A Counter-Spell
Theme # 27: Muffliato


It was just after classes had ended, and the weather outside looked more than just plain inviting: it looked delicious. Very, Very delicious.

It was the sort of weather Ginny had always, always loved to bits and pieces, for the sun was hidden beneath a blanket of thick, thick, grey clouds that were just ready to rain - In fact, something of a a very light drizzle had already begun. The winds were strong and swift, and the scent of drenched mud was everywhere.

She skipped outside, into the grounds, only to find Orla by the lake. She half spun as she exclaimed brightly, vivid, red hair all over her face:

"I've finally found the perfect way to have a conversation without Zabini eavesdropping and hearing everything he shouldn't be!"

Orla looked up delightedly. "Excellent! What is it?"

"It's a spell," Ginny confided. "Harry mentioned it to me a couple of days ago, it's brilliant. No one will be able to hear us except, you know, the two of us. It's Muffliato."

From behind the rosebushes nearby emerged a tall, handsome boy with black hair and brown eyes.

"Excellent, Weasley. I just found a counter-spell."