HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!
Author’s Notes: Merry Christmas, everyone! This was my oh-so original idea for Christmas presents. (And so you finally find out what all the questions were for.)
Please note, for archiving reasons (not that I actually think anyone will want to archive these): These drabbles are Christmas presents, and as such, they do not belong to me. If you want to archive them, then please ask permission from whoever it was written for. Thank you.
Finally, I think that it is only proper to quote Mark Twain before moving on to the drabbles: "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot."
i. Table Set for Two (Cedric/Hermione, 145 words, for Jess)
Hermione remembers her fourth year. She remembers Viktor and Phlegm and of course she remembers Harry, and she remembers the tournament. Most of all from that year, Hermione remembers Cedric Diggory.
She remembers the way that his smile lit up his whole face, the shine in his eyes when he talked to her. The way he looked in black and yellow.
She remembers promises they made to each other - impossible promises, which had once seemed within reach. She remembers talks in the library; annoyance when he asked Cho Chang to the Ball, and immediate acceptance with a sugary smile when Viktor asked her.
They had had something, she knew. Something special. And now that she’s left school and the war’s over, Harry and Ron are sharing a flat a few blocks away, and Hermione’s not expecting guests for dinner, but her table’s set for two.
ii. Fly the Coop (Aly/Nawat, 145 words, for [YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOUR NAME!!!])
When Kyprioth came to the crows, they were surprised that he asked them to protect a lauarin foreigner. They didn’t understand it at all. Except Nawat.
Nawat had always been somewhat of an oddball: he was far too fascinated by humans for his flock’s taste. And Nawat was especially drawn by Aly Homewood.
He liked the way the sun glittered in her hair, and he liked the way her teeth sparkled like miniature pearls. He liked her mind, as well: he liked how she could understand him, even without speaking his language; he liked how she spoke back to the god, whilst never questioning why she was here; he liked her cleverness, and the protection it gave to the twice-royal.
And so, eventually, he grew tired of watching her and communicating without words: Nawat the crow became Nawat Crow the crow-who-turned-into-a-human, and Aly loved him.
iii. The Last Horcrux (Harry/Myrtle, 153 words, for Sheri)
Somewhere in-between his sixteenth and seventeenth years, Harry Potter died. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened - he knew only that he had been alive, and now he was not.
And it had taken him quite a while to realise the fact. Ron and Hermione would stare at him sadly and try not to cry, and it was only when they finally managed to kill Voldemort that he managed to figure out why. Because Harry had been the last Horcrux, and Voldemort could not possibly die unless he had, too.
Haunting his best friends lost its novelty after a while, especially with the media hounding all three of them, and somehow managing to find all sorts of embarrassing photographs (Harry was tempted to blame Colin and Dennis Creevey for that, though).
"If you die down there, you're welcome to share my toilet," Myrtle had told him in second year. So he did.
iv. Can't Stop But- (Harry/Hermione, 163 words, for Oli)
Hermione can't stop moving. One foot falls, and then the next, and she's still moving - following Harry, and Ron's following her. In July they're in Ottery St. Catchpole, and by August they've moved out of Devon and they're almost at Bristol.
As summer turns into autumn, they move slowly northwards. Ron loudly claims that he wishes they could apparate, but he doesn't have his licence, and she doesn't have enough strength to take both him and Harry Side-Along. And besides, apparating makes Harry feel slightly claustrophobic.
They spend Christmastime in Middlesbrough, and while Ron's out searching for firewood and she and Harry are supposed to be setting up the tent, she kisses Harry for the first time. Ron is surprisingly accepting when he returns to find the reason why the tent's not even out of its bag.
They set off again in the morning, heading towards Newcastle upon Tyne. Hermione knows that she can't stop moving, but she's at home in Harry's arms.
v. A Curious Correspondence (Draco/Minerva, 118 words, for Laura)
Date: 29-06-1992
To: snape@hogwarts.edu.uk
From: lucius@malfoy.wiz
Subject: RE:
I am deeply shocked, Severus, that you would suggest such a thing of Draco. As you are well aware, my son is no less than an exemplary student - some of yours (Mr. Nott and Miss Parkinson, to name a few), would do well to follow his example.
I can assure you that Draco's abilities as a Transfiguration student are admirable, as I personally tutored him in the subject before he began to attend Hogwarts. It is absurd to think that his exam results had anything to do with a torrid affair with Professor McGonagall, and I would thank you not to bring the subject up again.
Sincerely,
Lucius Malfoy
vi. The Pimp Cane Cometh (Harry/Ron, 71 words, for Lydia)
Harry and Ron are gay for each other, and here’s the evidence.
MALFOY SR: Observe the pimp cane, yo, as I poke it into your chin.
HARRY: *Stares*
MALFOY JR: *Sniggers*
MALFOY SR: *Is visibly disappointed at HARRY’s lack of reaction*
MALFOYS: *Disappear*
HERMIONE: Do you realise that Mr. Malfoy was hitting on you, Harry?
HARRY: *Blinks*
HERMIONE: *Rolls eyes* Boys *Leaves*
RON: *Has really, really red ears* *Fumes*
ALL: *Exits*
vii. Rain (Harry/Cedric, 192 words, for mara_202)
It didn’t rain on the day. It didn’t rain, even though everyone at the funeral knew it should be, and Harry knew it too.
Harry had demanded to come. Paying his respects was the only thing that he could do for Cedric now, after all. And maybe he could one day kill the bastard who’d done this.
As the coffin was lowered into the grave by some kind of machine, he stared, a sharp buzzing void filling his ears and drowning out the false lamentations of the Muggle priest who was delivering the obituary. Harry knew that the skies ought to be screaming at this sudden, unjust loss of a boy who had shone like a beacon - a symbol of all that was right and good in their world.
He shook his head and the priest finished, glancing nervously at the clouds and then hurrying away. But Harry stayed until everyone else had gone, and crouched down in front of the grave.
He grasped a handful of earth and held it tightly in his fist, kneeling. ‘Goodbye, Cedric,’ he said, and when he kissed his fist, the heavens opened and it poured.
viii. How to be Dead (Harry/Myrtle, 76 words, for Vicky H.)
Myrtle’s To-Do List:
1. Cry
2. Haunt Olive Hornby
3. Avoid malicious book-throwing Weasleys
4. Check prefect’s bathroom for cute boys
5. Avoid being flushed down the toilet
6. If above fails, find way to the lake, and converse with the giant squid
7. Convince Harry to come and visit
8. Convince Harry to come and share my toilet
9. Spy on Harry in the bath
10. Have Harry killed (& hope he becomes a ghost)
ix. Yesterday My Brain Exploded (Ron/Hermione, 135 words, for Zsuzsa)
I think the world may have stopped spinning yesterday. Either that, or hell froze over. Ron Weasley, prat extraordinaire, was nice. And charming.
