#side quest

Draco Malfoy

Studying for your class had never been harder. You were on the verge of failing the class entirely, and it really didn’t help that Draco was sitting right beside you, constantly taking loud, snide jabs at Potter.

"Oi, Potter," Draco sneered, leaning across the aisle just enough for his voice to carry. "Surprised you managed to find the classroom without Granger holding your hand. Or did you get lost on the stairs again?"

Harry snapped, turning around in his seat with a scowl. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy. At least I don't need my father to buy my way into every room I walk into."

"Watch your tone, Potter," Draco hissed, his grey eyes narrowing. "You think you're untouchable just because the Daily Prophet treats you like some sort of tragic hero? You're a menace."

"And you're a pathetic git," Harry shot back, his knuckles turning white around his quill.

"Can you all just pipe down?!" you snapped, finally hitting your limit. You glared fiercely at the two of them. "Are we not in here for our class?"

Harry instantly looked struck, a flash of guilt crossing his face as he looked away. Draco, however, just stared at you, his mouth agape in sheer shock that someone had actually dared to talk down to him.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing.

The professor strode into the room not long after, forcing the class to finally settle down. Still, the ambient whispering didn't stop. Eyes kept darting your way, the rest of the students completely staggered by your sheer audacity to yell at two of the school's most notorious boys.

With an irritated scowl, you furiously scribbled notes, pressing down so hard you nearly snapped the nib of your quill. Your neck was stiff and aching from constantly jerking your head back and forth between the blackboard and your parchment, trying desperately to catch up on everything you'd missed during the row.

The moment the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, you packed up your things with unnecessary force. Before leaving, you threw a blistering glare at the two boys. Deep down, you knew your grades weren't entirely their fault, but right now, you blamed them completely. You were thoroughly vexed. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you stormed out of the classroom without a single word, your boots clicking loudly against the stone floor as you stomped down the corridor.

he's uncomfortable because he's not used to being in trouble

has no idea what to do when you give him a bad look much more raise your voice

he's not the type to apologize

he gives gifts instead

he will keep giving gifts about whatever you got mad about and talk to you more until you forgive him

Blaise Zabini

A sharp knock sounded at your door, and you knew instantly who it was.

The moment you swung the door open, Blaise strode right past you into your room. Without a word of explanation, he snatched up the parchment and essays you had been working on from your desk, turned around, and scooped you clean off your feet.

"W-what on earth—Blaise! Put me down this instant!" you cried, kicking your legs and struggling against his chest.

"I am incredibly sorry I didn't send a message about the extra Quidditch practice," Blaise murmured smoothly, effortlessly carrying you out into the corridor. "Tell you what—I’ll look over the research and help you finish the essay over at the Three Broomsticks. My treat, completely."

You stopped thrashing against him, though your arms remained tightly crossed over your chest, a deep scowl firmly fixed on your face.

"I truly didn't mean to stand you up, love," Blaise added, his voice dropping to a softer, reassuring tone as he looked down at you. "I'll do the rest of paper work, and whatever else you need me to do to make it up to you."

"I am going to order absolutely everything on the menu while you do that entire essay by yourself," you threatened, huffing as you gave his back a firm, reprimanding swat. "And you are paying every single Knut of my tab."

"Yes, ma'am," Blaise chuckled, a brilliant, lazy smirk flashing across his handsome face as he finally set your feet back down on the stone floor.

He's the most normal

doesnt need theatrics for forgiveness he knows you and he knows you care about everyone you'd forgive them if they're sincere

he knows how to handle you and can handle you

he had an excuse to take you on a date and took it

he felt bad you worked on majority of the paper that will cost both your grades him treating you out was not his theatrics

Theodore Nott

A series of hurried, frantic knocks echoed through your dormitory. You frowned, knowing exactly who it was before you even crossed the room.

Stomping over to the door, you wrenched it open and glared fiercely at Theodore Nott.

"What do you want?" you demanded, crossing your arms.

Theo cleared his throat, adjusting his robes before giving you a remarkably grand, sweeping bow. "I am well aware of how much you adore the Muggle world and their peculiar culture. Therefore, I have taken inspiration from their finest customs to formulate my apology."

You blinked, utterly baffled as to why he was bringing up such a random fact at your doorstep.

"Muffliato! " Theo cast quickly, pointing his wand at the corridor to ensure privacy. He then snapped his fingers. "Enzo, hit it!"

Lorenzo Berkshire strolled out from around the corner, hoisting an enormous, clunky Muggle boombox onto his shoulder while peering through the viewfinder of a video camera. A loud, incredibly cheesy Muggle pop song about saying sorry began to blast from the speakers.

Right there in the middle of the corridor, Theodore began to dance. You had absolutely no idea how he had conceived this ridiculous plan, or where on earth he had learned those absurd steps, but his straight-faced seriousness made it ten times worse.

A burst of laughter escaped your lips; you couldn't hold it back if you tried.

"Theo, stop it!" you giggled, leaning against the doorframe.

With a dramatic flourish, Theo dropped to his knees, bowing his head sharply and raising his hands above him like a defeated knight offering a trophy. Resting in his palms was your barrette.

