?
During one of the changing of classes Y/N and her fellow 5th-year Gryffindors were confronted by a hoard of 7th-year Ravenclaw students, loudly insulting the youngest Longbottom of his foolishness and stupidity while Neville could be seen tucking his blushing head and practically fleeing the scene, while Y/N stood still and took it in. The look on her face actually struck fear in Fred’s light prankster heart.
Deftly, with barely a whisper of a spell or a movement of robes, Y/N hexed that unsuspecting Ravenclaw with a vicious Furnunclus curse, covering the bully immediately with large and prominent boils. Chaos ensued. The loud wailing of the victim, students trampling each other, all ducking and parting like the Red Sea to find the perpetrator, lucky for Y/N the girl quite literally ducked and covered, joining the crowd and concealing her identity from the frantic teachers in the corridor.
Fred vowed never to make fun of Neville in front of his cousin as long as he lived, or actually, piss her off that badly, ever in his life.
Locking eyes with Y/N he slowly smiled and nodded his approval- it truly was an act of a talented witch- and to not get caught! Teachers were whipping their heads around but couldn’t find the perpetrator. Y/N smirked, and a high flush appeared across her cheeks, making her almost glow.
She is beautiful.
Fred had been surprised by the thought, but unsure of its meaning. They were good friends, known each other since diapers, how did he not realize she was also a pretty girl? That was looking at him. Limbs moved thankfully on their own accord, helping up and dusting the girl off. They were both giggling, falling back into line, the adrenaline rush of pulling off a minor crime and getting away with it, and maybe the rush of something new.
The night that Buckbeak the hippogriff and Sirius Black’s great escape was an ordinary one for everybody who wasn’t Harry Potter’s immediate friend or foe. Late in the evening, Y/N was sitting at one of the windows of Gryffindor Tower, quietly taking in a beautiful night in the Scottish hills. OWLs were over, and Y/N was disappointed by her growing indifference to grades. To Y/N it was difficult to take a test seriously when it seemed obvious that there were bigger and more grave things brewing. The foreboding expressions on their professor's faces with every hysterical article from the Daily Prophet, the tight-lippedness of her parents’ letters, Y/N didn’t know what to think of it. A close creak next to the girl made her jump upright, wand gripped so tightly it was a miracle it didn’t splinter.
“Merlin don’t curse me!” Fred Weasley yelped as he threw his hands above his head.
The immediate sob of relief and realization that it was only her friend made Y/N want to cry.
“Fred, what are you doing?” She whisper screamed, the feeling coming back in her hands, and the heat of the sun burning her cheeks into a bright crimson blush. Fred was in pajamas, a homemade blue jumper, and flannel pants, but with bare feet and bedhead. Obviously not intending to leave Gryffindor Tower. The question was met with a couple of seconds of silence.
Fred raised a red eyebrow, the shadows of the night taking away most of his color.
“I could ask you the same, or did McGonagall leave you in charge to hex anybody who dared cross the common room?” He asked sarcastically, hiding the fact that seeing the girl he fancied wielding what he knew could be a painful end to his night sent his heart rate through the roof. As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted it. Fred knew his friend was not expecting to be disturbed, and Black’s reappearance had put everybody on edge.
She smiled instead, a true one, a smile that made Fred’s chest swell with affection and pride for making it come into existence.
“No, just, thinking,” Y/N answered, sitting back down, drawing her knees back into her chest.
“Ah, never good.” Fred joked, weakly, as he took the open spot next to her. They both took in the night, not exactly needing to end the comfortable silence, but politely waiting for the other to speak first. It was Y/N.
“You never answered my question.” Why he was awake?
“Honestly? Lee snores.” Fred replied with an exhausted chuckle, it was very very early in the morning. They sat and talked about nothing, which meant everything to them. Y/N welcomed the attention and distraction from her earlier worries that brought her to this spot, to this chair, and to this moment with the boy she had grown to be so fond of. After a couple of yawns and rubbing of eyes the pair agreed to part and get some sleep.