He offered to carry my books to Charms for me, because I was “carrying far too much already”. And then he smiled, and Harry’s eyebrows were somewhere near Jupiter. As were my own.
This is very, very out of character. Must investigate cases of temporary insanity in sixteen-year-old Hogwarts males (symptoms include: offering to carry geeky best friend’s books to Charms, &c).
Luna thinks he may have been sorry for taking me for granted since first year. However, I believe it is more likely that I was suffering from overwork and hallucinated the entire encounter. The only thing that happened yesterday was my brain exploding. And I dare you to contradict me.
x. Letters (Hedwig/Hermes, 147 words, for Frosty)
‘Another letter from Percy?’ Harry asked dubiously, looking up from his letter and seeing Hermes perched on the windowsill.
Ron shook his head. ‘Nope. The prat hasn’t bothered contacting me since that last letter.’ Harry knew the one.
The owl only stopped there for a moment, though, and then fluttered away, presumably to the owlery. Ron returned to his Potions essay, and Harry brought his attention back to his letter to Lupin.
When he’d finished, he trudged up to the owlery, hoping to find one of the school owls, since Hedwig couldn’t exactly leave her chicks for too long at the moment.
He paused. Hermes preened Hedwig’s feathers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Harry raised an eyebrow and Hedwig gave him a reproaching look.
He shrugged. ‘Better him that Pig, I guess,’ he said, and then left without sending his letter.
xi. Drowning (Sirius/Remus, 125 words, for norweigianridge)
Sirius thinks that Remus might be more than a little bit insane. Remus stares and stares and stares, and generally does little else. Except maybe reading.
When Sirius catches him staring, he blushes and turns away after offering a small, embarrassed smile. Sirius used to wonder why, but Peter - the perceptive one - told him straight-out as soon as he bothered to ask. Remus fancies Sirius, and Sirius thinks it might be driving Remus crazy.
Because Remus doesn’t get his homework in on time anymore. He’s stopped asking for extra credit essays because he doesn’t have the time. He hardly even objects to vicious pranks these days.
And while Sirius wonders, Remus drowns in his grey eyes, and wonders if he’ll ever remember how to swim.
xii. Oddity (Harry/Luna, 266 words, for Naomi)
28-08-1996: Dear Diary,
Daddy and I came back from Sweden last night. We didn’t manage to find any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks this time, but we’re going to be going back next summer - and we did manage to find some genuine-looking footprints!
I have three days left of the holidays to finish all my summer homework, and then I’ll be going back to Hogwarts. It’ll be difficult, but I’m sure I’ll manage somehow: it helps that I started most of my essays before we left.
In other news, a pack of blibbering humdingers has moved into the back garden. There are five adults, and three little ones, and yesterday I even managed to get close enough to stroke one of them. Daddy says he doesn’t know why most people can’t see them, but it probably has something to do with truly believing that they exist.
Three letters arrived this morning: one from Neville Longbottom, one from Ginny Weasley, and one from Harry Potter. You remember that I told you about them last term, Diary, don’t you? Ginny and Neville are going to save a seat for me on the train, and they were both very sorry that I couldn’t meet them at Diagon Alley. Harry asked if I managed to find any “Snore-cats”. He wanted to talk about the Black Veil as well - his godfather fell through it: did I tell you that before? Anyway, he seemed very sad. I hope I will be able to talk more about it soon, since last time he looked a little happier by the end of our chat.
More later,
Luna Lovegood
xiii. In the Shadows (Harry/Voldemort, 114 words, for Street)
Harry curled up beside the throne. The Dark Lord Voldemort - his supreme evilness - fingered his wand, listening in silence to Draco Malfoy’s most recent feeble excuse for failure. This time, it involved a candlestick, Pansy Parkinson, a hole in the ground, and a Hippogriff.
‘Crucio,’ Lord Voldemort hissed as soon as the git stopped snivelling. Malfoy screamed, and Harry allowed himself a moment of savage joy at the noise he made.
After his brief torture session, Malfoy was dismissed, and he left as if a hellhound were on his tail. Harry giggled at the scene. Lord Voldemort curled his spidery fingers through Harry’s hair.
‘Quiet, pet,’ he said, and the room was silent again.
xiv. Homophobia (Harry/Blaise, 93 words, for herald_mage)
Homophobia. The word sounds beautiful as it rolls from Blaise’s tongue, like music to Harry’s ears. It feels wonderful on his own tongue, too, and he doesn’t quite know why.
Such a beautiful word: such an ugly concept. Harry loves Blaise more than he’s ever loved anyone, and it scares him that someone could fear him because of that. Harry wonders why people feel the need to make ugly things beautiful with long, pretty words.
Because homophobia is what lost him Ron, and that hurts Harry more than he thought anything ever could.
xv. Mismatched (Neville/Luna, 139 words, for Ellie)
Neville Longbottom is quite possibly the clumsiest person ever to pass through Hogwarts - excluding that Nymphadora Tonks girl. He is round-faced and chubby and constantly stepping on trick steps and walking into fake doors.
Luna Lovegood is the firmest believer that the castle has seen since her mother graduated. She is blonde-haired and bug-eyed and she spent almost the entirety of her first year sneaking into the Forbidden Forest to search for evidence of Blibbering Humdingers.
The two of them make a mismatched pair, but it’s one that works. Luna is Neville’s confidence, his ability to speak up for what he believes, and Neville is Luna’s courage, her ability to stand up for herself when no one else will. And, while it lasts, they will be happy, because, in their world of wrongs, they’ve found something that’s just right.
xvi. Above the Clouds (Harry/Ginny, 165 words, for Emily H.)
Over the summer at the Burrow, Harry and Ginny fly. Over the pond and the orchard and sometimes the clouds. It’s at these times that Harry regrets breaking it off with her the most: when it’s just him and her and the wind in their faces.
He looks over at her, and she laughs, looping around on her broomstick until it almost looks like she’s a part of some elaborate dance that no one else knows the steps to. The sunlight in her hair makes it look like molten fire, and there’s a glint of unrestrained wildness in her eyes, and Harry thinks that he almost loves her.
