this is a fic post
So, I've joined hh_writersblock and, shockingly, it's actually cured my writer's block. Who'da thunk it?! I haven't been able to write much of anything at all in ages, and it's been lovely actually finishing a few fics! One-shots, true, but I think the problem before was that my head wanted to do epics but I lacked the stamina or perseverence to actually see it through. So having a half-hour deadline to write these things is handy because it means I'm forced to think of a beginning, middle and end to something I can feasibly complete, instead of having vague ideas of some huge saga that sounds great in my head but will never be typed out.
Otoh, once that half hour's up, it's a bit of a challenge not to go back and edit myself, haha. I mean, typos and such are fair game, but it's unsporting to go back and rewrite massive chunks, even if you did get a brilliant idea for a subplot. *sighs* Still, on the whole, I'm rather pleased with myself! A bit nervous as to the characterization, but oh, well. :P
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Challenge #61: (New Year's) Resolution
Title: Put Quill to Parchment
Rating/Warnings: G
Characters/Pairing: Hermione and Ron (friendship)
Summary: Hermione deals with her resolution as she does everything else- with maximum efficiency.
Word Count: 567
Author's Notes: First fic written for this comm. *feels accomplished* ^_^
Hermione was curled up in her usual corner of the library, parchment scattered across the table and ink dotting her hands as she thoughtfully stroked her quill against her cheek.
"Oi, Hermione," came a familiar voice, and she looked up to see Ron sauntering over. "You're weeks ahead on all your classes, and term hasn't even started yet. Give the essays a rest, and come for a walk with me and Harry."
"Can you wait twenty minutes?" she said distractedly. "I'm just finishing off a letter to my parents, I'll be done soon enough. And let's stop at the Owlery before we go anywhere else."
"You know, you could've given that orange monster back and gotten an owl of your own, then you wouldn't have to keep using the school ones... Oww! I didn't mean it, Crookshanks, get off! Hermione!"
"There was no reason to be rude, Ronald." At his continued splutters of outrage, she sighed, "Oh, all right, come here, Crooks. I'll never get my letter done with him yelling bloody murder."
Ron snorted in indignation. "How good of you to care."
"I was rather more concerned Madam Pince would throw us out if you caused a scene," Hermione said sternly, but with a slight twitch of her lips as she glanced sideways at Ron to see how he would react.
He opened his mouth as if to object, but then shut it again as he evidently realized she was just winding him up. Hermione pursed her lips in disappointment. It wasn't as easy to provoke Ron these days. She must be losing her touch.
"So why is your letter larger than some of our textbooks?" he asked, eyeing the sheaf of parchments she was stacking up.
"Well, I made a New Year's Resolution to send letters to my parents more often," Hermione explained. "They're a bit disappointed that I spend my holidays here instead of coming home, and they complain that they never get to see me. So I thought I'd better make sure I write to them often enough so they don't try to force the issue."
Ron, to whom the thought of writing home had never occurred, looked blank but nodded as though he agreed.
"I don't know that the owl's going to be able to carry all that," he joked, thumbing through all the pages she'd written.
"It's not all going at once," she said, grabbing them back and frowning at him. "They're in order, don't get them mixed up. See, I may have resolved to send letters more often, but I thought it was more efficient to get my writing done in one go now that it's the holidays, and then send a couple pages at a time. This way I won't have to put aside time from my schoolwork."
"You're priceless, you are, Hermione. Some priorities you have there!"
"Well, it also means I won't be busy writing to my parents when I could be spending time with you and Harry," she said, then raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully, "For instance, helping the two of you finish your homework."
He cleared his throat. "Right you are as always, Hermione. Carry on here, I'll meet you at the Owlery with Harry in a bit, then. Make sure your hand doesn't drop off from all that writing!"
She waved him off and returned to making good on her New Year's Resolution.
---
Challenge #87: Closeted
Title: The Perils of Being Nice
Rating/Warnings: G
Characters/Pairing: Hermione and Snape
Summary: Hermione has fun at Snape’s expense while they’re biding their time in a closet.
Word Count: 868
Author's Notes: Because I rather love the idea of Hermione being a pest and Snape being long-suffering, hee. >:D
“You’re actually a nice person, aren’t you?” Hermione said in the tones of one who has had an epiphany.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Snape said, frowning darkly, but that had lost the intimidation factor it once held when she was a student.
