ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔
- 𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒊
chapter six

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"WHO'S HOODIE was that?" Neville asks as they walk to the libary. Lyra liked talking to him until he brought up the clothing he saw her rush into the tower in.

"Nobody's, Nev." Lyra lies, now wearing a new set of school clothes, without her cloak. She finds it a bit silly as classes were over for the day but it was school rules to wear the uniform until dinner. The only exception was weekends.

"Don't lie. It was too big for you and you don't own any hoodies."

Lyra sighs, finding it hard to act nonchalant with him. Neville is different, her soft spot. "Alright, it obviously isn't mine but I don't want to say who's it is. Now I need to get going but I'll see you at dinner. Okay?"

Neville frowns like a child. "You don't love me."

"I do, very much, actually." She gives him a quick hug, to defuse any negativity he may feel, before rushing down the corridor to the library. "Love you!"

Lyra greets the librarian quietly before standing by the front desk and checking the time. Just as the long hand hit the 30-minute mark, Theodore strolls in wearing his school clothes, except the cloak, like her, leaving him in his white shirt, green tie and grey pants.

"You're on time." She nods.

He shrugs. "I like not having my head bitten off because I was a second late." He walks past her.

Lyra stands by the front desk, frowning as he walks further into the library. Where is he going? She grumbles to herself before following his tall figure. They walk past other tables, some filled with students or discarded books, and Lyra grows more suspicious as she realizes where he is walking to. Their route is a route Lyra knows well as she's walked it every day in here.

They reach the back corner of the library, hidden from the typical view given from the door and center floor, and turn a corner. There is a table fit for two people in the middle of two bookshelves with enough space to roam. Next to it is a large stained glass window that has raindrops running down as it continues to pour outside, the blue, green and yellow colors reflecting onto the table and floor in a beautiful scene.

Lyra feels happy at the sight of her studying spot. She discovered it in second year and has been obsessed with it since. It's secluded from others, the colorful window bringing a sense of peace. It's one of her most adored places in the world.

How did he know where it was? Lyra is very sure only she uses the spot, Madame Pince informing her of this.

"This is my study spot." Lyra says before looking at him.

"What a coincidence." Theodore looks back at her. He then sits in the chair and takes out his essentials.

Lyra tightens her grip on the strap of her bag. Weird. She joins him, sitting down in the seat she's practically engraved her name in.

She reaches into her bag with an extension charm and removes his hoodie she folded into an immaculate square. She places it on the table and meets his eyes. He sits up straight in the chair, his black shadow making the colors reflected on the table disappear in the shape of his body, with his arms crossed against his chest and resting on the wood.

With her hand on it, she slides the square over to his side. "Thank you." She removes it and places it on her lap. Strangely nervous, she tucks both sides of her hair behind her ears. "It was a kind gesture."

Theodore raises his eyebrows.

"What?" She snaps, shifting in her seat. Does he know she saw him shirtless?

"I get two 'thank yous' from you and you call me kind in the same hour? I believe I may have hit my head in quidditch." He flexes his jaw, watching her.

"You're a beater, you do the hitting."

He catches the slip. "Do you watch me in practice, Lovegood?"

"Do you lose focus in practice, Nott?" She fires back, returning the favor with a slip of his own.

If only she looked closer, she'd spot the small flush of his cheeks in the dark.

Theodore had hoped she didn't catch him staring at her during practice. He had noticed her sitting in the stands and lost concentration from there until Flint yelled at him.

He needed to change the topic. "I think we should write our essay on the Weedosoros potion."

She gives him a puzzled look. "That's ridiculous. It's only known effect is convulsion and the ingredients are unknown. It's doesn't even make up a paragraph. I think Snape assigned it by mistake." She takes the list out. "Honestly, Nott, you're proving you deserve third place."

The Slytherin rolls his eyes. He knows the Weedosoros potion is a dumb choice, but it worked in making Lyra forget, So, he allows the insult.

"Fine. What do you suggest we do, Smartass?"

"I'm so happy you asked, Buttercup. Now you can't get upset when I tell you that I read up on the potions last night."

Theodore groans. "You are terrible at partner work."

"I'm not terrible at anything."

"And you call me arrogant."

She sighs and leans forward, placing her elbows on the table. "Look, it saves us time. I read about the basics of each and the most essay-worthy, in my opinion, is The Shrinking Solution. Did you know that if brewed incorrectly it becomes poisonous? I find that quite interesting because how does it's original purpose, shrinking the drinker, jump to being deadly to them because of a slight mistake in the process? No one has discovered why, yet so we could add how theories on the 'how' to make the essay better."

Lyra finishes her explanation and waits for his response.

Theodore nods. "Okay. I agree."

"Really?" She perks up, eyes wide.

"Really." He echos. Theodore will never tell her, but his crush on her just reached a height it can never come down from.

"Um, wow. Okay." Lyra coughs. "I was expecting more of a fight. Now we should list the things we want to talk about-"

"Wait." Theodore opens his potion textbook where a piece of loose parchment sits. "I wrote down what Snape wanted in the essay when he said it." He takes it out and dips his quill in the ink, drawing a line. "I can write on the first half and you, the second."

Lyra takes the parchment when he hands it to her and reads its context, secretly impressed and envious that he remembered to write it down.

She quickly writes down her half on a separate page before giving his half back. "Good, we will use tonight to research and tomorrow to write. Then we give each other our halves and edit them over the weekend and meet on Sunday night to write the final. I have the neatest handwriting so I will write that, and you will sign. Got it?"

"Got it. Except I have the neatest handwriting, therefore I will write the final."

"In what world is your handwriting neater?" Lyra asks. "Look." She places the two pages next to each other, now standing and leaning over the table to show him. "You write like a goblin."