And so he joins the dance, and flies loops around the clouds, and when they’re too tired to carry on, he kisses her, because the cloud cover means that no one can see, and he knows that Ginny will not try to make him stay. He knows that this is one thing that he will never regret.
xvii. Rainbow-Coloured Feathers (Harry/Dobby, 150 words, for Tanya)
Dobby loves his master. Dobby would do anything for his master. It’s a well-acknowledged fact in the Potter household. Dobby does the housework, and the cooking, and when Master Harry Potter is sick, Dobby nurses him back to health.
At Christmas, Dobby puts up large baubles with Master Harry Potter’s face on them, and sparkly red tinsel and rainbow-coloured feathers. Harry smiles at them and takes down the baubles, and Dobby remembers not to put them up next year, even though he thinks his master looks so handsome on them: anything to make his master happy.
Dobby loves his master. Probably more than a house-elf should. But Dobby is good at keeping secrets, and while his master sleeps, Dobby braids the brightest feathers into Harry’s hair, and gets a good-natured laugh in the morning for his efforts, because Harry loved those feathers, and Dobby has never been happier about anything.
xviii. Unseen (Crabbe/Goyle, 138 words, for Katy)
Even Draco can’t see it. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle are boulders to everyone but each other - boulders, bodyguards, unintelligent thugs, created to obey Draco’s every whim.
Nobody sees the real Crabbe and Goyle: the selves that they hide behind façades of boorishness. Not even Draco. This is because Crabbe and Goyle are good at hiding things from other people. They have had to be good at it, because what they are doing would be unacceptable to Slytherin house.
Crabbe and Goyle think that they may well be in love, when they’re tucked into dark corners, away from the whole world’s prying eyes. And yet they also know that they must one day become servants of the Dark Lord, and Death Eaters never go against the expectations of Slytherin house. So their love remains unseen, as it should.
xix. Hogwarts (Dennis Creevey, 219 words, for Robert)
‘First-years over here!’ the large man called out, waving his lantern so that they all could see where he was. Dennis Creevey reluctantly made his way towards him after being given a push in the right direction by his brother, who was now old enough to be riding to Hogwarts in those wicked horseless carriages.
The giant - Hagrid, Colin had called him - led the group of first years to the lake, and to a little fleet of boats. Dennis sat down in one, and was quickly joined by two other boys, and one girl who smiled at him and introduced herself as Annie, and soon enough they were off.
A dark shadow moved just beneath the surface of the water, but Dennis was the only person who seemed to notice it. He squeaked and jumped, and unbalanced, toppling into the lake with a splash.
For a moment, he thought that he was going to drown, as he struggled to reach the surface and find air. But then he felt a slimy tentacle wrap around his waist and push him back into the boat.
When he reached the Great Hall, wrapped up in Hagrid’s moleskin coat, he turned to see his brother staring, gave him a thumbs up, and cheerfully mouthed, I fell in, before going up to be sorted.
xx. Heroes (Ron/Hermione, 109 words, for Kate)
The hero always gets the girl, and that’s the fact of the matter. He was a hero, and he had the girl to prove it, Harry thought as all three of them sat around a table in the Three Broomsticks, sipping at their butterbeer.
He’d saved them all countless times, the first being when they rescued the Philosopher’s Stone, sacrificing himself so that his friends could go on.
Harry smiled to himself as Ron and Hermione left, and watched Hermione stick a snowball down her boyfriend’s shirt as soon as they got outside. Yes, he thought, the hero always gets the girl, and Ron was most definitely a hero.
xxi. Take It: It’s Yours (Harry/Cedric, 114 words, for Ali)
‘Go,’ Cedric said, ‘I would have died back there if it wasn’t for you. You’ve earned it.’
Harry shook his head, and Cedric cursed his honour. ‘We’ve both helped each other out,’ he said. Even Cedric could not deny that this was true. Harry’s eyes glazed over for a moment, as if he had just had an epiphany, and he said suddenly, ‘Together. It’s still a Hogwarts victory.’
He was tempted: he truly was, but he shook his head again. ‘Take it,’ he said, ‘it’s yours.’
Harry only hesitated for a second before grabbing the Cup, and then he disappeared, presumably to the entrance to the maze. Cedric grinned, and sent up red sparks.
xxii. The Great, Omniscient Rita Skeeter (Harry/Hermione, 126 words, for Sophie C.)
Rita had always known that some day that horrid Granger girl would meet her downfall trying to romance famous wizards, and she was proven right when her photographer Bozo managed to catch a snap of her with the Boy-Who-Lived, caught in various compromising positions.
Rita herself had written the article to go with it, based on educated guesswork which she was sure had more truth in it than people gave her credit for.
And when it had hit the Prophet, and all the other reporters had something to say about the affair, Mr. Potter had just blushed and stuttered and refused to answer any questions - Miss Granger had done much the same. And she sat back and smiled to herself, because Rita, after all, knew everything.
xxiii. Everlasting Ink (Damocles Belby, 164 words, for Chloe)
A pinch of this and a pinch of that and several pages of theories on what the effects of the ingredients on the potion would be. The troubling thing, Damocles thought, was that there was no quick way to test that everlasting ink would actually work - so the whole thing was theory, and then making sure that the ingredients didn’t explode when he tried to mix them (this had happened surprisingly often during his earlier experiments, and so he had learned caution at a very young age).
Getting frustrated, he turned to set up his egg timer and cursed his clumsiness when a bottle of freshly-picked aconite fell off the shelf and into his latest mixture with a plop. Briefly, he considered vanishing the whole thing and then starting again, but instead he decided to put it aside until he had time to further investigate the new mixture. Which was a good thing, it turned out, since he had accidentally invented the Wolfsbane potion.
xxiv. Statistics (Molly Weasley, 123 words, for beetlebug13)
Every day, Molly putters around the Burrow, busying herself with whatever comes into her head. The house is silent: Arthur, Charlie, Percy and the twins are all working, Bill is off on Order business, Ginny is at school, and Harry, Ron and Hermione are too busy saving the world to even send Hedwig or Pigwidgeon once in a while.
The Weasley family clock perches innocently against the kitchen wall. Molly doesn’t look at it anymore - she doesn’t really need to. Every hand, even her own, points decisively to “Mortal Peril”, day-in, day-out. It’s a dead weight in her gut; a constant reminder that Ginny or Hermione or Arthur or any of her seven boys might be the next one who won’t come home.
xxv. Impurity (Draco/Pansy, 158 words, for Sophie D.)
Draco Malfoy is fourteen and a half years old and he can trace his family tree back three centuries. His blood is as pure as pure can be, and if there was ever a muggle or squib in his family, then the abomination has been well-hidden, as foul family secrets should be.
Pansy Parkinson is almost fifteen years old, and can’t trace her family tree back further than her great-great-grandparents without finding muggle blood in there somewhere. The fact makes her feel filthy - as if she’s somehow pretending to be more than she is even by merely being accepted in Slytherin.