After all, teachers couldn’t take points from one another, no matter how serious the personality conflict. And considering he’d just promptly whisked her into a broom closet to avoid the oncoming tide of Stinksap that marked the release of the patented Weasley Portable Swamp, he couldn’t hate her that much.
Before today, if you had asked Hermione whether Snape would trouble himself to remove her from the path of a messy, destructive Weasley product, she would’ve had no doubt Snape would have left her there to be covered in the smelly deluge. But as she’d stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, watching the incoming mass of foul-smelling gunk rapidly spreading across the floor, he’d unexpectedly reached out to grab her and hustle her across to a broom closet she’d never even noticed, shutting the door just in time to keep them safely untouched as the swamp continued down the corridor.
They were now stuck in this broom closet until the swamp had a chance to solidify somewhat so that they wouldn’t be flooded with the icky, gooey substance the moment they opened the door.
“All right, so you’re not really that nice, but you’re occasionally predisposed to do nice things.”
“There really is no need to keep nattering on in such an inane manner, Professor Granger.”
“Like pulling me into this closet out of the way of that bloody awful mess out there. I have to admit, my reflexes aren’t what they used to be during the war. I was about to cast a Vanishing spell, only I remembered just in time that it automatically triggers any Weasley invention to multiply tenfold. And so I was about to try another spell, only to recollect they included a nasty side-effect to that one, as well as several others. And I was so focused on the mental exercise that I completely forgot that I should actually run. This is what academic life has done to me!”
Snape sighed and leaned against the wall, pinching his nose tiredly. She thought he might’ve closed his eyes in frustration, but his curtain of black hair swung across his face and blocked her view.
“But as I was saying, it was- unexpectedly, really- nice of you to think of me as well.”
“You were in my way,” he said snidely. “It was push you along, or knock you over and trample over your body to get here.”
“Ah, but then we both know you didn’t need to seek out the safety of a closet to get away from that swamp,” she said in what seemed even to her to be an unnecessarily smug manner. Good heavens, was she enjoying needling Severus Snape? Then again, it was so rare for him to behave in any manner that wasn’t snide and unpleasant, and while she really ought to be reinforcing positive behavior from him, she couldn’t resist torturing him a little.
Maybe she missed bickering with Ron a little too much if she was resorting to sniping at Snape to make up for the lack of conflict in her life lately.
“You could’ve easily just- flown up and way,” she pointed out with accompanying hand gestures. “Since you have the power of flight unaided by a broom or any other apparatus.”
“Amazing how you have not grown out of your tendency to talk as though you are regurgitating a textbook,” he said snidely.
“In this case, it’s your press cuttings I’m quoting. There was a plethora of articles all extolling your virtues when it came out that you were a hero rather than villain.”
He snorted. She got the feeling he was actually rather offended by the appellation of ‘hero’. Then again, since it was given to Harry as well, she supposed it was not surprising he’d eschew such a description. Or perhaps it was the ‘virtuous’ part he found amusing. It did seem incongruous with his tall, dark and menacing image.
“I can just imagine how many more owls you’d get from love-struck fans if I gave an interview to the Daily Prophet about my personal encounter with your chivalrous nature,” she continued mischievously. (Yes, unlikely as it seemed, Snape wound up having to Incendio numerous fan-letters on a weekly basis. She could only conclude they had either never had him as a teacher or must’ve experienced selective amnesia since their student days)
This finally cracked his stoic demeanor and he glowered darkly at her. “Granger, if you are remotely likely to do such a foolish thing, I will open this door and shove you face-first into that swamp out there to dispel any idiotic notions of my chivalrous, heroic nature.”
She muffled a snicker and settled back into her corner. It was ever so much more satisfying being Snape’s colleague than his student. Perhaps she could come up with further pretexts to impose herself upon the man- she had a feeling baiting him was going to be her new favorite pastime.
---
Challenge #88: Zombie Apocalypse
Title: Hold Onto the World We All Remember Fighting For
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairing: Luna and Neville (friendship), Hermione
Summary: An apocalypse is never the best time to test the patience of one's fellow survivors.
Word Count: 1004
Author's Notes: I…never imagined I could work my way up to a thousand words. Holy crap, what I can accomplish when I’m inspired! I blame the prompt, it really sparked a vivid scene in my mind and I was able to write this so easily. *sighs* I wish more fics would pour from my fingertips like that, instead of the pain I usually go through in birthing them!
