Stupid Question (Response to a writing prompt found on Pinterest)

“There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” Hermione declared.

“What’s in mango salsa?” Harry asked innocently.

“I stand corrected.”

Ron snorted.  “Finally, someone stumped Hermione.”

“Nobody asked you, Ronald!”

“I never thought I’d see the day…”

“You’re not helping, Ronald!”

“Sure I am!  I’m helping Harry.”

“Helping him do what, sound like a bigger idiot than you usually do?”

“I do not sound like an idiot!”

“Only when you open your mouth…”

“Alright, children, settle down!  If you can’t play nice, I’ll have to send you to your rooms,” Harry interjected, trying not to laugh.

“Seeing as how we share a room, that wouldn’t be so bad,” Ron commented, leering at Hermione, who just rolled her eyes.

“See what I have to live with, Harry?  How did you stand it for six years?”

“Well, there were three other boys in the room as well, so that helped.  I didn’t have to put up with him all by myself.”

“Well, that solution’s right out,” Hermione decided.  “Any other suggestions?”

“Ear plugs?”

“Oi!”

“Silencing Charm?”

“I’m right here!”

“Lock him out of your room when he gets too annoying?  He still seems to have trouble getting past Colloportus.”

Hermione doubled over with laughter as Ron sputtered indignantly beside them.

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Ron’s Bad Day (Response to a writing prompt found on Pinterest)

“Damn, damn, double damn, three bloody hells and a bugger!”

“Problems, Ron?”  Harry didn’t even bother looking up from his paperwork; Ron seemed to have a meltdown at least twice a week lately, and the novelty had worn off long ago.

“That bloody idiot standing in for Kingsley while he’s in Egypt, or should I say sitting in, because he doesn’t seem to know how to do anything else but sit behind Kingsley’s desk and drink firewhiskey,” Ron groused.  “At least Kingsley bothers to read our reports before telling us whether our ideas will work or not.  I’m not sure that moron even knows how to read.”

“Tell us how you really feel, Weasel,” Draco drawled, striding over to his desk and slumping into his chair.  He looked exhausted, as though he’d pulled another all-nighter.

“Nobody asked you, ferret,” Ron retorted irritably.

“Now children, behave yourselves,” Harry interjected.  He tossed Draco a Pepper-Up Potion, which Draco caught without even looking and downed in one gulp.  Harry then tossed a Calming Potion to Ron.  “Here, drink this, catch your breath, and let me finish my paperwork, then we’ll all go to the Leaky Cauldron for a pint.”

“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Draco said.  “Bugger, I’m tired.  I don’t think I’ve slept in the last three days.”

“That will teach you to go off by yourself on assignments, instead of waiting for one of us to be free to go with you,” Harry scolded his friend.  “What you need is to go home and sleep for about three days.  Don’t worry about that git in Kingsley’s office, I’ll take care of him.  You just catch up on your sleep.  You’re no good to anyone if you’re not well-rested, and I’ll be sure to tell him that when he objects.  Okay, I’m done, let’s go.”  Harry closed his folder, stowed everything in his desk and locked it, then rose and led the way out of the office.  “First round’s on me.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Ron said, right behind Harry.

“The second round’s on Draco.”

“Hey!”

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Quirky and Fun (Original idea set in the Potterverse)

“Why do I put up with you again?” Draco complained, arms full of shopping bags, wishing he could shrink them all and put them in his pocket.  Unfortunately, they were in Muggle London and he couldn’t risk being noticed.

“Because you love me,” Luna replied, happily skipping ahead of him, stopping every couple minutes to look in shop windows.  Harrod’s was her favorite Muggle shop, of course, but there were so many others…

“Ooh, that’s pretty,” she exclaimed, staring in the window of a jewelry store at the array of rings on display.

Draco groaned.  “And why is that, again?”

“Because I’m quirky and fun, and I have a unique outlook on life and the world around me,” Luna answered calmly.

“Some days it’s just not worth it,” Draco muttered.

