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#dumbledore's army
starchaserdreams · 2 months
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I want to start a club called the Anti-Dumbledore Army, who's with me?
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crackishincorrecthp · 2 months
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Harry, to the DA: Alright, listen up you little shits! Harry: Not you, Luna. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here
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McGonagall after discovering whatever shit's going on at Hogwarts this year:
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ginnyw-potter · 3 months
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Patronus Written for @hinnymicrofic, January prompt 21: Try
It was odd to have the DA members back together, most of them anyway. While many managed to conjure a Patronus back then, after the war a lot of them struggled with the charm. Struck with grief, it was sometimes difficult to think of a happy enough memory to manage.
Harry had struggled with it too during the Battle, but he was still instructing the rest of them. They were happy to listen.
“You must really conjure that happy memory,” Harry told them. “So you can feel it in your core. It is the most powerful magic you can use against Dementors, and it is bloody useful to send messages—as we’ve all found out.” He turned to the group. “Go ahead and try.”
They all raised their wand. Luna was one of the first to manage to conjure a corporeal patronus, and this encouraged the others too. He slowly walked to Ginny.
“Did you try yet?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “But neither have you.”
He nodded quietly. He was afraid to fail in front of the group. She looked around her and then pulled Harry in, snogging him. Several people let out a little whoop at it and he was sure he heard Ron let out an exasperated sigh.
She let him go, smiling and then she raised her wand. “Expecto Patronum!”
Her horse patronus leapt out of her wand and circled the both of them.
“I didn’t know kissing the teacher was part of the instructions!” Ron told her.
She threw a cheeky grin towards her brother. “I thought it would help.”
“A few more people are struggling over there,” Ron said, pointing behind him. “Maybe they need a kiss too, Harry.”
“Alright, alright,” Harry said. “You made your point.”
He turned back to Ginny and she looked at him expectantly. He sighed and raised his wand.
Ginny grabbed his hand. “Go on.”
He didn’t need to conjure a memory, he looked into her brown eyes and allowed the feeling of happiness and love to fill him completely. Then he spoke the spell.
His stag leapt from his wand moments later. It bowed to Ginny’s horse and Ginny let out a chuckle. Both patronuses chased each other, taking turns as they bounded around the room.
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OoTP, Chapter 4 - Choosing Sides
Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader
Warnings: vague hints at abusive parents (I mean it's Lucius Malfoy)
Masterlist
Word Count: 4291
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After Herbology, you tried to catch Draco on his way out.  He seemed preoccupied, and his friends trailed behind him, guffawing over some trinket they tossed back and forth, but he ignored them and you.  They turned away from the castle and you gave up; it wasn’t worth it being late to Potions.
Perhaps you could write him a letter and send it in the post, you thought, absentmindedly stirring the contents of your cauldron.  That should be discreet enough.  It still irked you that you couldn’t just talk to him like a person, but in all truth, you didn’t really want people knowing you were associating with each other either.  He had something of a reputation.
Though by the end of Double Potions you had formulated a plan, as you left the classroom you caught a glimpse of that unmistakable silver hair and green robes turning a corner down the corridor.  You pretended to have left your quill behind, and peeled off from your friends and the stream of students heading to lunch.  The soft pattering of your shoes on the cold stone floor must’ve given you away, for when you turned that same corner, Draco was leaning against the wall, arms folded, waiting for you.
“Why are you following me?”  He looked somewhat harried; his hair hung slightly awry, and the shirt under his sweater vest was uncharacteristically wrinkled.
You stopped, confused.  “I wanted to talk without having to send you a notarized letter.”  His eyes narrowed.  “I had just forgotten that this weekend was Hogsmeade, and I wondered if we could push our meeting to Sunday.”
“Oh.  Sure that’s fine.”  He paused, weighing his words.  “I actually, uh, I’ve changed my mind.  I’ve decided I’d like to work for the Ministry, so I won’t need Herbology after all, so don’t worry about it.”
“What are you talking about?  Is this because I want to reschedule?”
“Don’t be daft,” he snapped.  “I can’t really picture myself doing something so undignified, working for goblins.  The Ministry will be a much better fit for someone of my family’s standing.”
“I see,” you said quietly, taken aback by the venom in his words.
Draco continued quickly, “It’s just that I’ll have more important, more relevant things to focus on, and-and-and you probably do too.”
You nodded curtly, “We agreed we wouldn’t be friends.  You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”  You paused before turning on your heel, “Good luck.”
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Saturday morning came early, Wilbur purring on your chest with his wet nose sniffing at your closed eyes.
“Cat, one day you’re going to startle me so much I throw you off this bed, and it’ll be no one’s fault but yours.”  He sat up, tail curled regally around him, waiting.  “I can’t give you treats if you’re on top of me.  Yes, yes I know.”  You threw back the bed curtains and glanced at the enchanted windows.  It was still somehow before dawn; everyone else was still asleep.  You tsked at Wilbur, setting two treats beside him on your bed, and dressed quietly.  You eased your broom out from under your bed and slunk out of your dormitory, then through the round painting door.
Almost a full week into October, the pre-dawn air was bracing as it whipped around you and your broom.  The Quidditch pitch was deserted, thankfully, as it was the only area that allowed unsupervised flying on the whole grounds.  There was nothing you wanted more than to fly through the trees and over the lake, but if anyone caught you they’d confiscate the broom and dock enough points to earn side-eyes until Christmas.  So instead, you circled the pitch as fast as you could go, ignoring the stiff chill in your fingers as they gripped the broom handle. Patches of muddy ground spun by faster and faster until the whole world seemed brown.
“Y/N?”  Your concentration broken, you yelped and had to pull up hard to keep yourself from ramming into a tower.  On the ground, Yvette stood at the ready, broom in one hand and quaffle tucked neatly under the other arm.  She kicked off and met you in the air.  “Something you wanna talk about?”
“Not really.  You don’t get enough fly time during practice?”
She shrugged.  “I got into the habit, you know?  After, I’m awake, and I feel better.  You wanna run some passes with me?”
“Shoot, what time is it?”  You’d forgotten about Hogsmeade, and the Hog’s Head, and Harry Potter.  The sun was peeking over the trees, casting shadows with the tops of each tower on the pitch.
“Seven thirty, why?”
“I wanted to go to Hogsmeade today, but I can play for an hour.”
Yvette grinned and tossed you the quaffle.  For whatever reason, completing random passes and scoring against imaginary opponents did a much better job of settling your mind than speed-flying in circles, although it was clear from the onset Yvette’s talent far out paced your own.
“You’ve gotten good at this,” you remarked breathily, touching down.
She scoffed, “I was always good, I just got better.  So, no tutoring today?”
“Huh?”
“Your Slytherin, you aren’t sneaking off to tutor them?”
You bit your lip, the secret, evidently, out.  “Donna told you?”
“You didn’t think she would?  She tells everyone everything.  Besides, three mornings in a row you don’t come to breakfast?  We were bound to know something was up.  So, you aren’t meeting them today?  Or are you meeting them in Hogsmeade?”
You snorted at the thought of being seen with Draco Malfoy anywhere but a classroom.  “No, no I’m just meeting up with Ginny and Luna.  Besides,” you stretched your arms up, thinking how to phrase it, “I’m not tutoring the Slytherin anymore, they didn’t need much help.”  She shot you a sidelong glance but didn’t press the issue.  
“What about you?  No Hogsmeade today?”
“Can’t, I’m behind on Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts and I do not want Umbridge or McGonagall cross with me.”
“Fair enough.  I’ll get you something from Honey Dukes?”
“Yes, please.”
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Filch was in an uncharacteristically chipper mood as he snatched permission forms from nervous third years, grinning maniacally all the while.  You couldn’t decide if it was better or worse than the alternative, and an uncomfortable thought crossed your mind.  What did willingly keeping on such a dour sadist, one seemingly convinced torture was a reasonable punishment for misbehaving children, say about Dumbledore?  An uncomfortable thought, no doubt.
Across the courtyard, Ginny was holding hands with her newest boyfriend, who laughed abruptly at something she said.  A twinge of jealousy spun in your gut.  Ginny was, in a word, cool.  Funny, talented, witty, and quite genuine, it was difficult not to like her.  There was certainly a reason she was popular.
You looked around for Luna.  She, on the other hand, often gave the impression that she could be perfectly content to never speak to another person ever again.  You’d asked her once, unsure, if your presence was wanted at all.  She’d assured you that she quite enjoyed the company in her typical lilting, ethereal tone.  Finally, you spotted her at the edge of the courtyard on a stone bench, sitting with impeccable posture and clearly thinking deeply about one thing or another. She rose smoothly when you approached, smiling faintly as that faraway look refocused on you.
“Hey Luna,” you began, “Do you mind if I join you for the morning?”  The crowd began to filter out and down the road to Hogsmeade.  
She nodded gently, “I’m headed to Gladrags - all of my socks are infested with wrackspurt eggs.”  She lifted her pant leg to show a sockless foot sitting loosely in a shoe.  “They are an endangered species, after all.”
