IN THE MIDST OF A TYPICAL SCHOOL DAY, OLIVE was caught off guard by the sudden and dramatic entrance of Professor Snape. The door to their classroom was thrown open with such force it seemed to resonate throughout the room. Immediately following this, Snape proceeded to close every window in a swift, decisive manner. His commanding voice echoed through the room as he instructed, "Turn to page three-hundred-ninety-four."

Olive, surprised and slightly puzzled, shared a quick glance with Seamus before doing as instructed. She began flipping through the pages of her textbook, the soft rustling of paper filling the silent room until she found the page she was looking for. The topic for today's lesson was revealed: Werewolves. Olive's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but before she could question anything, Harry spoke up.

"Excuse me, sir. Where's Professor Lupin?" Harry asked, his voice echoing in the quiet classroom. Snape turned his gaze to Harry, causing Olive to let out a soft sigh. She knew exactly where her father was. It was the night of a full moon.

"That's not really your concern, is it, Potter?" Snape retorted, his tone icy. "Suffice it to say that your professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time. Turn to page three-hundred-ninety-four."

"Werewolves?" Ron questioned aloud, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as he stared at the page.

"But, Sir, we just begun learning about red caps and hinkypunks." Hermione pointed out, her tone respectful yet questioning. "We're not meant to start nocturnal beasts for weeks."

"Quiet." Snape silenced Hermione with a single word, before proceeding towards the front of the room. "Now, which one of you can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?" Olive's hand shot up immediately, followed by Hermione's. "No one?"

"Professor, please!" Olive pleaded, her desperation evident as she stretched her arm even higher. "An Animagus is a wizard who elects to turn into an animal. A werewolf has no choice. With each full moon, when he transforms, he no longer remembers who he is. He'd kill his best friend if he crossed his path, which is why many werewolves take a potion called wolfsbane so he is able to keep his mind while turning. Furthermore, the werewolf only responds to the call of its own kind."

A howling sound filled the room, causing Olive to roll her eyes softly. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." Snape acknowledged the Slytherin's contribution before turning his attention back to Olive.

"Ms. Lupin, I'm not sure what your father has taught you about being a proper student," Snape began, his gaze fixed on Olive. "But I will certainly hope you do not follow after him. Five points from Gryffindor."

Olive's jaw fell open in disbelief, "Sir, you cannot be serious-"

"Must I take more?" Snape interrupted, causing Olive to shake her head softly in defeat. "As an antidote to your ignorance, and on my desk, by Monday morning, two rolls of parchment on the werewolf, with particular emphasis on recognizing it."

Olive's eyes widened as she stared at Professor Snape. She already had a massive three-page essay on Cosmology due. How on earth could she manage to complete two demanding essays in a single weekend?

"Sir, it's Quidditch tomorrow." Harry spoke up, attempting to argue their case.

Snape quickly walked over to Harry's desk, leaning over it threateningly, "Then I suggest you take extra care, Mr. Potter. Loss of limb will not excuse you."

Feeling overwhelmed, Olive took a deep breath and leaned into Seamus, who wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You okay?" Olive shook her head gently, leaning even further into Seamus, seeking solace in his presence.

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Olive was silent, a marked contrast to her usual lively demeanor, as she walked alongside Dean, Seamus, and Neville. Each step she took seemed to echo the thoughts that were racing through her mind, ricocheting around like a pinball.

"Watch out," Dean, who was walking to her right, abruptly pulled her towards him as he noticed Olive almost walk into another student. His quick reflexes were all that stood between her and a potential collision.

"Thanks," Olive muttered, still seemingly lost in her thoughts as she continued to walk. The gratitude was brief, her attention already returning to her inner world. She let out a soft sigh, a small indication of the tension she was feeling, as the group of four approached the grand staircase, their path leading them towards the common room.

"Uh, I have to go study, but I'll see you guys at dinner," Olive quickly excused herself, a hint of urgency in her voice. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heels, her movements swift and determined, before scurrying off.

"Seamus?" Neville questioned, a look of concern etched on his face as the three friends watched Olive's retreating figure. "What happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Neville had noticed the way Olive sought comfort in Seamus during the lesson, while Snape was teaching, and now his curiosity was piqued. Could that have anything to do with her current behavior?

Seamus shook his head, a confused frown furrowing his brow. "I'm not sure. I asked her if she was okay and she just shook her head." The boy spoke, his tone filled with concern. "I think that's the first time I ever saw Olive be silent for more than five minutes."

Neville let out a puff of air, a physical manifestation of his worry, before he began walking, "I'll see you guys at dinner."