"I did warn you," Luna announced placidly to the group wearily gathered in the Room of Requirement. "We even published it in the Quibbler two months ago. It's a shame nobody paid attention to us then."
"No!" Hermione shot to her feet, snapping, "Don't even start with this right now! You bloody well did not mention anything remotely relevant to this- this apocalypse. Some of your usual twaddle about blumdiggering pustules or gnarl-ridden bats or whatever, but you did not mention Inferi! Not one word! Because I or anyone else would've taken you seriously if you talked about something that actually existed instead of your usual rot. So don't sit there and act like you knew better than the rest of us and you're omniscient or- or-"
Here, her hands began to shake and her voice faltered as she struggled. Whether to regain control over herself or to summon up more vitriol against the bemused blonde, nobody knew, but Ron, who'd been hovering indecisively nearby (interfering with Hermione when she was in a temper was definitely a Bad Idea), took this opportunity to grab her gently by the arm and steer her away.
Luna shrugged and appeared to put Hermione's meltdown out of her mind. She began swaying to music nobody else could hear, her radish earrings clinking together softly. The others in the room took her cue and slowly resumed regular conversation, though a bit more hushed and solemn. Cracks were showing, and people feared where this would lead. An apocalypse was never the best time to test the patience of one's fellow survivors- you never knew when an old grudge or a new friction might leave you scrambling behind on your own, left to fend for yourself against terrifying soulless undead creatures intent on taking your life.
Nobody wanted to take sides, but Luna and Hermione had been fighting more and more often- or rather, Luna had been making her usual batty remarks and setting off Hermione's temper, which was on a hair-trigger these days. That added more tension to a time when they really needed to be focusing on survival rather than inter-group conflicts.
Neville looked troubled. He didn't need to be a Seer to divine where this was going- nowhere good. Hermione was brilliant and a great person to have at your back, but she also had a habit of giving into hysteria and going to pieces when people needed to keep their heads and put on a semblance of calm to reassure others and keep the group from fracturing. And Luna...unintentionally, but surely, was going to drive her insane. This situation was just going to bring everyone down and foster further discord and exacerbate tiny things that shouldn't even be issues until they exploded into major conflicts.
He had a feeling Luna was restless. She was used to wandering around, skipping through corridors, visiting Thestrals, strolling through the grounds and into the forest, chasing her fantastical creatures. Being cooped up here was stifling her.
Watching her odd rhythmic swaying, he came to a decision. "Luna," he said, putting a hand on her arm.
She turned and gazed at him quizzically.
"You know I think you're fantastic, but you really need to try to tone down the oddball routine. It's part of your charm, but it's going to rub others the wrong way."
Any other girl would've huffed in outrage, shrugged his hand off and stalked away by now, but Luna dealt in blunt honesty. And what she valued about Neville was how he always spoke the truth without being hurtful the way others might be. He didn't keep things hidden out of pity, but he didn't spew them out to try to wound her. It was a matter-of-fact statement, and she found nothing objectionable about that.
"You have a plan, don't you?" She could see determination in his face, the fierce idealism of a leader with a plan to execute.
"I think we need hope. We're all cooped up here with nothing to do but receive more reports of people dying. Some of our brightest are trying to come up with a way to stop the Inferi for good, but it'll take time. In the meanwhile, people are bickering and tearing each other down, and we can't, we just can't afford that at a time like this."
"You want someone to rally us together? A figurehead?"
Neville nodded. "I was thinking...we could get the Room of Requirement to make us a path, help us get to a quiet area, somewhere safe, and then we'll fly to the Ministry. Hunt around for a prophecy, see if we can find out who is supposed to save us this time."
Luna nodded solemnly. "I think that will help. Everyone's looking to Harry, because he saved us before. But he has no more idea what to do than the rest of us. Also, it would really help if the new Chosen One actually had some qualifications, because as wonderful as Harry is, he's a not a good student and he doesn't know many useful spells. An expelliarmus isn't going to help much."
"So, we'll leave tomorrow morning, midday, when they're least active. Search the Ministry, find out where the rest of the prophecies are stored. And while we're gone, we can survey the situation out there, see if there are any other survivors holed up anywhere, try to find more food and set up additional shelters. We can't stay at Hogwarts forever. It’s becoming too unsafe."
His features tightened as he thought about the logistics, about how they were going to keep everyone fed and safe, how they were going to hold out until this was over- if they would even see that day.