“Sure, sure.  My mum loves those, I can get her an early Christmas gift.”  Luna’s penchant for rare and less-than-discovered creatures, while unusual, never phased you too much.  After all, if you ever met an umgubular slashkilter you’d know how to keep it from tearing your throat out, thanks to her.
The morning sun was bright and warm and, thankfully, at your backs as you marched down the road with your classmates.  Chimney smoke peeked over the hills in a haze, and before long the village was in sight.  You happily followed Luna into Gladrags Wizardwear, where she found a number of socks you knew she’d never wear as pairs, and you picked out a pair that changed patterns with the weather for your mother.  Afterwards, you still had an hour to kill so you opted for Honeydukes.  Acid pops for Yvette, a cauldron cake for Herbert, and a box of liquorice wands for Donna, and Luna sat with you outside as you split a pumpkin pastie.
It was finally warm, and a little uncomfortably so, most of the students that passed you had their coats off and tied around their waists.  A group of third years were gushing loudly about the shrieking shack, each walking with a varied spring in their step.  Across the cobbled street, the door to the hairdresser’s, Clifford’s Scissors, opened and the bell chimed brightly.  Out came Draco Malfoy.
Oh, come on.  Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice you, but Luna did.  
She followed your sour gaze and said, “I hear his father is visiting Hogwarts tomorrow.  It is curious why he should appear now of all times.”
You swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin pastie.  “What do you mean?”
“He works very closely with the Ministry.  No one ever invites him, he just announces his arrival.”
“Ah,” you said.  That certainly made some things clearer.
Luna glanced up at the sun.  “It’s almost noon.  Let’s go.”  You picked up the box of candy for your friends and followed her down the road.  Very far down the road.  Almost to the end of the road.  You would’ve thought it was a mistake if there weren’t so many other students you recognized.
Inside the Hog’s Head was… gross.  You wrinkled your nose reflexively.  You sat next to Luna and glanced around.  Harry Potter stood next to one of Ginny’s older brothers (was it Roland?) at the bar with Hermione Granger.  His expression seemed more and more morose with ever new student that came through the door.  You waved to a few Hufflepuffs as they came in, but the group was mostly Gryffindor.  Which, you supposed, made some amount of sense.  Two of Ginny’s other older brothers, whose names you knew because of how often Filch said them like a curse, went around handing everyone a butterbeer.  You took a mug from one of them, you couldn’t tell which, in exchange for two Sickles.  The group sat quietly, gingerly sipping butterbeer from cloudy mugs, waiting.
Finally, the trio sat down, and Hermione began speaking.  She covered essentially what Ginny had said in the hallway a few days ago, but you watched Harry’s face.  She finished with, “I want to be properly trained in Defense because… because Lord Voldemort’s back.”
A palpable shiver coursed through the room, one girl actually screamed a little, which you found rather dramatic.  Zacharias immediately asked for proof.  You leaned forward.  Although you wouldn’t have put it the way he did, you were still torn over who to believe.  Harry scowled, and his answer was unsatisfying, but he still didn’t seem to be lying.  In fact, he seemed quite humble even as Zacharias continued to prod him.  You understood, though he began to grate on your nerves as well.  In the end, you put your name on the list like everyone else, excited and nervous to actually learn something useful.  Before passing it on you glanced through the names discreetly.  Ron.  That’s his name.
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The next day was a long slog in the library, oscillating between Transfiguration and Arithmancy homework, and wondering whether Draco Malfoy’s father had arrived at the school yet.  And what his purpose was.  Could it be solely to dissuade his only son from a career deemed beneath him?  It occurred to you that the Malfoys were a step above simply rich - it wasn’t as if they were working for the Galleons.  You looked out the great stained glass windows flanking the door periodically, earning you some quizzical looks from Yvette.  Evening rolled around, with not a single sign of silver hair, and you found yourself in the common room, enjoying the enchanted breeze and the warm glow of the fire, surrounded by candy wrappers, as you watched Donna crush Yvette in Wizard’s Chess.  The round painting door swung open to allow a racket of overlapping voices to spill in, followed by Ernie and Hannah, Zacharias hot on their heels.  They made a bee line for the notice board and pinned something on it.
“What’s this about?” you asked, walking over.
Zacharias turned sharply, agitated, “The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has disbanded all organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs.”  You shared a look with the three of them, all having been present in the Hog’s Head, and remembered your friends’ presence.  He continued, “That means-”
“Quidditch,” you interrupted.
“Yes,” he said slowly, “Quidditch.  Which we will have to beg her to let us play otherwise we’ll be expelled.” Your mouth ran dry.
Yvette piped up, “What?!  She can’t be serious.”
“Can’t she?” Hannah said sourly.
“I’ll go to her office first thing in the morning,” Zacharias assured Yvette, “hopefully we haven’t done anything to upset her.”
That night, sleep did not come easy.  Learning practical skills was one thing, but being expelled for it was entirely another.  Although, if Voldemort really had returned as Harry and his friends believed, Ernie had been right when he said that this was more important than anything else you could do this year.  
You jumped a little, startled, when Wilbur’s furry mass appeared next to your head.  He settled himself at your feet, stepping heavily on your stomach as he went.  
If Voldemort really had returned, expulsion was a minor issue.  You thought of Donna and Yvette, both muggle born, and your dad.  If Voldemort really had returned someone was going to have to fight.  And it couldn’t just be Harry Potter.
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As it turned out, Umbridge was only interested in keeping the Gryffindor team in suspense, as you heard from Yvette that the Hufflepuff Quidditch team had been reinstated rather breezily when Zacharias asked.  The fate of Harry Potter’s ‘study group’ remained uncertain, however, and the week trudged on with no news.  
Herbology passed without incident, though you kept stealing glances at Draco to see how he was doing.  By the end of class, his face was red and his eyebrows drawn, but the fanged geranium sat in a pot littered with small, shiny buttons with its toothy maw hanging open, clearly pleased with the trade.  Your own geranium was resting comfortably as you made up limericks on the spot, its own jaw growing looser with every word.  
By the end of the week though, you noticed a number of students you recognized from the Hog’s Head, whispering amongst themselves at dinner.  You hung back when your friends left for the common room, claiming to still be hungry.  Almost immediately, Harry Potter and Ginny’s brother appeared next to the Hufflepuff table.
Ron began, speaking softly, “We’ve found a spot.”
“Oh, good, I was beginning to wonder,” you trailed off.
Harry glanced around, “Tonight, eight o’clock, seventh floor.  Opposite the tapestry of Barn-”
“Barnabas the Barmy.  Got it.”
They nodded conspiratorially and were on their way.  Great.  Now you’d just have to hope no one asked you where you had been all night, and that no one would ever ask you that again.   It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your friends, but none of you had exactly made it clear to the others what was believed about the whole thing.  And then you’d gone to the meeting, and then you’d put your name down, like joining a secret society.  Should you have included them?  It was risky, to them and to the rest, the more people that knew of the whole thing.  You’d just have to come up with something decent later.
By the time the meeting was over, it was past curfew.  You’d dueled for over an hour with Ernie Macmillan, who seemed more concerned with performing intimidating wand patterns than actually disarming you, so when the DA split up into small groups to go back to their common rooms you ended up with him.  Both prefects for each house represented were in attendance, so they sent out a small group, then a prefect, then a small group, then the other prefect - so that if any were caught, it would look like they’d simply been sent back to their dormitories by the correct authority.
You walked along the dark corridors, enthusing quietly about the whole thing.  Ernie had sustained a small bruise next to his left eye from one of the Creevey’s antics, but he matched your enthusiasm.
Ernie knocked on the great round wooden door, and it swung open quietly, the warm breezes of the common room greeting you.  
Donna looked up from the roll of parchment she stared at hopelessly by the fireplace to watch Ernie bid you a pontifical goodnight.  She waved you over.  “Where have you been?” she asked once you’d sat down.
“Just some studying.”
She gave you a suspicious once-over.  “You’d tell me if you were dating Ernie Macmillan, right?”
You chortled abruptly, the notion absurd and hilarious.  “I would tell you, but I wouldn’t date Ernie Macmillan.  I, uh, ran into him and we got to talking about Transfiguration and we lost track of time.”
“Uh huh,” she said, slowly.  It was unclear whether she fully believed your explanation, but she dropped the subject regardless.  “Well I’ve been sat here since supper working on the Pepperup Potion essay.  So now that you’re back from studying you could help me study.”
“OK, but you have to proofread my essay for Umbridge.”
“Hand it over.”  
There was an unspoken agreement between Draco and yourself to avoid each other indefinitely, broken only after a Herbology lesson on puffapods, during which Draco had forced a spore cloud from the poor thing so large that he and his two friends fainted immediately.  Professor Sprout conscripted you to revive them; a ground mixture of ginger soaked in spirits and petals from the offending puffapod did the trick.  The large boy on the left, you learned his name was Crabbe, startled awake red faced and ready for action.  He looked around sheepishly and shoved your mortar bowl away from his face.  The other one, Goyle, opened his eyes but continued to snore.