She makes up for it with a tongue that drips with poison and an unbeatable devotion to Draco Malfoy, ruler of Slytherin House. And when their first child, Lucius Draconis Malfoy II is born, Pansy feels a strange mixture of love and guilt, because she knows that she has tainted the blood of the Malfoy line irreparably.
xxvi. B Flat Major (Harry/Fat Lady, 129 words, for Izzy)
In the mornings, Harry makes his way out of the Gryffindor portrait hole and down to the Great Hall for breakfast. On his way, he spares a brief smile for the Fat Lady of Gryffindor, because that’s just the way he is.
She’s developed a habit of chattering to him whenever she sees him alone. She tells him about all her friend Violet’s latest gossip, and about her latest attempts to serenade the other portraits in b flat major. Harry stands before her, and provides an ear, because, he thinks, guarding Gryffindor Tower must be a lonely job.
And in the evenings, after his friends have gone to bed, Harry creeps out of the portrait hole and sits down before it, and he listens to the Fat Lady sing.
xxvii. Erised (Ron/Hermione, 180 words, for Alex B.)
Ron never wondered what had happened to it afterwards. He supposed that he had assumed that the mirror had been destroyed, like the Stone. And after sacrificing himself so that Harry and Hermione could go on, and then seeing Harry bruised and bleeding in the Hospital Wing, the fate of the Mirror of Erised had faded into insignificance.
But never in his wildest imaginings had he suspected that he would find it here, hidden away deep in the Burrow’s attic, where no one ever looked. For a moment, he considered turning away, but then he moved forward and stood in front of its surface, rubbing dust away with his sleeve.
A picture formed in front of his eyes, but it wasn’t what he expected. He was in the attic, looking exactly as he did when he looked in normal mirrors. Harry leant against the doorframe, observing him silently, and Hermione approached and placed one hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek.
He turned and met her eyes. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘you need to get changed for the wedding.’
xxviii. Chalk and Charcoal (Ginny/Dean, 203 words, for emayo)
Dean Thomas fell in love with Ginevra Weasley in his fourth year, when he saw her dancing with Neville Longbottom at the Yule Ball. The only think he really regretted that about that night - apart from going at all - was not asking her for a dance. That evening, he had stayed up all night and by wand-light he had sketched a picture of her in her dress robes, nursing her sore toes.
In his fifth year, the other boys began to notice her, too. She dated Michael Corner for a while, and then turned her attentions elsewhere. Dean drew her in pastels, the way she had looked at the first DA meeting he’d attended, and he did a blurry sketch of a dream he’d had in chalk and charcoal, with Ginny wrapped in his arms.
At the end of the year, having deliberately chosen a time when Ron and Harry were out of the dorms, she lay next to him on his bed and rested her head on one hand as she examined the various pictures. ‘This one’s my favourite,’ she said, pointing at the chalk-and-charcoal piece.
Dean smiled and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Then keep it,’ he said, and she did.
xxix. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (Lily/James, 154 words, for Alice)
In the Christmas of 1977, Albus Dumbledore - the esteemed and slightly insane Headmaster of Hogwarts - had an idea. It may have been a good idea, but it was also very unpopular in the upper years, and especially with the seventh year Gryffindor boys, who lived and survived under the fist of Sirius Black, who was entirely too enthusiastic about these kind of things.
Which is why Christmas Eve found James Potter reluctantly descending the stairs to the Entrance Hall in a reindeer costume. He earned a few snickers from various people around the Hall, most notably his fellow Marauders, and then he was approached by a figure in a Father Christmas costume, complete with a magically grown white beard. ‘Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you drive my sleigh tonight?’ the figure asked, and James squinted.
‘L-lily?’ he stuttered in surprise.
Lily Evans grinned, saying, ‘Come on,’ and taking him by the hand.
xxx. Yule (Neville/Ginny, 181 words, for sister_stick)
When Ginny Weasley was ten, she heard stories of Harry Potter and fell in love. She lived in a faraway land of fairytales and pink castles and princesses locked in towers and hearts which never broke. And she liked this world, because it constantly reminded her that one day, surely, Harry would come to the Burrow and he would love her too. Because that was the way fairytales worked.
When she was fourteen, she was a little bit wiser. She had cottoned on to the fact that Harry saw her as his best friend’s little sister, and though it almost broke her heart, she accepted the fact. And so, when Neville Longbottom asked her to the Yule Ball, she said yes.
Neville was clumsy and he stepped on her feet a lot, but he was also kind and considerate, and he was really fun once you got past the shyness. Ginny found that she didn’t mind spending that evening with him at all. She minded even less when, five years afterwards, he asked her to spend every other with him, too.
xxxi. Neverland (Ron/Hermione, 132 words, for Amy)
Hermione had always believed in magic, even before the letter came. It seemed illogical to her friends, but for her it was a way of explaining anything that couldn’t be explained otherwise.
This was also because she had been raised on fairytales. Stories like Jack and the Beanstalk and The Chronicles of Narnia. Peter Pan was her favourite.
Most nights, when it wasn’t too cold, she’d leave her bedroom window open, and hope that Peter might come for her, and it was always a bitter disappointment when she woke and found that it was morning and nothing had happened.
But once she was seventeen, and integrated into magical society completely, she found that Peter didn’t need to come to her, because when Ron took her hand, she found herself in Neverland anyway.
xxxii. Cold Comfort (Harry/Hermione, 97 words, for Gabby)
‘I’m sure he’s happy,’ Ron says, ‘wherever he is now.’ Hermione looks up and meets his eyes.
It’s not that she thinks that Harry’s suffering, or anything. She just misses him, and whether or not he’s happy can’t really change that.
Hermione thinks that she may have been in love with him, before he threw everything into his fight with Voldemort and then died of magical exhaustion. She still has Ron, but he doesn’t understand. He can’t understand. ‘He’s with his parents now,’ Ron tells her quietly. ‘And with Sirius.’
Hermione thinks that this is cold comfort.
xxxiii. No Place Like Home (Harry/Ginny, 108 words, for Sophie T.)
‘Alohomora,’ he said, and the door swung open with a soft click and then a squeak. His footsteps were muffled by the fluffy carpet, and the house was silent apart from the quiet ticking of the clock.
Glancing at it, he can see that it is just past dawn. Ginny will be waking soon, to get ready for Auror training, but for now she will be safe in bed, her covers warding away the morning’s chill.
He pads towards her bedroom door and inches it open, and then places a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flicker open. ‘Harry?’ she asks.