Luna moved her arm so that his hand now rested on hers and she turned it to lace their fingers together. "Good plans, Neville. But we'll just take it one day at a time. And you don’t need to worry so much. We already have hope- we have you.”
---
Otoh, once that half hour's up, it's a bit of a challenge not to go back and edit myself, haha. I mean, typos and such are fair game, but it's unsporting to go back and rewrite massive chunks, even if you did get a brilliant idea for a subplot. *sighs* Still, on the whole, I'm rather pleased with myself! A bit nervous as to the characterization, but oh, well. :P
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Challenge #61: (New Year's) Resolution
Title: Put Quill to Parchment
Rating/Warnings: G
Characters/Pairing: Hermione and Ron (friendship)
Summary: Hermione deals with her resolution as she does everything else- with maximum efficiency.
Word Count: 567
Author's Notes: First fic written for this comm. *feels accomplished* ^_^
Hermione was curled up in her usual corner of the library, parchment scattered across the table and ink dotting her hands as she thoughtfully stroked her quill against her cheek.
"Oi, Hermione," came a familiar voice, and she looked up to see Ron sauntering over. "You're weeks ahead on all your classes, and term hasn't even started yet. Give the essays a rest, and come for a walk with me and Harry."
"Can you wait twenty minutes?" she said distractedly. "I'm just finishing off a letter to my parents, I'll be done soon enough. And let's stop at the Owlery before we go anywhere else."
"You know, you could've given that orange monster back and gotten an owl of your own, then you wouldn't have to keep using the school ones... Oww! I didn't mean it, Crookshanks, get off! Hermione!"
"There was no reason to be rude, Ronald." At his continued splutters of outrage, she sighed, "Oh, all right, come here, Crooks. I'll never get my letter done with him yelling bloody murder."
Ron snorted in indignation. "How good of you to care."
"I was rather more concerned Madam Pince would throw us out if you caused a scene," Hermione said sternly, but with a slight twitch of her lips as she glanced sideways at Ron to see how he would react.
He opened his mouth as if to object, but then shut it again as he evidently realized she was just winding him up. Hermione pursed her lips in disappointment. It wasn't as easy to provoke Ron these days. She must be losing her touch.
"So why is your letter larger than some of our textbooks?" he asked, eyeing the sheaf of parchments she was stacking up.
"Well, I made a New Year's Resolution to send letters to my parents more often," Hermione explained. "They're a bit disappointed that I spend my holidays here instead of coming home, and they complain that they never get to see me. So I thought I'd better make sure I write to them often enough so they don't try to force the issue."
Ron, to whom the thought of writing home had never occurred, looked blank but nodded as though he agreed.
"I don't know that the owl's going to be able to carry all that," he joked, thumbing through all the pages she'd written.
"It's not all going at once," she said, grabbing them back and frowning at him. "They're in order, don't get them mixed up. See, I may have resolved to send letters more often, but I thought it was more efficient to get my writing done in one go now that it's the holidays, and then send a couple pages at a time. This way I won't have to put aside time from my schoolwork."
"You're priceless, you are, Hermione. Some priorities you have there!"
"Well, it also means I won't be busy writing to my parents when I could be spending time with you and Harry," she said, then raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully, "For instance, helping the two of you finish your homework."
He cleared his throat. "Right you are as always, Hermione. Carry on here, I'll meet you at the Owlery with Harry in a bit, then. Make sure your hand doesn't drop off from all that writing!"
She waved him off and returned to making good on her New Year's Resolution.
---
Challenge #87: Closeted
Title: The Perils of Being Nice
Rating/Warnings: G
Characters/Pairing: Hermione and Snape
Summary: Hermione has fun at Snape’s expense while they’re biding their time in a closet.
Word Count: 868
Author's Notes: Because I rather love the idea of Hermione being a pest and Snape being long-suffering, hee. >:D
“You’re actually a nice person, aren’t you?” Hermione said in the tones of one who has had an epiphany.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Snape said, frowning darkly, but that had lost the intimidation factor it once held when she was a student.
After all, teachers couldn’t take points from one another, no matter how serious the personality conflict. And considering he’d just promptly whisked her into a broom closet to avoid the oncoming tide of Stinksap that marked the release of the patented Weasley Portable Swamp, he couldn’t hate her that much.