You had to shoo away some Slytherin girl who had begun shaking his shoulders, then you held the bowl under Draco’s nose, arm stretched to leave as much room between you as possible.  He looked uncharacteristically peaceful, aside from the green-brown dust that discolored his pale forehead.  His eyes fluttered open, and for a second you thought you could back away before he was truly lucid, but then his cold grey eyes focused on you and narrowed. 
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, getting to his feet in a hurry.  Crabbe and Goyle immediately began dusting off his robes.
You opened your mouth to speak, but Crabbe beat you to it.  “You fainted.  The bloody plant-”
“Get off me.”  He shooed away his lackeys, the rest of the class still staring, the Slytherin girl looking like she’d launch herself at him at her first opportunity.  “I’m fine.”  He did not ask about his friends.
Professor Sprout tried to continue the lesson, but between the constant thrum of quiet gossip and careless handling of the puffapods, it became clear that three people fainting had caused too much excitement.  She sighed and said, “Class dismissed.  I want a foot of parchment on the proper handling of puffapods due next lesson.  Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Malfoy.  If I could have your attention for a moment.  Misters Crabbe and Goyle, you can go.”  She put her hands on her hips and waited for you to approach her.  “Now, am I to understand that you are no longer being tutored, Mr. Malfoy?”  He shook his head, and she turned to you.  “Would you care to tell me why that is?”
Draco interrupted, “I’ve decided I’d rather work with the Ministry.  So I won’t need a Herbology OWL.”
A look of disappointment passed over her face.  “Even so, I can’t imagine you’re happy with such unsatisfactory work.”  Draco’s expression soured.  “Professor Snape has told me what a skilled brewer you are, but let me tell you something.  The best potions can only be brewed, not bought - and that requires the brewer to appraise high quality ingredients.  Which, can you guess, requires a good understanding of what we do in this class.”  Draco deflated a bit, and focused his gaze on his shoes.  “Y/N, that was quick thinking with the ginger - ten points to Hufflepuff.  Why did you have it on hand?”
“Oh, I, uh, I have Potions right after this.”
She gestured to you as if to say there, see what I’m saying?  Her posture softened; her fists uncurled and came to rest at her sides.  “I imagine you are still willing to tutor Mr. Malfoy?”  His gaze snapped to you, his expression unreadable.  
You only hesitated a moment, after all he wasn’t particularly pleasant, but you had improved significantly in Transfiguration all thanks to his brief instruction.  You nodded your head definitively.
Professor Sprout smiled, her cheeks turning rosy again.  “I can’t force you, Mr. Malfoy, but you should consider it.  Now, off you pop!”  She wrote you both notes in case you were late, which you knew you would be, and herded you out of the greenhouse into the cold October sun.
Draco resumed ignoring you, until you stepped into the castle and he said, still not looking at you, “Saturday?”
“Quidditch pitch?”
He nodded.  “I’ll bring the hedgehog.”
“I’ll bring some books,” you finished, and you parted ways in front of the massive fireplace.
Professor Snape was not happy when you arrived at Potions.  “Miss Y/L/N, late again?”
You held out the note.  “I am sorry, Professor.  I do have a note this time.”  He took it unceremoniously, his hooded eyes inspecting Professor Sprout’s signature.  He glanced at you appraisingly, then gestured for you to sit down so he could continue his lesson on Beautification Potion.
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Once again, you trudged down the path to the Quidditch pitch far too early on a Saturday.  Draco had already set up the Slytherin themed quilt and his portable fireplace, he was hastily drying some patches of melted frost around the edges of the space.  His back was to you, and hadn’t seemed to notice your arrival, so you set the stack of books you carried down gently and slid the box presumably containing McGonagall’s hedgehog towards you.  He remembered you, apparently, and didn’t protest when you scooped him up and sat him in your lap to wait for Draco to notice you.
“Sicco,” he muttered under his breath.  He checked the watch on his wrist and turned around.  You grinned, and he yelped when he saw you; his eyes narrowed.  “How long have you been sitting there?”
You scratched the hedgehog’s back lightly.  “Only a bit.  We had to get reacquainted.”
His eyebrows knit together.  “I saw you three days ago.”
“I was talking about the hedgehog.”
“Oh, well.  That does make more sense.”  He sat down across from you, apparently satisfied with his handiwork.  “I, uh, just wanted you to know that I-”
“You don’t have to apologize, and we don’t have to talk about it.”
“I was going to tell you not to apologize.”
“Me?  Apologize for what?”
“For humiliating me in front of an entire classroom, obviously!”
Your face turned hot.  “You fainted!  What was I supposed to do?”
He crossed his arms, his face equally inflamed.  “Well you didn’t have to come rushing into save me like I was some helpless child.”
“It’s not my fault you ignore Professor Sprout’s instructions.  Would you have preferred to be carried off to the hospital wing?  Your friends fainted too, you know, you could try caring about someone other than yourself.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
You gaped at him.  “Everything!  You and your friends fainted.  During class.  And you’re so concerned with appearances you can’t even acknowledge that someone might do something nice for you just for the sake of it.”  You stopped, surprised.  “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?  You think I’m going to want something from you.  Right?”  He shrugged.  “Bloody hell.”  You set the hedgehog down and stood up to pace.
Draco rolled his eyes.  “Look, I’m… I’m sorry.  Ok?  I keep forgetting I can’t treat you like them.”
You stopped to glare at him, refused to be appeased by what very well may have been the first time he’d apologized for anything in his life.  “Like who?”
“Crabbe and Goyle.”
“Why would you treat your friends like this anyway?”
“Well, they’re not really friends.  Our families go way back, so they’re more like colleagues.”
“That’s ridiculous.”  He shrugged.  You sat back down and pulled the hedgehog back into your lap.  “So, the Ministry, huh?  What would you be doing for them?”  He looked at you suspiciously.  “Fine, don’t tell me.  I just hope it was your idea, and not your dad’s.  We’ve got a lot of work to do.”  You dropped the stack of books you brought into his lap and pointed at the one on top.
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lovl3igh · 6 months
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we all agreed that if wood was still in hogwarts in the goblet of fire he woud start RIOT for cancelling quidditch, but can you imagine if he met umbridge??
"what do you mean I have to ASK for creating my team again... you think it's a game without gryffindor?" "no, harry and george didn't attack malfoy... that little ferret attacked himself, I swear it" "what do you mean potter can't play? in my opinion he's perfectly fine, give him back his broom!" "honestly I don't care what rules anybody broke... just leave quidditch out of it" "umbridge-itis is totally real, I FAINTED IN YOUR CLASS, I just feel much better on the pitch" "what the hell dumbledore's army had to do with my team, like maybe we all in DA but..." "I'm gonna be honest, if we could have more trainings and matches then we wouldn't have time for creating illegal groups so it's kinda your fault"
if umbridge hated harry and weasley twins, she would absolutely despise oliver you can't cancel quidditch wood and I would be there for it
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sleepy-sham · 2 months
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HP meme drop !!! (also for the record it's screw JKR 4 lyfe) ((Big Post #2))
more harry potter memes
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readwithlivvy · 7 months
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people don't talk enough about how unhinged book hermione was!!
like she literally kidnapped a grown woman and kept her in a jar😭😭 AND physically deformed someone's face because they snitched on dumbledore's army!
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auberginequirky · 7 months
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Modern day au Ginny Weasley's desktop (this old, I was bored, please ignore the ripped corner)
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purplemushroooms · 2 years
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Featuring: My favourite found families
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aesthetic--mood · 6 months
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Albus Dumbledore Aesthetic
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Conversation
Ginny: [to Harry] Luna isn't going to be able to make it to the D.A. meeting today; she tripped on some salsa while salsa dancing.
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la-zck · 2 years
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I believe this Dumbledore would actually ask Harry if he put his name in the Goblet of Fire very calmly
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And lovingly
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mastermindmiko · 1 year
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Yellow
Pairing: Harry Potter + fem!reader
Word count: 3508
Summary: You are Harry’s yellow, someone that makes him happy, full of hope, and never fails to make him smile, you’re someone who Harry can’t live without, even if he hasn’t told you that yet.
Trigger warnings: hunger, Harry’s dancing, Harry’s fourth year awkwardness with girls, crying, kissing, Harry gaslighting himself, Harry being protective, mentions of death. 
my masterlist
Requests are open
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He had overheard at dinner about the description and, or feeling of the word yellow from a random muggle born seated at the Gryffindor table. 
As he heard the clarification of the unfamiliar use of the word, his eyes unconsciously trailed to the face that was gleaming with laughter at the Hufflepuff table. He didn’t feel the smile that was itching its way onto his face; it was, however, there and apparent.