‘I’m home,’ he says, and kisses her.
Part 2 is here.
Please note, for archiving reasons (not that I actually think anyone will want to archive these): These drabbles are Christmas presents, and as such, they do not belong to me. If you want to archive them, then please ask permission from whoever it was written for. Thank you.
Finally, I think that it is only proper to quote Mark Twain before moving on to the drabbles: "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot."
i. Table Set for Two (Cedric/Hermione, 145 words, for Jess)
Hermione remembers her fourth year. She remembers Viktor and Phlegm and of course she remembers Harry, and she remembers the tournament. Most of all from that year, Hermione remembers Cedric Diggory.
She remembers the way that his smile lit up his whole face, the shine in his eyes when he talked to her. The way he looked in black and yellow.
She remembers promises they made to each other - impossible promises, which had once seemed within reach. She remembers talks in the library; annoyance when he asked Cho Chang to the Ball, and immediate acceptance with a sugary smile when Viktor asked her.
They had had something, she knew. Something special. And now that she’s left school and the war’s over, Harry and Ron are sharing a flat a few blocks away, and Hermione’s not expecting guests for dinner, but her table’s set for two.
ii. Fly the Coop (Aly/Nawat, 145 words, for [YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOUR NAME!!!])
When Kyprioth came to the crows, they were surprised that he asked them to protect a lauarin foreigner. They didn’t understand it at all. Except Nawat.
Nawat had always been somewhat of an oddball: he was far too fascinated by humans for his flock’s taste. And Nawat was especially drawn by Aly Homewood.
He liked the way the sun glittered in her hair, and he liked the way her teeth sparkled like miniature pearls. He liked her mind, as well: he liked how she could understand him, even without speaking his language; he liked how she spoke back to the god, whilst never questioning why she was here; he liked her cleverness, and the protection it gave to the twice-royal.
And so, eventually, he grew tired of watching her and communicating without words: Nawat the crow became Nawat Crow the crow-who-turned-into-a-human, and Aly loved him.
iii. The Last Horcrux (Harry/Myrtle, 153 words, for Sheri)
Somewhere in-between his sixteenth and seventeenth years, Harry Potter died. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened - he knew only that he had been alive, and now he was not.
And it had taken him quite a while to realise the fact. Ron and Hermione would stare at him sadly and try not to cry, and it was only when they finally managed to kill Voldemort that he managed to figure out why. Because Harry had been the last Horcrux, and Voldemort could not possibly die unless he had, too.
Haunting his best friends lost its novelty after a while, especially with the media hounding all three of them, and somehow managing to find all sorts of embarrassing photographs (Harry was tempted to blame Colin and Dennis Creevey for that, though).
"If you die down there, you're welcome to share my toilet," Myrtle had told him in second year. So he did.
iv. Can't Stop But- (Harry/Hermione, 163 words, for Oli)
Hermione can't stop moving. One foot falls, and then the next, and she's still moving - following Harry, and Ron's following her. In July they're in Ottery St. Catchpole, and by August they've moved out of Devon and they're almost at Bristol.
As summer turns into autumn, they move slowly northwards. Ron loudly claims that he wishes they could apparate, but he doesn't have his licence, and she doesn't have enough strength to take both him and Harry Side-Along. And besides, apparating makes Harry feel slightly claustrophobic.
They spend Christmastime in Middlesbrough, and while Ron's out searching for firewood and she and Harry are supposed to be setting up the tent, she kisses Harry for the first time. Ron is surprisingly accepting when he returns to find the reason why the tent's not even out of its bag.
They set off again in the morning, heading towards Newcastle upon Tyne. Hermione knows that she can't stop moving, but she's at home in Harry's arms.
v. A Curious Correspondence (Draco/Minerva, 118 words, for Laura)
Date: 29-06-1992
To: snape@hogwarts.edu.uk
From: lucius@malfoy.wiz
Subject: RE:
I am deeply shocked, Severus, that you would suggest such a thing of Draco. As you are well aware, my son is no less than an exemplary student - some of yours (Mr. Nott and Miss Parkinson, to name a few), would do well to follow his example.
I can assure you that Draco's abilities as a Transfiguration student are admirable, as I personally tutored him in the subject before he began to attend Hogwarts. It is absurd to think that his exam results had anything to do with a torrid affair with Professor McGonagall, and I would thank you not to bring the subject up again.
Sincerely,
Lucius Malfoy
vi. The Pimp Cane Cometh (Harry/Ron, 71 words, for Lydia)
Harry and Ron are gay for each other, and here’s the evidence.
MALFOY SR: Observe the pimp cane, yo, as I poke it into your chin.
HARRY: *Stares*
MALFOY JR: *Sniggers*
MALFOY SR: *Is visibly disappointed at HARRY’s lack of reaction*
MALFOYS: *Disappear*
HERMIONE: Do you realise that Mr. Malfoy was hitting on you, Harry?
HARRY: *Blinks*
HERMIONE: *Rolls eyes* Boys *Leaves*
RON: *Has really, really red ears* *Fumes*
ALL: *Exits*
vii. Rain (Harry/Cedric, 192 words, for mara_202)
It didn’t rain on the day. It didn’t rain, even though everyone at the funeral knew it should be, and Harry knew it too.
Harry had demanded to come. Paying his respects was the only thing that he could do for Cedric now, after all. And maybe he could one day kill the bastard who’d done this.
As the coffin was lowered into the grave by some kind of machine, he stared, a sharp buzzing void filling his ears and drowning out the false lamentations of the Muggle priest who was delivering the obituary. Harry knew that the skies ought to be screaming at this sudden, unjust loss of a boy who had shone like a beacon - a symbol of all that was right and good in their world.
He shook his head and the priest finished, glancing nervously at the clouds and then hurrying away. But Harry stayed until everyone else had gone, and crouched down in front of the grave.
He grasped a handful of earth and held it tightly in his fist, kneeling. ‘Goodbye, Cedric,’ he said, and when he kissed his fist, the heavens opened and it poured.
viii. How to be Dead (Harry/Myrtle, 76 words, for Vicky H.)
Myrtle’s To-Do List:
1. Cry
2. Haunt Olive Hornby
3. Avoid malicious book-throwing Weasleys
4. Check prefect’s bathroom for cute boys
5. Avoid being flushed down the toilet
6. If above fails, find way to the lake, and converse with the giant squid
7. Convince Harry to come and visit
8. Convince Harry to come and share my toilet
9. Spy on Harry in the bath
10. Have Harry killed (& hope he becomes a ghost)
ix. Yesterday My Brain Exploded (Ron/Hermione, 135 words, for Zsuzsa)
I think the world may have stopped spinning yesterday. Either that, or hell froze over. Ron Weasley, prat extraordinaire, was nice. And charming.