"Reparo wasn't working on the clasp—I reckon there's some sort of stubborn charm on it," Theo explained from the floor, completely breathless. "But I learned how Muggles fix these things manually, with a bit of wire and sheer willpower. I fixed it myself. Look, I truly am sorry for messing about with your things and breaking it."

You took the repaired barrette from his hands, the lingering annoyance completely melting away. You smiled down at him. "Come on, then. Put it in my hair?"

Theodore beamed, his eyes lighting up as he scrambled excitedly to his feet. He took the clip, gently securing it back into your hair with surprising care.

Once he was finished, he reached into his robes, pulled out a heavy velvet pouch—which clinked loudly with what you assumed were Galleons—and tossed it over to Lorenzo.

Enzo caught the pouch with a grin, lowering the camera. "Brilliant," he smirked, turning on his heel. "I'm off to show this video to the entire common room."

he's scared but not of you more like what you might do (ignore him, cut him off, blah blah)

He thinks muggles are your favorite culture (it is you tell him about everything you find out about them)

he is always over the top with his apologies because he doesnt know how

he learned his apologies from rom coms you watched together

he was supposed to serenade you like the movies but he recently watched a dancing movie with you and chose to dance instead

Theodore and Lorenzo usually bribe each other for favors

he's very childish with his apologies

he may or may not just want to make you laugh

Tom Riddle

The corridor was nearly deserted, save for two students whispering at the far end, when you spotted Tom standing before a glass display trophy cabinet.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle III!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the stone walls as you marched fiercely toward him, completely ignoring the middle name he despised.

A terrifying aura seemed to shift around him as he turned. His glare was sharp enough to cut glass, but the moment his eyes landed on you, his murderous expression faltered, twisting instead into sheer, irritated confusion.

"YN," he replied coldly, slipping his hands into his robes pockets.

"We had a deal! No secrets!" you fumed, stopping right in front of him, your chest heaving with anger. "Why on earth did you hide the fact that you’re still meeting with them? With those... You know what. You swear blind that you're just studying, and then I find out you're sneaking off into the dungeons to play dark lord with your father's little cult! You look me in the eye and lie to me, Tom, and I am absolutely sick of it! Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? How reckless?"

Tom didn't utter a single sound. He didn't blink. He simply stared down his nose at you, his face a flawless mask of detachment. Then, without a word of defense, he stepped to the side, brushed past you, and began to walk away, leaving you completely baffled.

"What on earth? Tom!" you cried out, spinning around.

Tom paused. He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes flashing with the coldest glare you had ever seen—at least, the coldest he had ever directed at you.

"You do not yell at me. Especially not in public," he said, his tone quiet, precise, and utterly lethal. "If you intend to continue making a scene and throwing an emotional tantrum, I shall remove myself from the situation. When you have calmed yourself down, you may message me. Until then, do not follow me."

He turned on his heel and walked away, his dark robes billowing slightly behind him.

never raise your voice at him

he's pissed off

you can't scold or get mad at him

he's the type to walk out and not talk to you when you're mad

not because he doesn't respect you its just he thinks he will say (or worse do) something bad if he gets mad at you

will try his best to calm down when youre mad at him

he will approach you when you want to talk calmly rather than enraged

he will make the first move always because he knows he shouldn't walk out but he just hates heat of the moment arguments

he will message you every 30 minutes asking if you've calmed down or if you're ready to talk

will be more affectionate when you're calmer because he knows he shouldn't have walked away

Mattheo Riddle

"Mattheo! I told you to stop it with the bloody fights!" you cried, your voice echoing sharply down the deserted corridor. "Are you actively trying to get expelled?! Do my words just mean absolutely nothing to you anymore? You—"

Your voice fell short, the words dying in your throat as Mattheo stepped forward with terrifying speed. His hand slammed against the cold stone wall right beside your ear, the force of it pinning you completely in place.

"Can you perhaps not yell at me, gorgeous?" he murmured. A slow, lazy smile spread across his handsome face, but there was a brilliant, dangerous glint in his dark eyes that made your chest tighten with adrenaline.

Your breath caught completely.

His expression softened, just a fraction, as he reached up to gently twine a strand of your hair around his fingers, leaning down to press a lingering kiss against the crown of your head. "I am sorry about the row," he whispered, his rough voice sending a shiver down your spine. "But the gits pissed me off. They were speaking about you."

Slowly, he reached down and took your hand, guiding your palm up until it was pressed flat against his cheek, leaning into your touch like a man starved. "Don't look at me like that, baby. I'm sorry. Don't be frightened of me."

Hearing the slight, hidden desperation in his voice, you let out a long, defeated sigh, your tense shoulders finally beginning to relax against the wall.

"Stop getting into fights," you muttered, throwing a firm, warning glare up at him, though the anger had mostly melted away.

Mattheo turned his head slightly, pressing a soft, reverent kiss into the palm of your hand before nodding. His dark eyes locked onto yours, full of a fierce, unhinged devotion.

"Anything my darling wishes, I shall fulfill," he promised smoothly.