He ignored the questioning that he got from his bushy-haired and red haired friends asking for the cause of his sudden rush of joy and his turned up lip corners. They were both too absorbed in the new charms lesson and the turkey leg to notice. If they had listened to the overly loud conversation that their fellow Gryffindors were having and followed his line of sight they wouldn’t have needed to inquire of anything; and he wouldn’t have been brought out from his almost starting day-dream. 
It seemed that they had done precisely that when they donned identical smirks and Ron gave him a teasing nudge. “You should tell her, you know.” Hermione said after a few seconds. 
He gave her a raised eyebrow in question and she continued with her eyes rolled “About your feelings, Harry.” She had assumed that he was being intentionally oblivious, but that was just how he usually was when it came to girls and feelings. He flushed, turning his head and gaze from them and to his untouched plate. He was too busy admiring to eat and he realised -from the growl his stomach gave- that he was in fact hungry. So he put a large spoon of food in his mouth; to satisfy his hunger and to also avoid the questioning and lectures he was about to receive from his friends. 
“Someone that makes you happy, full of hope and never fails to make you smile.” That’s what Harry heard from the conversation but what he concluded was that your ‘yellow’ is just simply “Someone you can’t live without.”
***
The first time Harry met her was when Professor McGonnagal was announcing the Yule Ball. Everyone already started dancing with someone including Ron who was trying not to step on Hermione’s foot. He was tapping his foot on the floor anxiously and looking around nervously. A hand was held out to him and he saw a pretty girl holding her hand out for him, she mentioned for him to dance with her and he obliged. 
He was dancing rather awkwardly and kept stepping on her feet muttering multiple sorrys, she kept saying it was fine every time he apologised it seemed that she was taking this situation much more humorously than he was. He couldn’t quite get over the fact that the most beautiful person he’s ever seen was getting trampled by him and his poor attempt at dancing. 
When he tried to twirl her he ended up twisting her feet together causing her to almost fall but he caught her by her wrist. His face turned an even brighter red as he said “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to do this, you should go find another person to dance with-” He cut himself off when he heard her burst out with laughter, and even though he was confused a light bubble formed in his stomach. 
“I’m sorry.” She said after she finished laughing, holding her stomach. “It’s just- you’re taking this wayyy too seriously.” She let out a sigh at the end of her sentence. He had just noticed that the hand that wasn’t gripping her stomach was still in his hand. 
He quickly let go of her wrist, and she probably noticed that so her face was decorated with a sweet, soft smile. She held her hand out and said “Y/n Y/L/N” He was reluctant to shake her hand for one reason, out of how sweaty he thinks his hands are from his nervousness. 
He took her hand hesitantly and cautiously as he added “Harry Potter.” She shook his hand with one firm shake and then put both her hands on her hips saying, “well Harry, I think we should try this again.” He nodded looking at everyone around him trying to adjust his dancing position and posture. 
They danced for a while and he only stepped on her feet a couple more times, he said with the same self diminishing tone “You really should find another person to dance with. I’m horrible at this.” He tried to step away but she kept her grip on his shoulder firm and she said “You’re not horrible, you’re doing much better than a lot of other people here, look.” 
He looked at where she tilted her head and there were in fact several other people tripping on their feet, some were even on the floor. He let out a chuckle at the disastrous scene and how McGonnagal was shaking her head at her house. 
A thought burst out in his head as he looked at the girl, eyebrows furrowed and said “How come I’ve never seen you in Gryffindor tower?” She looked at the Weasley twins and she laughed slightly. He was confused and as soon as he looked at them Fred sent him a wink, and moved his eyes between him and her. Harry’s cheeks gained a red tint for what seemed like the millionth time that day.
“Maybe because I’m not supposed to be at Gryffindor tower.” She said in a matter of factly and teasing tone. His eyebrows regained their furrow and she explained “I’m a Hufflepuff.” Before Harry could ask how she got here she tilted her head to Fred and George and he needed no further explanation. 
When the dancing lesson was finished and lunch was about to start Harry decided to just walk quietly beside her while she walked to lunch. He hoped she didn’t mind his presence since he for some reason wasn’t ready to leave her’s. He didn’t know why he felt that way, but judging by how she wasn’t pushing him away, he assumed she didn’t mind. He tried to ascertain the cause of his unexpected dependency on this girl. It has taken him multiple years to be assured by the words his friends say, and for him to welcome and look forward to their presence. He has been struck by shock, from how his body was naturally gravitating towards her’s; and he put a stop to the abnormal feeling. He didn’t want to seem weird. 
When they reached the Great Hall they stopped right in front of the door, and he felt a sense of dread. He looked at her when she clapped her hand and spun on her heels to face him, “Well Harry, I best be off. See you around.” 
When she started to walk to the Hufflepuff table, he called out “Wait!” She turned around with a sweet smile on her face that made his heart want to jump; and said “Yes?” 
Nervously, He searched for a reason to make her spend more time with him. He hadn’t thought his plan through at all and barely made it through after calling out ‘wait!’. He looked around in a way he thought was discreet, but she was internally laughing at his attempt to look casual -he didn’t know that thankfully- His eyes trailed to her outfit and he saw that she was wearing Gryffindor robes. 
“Well, you’re wearing Gryffindor robes; Why stop at just dance practice? Why don’t you have lunch at the Gryffindor table too?” He said trying to look smart and casual. Her smile increased and changed into a teasing one, and she tilted her head slightly, “Do you want to spend time with me Harry?” 
His face regained its flush and he avoided her gaze. She started walking inside the Great Hall and he kept thinking that he messed up whatever was happening, and then she stopped, “Aren’t you coming?” He looked up at her surprised and asked “Where?” 
She rolled her eyes but the smile never left her lips “To the Gryffindor table, of course. Merlin Harry! No wonder you weren’t sorted in Ravenclaw.” His cheeks couldn’t get a break from how red they were, he walked beside her and then she nudged his shoulder slightly and said “I think it’s cute.” If Harry wasn’t too occupied with this new type of feeling he would’ve noticed the slight blush on her face. 
***
The feeling was new to him at the time, he didn’t feel it with Cho and neither with Hermione. He knew he liked Cho but saw Hermione as a sister; so what else is there to feel? He realised that he was exceedingly stupid with his feelings last year and before. He looked at her face again and thought of the last DA meeting today before Christmas. 
When the DA started she ran in and gave him a big hug and reciprocated it with much more force than she did. They hadn’t seen each other for a week except for a few moments because she’s been studying with Hermione, and he missed her much more than he liked to admit. They were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.
Fred and George smirked at them teasingly, bringing a blush to his cheeks and then Fred said “We can leave the room if you want.” She unwrapped her arms from around his neck and went to Neville, giving him a similar greeting and He felt a weird feeling bubble in his stomach; so he started the DA lesson. 
When the lesson finished she came up to him and said “I’ll wait for you outside Harry.” He nodded with a small smile and then went to Cho who was waiting by the mirror. It all went in Harry’s head like this,
Crying,
Talking,
More talking, 
Mistletoe, 
Lips, 
Kiss;
and door opening. 
She stood there with the usual smile that always undertakes her face, non-existent and he couldn’t fathom the unfamiliar look. “Um sorry, I’ll leave you two alone.” She said in a type of way Harry’s never seen or heard from her before, and she left quickly. 
He looked at Cho and he was put back into the moment that he was previously in. He didn’t like the kiss. “Cho. Listen, I’m sorry but-” 
“I’m in love with her.” She said shortly and looked away with a speck of hurt in her eyes. “What?” he asked confused, cheeks slightly red. “You’re in love with her. I thought so and everyone knows so; but I thought I had a chance.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said with a now obvious blush on his face. She started walking out the door and placed her hand on the door knob, saying in a small voice that He could barely hear “Reevaluate your feelings, Harry. I think you’ll find a new conclusion.” 
He was on his way to the Gryffindor tower in confusion, trying to think over what Cho said. Sure she was pretty, smart and funny. She was great, she was his best friend; he wasn’t in love with her.
Then again he couldn’t control how his heart flutters when he sees her. It was all platonic, he told himself; but there was still a part of him that was screaming at him” YOU’RE IN LOVE YOU IDIOT, WHO ELSE MAKES YOU FEEL THE WAY SHE DOES. WHO ELSE MADE YOU FEEL LIKE THE WORLD WAS OKAY AND EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE FINE WHEN CEDRIC WAS JUST KILLED. SHE MAKES YOU SMILE YOU GIT, HOW MANY OTHER PEOPLE HAVE YOU MET CAN JUST MAKE YOU SMILE WITH THEIR PRESENCE.”
His loud vexatious thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sniffling. He followed the sound of muffled cries, and he saw a familiar Hufflepuff robe wrapped around a body he’s been tied to before. Her knees were to her shoulders and her head in between her legs as she cried heavily.
 At the sound of his footsteps, she lifted her head up from her knees looking at him and quickly wiping her tears away “Harry. What are you doing here?” She choked out.
“Are you okay?” He asked cautiously as he stepped near her slowly; it was the first time he’s seen her cry even though she’s seen him cry multiple times before, somehow this felt worse. She let out a dry but in some way soft laugh as she said “Merlin Harry! You really aren’t a Ravenclaw.” She still found his stupidity cute and she cursed herself for it; he doesn’t love her. For Merlin's sake he just kissed another girl. 