“Don’t be silly, Dray, you’re just tired,” Luna scolded.  “After this, we’ll go get something to eat, and you can rest for a while,” she assured him, then opened the door of the shop and stepped inside.  “Hello, you have such lovely rings…”

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Plan? What Plan? (Response to a writing prompt found on Pinterest)

“Well someone thought it would be a good idea to throw our backup plan off a bridge.”  Hermione looked extremely put out.

“It was on fire!” Ron protested.

“And you’re a wizard!  You don’t know how to use Aguamenti to put a fire out?” Hermione retorted, exasperated.

“Oh, right.  I didn’t think about that.” Ron said sheepishly.

Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes at each other.  “Gee, where have I heard that before,” Hermione said.

“Well you were the one who forgot she was a witch at the end of our first year, and thought she needed wood to start a fire,” Ron reminded her.  Harry laughed, and Hermione shot both of them a nasty look.

“Who’s the one who forgot he was a wizard and stuck his wand up a troll’s nose, instead of using it to cast the Levitation Charm on it?” Hermione shot back.

Harry grinned.  “Yeah, I panicked for a minute,” he admitted.  “I saw a friend in trouble, and I couldn’t think straight, so I just did the first thing that came to mind, which was jumping on the troll’s back.  I totally forgot I even had my wand in my hand, till it went up the troll’s nose, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“What a bunch of misfits we are,” Hermione said, grinning.

“Hey, that’d be a cool name for us, the Misfits!” Ron said.

“I guess it’s better than calling ourselves the Next Generation of Marauders,” Harry agreed.  “Sounds too much like a Star Trek series.”

“What’s Star Trek?” Ron asked.

Harry and Hermione exchanged grins.  “Looks like we need to introduce Ron to the joys of sci-fi,” Harry said.

“You grab the videos, I’ll make the popcorn,” Hermione said, heading for the kitchen.

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One More Time… (Original idea set in the Potterverse)

Agilbert Fontaine, headmaster of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, looked over the list of incoming students and sighed heavily.  While he loved seeing all the bright young faces at the beginning of every year, he was becoming weary of his administrative duties.  He missed the days when he taught the students; seeing the looks on their faces as they grasped the concepts and mastered the spells.  He would gladly go back to teaching if he could.

Maybe it was time to name his successor, so he could go back to doing what he loved best, teaching.  Or maybe he should just retire, so he could spend his days in reading and research, or traveling the world just for the fun of it.  Scotland was supposed to be lovely this time of year… .  Oh, well.  One day, maybe…

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No Time To Feel Guilty (Response to a writing prompt found on Pinterest)

“Do you feel guilty?  Like, at all?”

“I don’t have time to feel guilty.  And neither do you.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t anyway.  What you did, Harry—”

“Was necessary, however painful it may have been for me at the time.  I’ll apologize to the ferret later.  Right now we have work to do, and I can’t be worrying about what Draco’s thinking or feeling at the moment, as long as we’re not in imminent danger because of it.  Now get into position, we have work to do.”

“One of these days, Harry, you’re going to push that man too far, and he’s going to forget how much he cares about you and will probably curse you into oblivion,” Hermione admonished.

“Yeah, and then he’ll have one more item to add to his list of things he’s sorry for, but in the meantime, he’ll at least be alive to be hacked off at me, and right now that’s all I care about, so for the moment, can you please focus!”

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My Guardian Angel Hates Me (Response to a writing prompt found on Pinterest)

My guardian angel hates me, I know he does.  He must, it’s the only thing that explains why I keep surviving, but only barely.  He still has to do his job…technically.  But that doesn’t mean he can’t do everything in his power to ensure I get as banged up as possible every time, just to make sure I remember who’s really in charge of my life, him or me.  Guess what answer you’d get out of each of us?

I swear I either need to start investing in a better first aid kit, or just start reserving a room at the local hospital, save them the trouble of trying to find space for me every time I come in.  One of these days I’m going to actually meet my guardian angel, and then we’re going to have a serious talk…if I survive long enough, that is.

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