Before today, if you had asked Hermione whether Snape would trouble himself to remove her from the path of a messy, destructive Weasley product, she would’ve had no doubt Snape would have left her there to be covered in the smelly deluge. But as she’d stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, watching the incoming mass of foul-smelling gunk rapidly spreading across the floor, he’d unexpectedly reached out to grab her and hustle her across to a broom closet she’d never even noticed, shutting the door just in time to keep them safely untouched as the swamp continued down the corridor.
They were now stuck in this broom closet until the swamp had a chance to solidify somewhat so that they wouldn’t be flooded with the icky, gooey substance the moment they opened the door.
“All right, so you’re not really that nice, but you’re occasionally predisposed to do nice things.”
“There really is no need to keep nattering on in such an inane manner, Professor Granger.”
“Like pulling me into this closet out of the way of that bloody awful mess out there. I have to admit, my reflexes aren’t what they used to be during the war. I was about to cast a Vanishing spell, only I remembered just in time that it automatically triggers any Weasley invention to multiply tenfold. And so I was about to try another spell, only to recollect they included a nasty side-effect to that one, as well as several others. And I was so focused on the mental exercise that I completely forgot that I should actually run. This is what academic life has done to me!”
Snape sighed and leaned against the wall, pinching his nose tiredly. She thought he might’ve closed his eyes in frustration, but his curtain of black hair swung across his face and blocked her view.
“But as I was saying, it was- unexpectedly, really- nice of you to think of me as well.”
“You were in my way,” he said snidely. “It was push you along, or knock you over and trample over your body to get here.”
“Ah, but then we both know you didn’t need to seek out the safety of a closet to get away from that swamp,” she said in what seemed even to her to be an unnecessarily smug manner. Good heavens, was she enjoying needling Severus Snape? Then again, it was so rare for him to behave in any manner that wasn’t snide and unpleasant, and while she really ought to be reinforcing positive behavior from him, she couldn’t resist torturing him a little.
Maybe she missed bickering with Ron a little too much if she was resorting to sniping at Snape to make up for the lack of conflict in her life lately.
“You could’ve easily just- flown up and way,” she pointed out with accompanying hand gestures. “Since you have the power of flight unaided by a broom or any other apparatus.”
“Amazing how you have not grown out of your tendency to talk as though you are regurgitating a textbook,” he said snidely.
“In this case, it’s your press cuttings I’m quoting. There was a plethora of articles all extolling your virtues when it came out that you were a hero rather than villain.”
He snorted. She got the feeling he was actually rather offended by the appellation of ‘hero’. Then again, since it was given to Harry as well, she supposed it was not surprising he’d eschew such a description. Or perhaps it was the ‘virtuous’ part he found amusing. It did seem incongruous with his tall, dark and menacing image.
“I can just imagine how many more owls you’d get from love-struck fans if I gave an interview to the Daily Prophet about my personal encounter with your chivalrous nature,” she continued mischievously. (Yes, unlikely as it seemed, Snape wound up having to Incendio numerous fan-letters on a weekly basis. She could only conclude they had either never had him as a teacher or must’ve experienced selective amnesia since their student days)
This finally cracked his stoic demeanor and he glowered darkly at her. “Granger, if you are remotely likely to do such a foolish thing, I will open this door and shove you face-first into that swamp out there to dispel any idiotic notions of my chivalrous, heroic nature.”
She muffled a snicker and settled back into her corner. It was ever so much more satisfying being Snape’s colleague than his student. Perhaps she could come up with further pretexts to impose herself upon the man- she had a feeling baiting him was going to be her new favorite pastime.
---
Challenge #88: Zombie Apocalypse
Title: Hold Onto the World We All Remember Fighting For
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairing: Luna and Neville (friendship), Hermione
Summary: An apocalypse is never the best time to test the patience of one's fellow survivors.
Word Count: 1004
Author's Notes: I…never imagined I could work my way up to a thousand words. Holy crap, what I can accomplish when I’m inspired! I blame the prompt, it really sparked a vivid scene in my mind and I was able to write this so easily. *sighs* I wish more fics would pour from my fingertips like that, instead of the pain I usually go through in birthing them!
"I did warn you," Luna announced placidly to the group wearily gathered in the Room of Requirement. "We even published it in the Quibbler two months ago. It's a shame nobody paid attention to us then."