He chuckled softly at the familiar words, and sat beside her on the window bench. He placed his hand in her’s and pulled her to his side, and hugged her tightly. She couldn’t help but cry even more, she was crying in the arms of the guy that made her cry because she loved him and he only saw her as a friend. 
They stayed wrapped in each other's arms that night, and his heart broke multiple times every time she began crying. He tried to ask her multiple times what was making her this sad but she always said that it wasn’t important, then he’d say it’s important to me; but she wouldn’t answer and he’d try again. They stayed there until the sun lit up the sky and they were woken up by a Slytherin that was going to the library before class. 
***
It was past midnight when Harry was greeted by her worried face asking “What’s wrong? What happened?” His heart plummeted and flew when he saw her. He saw her, he’s happy; she’s worried, he’s worried. Her eyes skimmed Dumbledore’s office filled with the Weasleys, Dumbledore, Professor McGonnagal and several talking portraits that were chattering about what occurred; and they found his own as they always did -or at least he hoped so- 
She went up to him still wearing her PJs and hugged him tightly, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. He breathed slowly and tried to calm himself down; and surely after several seconds the worry, anger and hurting feeling in his head were slowly starting to wash away. “What are you doing here?” He asked, pulling away from her embrace and cupping her face. If he wasn’t in the state that he was currently in then his reaction to cupping her face would be more different. 
“The portraits were told by Ron to wake me up and go to Dumbledore’s office. So I’m here; What happened?” She replied and asked, holding his hand that was resting on his face. 
“All will be told when you reach Grimmauld Place 12.” Dumbledore said and started saying orders to everyone, he also got out a portkey and all the Weasleys used it to head to Grimmauld Place 12. “Come on Harry.” Dumbledore urged him to use the portkey that he previously hadn’t used with the rest because of his hold on her hand. 
Harry tightened his grip on her hand, and then she looked between Harry and Dumbledore saying, “Is there any way for me to go there, Professor?” Dumbledore nodded and they both used the portkey together. Harry couldn’t care at the moment that he looked like a child, holding her hand and not letting it go; but how could he let go of her when she solaced him. He also thought of how brave she was going to a place she doesn’t know of just because he needed her there with him. His heart lifts. 
It was a strange thing for him that only a few nights ago she was the one in his arms seeking comfort and now he’s holding onto her as his only source of sanity from Voldemort’s plague in his mind. 
All throughout Christmas he kept falling for this girl more and more. He loved her. He loved her laugh, her nose, her smile, her personality and he loved her lips; and he wanted to kiss them badly. All throughout Christmas he was reminded of her, and he spent almost every moment with her. It was his favourite Christmas despite its beginning.
***
Fred and George had left school. He was standing with everyone around him in an abandoned classroom, He had to save Sirius. “Alright everyone, there's no time to lose, let's go.” She said, and his eyebrows furrowed. 
“You’re not going.” He said to her with a firm voice, she stopped walking towards the door and let out a humourless laugh as she said “I’m going.” Everyone other than the two of them left the room trying to find the Thestrals not wanting to get involved with the situation. 
“No you’re not.” 
“Says who.” She said with her arms crossed. 
“Says me, and you’re not going. You could get hurt.” He said, and crossed his arms mirroring her actions. She took a step towards him and stood on her tiptoes to increase her height trying to look more intimidating. “So could you.” 
“Yeah but I don’t want to lose you.” He said, voice raising slightly. “Same here.” She said not backing down. He walked in front of her and said “You can’t come because I can’t put you in a situation where you could die.” 
“First of all, You wouldn’t be putting me anywhere. It's my decision and you don't want me to get hurt but you’re completely fine with you dying.” She looked furious, every time she was angry there was still a light undertone of humour in her; but this time he couldn’t find it. 
“You are not going! You can’t change my opinion.” 
“Well it’s a good thing I don’t need your opinion.” She said stepping really close to him, and she continued; voice louder than his. “Everyone else is going, why are you letting them go?!” 
“Because I’m not in love with everyone else. I’m in love with you.” He said angrily, not thinking this through. He’s always had horrible timing but now his timing was beyond the roof and quite impeccable, so he kissed her. Furiously, passionately and hungirly. The kiss didn’t get as heated as it could have when she pulled away from his forehead resting on his. “I need you to stay here for me, because I know I can’t think straight without knowing you’re okay. I need you to stay here and be safe, because when I come back I want to kiss you for the longest time.” 
She let out a sigh and said “Fine but just because you told me you love me.” He couldn’t resist the urge to place another kiss on her lips and then go out of the class running to go to the Ministry of Magic. 
*** 
When he came back, he was numb; completely numb. Sirius died, and he now had no family. He was led to the Black Lake by her, because he wanted to be alone but alone with her. 
He laid on the grass with his body intertwined with her. His arms were loosely wrapped around her middle and his head on his chest, and her chin was on top of his head while still wounding her fingers through his unkempt but soft hair. He waited for the -usual- effects of her even breathing and steady heartbeat to kick in; for his body to match the habits of her’s. 
No tears have been shed by him since his screams at the ministry. He didn’t want to talk about what happened and she knew that; he would tell her at some point and she knew that as well. At the moment the only thing he desired was to lay in her arms forever. “Is it true?” She asked while the flowers nodded around them from the light breeze. “What you said? Before you left.” 
She was nervous, he noticed from the way her hands started to fidget with his hair instead of playing with it. He lifted his head up to look into her beautiful eyes and he let out a happy sigh with a large smile. “You have no idea how much I adore you.” Her cheeks turned red and she placed her lips on his. It was slow and soft, and full of love. He could feel his heart mending.
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scopriusmalfoy · 2 years
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double trouble by the twins!
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OoTP, Chapter 5 - Something Rotten
Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader
Warnings: hints of child abuse, death mentions
Masterlist
Word Count: ~5,800
Note: Cedric's death should have affected more people imo. I also had a couple blogs in my taglist that no longer route to anything, so if you've recently changed your blog name and still would like to be tagged let me know!
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Halloween went by with the usual fanfare: Jack-O-Lanterns lined the walls of the Great Hall and bobbed lazily under the levitation spell, the ghosts even seemed more chipper and some made a habit of spooking unsuspecting first years. Peeves was especially insufferable this time of year, though you somehow managed to scrape by with only one encounter, during which he'd juggled far too many burning Jack-O-Lanterns above your head as you sprinted for the safety of the common room.
October bled into November, which lasted a single day before it was renamed 'Quidditch Season.' The first game was, as usual, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. You didn't go, but you heard from Herbert that Gryffindor won, and Slytherin (meaning Malfoy) were still dirty players and sore losers. That next week especially you avoided contact with the whole Slytherin house. They were in poor spirits and had a tendency to lash out at the nearest person with a cursable face, though by Saturday your lessons with Draco went smoothly enough.
Monday morning found the Great Hall abuzz with excitement. You sat down to breakfast across from Donna, who turned immediately to Hannah Abbott, and said, "What's everybody talking about?"
Hannah grinned. "Hagrid's back! People are taking bets on how soon Grubbly-Plank goes back into retirement.
The doors to the courtyard flew open with a bang to reveal a snow coated Hagrid. His reception was mixed. Several Gryffindor students leapt from their seats to greet him, but others seemed to turn one or several shades of green. You yourself smiled happily, ready for more interesting Care of Magical Creatures lessons. Then you remembered Umbridge, and your smile faded into a grimace.
Yvette met your eye from across the table. Apparently the same thought had crossed her mind.
"I wonder," you began slowly.
She finished, "What he has planned? Me too.
Donna gulped down some pumpkin juice and got up. "Let's go ask him." You followed Yvette and Donna, cutting him off before he could reach the teacher's table.
His eyes lit up from under bushy eyebrows when he saw the three of you, his cheeks already ruddy from the heat of the Great Hall's gargantuan fireplaces. "Well, if t'isn't me favorite fourth years!" He put his giant hands on his hips. "Where's Herb?"
Donna answered, "Hospital wing. Said Peeves dropped something on his head." You shared a look with Yvette, knowing for a fact he was just trying to get out of a History of Magic exam and had dropped a pumpkin on his own head with the levitation charm.
Hagrid chortled. "Madame Pomfrey will have him righ' as rain for the afternoon then. No doubt about that. How've you all been holding up?"
"Good," Yvette said, "but we're happy to have you back, Professor." Hagrid beamed.
You interjected, "We were also wondering when you'd be back to teaching, and what you have planned. Whether it's something..."
"Dangerous," Donna finished.
Hagrid laughed and patted your shoulder, you swayed under the weight.  “Don’t you worry, I've got somethin great lined up for this afternoon, you'll love it.  In fact, you should come down a little early, if you’ve got the time.  I’ve got a surprise.”  He said nothing else, and moved past you to take his place at the teacher’s table. 