He offered to carry my books to Charms for me, because I was “carrying far too much already”. And then he smiled, and Harry’s eyebrows were somewhere near Jupiter. As were my own.
This is very, very out of character. Must investigate cases of temporary insanity in sixteen-year-old Hogwarts males (symptoms include: offering to carry geeky best friend’s books to Charms, &c).
Luna thinks he may have been sorry for taking me for granted since first year. However, I believe it is more likely that I was suffering from overwork and hallucinated the entire encounter. The only thing that happened yesterday was my brain exploding. And I dare you to contradict me.
x. Letters (Hedwig/Hermes, 147 words, for Frosty)
‘Another letter from Percy?’ Harry asked dubiously, looking up from his letter and seeing Hermes perched on the windowsill.
Ron shook his head. ‘Nope. The prat hasn’t bothered contacting me since that last letter.’ Harry knew the one.
The owl only stopped there for a moment, though, and then fluttered away, presumably to the owlery. Ron returned to his Potions essay, and Harry brought his attention back to his letter to Lupin.
When he’d finished, he trudged up to the owlery, hoping to find one of the school owls, since Hedwig couldn’t exactly leave her chicks for too long at the moment.
He paused. Hermes preened Hedwig’s feathers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Harry raised an eyebrow and Hedwig gave him a reproaching look.
He shrugged. ‘Better him that Pig, I guess,’ he said, and then left without sending his letter.
xi. Drowning (Sirius/Remus, 125 words, for norweigianridge)
Sirius thinks that Remus might be more than a little bit insane. Remus stares and stares and stares, and generally does little else. Except maybe reading.
When Sirius catches him staring, he blushes and turns away after offering a small, embarrassed smile. Sirius used to wonder why, but Peter - the perceptive one - told him straight-out as soon as he bothered to ask. Remus fancies Sirius, and Sirius thinks it might be driving Remus crazy.
Because Remus doesn’t get his homework in on time anymore. He’s stopped asking for extra credit essays because he doesn’t have the time. He hardly even objects to vicious pranks these days.
And while Sirius wonders, Remus drowns in his grey eyes, and wonders if he’ll ever remember how to swim.
xii. Oddity (Harry/Luna, 266 words, for Naomi)
28-08-1996: Dear Diary,
Daddy and I came back from Sweden last night. We didn’t manage to find any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks this time, but we’re going to be going back next summer - and we did manage to find some genuine-looking footprints!
I have three days left of the holidays to finish all my summer homework, and then I’ll be going back to Hogwarts. It’ll be difficult, but I’m sure I’ll manage somehow: it helps that I started most of my essays before we left.
In other news, a pack of blibbering humdingers has moved into the back garden. There are five adults, and three little ones, and yesterday I even managed to get close enough to stroke one of them. Daddy says he doesn’t know why most people can’t see them, but it probably has something to do with truly believing that they exist.
Three letters arrived this morning: one from Neville Longbottom, one from Ginny Weasley, and one from Harry Potter. You remember that I told you about them last term, Diary, don’t you? Ginny and Neville are going to save a seat for me on the train, and they were both very sorry that I couldn’t meet them at Diagon Alley. Harry asked if I managed to find any “Snore-cats”. He wanted to talk about the Black Veil as well - his godfather fell through it: did I tell you that before? Anyway, he seemed very sad. I hope I will be able to talk more about it soon, since last time he looked a little happier by the end of our chat.
More later,
Luna Lovegood
xiii. In the Shadows (Harry/Voldemort, 114 words, for Street)
Harry curled up beside the throne. The Dark Lord Voldemort - his supreme evilness - fingered his wand, listening in silence to Draco Malfoy’s most recent feeble excuse for failure. This time, it involved a candlestick, Pansy Parkinson, a hole in the ground, and a Hippogriff.
‘Crucio,’ Lord Voldemort hissed as soon as the git stopped snivelling. Malfoy screamed, and Harry allowed himself a moment of savage joy at the noise he made.
After his brief torture session, Malfoy was dismissed, and he left as if a hellhound were on his tail. Harry giggled at the scene. Lord Voldemort curled his spidery fingers through Harry’s hair.
‘Quiet, pet,’ he said, and the room was silent again.
xiv. Homophobia (Harry/Blaise, 93 words, for herald_mage)
Homophobia. The word sounds beautiful as it rolls from Blaise’s tongue, like music to Harry’s ears. It feels wonderful on his own tongue, too, and he doesn’t quite know why.
Such a beautiful word: such an ugly concept. Harry loves Blaise more than he’s ever loved anyone, and it scares him that someone could fear him because of that. Harry wonders why people feel the need to make ugly things beautiful with long, pretty words.
Because homophobia is what lost him Ron, and that hurts Harry more than he thought anything ever could.
xv. Mismatched (Neville/Luna, 139 words, for Ellie)
Neville Longbottom is quite possibly the clumsiest person ever to pass through Hogwarts - excluding that Nymphadora Tonks girl. He is round-faced and chubby and constantly stepping on trick steps and walking into fake doors.
Luna Lovegood is the firmest believer that the castle has seen since her mother graduated. She is blonde-haired and bug-eyed and she spent almost the entirety of her first year sneaking into the Forbidden Forest to search for evidence of Blibbering Humdingers.
The two of them make a mismatched pair, but it’s one that works. Luna is Neville’s confidence, his ability to speak up for what he believes, and Neville is Luna’s courage, her ability to stand up for herself when no one else will. And, while it lasts, they will be happy, because, in their world of wrongs, they’ve found something that’s just right.
xvi. Above the Clouds (Harry/Ginny, 165 words, for Emily H.)
Over the summer at the Burrow, Harry and Ginny fly. Over the pond and the orchard and sometimes the clouds. It’s at these times that Harry regrets breaking it off with her the most: when it’s just him and her and the wind in their faces.
He looks over at her, and she laughs, looping around on her broomstick until it almost looks like she’s a part of some elaborate dance that no one else knows the steps to. The sunlight in her hair makes it look like molten fire, and there’s a glint of unrestrained wildness in her eyes, and Harry thinks that he almost loves her.
And so he joins the dance, and flies loops around the clouds, and when they’re too tired to carry on, he kisses her, because the cloud cover means that no one can see, and he knows that Ginny will not try to make him stay. He knows that this is one thing that he will never regret.
xvii. Rainbow-Coloured Feathers (Harry/Dobby, 150 words, for Tanya)
Dobby loves his master. Dobby would do anything for his master. It’s a well-acknowledged fact in the Potter household. Dobby does the housework, and the cooking, and when Master Harry Potter is sick, Dobby nurses him back to health.
