A/N: So. I've had this headcanon for quite some time now, but have been a bit wary in posting it. It's TWW meets Hogwarts, and I've built a universe for it? In any case, this is a one-shot set in said universe (there are more, including a multi-chapter thing that's freaking me out). Who's in which house should be easy to figure out; if you're stuck, shoot me a review or a message (and yes, I have extensively thought about this).


elementary

"Josh. Joshua, Josh, Josh, Josh. Josh."

There's an insistent prodding and a sudden flurry of movement as the pages of his book whip up and slap him across his face. He jerks awake, disoriented and feeling the impress of his quill against his cheek. He rubs his eyes furiously and peers through his fingers.

"What the fu—" He looks up and sees the blonde witch with a self-satisfied smirk calmly flick her wand one last time and stow it away. The book stops moving and he glares at it.

"Language, Josh."

"Yeah, yeah. What are you doing here?"

She shrugs and settles into the seat across from him. "I was on the pitch with CJ, Danny, and Ainsley. We finished up half an hour ago. Ainsley and I were hungry, and we ran into Sam near the kitchens. Ainsley stayed, obviously," she says, rolling her eyes. "But Sam said you were up here and you skipped dinner. So, here you go," she finishes, depositing a mug of cold coffee and a sandwich in front of him.

"Thanks," he says, greedily reaching for the offering. "You guys still training with them?"

"It's a good idea," she says, a little defensively. "Just because Danny and I are on a different team doesn't mean—"

"—No, I know, I was just…" He trails off, swallowing his mouthful. "I don't even have time to go to my regular training, and you guys are doing your cute inter-house training thing."

"We're gonna beat you next game," Donna says triumphantly.

"Not surprising, to be honest," he grins wryly. "Ravenclaw, on the other hand…"

"Hey, they're actually good this year. CJ's done a lot with her team."

"It's been seven weeks since term started. What is she doing? Actually, what am I doing? I can't even finish this goddamn essay and I'm also meant to be training with my team – because damned if I'm going to let anyone, let alone Haffley, take my spot – and McGarry wants me to start up that club for ministry and political engagement, whatever in Merlin's name that is, and Hoynes hates me, I mean, I'm in his fucking house and he docked me points for arguing back in his history class, but honestly, how anyone could argue that class inequality wasn't a factor in the dwarf rebellion and extinction is seriously beyond me, and why is everyone so goddamn slow when they walk to class, like, it's beyond all comprehension—"

"—Josh," she says, placing a warm hand on his arm. "Stop. You're rambling."

He exhales. "Yeah."

"Okay. So, CJ's fantastic, and you know that, and why are you surprised that her team's actually starting to get their act together after she made captain? Your team hasn't actually started training yet, and you don't need to worry because nobody's forgotten that sneaky feint that Haffley pulled last year, and even Hoynes doesn't want that happening again. Speaking of whom, he docks points left, right, and centre from everyone, and since when did you care about points? Anyway, it's just a class, and you know your stuff, probably more than he does," she says, watching him closely, voice unwavering. "You know McGarry's trying to get more students actively involved in affairs outside of Hogwarts, and he knows you and Toby are the best people to organise it, and you know that he's not gonna drop you in the deep end, and you're not going to let him down. So it's fine, Josh, okay?"

"And as to why everyone's so slow in the corridors?" He asks, a small smile playing at his mouth.

She laughs. "Merlin knows. But that's probably just you. You have a tendency to just run everyone over anyway."

He nods in agreement, glances over at her, following the line of her hand still on his arm, up to her face. "Hang on, that's mine," he says, reaching for the faded green scarf looped around her neck.

"Yes, yes, it is," she replies, rolling her eyes. "Very observant of you, Josh."

"People are gonna think that you're, I dunno—"

"—People have long stopped caring, Josh. In any case, it's warm."

"Well, where's yours?"

"In my room. Yours was in my bag for some reason, so here we are."

"You steal my food, you steal my scarf—"

"—and I help you with your potions homework," she says, eyeing the book and half-written essay. "That's why you're here so late, yeah?"

"I fucking hate potions," he scowls, finishing the rest of the sandwich and gulping the coffee in one.

"Yeah, I know," she smirks. "And I'm pretty sure that Professor Bartlet knows you get significant help with your assignments."

"Oh yeah, she definitely knows," he grins, sliding her a marked essay. "See, look at the comment on this one – very good point, Donna, but if you at least told Josh to rewrite it in his own words, he might have taken an extra minute to fool me, and thus might have received an extra half-grade – I mean, I may as well be the messenger here."

She snorts. "I love her. She's the best."

"You only say that because you're actually good at the subject. She's terrifying. And I'm in her house, too."

"She's brilliant, and she doesn't put up with your monomaniacal and egotistical crap."

"Yeah, well, can you help?" He looks at her hopefully.

She sighs, pulling the parchment towards her and wrestling the quill from his fingers. "You owe me."

"Too many times to count," he agrees, voice hoarse with relief.

They sit in silence for the next fifteen minutes, save for the faint scratching of the quill against the parchment. He feels his eyes dropping shut again, before she nudges him gently. She hands him the essay, complete with her almost illegible comments scrawled in the margin.

"Before you make another crack about how you can't read my writing, hear me out," she says, cutting him off as he opens his mouth to speak. "I haven't actually written the thing for you. It's a foot-long essay, but I think I should have given you enough notes for another six inches. And bear in mind that I haven't studied this yet; if you're covering this now, then chances are I won't get to it until next year. So if I'm wrong, then I'm sorry, but look, Professor Bartlet already knows that I'm indispensable to your success. But, the topic's on the principles behind healing potions, which is fairly universal. I mean, I didn't cover the minutiae – seriously, I could have gone on – so this should be good enough for, let me guess, tomorrow morning?"

He stares at her for a moment. "You're amazing, you know that, right?"

She blushes and ducks her head. "As long as you remember."

"Seriously, Donnatella," he says, and she jumps slightly at the use of her full name. "You are."

"Okay, well, as amazing as I am, I've also got my own defence essay to write, so I think I'm gonna head back. You coming?"

"Yeah, just let me pack up," he says, standing and shoving everything into his backpack. "I think Sam and Toby are hosting the game of Exploding Poker tonight. Want to join?"

"Defence essay, Josh."

He shrugs, following her out of the library and into the dimly lit corridor. "You'll be fine. If you can write a fourth year potions essay in fifteen minutes, you can do a third year defence one in less time."

"You do know that I didn't actually write the essay for you, right?"

"Okay, so we can both fold after a few rounds – because really, they know I have a terrible poker face anyway, and I'm not going to voluntarily give up more money than I should to them – and we can finish the essays," he says, flashing her a dimpled smile.

She feels a grin tugging at her lips. "Fine, okay then."

"Great," he says enthusiastically, grabbing her hand and tugging her forward, all tiredness forgotten. "I think CJ's gonna be there, maybe Charlie and Zoey too. Sam and Ainsley have got the snacks. If I make more than what I start with, I'll buy you that broom kit next time we go to Hogsmeade."

"Josh, it's fine, I already said I'm coming," she laughs, the noise echoing off the ancient walls.

"That's the spirit, Donna," he grins again at her, leading the way towards the warmth of the Hufflepuff common room.