That had not, at all, answered your question and had only led to more.  Which was unsurprising.  The three of you shrugged at each other and went back to the Hufflepuff table to eat and cram from A History of Magic before slumping off to Binn’s classroom.
When you got there, Herbert was already sitting at his desk, a bump the size of a snitch on his forehead, grumpily flipping through his textbook.
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After slogging through a dozen and a half questions about goblins and goblin rebellions, you pulled Herbert along to the Great Hall, filling him in.  He was, unsurprisingly, less than thrilled at the news that your favorite professor (perhaps a close second to Professor Sprout) had returned and would be resuming his curriculum immediately.
He groaned, stuffing sausage rolls into a pocket in his robes.  “We have to go now?”
“Yes, Herbert,” Donna implored, doing the same, “we can eat later - let’s go!”  She grabbed him by the wrist and began pulling.
“Alright, alright.”  He pulled himself from her grasp and walked along with the group willingly.  “I just hope this surprise of his doesn’t singe my school robes again.”
You laughed, “Oh, come on.  With any luck it’s either something cute or something deadly.”
The four of you hurried down the snowy path, clinging to each other in random intervals to keep from sliding and giggling wildly all the way, to Hagrid’s hut.  It was good to see smoke rising from the chimney again.  The door was open, Fang lay asleep on the threshold, so still if you didn’t know better you’d guess he was dead.  He snored loudly as you stepped over him first.
“Hagrid?” you called quietly.  He looked up from his woodstove, a tea kettle sat over the fire.  In this lighting, you noticed he looked a little worse for wear.  His face was puffy in places, and discolored, but when he saw the four of you he beamed.  Same old Hagrid.
“Come in, come in.  Oh don’t mind the old lug, he’s been asleep for hours.”  He gestured at the chairs crowding a tiny dining table.  “Want a cuppa?”
“Where have you been?” Yvette asked before settling herself into a chair and crossing her arms.  “We’ve missed your lessons.”  Herbert made a noise; Donna stamped his foot under the table.
Hagrid chuckled and set tea cups down in front of each of you.  In his giant hands they looked minuscule.  “I’ll have ye know it’s none of your business, but I was in France.  Visiting a friend.”  You shared a look with Yvette.  “And you’ll all like what I have planned for today.  It’s perfect timing.”  He didn’t elaborate, but the tea kettle began to whistle.  “Just a mo’.”
Herbert cleared his throat.  “So, Hagrid.  About that surprise?”
“Right, right, o’ course.”  He turned back around and put the kettle back on the stove, which started whistling again immediately.  He picked it back up and poured the steaming water into the cups before opening various cabinets.  “Now, where did I… ha!  The ministry had these enchanted for the tournament last year, and Dumbledore convinced them to leave em with me.”  He sat down between Yvette and Donna, a velvet pouch in his hand.  It was squirming.  “You’ll like this especially, Y/N.”
You gasped.  From the bag emerged four tiny but incredibly lifelike dragons.  Dragons.  The green one took to the air at once, flitting around the hut above your heads, while the one you recognized as the Hungarian Horntail let out a wildly adorable roar and a tiny jet of flame.
“I figured these’d be close enough to the real thing, for Advanced Care of Magical Creatures.”  He looked at you pointedly.  
The Welsh Green had settled in a hanging pot of basil, observing from above, while the Swedish Short-Snout lumbered towards your hand and tried to take a chunk out of your thumb.  It pinched a little, but the tiny dragon did not let go.  You laughed weakly, in shock, as you held the thing in your hand.  “Count me in,” you said.  
The Chinese Fireball had snuck up on the Horntail and tackled it, but was no match for the other dragon’s strength and tenacity.  Hagrid pulled them apart before permanent damage could be done.
Herbert whistled.  “This is cool, Hagrid.”
“Well don’ sound so surprised!”
He stuttered, “It’s just that, well you know, I just hoped, oh nevermind it.”
Hagrid herded the three dragons on the table back into the bag, you had to coax the Short-Snout to release your hand, and then stood up to be eye level with the Welsh Green.  He held the bag open, close to it, and pointed.  The tiny dragon leapt up into the air, tucked its wings, and dove into the bag.
“There,” he said, smiling contentedly, “I thought you bunch would get a kick out of that.”
Yvette, who had also not stopped smiling, said, “Thanks, Hagrid.  It is good to have you back.”
“Yeah, but we’d better go,” Donna said, peering out the window.  “There’s already a crowd by the forest.”
Hagrid picked Fang up and put him by the fire, the dog did not wake up but began to snore louder, and led the four of you out of his hut and out into the cold, carrying a bucket full of something absolutely putrid.  He waited until all the other students had arrived, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw shared this class and chatted among themselves to speculate what was to come, and then asked the class to follow him.  He did not take a turn into the forest as you expected, but continued along its edge for several minutes, and only stopped at the shore of the Black Lake.
You exchanged confused looks with several classmates.  Hagrid looked entirely too pleased with himself.
“Now, how many of you’ve heard of the giant squid?” he began.  Most students raised their hands.  “And how many of you think it’s a prank pulled by older students?”  You raised your hand sheepishly, along with a handful of others.  “Not surprising, he’s a reclusive creature, but this time o’ year, if you offer him something yummy he usually shows himself.”  Your jaw hung open.  Hagrid waved again, and led the class to the pier.  He had everyone stand in a line at the edge, held the bucket above his head, and shouted out across the waves, “C’mere Squish!  I’ve something for ya!”
“He named the squid Squish?” Donna muttered.
“Are you surprised?” you muttered back.
For several minutes, nothing happened.  Hagrid pulled an oily fish out of the bucked and dipped it in the black water.  Still nothing.  The students around you began to murmer again.  Then, there was a ripple.
You elbowed Donna.  “Look,” you said, pointing out at the line being drawn in the waves.  Something big was moving under the water.  “Uh, Professor?” you called.
He waved you off.  “Here he comes!  Get ready!”  The line drew closer and closer until it was almost to the pier, and then.  It was gone.  Hagrid deflated just a bit and reached again for the bucket.  Before he could touch it though, two huge, jet black tentacles erupted from the surface, spraying everyone with frigid water, and grabbed the whole bucket and disappeared back under the water.
Donna looked at you, mouth agape, then turned to Herbert.  “Do you still have those sausage rolls?”
“Yeah, but I was gonna-”
“Can I have one?”
“But-”
“Oh, come on.  I’ll proofread your Divination assignment?”
Herbert sighed heavily, and reached into his pocket.  Donna beamed.  You, Yvette, and Herbert followed her as she elbowed her way to the end of the pier next to Hagrid.  She held the roll above her head and called, “Uh, Squish?  I’ve got somethin else for ya!”  The Ravenclaw next to you looked at Donna in horror.  Hagrid only egged her on.
You watched, enthralled, as a gigantic, black shape glided out from under the pier.  The Black Lake, murky as it was, left much to the imagination, but if you had to guess you’d say that Squish was at least ten meters long.  Donna held the sausage roll out like you would feed a horse a carrot - on the palm of her hand, fingers well out of the way.  A smaller tentacle reached out slowly, much gentler this time, and plucked the roll out of her palm.
The class was speechless.  If there hadn’t been the constant thrum of water against shore, you could’ve heard a pin drop.
Hagrid clapped again, grinning ear to ear, and said, “He’ll be happy now, he’s had dinner and desert.”  He clapped Donna on the shoulder.  “Right, let’s move back onto shore and we can finish up the lesson.”  
The class gathered around Hagrid on the stony shore in stunned silence.  Clearly, even if they believed the rumor, no one expected the creature to be so big, or get so close.  A majestic creature, sure, but what was it doing in a freshwater lake?
Hagrid seemed ready to answer your question, as he began, “Who can tell me the typical stomping grounds of a giant squid?”
A Ravenclaw, a muggleborn you’d met through the DA, raised his hand.  “They’re deep sea dwellers.  So what’s this-”
“One doing here?  An excellent question Mr. Goldstein.  A normal giant squid is only expected to live five years or so, but this one’s been living in our very own lake for at least a century.  So, what’s special about this one?  Ordinary creatures, when they interact with existing magical traces in unexpected ways, can turn magical.”
A thought occurred to you; you raised your hand.  “Like the magical barrier surrounding Hogwarts?”
“Exactly!  That is my own theory, Dumbledore agrees it’s likely.  And ever since then, his lifespan has increased, and he’s far more intelligent than a typical giant squid.”
The Ravenclaw spoke up again, “But what about the other things in the lake?  Don’t they get territorial?”
“Another excellent question - five points.  Now the funny thing about that, we learned from the merfolk last year.  Apparently, they’re able to share because they’ve established hunting grounds, and Squish hunts a number of nasties the merfolk don’t like, like Grindylows, which he’s only able to do because he’s been changed by magic somehow.”