Y/N was already halfway from their perch to the girls' staircase when she heard Fred exclaim looking out the window,
"Please- do I have to go?" Neville asked in a pained voice. Y/N looked over to her younger cousin with sympathy.
"You know you do- but cheer up! Hogwarts is wonderful. And you can finally meet people your own age, make new friends,"
Neville let out a little sputter as if to say yeah, right. "And learning about magical things- and how to be a wizard!". He just stared at her with disbelief.
Flipping her hair, the girl let out a sigh. She wished Neville could see himself as she did; a bright, kind, and funny boy.
Neville had absolutely no self-confidence. Y/N often thought that their grandmother was too harsh on Neville- as the women incessantly compared the young boy to his father. Neville's parents were insane patients at the wizarding hospital St. Mungos. The couple had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange for information regarding the first Wizarding War against He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. For this reason, Neville was raised by his grandmother since he was a year old. It was more than a lot to deal with for one person, much less a child, but Neville carried it like it was his duty. He was proud to be their son, though he never thought he would live up to their sacrifice.
So, Y/N took it upon herself to his protector. Since they were small, she had protected him from all possible bullies- including their own family. They became quite close.
Y/N, being two years older than Neville, had been the first to go to Hogwarts; and both had cried. Now, it was Y/N's third year and Neville's first, and she was beyond excited for him.
Finally, she had thought, he could get the chance to meet amazing people, as she had.
Neville was nervously looking around. Probably agonizing over getting caught entering Platform's 9¾ and exposing the Wizarding World- a worry he had relayed to his cousin on the way to the train station. Y/N rolled her eyes at the boy- as much as she loved him and as protective as she was- the constant worrying could get old. Besides, Neville was the least likely in the family to expose wizards, as Madam Longbottom never left the house without the brightest robes and her horrifyingly realistic vulture hat. It was truly vile.
Quickly looking around, she grabbed Neville by the wrist and pulled him through the brick wall. Though both of them had seen The Hogwarts Express two times previously to drop Y/N off for school, the experience was always like the first. After a moment, the two adjusted to their surroundings; as hundreds of children and their families said their last goodbyes, owls hooting and screeching, and the train's whistles blaring their warnings.
The two waited for the rest of their families, giving hugs and promises to write often. Y/N was humming with anticipation and quickly escaped the grasp of her family to go find her friends, who she hadn't seen since before the summer. Rounding the corners, she saw her best friends and girls in her year, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, looking for her. The three embraced and immediately started their frantic questions about the break, talking over and louder than the next person.
"Oi! Why are you yelling? We're right here?" Fred Weasley had joked, getting the three girl's attention; with his twin brother, George, smiling behind him. While the twins were no strangers to the third years', but their voices were completely different. Much deeper than last year, and each of them was noticeably taller. The twins-well all of the Weasleys- had flaming red hair and covered in freckles. Once in their first year, Y/N, Lee Jordan, and Angelina tried to count all of George's freckles. They gave up after the 600s. As Y/N smiled back at her classmates, she felt an unfamiliar flush spread across her cheeks at Fred Weasley's grin. How odd.
"You lot aren't going to believe this- we just met Harry Potter!" George exclaimed, which was met with a collective gasp. Harry Potter was a legendary boy, being the only survivor of the Killing Curse and for the disappearance of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.
"Is he 11 now?"
"Oh-he's in Neville's year!"
"Merlin, I hope he is in Gryffindor-,"
"Stop! We don't know everything you know!" The twins retorted, brushing off the girl's comments. As excited as the prospect of meeting the famous Harry Potter was, the group of third year's quickly found their usual train compartment for the journey back to the Hogwarts castle. Y/N worried for a moment if Neville had found a good group of first years yet and felt guilty for somewhat abandoning him. They had talked about riding together, but she had hesitated, not knowing if he would be comfortable around her third-year friends. Neville brushed by this entirely, claiming he needed to find his own way- alone. Y/N's attention snapped back to reality after a warm hand tapped her arm. Fred nodded his ginger head to the door of the compartment.
