Y/N was the kind of girl that everyone knew, but no one paid attention to; she had plenty of acquaintances, but no close friends. She was the very definition of a wallflower. The summer before her 5th year at Hogwarts, all of that changes...
(Might...
- Just wanted to say thanks to everyone reading and voting on this, I see u guys :)) And I hope you like the way the story is turning out -
(Also, the song isn't me saying Y/N is a psycho. Just thought it was a vibe, ya know?)
*Y/N's POV*
I couldn't find my goddamn-fucking-satan's asshole-soggy-toilet-paper-mushy-banana-Jesus'-left-pube-bitch of a quill.
I sat on the thickly-carpeted floor, surrounded by my belongings, which I'd flung out of my leather satchel in search of my quill.
Now, you might be thinking, "Why is she so worked up? Surely a lost quill isn't enough reason to blaspheme about Jesus' left pubes."
You would be wrong in thinking that. And don't call me Shirley.
The stress of fifth year was finally getting to me. The professors were assigning twice as much homework as they had in the beginning of the year, and I'd heard the word 'N.E.W.T' so much my head practically rang with it. I was up until 1 am every night just finishing assignments, and the lovely combination of sleep deprivation and school anxiety had finally caused me to break down.
Which brings us to me, on the floor.
I shuffled frantically through random scraps of parchment and stray ink bottles. My hand settled on a ripped off corner on which a sketch was scribbled; I remembered being bored in history of magic and doodling it absentmindedly. It was a cat with two legs and...well, it looked like this but scratched in ink-
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It really wasn't that funny. But I had gotten ~4 hours of sleep last night, and consequentially it was the most goddamn hilarious thing I'd ever seen in my life. I felt tears start forming in my eyes, and a chuckle bubbled up in my throat until I burst out laughing and fell down on the floor, rolling back and forth while screaming with laughter.
Several minutes later, Ron came into the common room to find me half laughing and half sobbing on the ground, surrounded by my books and papers. He rushed over and knelt down next to me.
"Y/n??" He grabbed my shoulder and shook it gently. "Are you...okay?"
I laughed and wiped my eyes, sitting up straight. "Not in the slightest, my good bitch. Not in the slightest." My face was sore from my maniacal grinning, and I put my hands to my cheeks to try and relax them.
"Why were you crying? Or laughing, I'm not entirely sure which."
I sighed and leaned against the back of a chair, letting my head roll back to hit the cushions.
"I got four hours of sleep again, and I found this." I handed him the cat drawing and watched his face as he tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin.
"That's pretty funny," He admitted, "But not funny enough to make me cry. Which means you," He stood up and held out a hand to help me up. "You are not well."