The class continued to pepper Hagrid with questions, apparently the idea of a magically mutated animal fascinated most of the Ravenclaw students, right up to the chime of the bell echoing from far away.  The castle was a long walk away and by the time you got back inside, in front of a fireplace, you excused yourself to skip a trip to the library and went to go lie down for the hour before dinner.  About five minutes in, Wilbur found you and began kneading into your chest.
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The week trudged on, Donna proofread an assignment for Herbert as promised - an essay comparing Herbert’s astrological sign to his older brothers’ - and on Saturday morning, instead of going straight to the Quidditch pitch, you actually joined your friends for breakfast.  It was the last Quidditch match before the holiday break - Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw.  Yvette had been a vibrant cluster of nerves and excitement all week and by the time she sat down in the Great Hall she was practically bouncing off the walls.  Luna Lovegood was wearing a cloak that looked like raven’s wings, along with a large hat with a protruding beak.  When you asked her about it, she opened the beak, which promply played the Hogwarts’ anthem in a series of caws.
The match did not go well.  Wanda Clemm had apparently just been dumped by her girlfriend, and was even more inconsolable after what she called the worst performance of her life.
Your tutoring sessions with Draco Malfoy continued in relative civility into December - Professor Sprout had the class preparing the fire-breathing snap dragons for hibernation over Christmas break - and you were loathe to admit it but you’d grown rather comfortable with the arrangement.  The Dumbledore’s Army meetings continued as well, and before break, you planned to ask Harry Potter about your friends possibly joining.  The more you learned from him, the more you believed the urgency of the threat.  
The last week of term, you sat at the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall, surrounded by sparkling evergreen trees topped with stars that twinkled and sent out tiny flying reindeer at odd intervals.  Donna and Herbert were discussing their holiday plans next to you; Yvette had been in a perpetually sour mood since losing to Ravenclaw and was angrily flipping pages through Intermediate Transfiguration pretending to study.
A gentle thrum signaled the arrival of at least a hundred owls prepared to drop off mail.  The first few dropped in to circle the tables, and as more and more joined them you spotted your mother’s owl - Bertha.  She settled on the table and held out her leg casually while she began preening.
Dear Y/N, I hope your year is going well, we all of course miss you at home and are excited to see you for Christmas!  The shop is doing well, we may have to expand next year but that’s so long as the prices at Apothecary in Diagon Alley stay so inflated.  It’s been a boon to have so much of their business transfer here.  Your Screechsnap misses you, so does Buttercup, and so do we!  We’ll pick you up at Kings Cross at noon? Love you, Mum & Julien
You smiled to yourself; you missed the family’s King Charles Spaniel called Buttercup too, and you could already smell your step-father’s homemade cauldron cakes.
Ezra Roberts sat down next to your group.  “Hey, Yvette.”
She looked up, surprised.  “Hey.”
“I’m writing a Christmas card for Mr. Diggory; I wondered if you wanted to write one too.  Any of you.  I’m asking most of the house.  Nothing too fancy, just… you know.”  You nodded without thinking.  Before you could take it back, Ezra clapped you and Yvette on the shoulders and grinned.  “Great - I’ll need them before term ends.  I really think he’ll like hearing from people.  See ya later!”
What had you just agreed to, exactly?  Yvette saw the look on your face and burst out laughing.
“What do I even say?” you asked, incredulous.  “I barely knew Cedric.  Oh stop laughing at me, you’re on the Quidditch team at least, you can talk about that.  I’ve got nothing.”  You groaned and put your face in your hands.
Yvette patted you on the head.  “There, there, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”  You shot her a look.  “Yeesh, fine, just write about what you do know and wish him a Happy Christmas.  You don’t have to pour your heart and soul out for every single person on the planet.”
“But if she didn’t she wouldn’t be the Hufflepuff we all know and love,” Herbert snarked through buttered toast.
There was a sudden hush as across the room a bench screeched against the stone floor.  Draco Malfoy stormed out of the hall, shoulders slumped, not at all his usual haughty gait.  During your tutoring session two days ago, he’d sounded perfectly normal.  As normal as ever, anyway.  The silence broke in a growing thrum of whispers.  Ernie and Hannah sat down, gossiping quietly; you leaned over to ask, “What’s going on?”
Hannah laughed, embarrassed.  “It’s really not funny, I almost feel bad for laughing.”
“Oh, come on,” Ernie interrupted.  “It’s kind of nice to see him knocked down a peg.  I heard that his parents don’t want him home for the holidays.”
“What?  Why?” you asked.
Ernie thought for a moment.  “I’m not sure, I think they had some kind of row or something.”
“Huh?”
“Malfoy and his dad,” Hannah said.  “I heard from Justin, who heard from Padma Patil, that Dean Thomas overheard him complaining to those thugs who follow him everywhere that they had a spat about the family’s ‘rightful status.’”
You grimaced, wondering if they were arguing about Draco working for the Ministry.  
Donna weighed in, “Yikes.”
“Oh yeah,” Ernie said, spewing toast crumbs across the table, “a gem.”
You excused yourself to hurry after him, spurred on by some unidentified sense of duty, and caught him on the dark stone stairs to the dungeons.  “Hey, wait!”
He turned and looked at you coldly.  His face seemed paler than usual.  “What is it?”
“Are you really staying here for Christmas?”
He scowled and crossed his arms.  “How did you know about that?”
“Everyone is kinda talking about it.  How come?”
“Because you gave me the bright idea to disobey my father.”  He jabbed a finger at you as he said it, and his sleeve pulled back just enough to show a hint of discoloration.  Your heart sunk to your feet.  “And then he asked where I got such an idea, and then-”
“He found out about-”
“Me being tutored by a Hufflepuff, my undignified career goals.”  He crossed his arms again.  “So I’ve been banished.  So if you’ll excuse me, I need to unpack.”  He turned on his heels and disappeared down the stairs.
After forcing yourself to listen to Professor Binns all morning, you spent the break before lunch in the library, either staring blankly at a card with a glittering poinsettia on the front, or starting blankly at the shelves hoping you’d happen across one called An Idiot’s Guide to Greeting Cards.  You had no such luck.  Draco never showed up to lunch.  Hagrid had the afternoon Care of Magical Creatures class pick strips of paper out of a bucket, yours said “Flobberworm,” and when you learned the purpose of them you were wildly jealous of Anthony Goldstein who had picked the strip labeled “Unicorn.”  Hagrid handed everyone their own buckets, and said that whoever created the best treat basket for their given creature would win ten points.  It was not his best lesson, but it seemed like everyone understood that after Umbridge’s visit to the fifth years’ lesson, it was better for everyone to play it safe.
You’d planned on trying again to write Mr. Diggory after dinner, but the common room had been decorated with garlands and the fireplace had been enchanted to burn red and green and gold, and through the enchanted windows blew sparkling snow and the scent of hot cocoa, and you immediately forgot all about  writing a Christmas card in the revelry.
The next morning, though, you remembered.
Draco wasn’t in Herbology, either, though Crabbe, Goyle, and that sycophantic Slytherin girl had shown up to class.  The three of them seemed to be having enough trouble handling their snapdragons on their own, so you waited until everyone else was done, and quickly tended to Draco’s.  Just to keep it alive over break.  After potions, Donna, Yvette, Herbert and yourself all ate a hurried dinner and went straight to the library to get some last minute work done.  You scribbled away at a chart for Astronomy, which was due in an hour, until Yvette brought up what she’d put in her Christmas card to Mr. Diggory.
“I thought he’d like to know that the whole house came out for Quidditch tryouts.  Left out how badly we were demolished by Ravenclaw of course,” she said nonchalantly.  She was only trying to be helpful, but it still felt like nagging.  “I really think once you get started-”
“Look, right now, the only thing I wanna think about is where Ursa Major is relative to Cassiopeia on my birthday.”
“Fine,” she said coldly.  “I’ll see you in Astronomy.”  She swiped her books into her bags and flounced out of the library.
Herbert and Donna were staring at you.  “What was that about?” you asked.
“Well,” Donna started slowly, “it’s just that you’ve been so… absent, lately.  I think she, I mean, we all just kind of… miss you?”
“What?” you asked, incredulous.
Herbert rolled his eyes.  “Come on, you’re all over the place these days.  Most evenings we don’t even see you.  You never come to breakfast on the weekends, and you’re behind in every class.”
“Am not!”
“Name one.”
You smirked.  “Herbology.”
“That one doesn’t count and you know it.”  You huffed and crossed your arms.  “You’re hiding something, Y/N.”
“Guys,” Donna interrupted, bent over her own assignment, “can we talk about this later?  This is due for Ancient Runes tomorrow morning.”
“Am I the only one in this friend group capable of finishing work on time?”
“It will be on time so long as I finish it before Astronomy.”
“You know what?”  Herbert picked up his own stack of books.  “I’ll see you in Astronomy as well.”  
You watched him leave, shocked.  “What is going on?”
Donna did not look up, “You have been a little distant lately.  Otherwise you’d know that Yvette’s granddad was killed in a freak accident last week.  It was all over the muggle newspapers, her mum sent a letter.  Dangerous things have been happening in the muggle world, lately.  Not that you’d have any reason to know about them.  But with how Defense Against the Dark Arts has been going, it would be nice if we could all talk to each other for more than ten minutes at a time.”
