Harry Potter X Reader {1}

~13 - Bloody Norbert~

 Weeks have followed since Harry heard the discussion between Quirrell and Snape in the Forbidden Forest, and still nothing has happened. Apart from Quirrell getting progressively thinner, paler, and jumpier, it seems he's managed to hold his own against Snape so far, which gives me hope that he'll be able to hold out long enough for Dumbledore to figure out what Snape's up to. Every time we pass through the third-floor corridor, we'll always put an ear to the door to make sure that Fluffy is still there and growling away to himself, which he always is, meaning that Snape's not gotten past him yet.

We've started giving Professor Quirrell looks of encouragement and smiles whenever we pass him hoping that even just the little bit of reassurance that he's doing brilliantly will help him take it even further than he's already managed. Ron's even started telling people off for making fun of him.

Along with the Stone and all of the problems revolving around it right now, we've also got another pressing matter creeping up on us as the weeks progress. Soon enough we'll be taking our first lot of exams here at Hogwarts, and both Hermione and I are hard at work in between worrying about the Philosopher's Stone with our revision for said exams, as well as trying to encourage the boys to go through their course notes as well. Mione's taking things a little further than I, of course, as she's been colour-coding her notes and writing up revision timetables to keep herself on track.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away," Ron said one day after she'd nagged them into letting her write them a revision chart as well.

"Ten weeks," she'd retorted in a snappy fashion, one that seems to be most prominent when she's thinking about class work too much. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron had reminded her. "Anyway, what are you revising for? You already know it all."

"What am I revising for?" she snapped back in exasperation. "Are you mad? You realise we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me..."

"Mione," I had spoken up from my place beside Harry. "Don't worry, okay? We'll do fine, and as soon as the fifth week comes along, then we'll start whipping them." I grinned as I watched the colour drain from Ron's face.

"Not funny, Y/N," he said before looking back to his chess game set in front of the two of us. "She'll probably do it, you know?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ronald," I laughed before checking his king. "I won't let her actually whip anyone until at least the second week before."

"You two are both idiots," Hermione sighed.

It just so happens that our Professors seemed to have the same outlook on the ordeal as Hermione and I, as they'd started piling mounds of homework on us that I'm sure the boy's found the Easter holidays not to be nearly as fun and laid back as our Christmas ones. Oh, the essays I had to read through, both Hermione and I, that the boys were unsure of, which was all of which we'd been set. I don't think Mione minded looking them over so much though, as it gave her more opportunities to critique them. I suspect that in the future she'd make a very impressive professor herself.

"I'll never remember this," Ron bursts suddenly one afternoon as he throws down his quill and turned instead to stare out the library's window. "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

I tear my attention from my Transfiguration notes and look up to indeed find our friendly, gigantic, school gamekeeper looking awfully as if he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't be. He's also hiding something, a book or sorts I expect, behind his back.