For now, at least.

doesnt like being yelled at

He's literally Tom but barely restrained

when he realizes youre scared he becomes more affectionate (but kinda comes off possessive)

he tries but fails to keep his emotions in check

he's actually sorry about this he hates getting you upset but he never had to deal with caring about whether someone is upset so he doesnt know how to deal with it

he will repeat it again yes but he will try his best to avoid it

riddles are not green flags in these moments

Lorenzo Berkshire

"Lorenzo Ber—"

Before you could even finish shouting his full name across the boys' dormitory, Lorenzo dropped straight to his knees right in front of you, snatching your hand in his.

"I apologize unreservedly for everything and anything wrong I have ever done," he pleaded, looking up at you with wide, desperate eyes. "Please forgive my utter impudence, princess. I meant absolutely no ill by my actions—I wouldn’t dare dream of upsetting you!"

Before you could even process his sudden theatrics, Theodore slipped up behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and began to massage them, trying to knead away your tension.

"Whatever’s gone wrong, it definitely wasn’t Enzo’s fault, pretty girl," Theo chimed in smoothly, his voice a soothing purr. "Just look at him. He’s completely pitiful right now, isn’t he? Does that face look like it belongs to someone who would willingly cause you a moment's grief?"

You looked down, utterly bewildered. True to Theo's words, Lorenzo was staring up at you with a remarkably convincing expression of pure, tragic regret.

"You don't even know what—"

"You stormed in here ready to use his full government name," Blaise scoffed from across the room. He was lounging back in an armchair, smirking as he watched the spectacle unfold. "All that git needs to know is that you're cross with him, and he instantly reverts into a groveling puppy."

"It’s true!" Lorenzo insisted, squeezing your hand tightly. "I am a humbled servant at your mercy, Y/N. If I’ve ruined your day, I shall never forgive myself. Tell me how to make amends! Do you want me to nick some tarts from the kitchens? Prank a Gryffindor?"

"See? He’s willing to risk detention for life just to see you smile," Theo added, his hands still working on your shoulders as he leaned in close. "Cut the bloke some slack, yeah? He’s practically trembling."

You let out a loud, defeated groan, finally giving up. Shrugging Theo’s hands off your shoulders, you yanked your hand away from Lorenzo and pulled him back up to his feet. Exhausted by their absolute nonsense, you threw yourself backward, crashing onto his neatly made four-poster bed.

"Never mind," you muttered into the mattress.

he never lets you get upset

hed beg for forgiveness before you could even let him know you were

Lorenzo gave Theodore a few galleons when you crashed to his bed

he was sincere with his apologies and so was his groveling puppy bit

Pansy Parkinson

Walking back to your dormitory after the final lesson of the day, you froze. Someone was slumped against the stone wall right next to your door, their face buried deeply in a bundle of black cloth that they were clutching like a lifeline.

They must have caught the sound of your approaching footsteps, because they slowly lifted their head.

It was Pansy. Your breath hitched. Her eyes and the tip of her nose were a raw, angry red, and her lips trembled the moment she saw you. Her grip on the fabric—which you now realized was your spare school robes—tightened until her knuckles turned white.

You were still deeply upset with her, but seeing her look so utterly broken made your stomach twist. A conflicted wave of emotion washed over you.

"Y/N..." she whimpered, her voice cracking. "I’m so sorry..."

She wasn't actively crying anymore. Looking at how flushed and puffy her face was, it looked as though she had simply cried herself completely dry before you arrived.

With shaking hands, she reached upward, holding out your robes to you like a peace offering.

"I'm so sorry, please don't hate me," she sniffled, her usual proud voice reduced to a desperate plea. "I'll stay away from your things. I won't even come near your room, I swear it! Just... please don't hate me. Don't stop being my friend..."

You let out a long, defeated sigh, the last of your anger evaporating. You took the robes from her hands and reached down, gently pulling her up from the cold stone floor.

"I wouldn't stop being your friend over something like this, Pans. Don't be daft," you cooed softly, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. "We're alright. I promise."

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled against your shoulder, burying her face into your neck.

You held her close, pressing a comforting kiss to her temple. "We're okay. Come on, let's get you inside out of the corridor."

She was scared

she tried approaching you in your class but got scared

she saw how you were smiling and she thought youd never do that around her anymore because of what she did

she confided to blaise and draco (who scared her saying you hate her making her cry on the way to your dorm)

you're her only friend (in her mind she thinks the others were just because of their family connections) so she was absolutely scared of losing you

Masterlist

Hiii I wasnt expecting a request I got so excited about it I hope it was what you're looking for

I didn't know how to do it. i was going to do a more written version to show how angry you actually were but it was gonna get repetitive and feel too long if they were all written so i had some text

I added some personal notes on the end of each to tell more about how they are

the Riddles were my favorite to write because i like the idea I had of them I was gonna write Tom worse but I felt like he'd be more composed with my story

Side Quests are only for requests I dont think I'd write any on my own so if you liked these you can send an ask or a message or whatever I'm down for request i love getting interactions from you guys <3

thank you for your support guys ily all

-kookiedough

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