The tension in your shoulders deflated.  Maybe you had been less than attentive to your friends.  How were you supposed to know about any of this if she didn’t tell you?  It wasn’t like you didn’t see them everyday.  But then again, you wouldn’t want to talk to someone you felt pulling away.  “And Herbert?”
“Herbert’s been into Yvette since last term.”
“What?”
She smiled into her parchment.  “He never would’ve tried out for Quidditch if he wasn’t.”
“Does she know?”
“Ha, nope.”
“Does he know you know?”
“Nope.”
“Well how do you know then?”
She set her quill down and looked at you knowingly.  “Because I pay attention.”
“Oof, ok.  Point taken.”
You finished the chart with ten minutes to spare, which was just enough time for you to follow Donna to the Astronomy tower; you thanked her three times on the way for sticking around for you.  Yvette didn’t speak to you, and she and Herbert left you and Donna behind on the way back to the common room after class.
Just as you followed Donna through the round painted door, Yvette nowhere in sight, the Galleon in your pocket began to heat up.  Tomorrow night, two hours before curfew.  You bid Donna goodnight and sat down in an armchair before the fireplace with the pretense of finally writing that Christmas card.  Instead, you wrote a quick note to Harry Potter, figuring you could send it discreetly by owl in the morning.
To do so, though, you had to wake up at the crack of dawn.  Across from you, Donna still slept soundly, and with the curtains pulled tightly shut on Yvette’s bed you weren’t even sure if she was there or not.  You left some treats on your pillow for Wilbur and snuck out through the common room to the Owlery.  Donna and Herbert joined you for breakfast; Yvette sat at the other end of the table.  You watched for the owls, when one swooped down next to Harry Potter with your note, you saw him read it, and immediately show it to Hermione Granger, who in turn looked up to make eye contact with you from across the Hall.  Transfiguration was your only class of the day, after lunch, so when your friends excused themselves to get to their own electives, you met her, Harry, and Ginny’s brother in the courtyard under the clock tower.
“You know Ginny, right?” Ginny’s brother, Ron, asked.
You nodded.  “And Luna.  But Ginny’s the one who told me about the, uh, study group.”
“And you want to invite some people?  For tonight?” asked Harry.
“Yeah, if I can.  They’re just friends from my house.  Two of them are muggleborns, and they’re going home for Christmas, and even their families can tell something’s off.”
Hermione nodded.  “They’ll have to sign up, but the room shouldn’t have any problem scaling for a few extra.”  She and Ron both looked to Harry to confirm, who nodded.  “We’ll be by at dinner.  It’s still a secret until then.”
“Thank you.”  A weight lifted from your shoulders.  “See you then!”
You hung out in the library until lunch, nestled in between two bookcases in front of a window, trying once again to write a Christmas card.  Snow was falling gracefully outside, and you were content to watch it idly until something black, moving fast, caught your eye.  Someone on a broom, high above the Quidditch pitch.  You wondered for a moment if it was Yvette, if she’d skipped Divination for an end of term practice, but the glint of silver on the figure’s head disproved that theory.  Even from a distance, the black blur of Malfoy as he buzzed around the pitch, when he stopped and just hung in the air, seemed a bit lost.
You cursed under your breath and put a piece of parchment over the blank card.
Hi Mum!  And Julien! Do you think I could stay at Hogwarts for break?  I think I may have given a friend some bad advice, and I don’t want to leave them alone on Christmas.  Give my love and apologies to Buttercup, please. Happy Christmas, Y/N
You read back through the letter once, shocked you’d called Draco a friend without a second thought, but you could deal with that later, and headed for the owlery for the second time.
Yvette broke her silence at lunch, asking about an essay on the Shrivelfig due for the fourth year Herbology class the next day, so you took the opportunity.
“So, Herbert said I’ve been hiding something,” you started.  Donna, Herbert and Yvette leaned in, listening, so you could speak quietly.  “He was right.  I’m sorry, I realize this isn’t amazing timing, but if none of you have plans after dinner, I can show you what I’ve been doing.”  They all wore the same dumbfounded expression.  “It’s kind of a secret, so that’s all I can say until then.  Just, come to dinner and then if you want you can go back to not speaking to me.”
Yvette leaned back, her arms crossed.  “Have you written that Christmas card yet?”
“Not yet, but I will,” you said through gritted teeth.
“Well then I guess we’ll have to see.”
Transfiguration went better than you’d ever dared to hope - you successfully transformed your cat Wilbur into a white marble drinking goblet and back again.  Your friends joined you for dinner, and, as promised, Hermione came over after most other students left to pack for the holiday.
She sat down across from Herbert and placed the DA member list on the table, glancing around for teachers, particularly Umbridge.  “We’ve been meeting sporadically, training in defensive magic.  Y/N’s vouched for you if you want to join.”
“Who’s been teaching?” Donna asked, “You?”
Hermione shook her head and said quietly, “Harry’s the only one with the qualifications-”
“Harry Potter?” asked Yvette.
“Well, yes, he’s the only one who’s fought with You-Know-Who and lived, so-”
“Last year, you mean?” asked Herbert, who was side-eying you.
She huffed at the second interruption.  “Last year, and two years before that, and a year before that!  Do you think he’s unqualified?”  Herbert shrugged and looked at his shoes.  “Anyway, we’re meeting tonight.  Y/N can take you, but you have to sign this first.”  Yvette signed without hesitation, which meant Herbert signed next.  
You looked at Donna.  Donna looked back.  “You’ve been learning from Harry Potter, and you didn’t think to tell us?”
You smiled sheepishly, “It was a secret!  And, up until just now, kind of… invite only?”
She rolled her eyes at you and signed the parchment.  Hermione, seemingly satisfied, rolled it up and slipped it back into her robes before departing.  None of your friends had heard of the Room of Requirement before, and when they walked in to see their prefects, among several other Hufflepuff students, surrounded by touching but gaudy Christmas decor, their jaws dropped open.
Harry was chatting with some of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but waved politely at his new pupils when he saw you.  He addressed the room, “Okay!  I think this evening we should just go over the things we’ve done so far, we’ve a couple new people and since this is the last meeting before term, we may as well just get them acquainted-”
Zacharias immediately began complaining, “If I’d known that I wouldn’t have come…” until Yvette shot him a withering look.
Everyone divided into pairs; yourself with Yvette, Ernie with Donna, and Hannah with Herbert.  Starting with the Impediment Jinx, Yvette was a quick study; even with your experience with the DA she managed to hit you more than you could manage to stun her.  Then, the group got out the cushions to practice Stunning, and you watched as your friends held their own, though with varying degrees of success, against some older students.   After a while, Harry called a halt.  He seemed impressed with the progress everyone had made, and mentioned trying the Patronus Charm after break, earning a ripple of excited whispers from everyone.
Grinning and out of breath, Yvette clapped you on the shoulder.  “This is great!  I think I learned more this past hour than a whole semester with Umbridge.”
“Yeah,” Donna said, looking markedly less pleased.  “It’s a wonder it took you so long to invite us.”
You sputtered, “Well I just, like I said it was all very secret, and it is technically against the rules according to Educational Decree something or other.”
Donna waved a hand dismissively.  “Who cares about that old toad?”
“My mum, for one,” said Herbert, grinning, “she’d be livid if she knew I was disobeying someone from the Ministry.”
All around you, people were filing out in twos and threes.  Hannah turned to wish Harry a Happy Christmas, but before she could say anything, her face fell and she tapped Ernie on the shoulder.  The four of you turned around as well; it was Cho.  Standing in front of Cedric’s picture that had been taped under some clippings from the Daily Prophet on the mirrored wall.  You all tapped the other Hufflepuffs as they passed you, and they all stopped, except for Zacharias Smith, who simply rolled his eyes and left.
Her shoulders shook; Hannah flinched.
“Cho?” she said, tentatively, the rest of you moving up carefully behind her.
Cho startled, and turned around, sniffling.  “Oh, Hannah.”  She hastily wiped her eyes.  “I thought you’d already-”
“We just, sorry, we just wanted to tell you that, um,” Hannah looked around at the rest of you, “we’re with you.  We miss him too.”  A few students around you affirmed this quietly.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, still patting her puffy cheeks.
“He was a good person,” Ernie said.
She nodded.  
Yvette added, “Who deserved better.”
Cho let out a choked sob.  You, eyes burning, reached a hand out and patted her lightly on the shoulder, which only made her cry harder.  “Sorry,” you said, embarrassed.  Cho’s friend sidled up to her, looking at all of you suspiciously.
“Have a Happy Christmas, Cho,” Hannah said quietly, before herding the rest of your house back to the common room.
Later, you sat before the fireplace in the common room once again, knit woolen blanket draped over your legs, quill in hand, looking at a blank Christmas card.  Then, you started to write.
~~~ Taglist ~~~
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