"Do you want anything from the trolley?" The lady who pushed the cart repeated, to which Y/N pulled out a few coins and traded for some of their favorite snacks. Y/N handed Fred and George their share without a second thought. Though the twins were from a large and loving family, they were very poor. Not wanting them to be left out, Y/N started the tradition of buying enough to share with everybody. Fred smiled his thanks to his friend, and Y/N again felt an unfamiliar rush of heat to her cheeks. What is going on!? She thought desperately. It wasn't like her to feel uncomfortable or unsettled with her friends. Perhaps it was an illness of sorts. Whatever it was, she hoped that the feeling would be gone by the time they arrived at Hogwarts.
Third-year came in went, ending spectacularly, with Neville winning the last ten points for Gryffindor to win the House Cup and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger saving the school (and Harry's life of course). Y/N cheered loudly with her fellow Gryffindors, hugging Neville's sobbing shoulders and throwing an arm in the air. Fred and George were standing in their seats, hollering their praises to their little brother and the rest of the Gryffindors pounding the table in celebration. It was one of the best days of Y/N's life.
A lot of things started to change over the
summer. Being a teenage witch was never easy, and only receiving a letter every week or two from her friends was doing less than wonders on her patience. On a particularly stagnant evening, reading the same classic muggle book for the 15th time, Y/N was rudely interrupted by an earsplitting crash that scared the living daylights out of her. It was hard to tell who screamed louder, herself or the poor owl that came crashing through her bedroom window. In a flash, her parents apparated in her room, brandishing wands like swords and yelling at the intruder that was not there. Errol, the Weasleys owl, was hooting pitifully on the ground with his feathers drifting slightly around. The truly pitiful sight and the enormous reaction it caused made the entire family laugh until tears were streaming down their cheeks. Her mother carefully picked up the owl and handed over the letter giggling.
"This is for you," she said with a smirk.
Y/N looked down to find in pure joy that he had finally written to her this summer. Too invested with the letter, she hardly heard her parents walk out of her room, carrying Errol and
chortling,
“I’ll have to tell Molly the next time I see her- Merlin-that was funny."
Excited, Y/n nearly tore the letter trying to open it, but the realization made her stop cold. Why was she so excited about a simple letter? Feeling childish over her overaction, she read the contents of the delivered envelope with more restraint. It was perfectly acceptable that she was excited to hear from her friends- she had reasoned. He had asked how her summer was, if she had missed them yet, and told stories of their misfortune of getting grounded for half the summer by Mrs. Weasley. Immediately taking out her quill and parchment, she quickly wrote back her response, answering all his questions and asking her own, hoping that her writing did not look too sloppy or too nice.
Too nice? What in the bloody hell could make her care what Fred Weasley thought of her penmanship.?
September 1st came entirely too quickly. As always, though, the excitement of going back to Hogwarts could alleviate any nerves. The train ride seemed to take no time at all, though the regular group of Gryffindor’s seemed more subdued as the experience was not as new. Fred, George, Angelina, and Alicia were all talking quidditch. Just about quidditch. It's not like Y/N hated quidditch-she absolutely adored to watch her friends play- but being the only person without experience left her pretty much out of the conversation. Which stung, but they were not trying to hurt her feelings. So, she listened casually, trying to at least to look interested. The effort did not last long, the carriage being warm and comforted by the soft sounds of her friends talking in the background. Y/N daydreamed of flying cars and drifted right to sleep.
It had only felt like seconds when the girl was being shaken awake. Groaning softly, she looked over at the offender. Fred Weasley was peering down at her and smiling at his sleepy friend. She noticed that there were flecks of gold in his warm brown eyes. Pretty. He was so pretty- the thought made her jolted upright, cold panic waking her up effectively.
“Might want to get ready, we are going to be there soon," Angelina said to Y/N, opening her trunk for school robes.
Nodding in a daze, Y/N followed suit. Her friends plainly didn’t notice the internal battle going on in Y/N's head, and she tried not to let it show. It all was starting to make sense. The awkward moments, the untimely blushes, and the sudden anxiety…. Y/N had a crush. Not just on anybody either. On Fred Weasley, her best friend, the resident prankster. And there was nothing she could do about it.