"No!" Hermione shot to her feet, snapping, "Don't even start with this right now! You bloody well did not mention anything remotely relevant to this- this apocalypse. Some of your usual twaddle about blumdiggering pustules or gnarl-ridden bats or whatever, but you did not mention Inferi! Not one word! Because I or anyone else would've taken you seriously if you talked about something that actually existed instead of your usual rot. So don't sit there and act like you knew better than the rest of us and you're omniscient or- or-"
Here, her hands began to shake and her voice faltered as she struggled. Whether to regain control over herself or to summon up more vitriol against the bemused blonde, nobody knew, but Ron, who'd been hovering indecisively nearby (interfering with Hermione when she was in a temper was definitely a Bad Idea), took this opportunity to grab her gently by the arm and steer her away.
Luna shrugged and appeared to put Hermione's meltdown out of her mind. She began swaying to music nobody else could hear, her radish earrings clinking together softly. The others in the room took her cue and slowly resumed regular conversation, though a bit more hushed and solemn. Cracks were showing, and people feared where this would lead. An apocalypse was never the best time to test the patience of one's fellow survivors- you never knew when an old grudge or a new friction might leave you scrambling behind on your own, left to fend for yourself against terrifying soulless undead creatures intent on taking your life.
Nobody wanted to take sides, but Luna and Hermione had been fighting more and more often- or rather, Luna had been making her usual batty remarks and setting off Hermione's temper, which was on a hair-trigger these days. That added more tension to a time when they really needed to be focusing on survival rather than inter-group conflicts.
Neville looked troubled. He didn't need to be a Seer to divine where this was going- nowhere good. Hermione was brilliant and a great person to have at your back, but she also had a habit of giving into hysteria and going to pieces when people needed to keep their heads and put on a semblance of calm to reassure others and keep the group from fracturing. And Luna...unintentionally, but surely, was going to drive her insane. This situation was just going to bring everyone down and foster further discord and exacerbate tiny things that shouldn't even be issues until they exploded into major conflicts.
He had a feeling Luna was restless. She was used to wandering around, skipping through corridors, visiting Thestrals, strolling through the grounds and into the forest, chasing her fantastical creatures. Being cooped up here was stifling her.
Watching her odd rhythmic swaying, he came to a decision. "Luna," he said, putting a hand on her arm.
She turned and gazed at him quizzically.
"You know I think you're fantastic, but you really need to try to tone down the oddball routine. It's part of your charm, but it's going to rub others the wrong way."
Any other girl would've huffed in outrage, shrugged his hand off and stalked away by now, but Luna dealt in blunt honesty. And what she valued about Neville was how he always spoke the truth without being hurtful the way others might be. He didn't keep things hidden out of pity, but he didn't spew them out to try to wound her. It was a matter-of-fact statement, and she found nothing objectionable about that.
"You have a plan, don't you?" She could see determination in his face, the fierce idealism of a leader with a plan to execute.
"I think we need hope. We're all cooped up here with nothing to do but receive more reports of people dying. Some of our brightest are trying to come up with a way to stop the Inferi for good, but it'll take time. In the meanwhile, people are bickering and tearing each other down, and we can't, we just can't afford that at a time like this."
"You want someone to rally us together? A figurehead?"
Neville nodded. "I was thinking...we could get the Room of Requirement to make us a path, help us get to a quiet area, somewhere safe, and then we'll fly to the Ministry. Hunt around for a prophecy, see if we can find out who is supposed to save us this time."
Luna nodded solemnly. "I think that will help. Everyone's looking to Harry, because he saved us before. But he has no more idea what to do than the rest of us. Also, it would really help if the new Chosen One actually had some qualifications, because as wonderful as Harry is, he's a not a good student and he doesn't know many useful spells. An expelliarmus isn't going to help much."
"So, we'll leave tomorrow morning, midday, when they're least active. Search the Ministry, find out where the rest of the prophecies are stored. And while we're gone, we can survey the situation out there, see if there are any other survivors holed up anywhere, try to find more food and set up additional shelters. We can't stay at Hogwarts forever. It’s becoming too unsafe."
His features tightened as he thought about the logistics, about how they were going to keep everyone fed and safe, how they were going to hold out until this was over- if they would even see that day.
Luna moved her arm so that his hand now rested on hers and she turned it to lace their fingers together. "Good plans, Neville. But we'll just take it one day at a time. And you don’t need to worry so much. We already have hope- we have you.”
---