"See you," Seamus and Dean called after him, their voices echoing in the hallway before making their way up the stairs, each lost in their thoughts about their friend's unusual behavior.

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In a flurry of activity, Neville navigated the labyrinth of bookshelves, his eyes darting left and right as he desperately tried to locate Olive. As he veered into a secluded corner of the library, he gently called out her name, his voice barely above a whisper, "Olive? Liv?"

At a small table nestled among the towering bookshelves, Olive responded with a muted, "Hey." She seemed absorbed in her studies, her apology for her abrupt departure earlier was sincere. "Sorry I left so suddenly, but I really need to study," she explained, causing Neville's features to settle into a frown.

"It's alright, Liv," Neville reassured her, taking a seat beside her, his curiosity piqued by the array of books spread out on the table. "What are you studying?"

"Cosmology," Olive sighed, her fingers threading through her hair in frustration. "I've looked everywhere, and I can't find anything except these two books." Olive motioned to two books out of the multitude.

"What's Cosmology?" Neville asked, his lack of knowledge on the subject making Olive's lips twitch upwards in a half-smile.

"It's the scientific study of the origin, evolution, and eventual fate of the universe," Olive explained, her answer making Neville wince at the complexity of her studies.

"You're learning about the nature of the universe in Advanced Astrology? Just last week, weren't you studying the plants?" Neville asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as Olive picked up a book and rapidly flipped through a few pages.

"Indeed, we're moving at warp speed," Olive scoffed, her tone dry. "And yes, we're now exploring the mysteries of the universe. I'm enrolled in the Seventh-year Astronomy class." Olive admitted. She had a deep passion for Astronomy, she loved learning, but the overwhelming workload was becoming a burden.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she confessed, "I'm going to lose my mind, Bug," She closed the book in front of her with a thud, her frustration evident in her voice. "In this vast library, I can only find two books on Cosmology, and they look like they haven't been touched in decades. I am expected to write a three-scroll-long essay about the nature of the universe, and now on top of that, I have to write a two-scroll-long essay on werewolves. Plus, we have a Quidditch game tomorrow, and we had plans to hang out this weekend! It's all too much, Neville."

A sharp "shush" from a nearby student made Olive spin around, her retort swift and fierce, "You shush!" Her glare sent the second-year student scurrying away.

"Alright, come on," Neville sighed, rising from his seat and extending his hand for Olive to take. "We're going to the Common Room. You need a break from these essays."

"No," Olive shook her head vehemently. "You don't understand, Bug. I need to study."

"Olive-"

"I need to study," Olive's voice was sharper than she intended. The startled look on Neville's face made her quickly apologize, "Look, Bug...I just... I need to study, okay?"

Neville seemed to take the hint, giving her a soft nod. "Okay." Without another word, he swiftly collected his bag from the table and retreated, leaving Olive alone with her studies.

"Neville," Olive started to call out to him, but he was already out of sight. "I didn't mean to snap..." she whispered, her gaze falling on the empty seat next to her. Fear and regret washed over her as she took a shaky breath, her elbows resting on the table and her face buried in her hands. "No. No. No. Please, no," she pleaded softly to herself as she felt the tell-tale signs of an impending panic attack.

As her breaths became more labored, she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, seeking comfort and trying to mimic the soothing presence of her father during her anxiety attacks. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her vision began to blur, her mind consumed by a whirlwind of fear and panic.

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Olive could feel the aches permeating through every fiber of her body as she laboriously made her way towards the common room. Her eyes, red and swollen from the tears she had shed, stung with every blink. She was acutely aware of the tear stains likely marring her cheeks, but she was too physically and emotionally exhausted to even think about fixing her appearance. Her hair was a wild, untamed mess - a clear testament to the number of times her hands had found their way into it, pulling at the strands.

"Fortuna Major," Olive muttered, just barely loud enough for the Fat Lady to hear. The painted lady looked at Olive, her concern evident in her eyes.

"My dear girl, are you alright?" The painting asked, her voice filled with worry. However, Olive simply ignored the question and walked into the common room, leaving the Fat Lady behind.

The moment Olive entered the room, George's eyes widened in surprise and concern. He had been sitting in front of the fireplace, engrossed in casual conversation with a fellow Gryffindor, but now his attention was solely on Olive. "Olive?" he asked, quickly rising to his feet. "What happened?"

Olive opened her mouth to respond, but the familiar feeling of her throat constricting stopped her. Her eyes welled up with tears as she stared at George's chest, the height difference between them making it difficult for her to meet his gaze.

Seeing Olive in such a distraught state, George quickly wrapped an arm around her, gently guiding her towards her dormitory. Upon entering the room and seeing Lavender and Hermione, George issued a firm command. "Get out."