"Oh yeah?" He looks away from the pages to her, the feeling of his hot breath on her cheek making Lyra turn her head too.

"Yes."

"Well, you write like mental patient."

"Oh, shut up." Lyra glares. "Talk to me when you find a better comeback." She walks away with her page to find the books she needs.

Ten minutes pass and Lyra only has two books. The third she wants is on a higher shelf that, unluckily, even her on her toes can't reach.

"I can get that for you." A voice says from behind and a glove covered hand takes the book off the shelf with ease.

"Oh. Thank you." Lyra turns around and smiles when she sees the familiar boy. "Erik! It's nice to see you again."

"Lyra, it's good to see you too." Erik grins, pearly white teeth on display. "This is yours. Potions?" He hands her the book, their fingers touching.

"Yes, I'm writing an essay on The Shrinking Solution." Lyra says, blushing from the contact.

"I've never heard of it, but it must be interesting if someone like you is writing about it." He leans against the bookshelf.

"Someone like me?" She tilts her head.

"Word around Hogwarts is that you're the smartest in your year." Erik smiles.

"Around Hogwarts, huh?" She gives him a look.

"Alright, maybe not Hogwarts but the Giffindors that I asked." He rubs the back of his neck, and she laughs.

"Gryffindors." She corrects.

Erik grows pink. "Wow, I suck at this..." He mumbles to himself but Lyra is close enough to hear.

"What do you mean?"

Erik clears his throat, about to answer her but he lets out a yell instead, flinching away and placing a hand on his head. "OUCH!"

Lyra's eyes widen. "Erik! Are you okay?" She moves closer. "What was that?"

Still with a hand to the top of his head, Erik winces. "Something fell on my head." He looks up and frowns more. "Looks like a book fell."

Lyra spots the thick book on the floor and picks it up, inspecting it. "Odd." She says quietly and looks up at the spot it fell from, only a shelve above the one she couldn't reach. "Books don't just fall..."

Erik coughs and Lyra looks at him, briefly forgetting he is next to her and instantly feeling bad. "I think I'll just go get this checked out with the school nurse."

"You should, I'm sorry about the accident, though. Do you know where the Hospital Wing is?" Lyra questions.

His eyes light up and he smiles "No, I don't. I'll need someone to guide me.."

Lyra nods, looking over his shoulder and spotting someone. "Dean!" She whisper shouts and the boy looks at her and waves. "Come here."

Erik frowns, looking between the approaching boy and the girl who totally missed his hint. "Actually-"

"What's up, Ly?" Dean smiles, stopping next to her.

"Can you please show Erik to the Hospital Wing? He hit his head, and I can't take him because I'm working on an essay." Lyra asks, sending the injured boy an apologetic smile whilst doing so.

"Sure." Dean nods and slaps Erik's shoulder. "Come on then, mate. Erik, right?"

"Yeah.." Erik quickly looks at Lyra before following Dean. "I'll talk to you again."

"Okay." Lyra smiles, watching them leave. She looks at the book that hit him before letting it float back into its place. "Odd." She repeats, shaking her head before walking back to her table with her three books.

There, Theodore is already seated with a stack of his own books. The wicked smirk on his face is hard to miss.

"What's got you smirking?" She frowns, sitting down. "Do you have a better comeback, yet?"

"No." But he continues smirking to himself, smug about something Lyra doesn't have time to ask about.

"Then don't talk to me." Lyra ignores him and they get to work.

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The hall buzzes with chatter as everyone is gathered for the Champions Ceramony in the Great Hall. Lyra sits on the bench behind Harry and Ron, in between Wren and Neville with Luna behind her, leaning her head on her older sister's shoulder.

"So." Wren says, nudging her. "Who gave you the hoodie? It's obviously a boy."

Lyra looks at Neville exasperatedly. "Seriously?"

"I had to tell her!"

"Is it Nott's?"

"What? No!"

"I thought you didn't like him." Luna whispers and looks up at her.

"I don't. Ignore them, Lunes." Lyra whispers back.

"Just tell us. You're making this a bigger deal than it is, Ly. It really isn't bad at all." Neville tells her softly.

"Fine." She seethes and the high five above her head, eliciting a giggle from Luna. "Not now. Later."

Thankfully, Dumbledore speaks before any of her best friends could question her further. "Now the moment you've all been waiting for: The champion selection."

The fires dim to create a darker, more mysterious atmosphere and a hush of silence falls over the students. Wren gives her an excited look and Lyra smiles slightly before focusing on the first champion announcement.

"The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum!"

"Look, Ronnie. Your boyfriend got chosen." Lyra messes with his ginger hair and Ron smacks her hand away.

"Shut up!"

Hermione laughs along with Harry.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

"The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory!"

Their school, especially the girls and Hufflepuffs, go wild and Cedric goes to the front, where Viktor and Fleur disappeared.

"Excellent! We now have our three champions. But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory, the Triwizard Cup!"

Everyone gasps as another slip of paper is spat out by the Goblet. Lyra tenses. Dumbldore visibly frowns as he catches the name and reads it, first saying it so lowly that no one reacts until he yells.

"Harry Potter? Harry Potter!"

"Oh my god!" Wren says.

"No. No.." Harry shakes his head.

"Harry Potter!"

"Harry.." Lyra looks at him, confused, and he mirrors her expression.

"Go on, Harry." Hermione urges as people begin glaring at the group because Harry is sitting with them. Dumbledore stares at them too and Neville gulps.

"For Heavens sake, Harry." Hermione shoves him and he finally snaps out of it, getting up and walking towards the front.

"He can't catch a break, can he?" Lyra whispers worriedly but no one responds, all her friends too shocked to say anything.

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