At Christmas, Dobby puts up large baubles with Master Harry Potter’s face on them, and sparkly red tinsel and rainbow-coloured feathers. Harry smiles at them and takes down the baubles, and Dobby remembers not to put them up next year, even though he thinks his master looks so handsome on them: anything to make his master happy.
Dobby loves his master. Probably more than a house-elf should. But Dobby is good at keeping secrets, and while his master sleeps, Dobby braids the brightest feathers into Harry’s hair, and gets a good-natured laugh in the morning for his efforts, because Harry loved those feathers, and Dobby has never been happier about anything.
xviii. Unseen (Crabbe/Goyle, 138 words, for Katy)
Even Draco can’t see it. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle are boulders to everyone but each other - boulders, bodyguards, unintelligent thugs, created to obey Draco’s every whim.
Nobody sees the real Crabbe and Goyle: the selves that they hide behind façades of boorishness. Not even Draco. This is because Crabbe and Goyle are good at hiding things from other people. They have had to be good at it, because what they are doing would be unacceptable to Slytherin house.
Crabbe and Goyle think that they may well be in love, when they’re tucked into dark corners, away from the whole world’s prying eyes. And yet they also know that they must one day become servants of the Dark Lord, and Death Eaters never go against the expectations of Slytherin house. So their love remains unseen, as it should.
xix. Hogwarts (Dennis Creevey, 219 words, for Robert)
‘First-years over here!’ the large man called out, waving his lantern so that they all could see where he was. Dennis Creevey reluctantly made his way towards him after being given a push in the right direction by his brother, who was now old enough to be riding to Hogwarts in those wicked horseless carriages.
The giant - Hagrid, Colin had called him - led the group of first years to the lake, and to a little fleet of boats. Dennis sat down in one, and was quickly joined by two other boys, and one girl who smiled at him and introduced herself as Annie, and soon enough they were off.
A dark shadow moved just beneath the surface of the water, but Dennis was the only person who seemed to notice it. He squeaked and jumped, and unbalanced, toppling into the lake with a splash.
For a moment, he thought that he was going to drown, as he struggled to reach the surface and find air. But then he felt a slimy tentacle wrap around his waist and push him back into the boat.
When he reached the Great Hall, wrapped up in Hagrid’s moleskin coat, he turned to see his brother staring, gave him a thumbs up, and cheerfully mouthed, I fell in, before going up to be sorted.
xx. Heroes (Ron/Hermione, 109 words, for Kate)
The hero always gets the girl, and that’s the fact of the matter. He was a hero, and he had the girl to prove it, Harry thought as all three of them sat around a table in the Three Broomsticks, sipping at their butterbeer.
He’d saved them all countless times, the first being when they rescued the Philosopher’s Stone, sacrificing himself so that his friends could go on.
Harry smiled to himself as Ron and Hermione left, and watched Hermione stick a snowball down her boyfriend’s shirt as soon as they got outside. Yes, he thought, the hero always gets the girl, and Ron was most definitely a hero.
xxi. Take It: It’s Yours (Harry/Cedric, 114 words, for Ali)
‘Go,’ Cedric said, ‘I would have died back there if it wasn’t for you. You’ve earned it.’
Harry shook his head, and Cedric cursed his honour. ‘We’ve both helped each other out,’ he said. Even Cedric could not deny that this was true. Harry’s eyes glazed over for a moment, as if he had just had an epiphany, and he said suddenly, ‘Together. It’s still a Hogwarts victory.’
He was tempted: he truly was, but he shook his head again. ‘Take it,’ he said, ‘it’s yours.’
Harry only hesitated for a second before grabbing the Cup, and then he disappeared, presumably to the entrance to the maze. Cedric grinned, and sent up red sparks.
xxii. The Great, Omniscient Rita Skeeter (Harry/Hermione, 126 words, for Sophie C.)
Rita had always known that some day that horrid Granger girl would meet her downfall trying to romance famous wizards, and she was proven right when her photographer Bozo managed to catch a snap of her with the Boy-Who-Lived, caught in various compromising positions.
Rita herself had written the article to go with it, based on educated guesswork which she was sure had more truth in it than people gave her credit for.
And when it had hit the Prophet, and all the other reporters had something to say about the affair, Mr. Potter had just blushed and stuttered and refused to answer any questions - Miss Granger had done much the same. And she sat back and smiled to herself, because Rita, after all, knew everything.
xxiii. Everlasting Ink (Damocles Belby, 164 words, for Chloe)
A pinch of this and a pinch of that and several pages of theories on what the effects of the ingredients on the potion would be. The troubling thing, Damocles thought, was that there was no quick way to test that everlasting ink would actually work - so the whole thing was theory, and then making sure that the ingredients didn’t explode when he tried to mix them (this had happened surprisingly often during his earlier experiments, and so he had learned caution at a very young age).
Getting frustrated, he turned to set up his egg timer and cursed his clumsiness when a bottle of freshly-picked aconite fell off the shelf and into his latest mixture with a plop. Briefly, he considered vanishing the whole thing and then starting again, but instead he decided to put it aside until he had time to further investigate the new mixture. Which was a good thing, it turned out, since he had accidentally invented the Wolfsbane potion.
xxiv. Statistics (Molly Weasley, 123 words, for beetlebug13)
Every day, Molly putters around the Burrow, busying herself with whatever comes into her head. The house is silent: Arthur, Charlie, Percy and the twins are all working, Bill is off on Order business, Ginny is at school, and Harry, Ron and Hermione are too busy saving the world to even send Hedwig or Pigwidgeon once in a while.
The Weasley family clock perches innocently against the kitchen wall. Molly doesn’t look at it anymore - she doesn’t really need to. Every hand, even her own, points decisively to “Mortal Peril”, day-in, day-out. It’s a dead weight in her gut; a constant reminder that Ginny or Hermione or Arthur or any of her seven boys might be the next one who won’t come home.
xxv. Impurity (Draco/Pansy, 158 words, for Sophie D.)
Draco Malfoy is fourteen and a half years old and he can trace his family tree back three centuries. His blood is as pure as pure can be, and if there was ever a muggle or squib in his family, then the abomination has been well-hidden, as foul family secrets should be.
Pansy Parkinson is almost fifteen years old, and can’t trace her family tree back further than her great-great-grandparents without finding muggle blood in there somewhere. The fact makes her feel filthy - as if she’s somehow pretending to be more than she is even by merely being accepted in Slytherin.