Lavender, clearly taken aback, scoffed. "Excuse me? This is our dorm."

Undeterred, George repeated his command, his voice stern and unyielding. "Get. Out."

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Hermione quickly ushered Lavender out of the room. Before leaving, she turned back to George, her voice filled with concern. "Let me know after, yeah?" George simply nodded in response. Once the girls were out of the room and the door had been shut, George turned his attention back to Olive.

"Come on, talk to me," he urged, leading Olive to her bed. Olive simply shook her head, crawling backwards until she was sat against her headboard. George followed suit, sitting next to her. "You gotta talk to me, Liv. We promised no secrets, remember?"

Finally, Olive found the courage to speak. "I snapped at Neville," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

George chuckled softly at her words. "That's what this is about? I'm sure he'll forgive you."

But Olive shook her head, adamant. "You don't understand. I snapped at him, George. I never snap at him. Merlin, I don't even raise my voice at him."

Remembering their recent interactions, George questioned, "Weren't you just yelling at him to suck it yesterday?"

"Yes, but we were only messing around then," Olive sniffled, tears welling in her eyes again. "You should have seen the look on his face, George. He looked scared of me. He looked at me like I was a Slytherin."

Seeing Olive so upset, George quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "Hey," he said softly, "you're not some Slytherin. You're Olive! The sunshine. The beacon of light in the darkness." Olive nuzzled into George's chest, seeking comfort in his warmth. "Now, wipe those tears, and show me that signature smile."

Olive shook her head, her face still buried in George's chest. "No."

Feeling a mischievous smirk tug at the corners of his mouth, George poked Olive's side. A soft giggle escaped from Olive, causing a smile to grace George's face. "There's the sound I love to hear!" He poked her side again, eliciting another giggle.

"Stop it!" Olive laughed, trying to wiggle out of George's grasp, but he only held on tighter, continuing to poke her side. "Stop! Please!" Olive pleaded between bouts of laughter. "George! Please!"

Finally relenting, George let go of Olive. "Alright, alright. Now, why don't you go apologize to Neville so everything can go back to normal?"

Nodding in agreement, Olive wiped her tears away with her hands. "Okay. Come with me?"

George gave a nod in response. "I'll walk you to the dorm, but then you're on your own."

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Olive took in a deep, calming breath before her knuckles met the weathered wooden door. She knocked gently, her heart pounding in her chest. The door creaked open, revealing the familiar face of Ron. "Liv?" Ron questioned, confusion etched onto his sleepy face as he rubbed his eyes.

"Did I wake you?" Olive questioned, her eyes scanning Ron's face, taking in his ruffled hair and half-lidded eyes. Understanding dawned on her as Ron nodded in response, letting out a sleepy yawn. "I'm sorry," Olive quickly apologized, her words tumbling out. Ron simply waved a hand dismissively.

"Let me guess," Ron started, a knowing look in his eyes. "You're here for Neville?" Olive nodded in affirmation, a shy smile playing on her lips. "I'll go get him. One second." Olive watched as Ron shut the door, leaving her alone with her racing thoughts. She took another deep breath, trying to steady her nerves as muffled voices floated out from behind the door.

"Hey, Bug." Olive greeted softly as the door opened again to reveal Neville. "Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, of course." Neville responded, stepping out of the doorway and closing the door behind him, sealing off the world behind him.

"I just wanted to say sorry," Olive began, her voice shaking slightly. "And before you say anything, I know I had no right to snap at you. But I was really stressed, and I had a lot on my mind, and I don't want you to think I'm making excuses–"

"Woah. Woah. Woah." Neville cut Olive off, placing his hands on her arms in a comforting gesture. "It's alright, Liv." Neville reassured her, a soft, understanding smile on his face.

"Really?" Olive asked quietly, her eyes searching Neville's, seeking reassurance. Neville nodded in response, his smile never wavering. "You're a gift." Olive confessed, her smile returning as she pulled the boy into a warm hug. "What did I do to deserve such an amazing best friend?" Olive grinned, ignoring the pang of heartache at the words 'Best Friend'.

"I don't know, Liv." A small frown creased Neville's forehead, only visible for a brief moment before it was replaced by a warm smile as the two pulled away. "But the real question is, what did I do to deserve such an amazing best friend?" Neville questioned, mirroring Olive's earlier words, and like her, ignoring the painful tug in his heart at the dreadful words 'Best Friend'.

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AUTHOR NOTE – i understand that Olive is very sensitive.
but there is a very good reason for why i made her so
sensitive. :)