She makes up for it with a tongue that drips with poison and an unbeatable devotion to Draco Malfoy, ruler of Slytherin House. And when their first child, Lucius Draconis Malfoy II is born, Pansy feels a strange mixture of love and guilt, because she knows that she has tainted the blood of the Malfoy line irreparably.
xxvi. B Flat Major (Harry/Fat Lady, 129 words, for Izzy)
In the mornings, Harry makes his way out of the Gryffindor portrait hole and down to the Great Hall for breakfast. On his way, he spares a brief smile for the Fat Lady of Gryffindor, because that’s just the way he is.
She’s developed a habit of chattering to him whenever she sees him alone. She tells him about all her friend Violet’s latest gossip, and about her latest attempts to serenade the other portraits in b flat major. Harry stands before her, and provides an ear, because, he thinks, guarding Gryffindor Tower must be a lonely job.
And in the evenings, after his friends have gone to bed, Harry creeps out of the portrait hole and sits down before it, and he listens to the Fat Lady sing.
xxvii. Erised (Ron/Hermione, 180 words, for Alex B.)
Ron never wondered what had happened to it afterwards. He supposed that he had assumed that the mirror had been destroyed, like the Stone. And after sacrificing himself so that Harry and Hermione could go on, and then seeing Harry bruised and bleeding in the Hospital Wing, the fate of the Mirror of Erised had faded into insignificance.
But never in his wildest imaginings had he suspected that he would find it here, hidden away deep in the Burrow’s attic, where no one ever looked. For a moment, he considered turning away, but then he moved forward and stood in front of its surface, rubbing dust away with his sleeve.
A picture formed in front of his eyes, but it wasn’t what he expected. He was in the attic, looking exactly as he did when he looked in normal mirrors. Harry leant against the doorframe, observing him silently, and Hermione approached and placed one hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek.
He turned and met her eyes. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘you need to get changed for the wedding.’
xxviii. Chalk and Charcoal (Ginny/Dean, 203 words, for emayo)
Dean Thomas fell in love with Ginevra Weasley in his fourth year, when he saw her dancing with Neville Longbottom at the Yule Ball. The only think he really regretted that about that night - apart from going at all - was not asking her for a dance. That evening, he had stayed up all night and by wand-light he had sketched a picture of her in her dress robes, nursing her sore toes.
In his fifth year, the other boys began to notice her, too. She dated Michael Corner for a while, and then turned her attentions elsewhere. Dean drew her in pastels, the way she had looked at the first DA meeting he’d attended, and he did a blurry sketch of a dream he’d had in chalk and charcoal, with Ginny wrapped in his arms.
At the end of the year, having deliberately chosen a time when Ron and Harry were out of the dorms, she lay next to him on his bed and rested her head on one hand as she examined the various pictures. ‘This one’s my favourite,’ she said, pointing at the chalk-and-charcoal piece.
Dean smiled and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Then keep it,’ he said, and she did.
xxix. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (Lily/James, 154 words, for Alice)
In the Christmas of 1977, Albus Dumbledore - the esteemed and slightly insane Headmaster of Hogwarts - had an idea. It may have been a good idea, but it was also very unpopular in the upper years, and especially with the seventh year Gryffindor boys, who lived and survived under the fist of Sirius Black, who was entirely too enthusiastic about these kind of things.
Which is why Christmas Eve found James Potter reluctantly descending the stairs to the Entrance Hall in a reindeer costume. He earned a few snickers from various people around the Hall, most notably his fellow Marauders, and then he was approached by a figure in a Father Christmas costume, complete with a magically grown white beard. ‘Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you drive my sleigh tonight?’ the figure asked, and James squinted.
‘L-lily?’ he stuttered in surprise.
Lily Evans grinned, saying, ‘Come on,’ and taking him by the hand.
xxx. Yule (Neville/Ginny, 181 words, for sister_stick)
When Ginny Weasley was ten, she heard stories of Harry Potter and fell in love. She lived in a faraway land of fairytales and pink castles and princesses locked in towers and hearts which never broke. And she liked this world, because it constantly reminded her that one day, surely, Harry would come to the Burrow and he would love her too. Because that was the way fairytales worked.
When she was fourteen, she was a little bit wiser. She had cottoned on to the fact that Harry saw her as his best friend’s little sister, and though it almost broke her heart, she accepted the fact. And so, when Neville Longbottom asked her to the Yule Ball, she said yes.
Neville was clumsy and he stepped on her feet a lot, but he was also kind and considerate, and he was really fun once you got past the shyness. Ginny found that she didn’t mind spending that evening with him at all. She minded even less when, five years afterwards, he asked her to spend every other with him, too.
xxxi. Neverland (Ron/Hermione, 132 words, for Amy)
Hermione had always believed in magic, even before the letter came. It seemed illogical to her friends, but for her it was a way of explaining anything that couldn’t be explained otherwise.
This was also because she had been raised on fairytales. Stories like Jack and the Beanstalk and The Chronicles of Narnia. Peter Pan was her favourite.
Most nights, when it wasn’t too cold, she’d leave her bedroom window open, and hope that Peter might come for her, and it was always a bitter disappointment when she woke and found that it was morning and nothing had happened.
But once she was seventeen, and integrated into magical society completely, she found that Peter didn’t need to come to her, because when Ron took her hand, she found herself in Neverland anyway.
xxxii. Cold Comfort (Harry/Hermione, 97 words, for Gabby)
‘I’m sure he’s happy,’ Ron says, ‘wherever he is now.’ Hermione looks up and meets his eyes.
It’s not that she thinks that Harry’s suffering, or anything. She just misses him, and whether or not he’s happy can’t really change that.
Hermione thinks that she may have been in love with him, before he threw everything into his fight with Voldemort and then died of magical exhaustion. She still has Ron, but he doesn’t understand. He can’t understand. ‘He’s with his parents now,’ Ron tells her quietly. ‘And with Sirius.’
Hermione thinks that this is cold comfort.
xxxiii. No Place Like Home (Harry/Ginny, 108 words, for Sophie T.)
‘Alohomora,’ he said, and the door swung open with a soft click and then a squeak. His footsteps were muffled by the fluffy carpet, and the house was silent apart from the quiet ticking of the clock.
Glancing at it, he can see that it is just past dawn. Ginny will be waking soon, to get ready for Auror training, but for now she will be safe in bed, her covers warding away the morning’s chill.
He pads towards her bedroom door and inches it open, and then places a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flicker open. ‘Harry?’ she asks.
‘I’m home,’ he says, and kisses her.
Part 2 is here.