Theme # 71: Untie


"Number!"

The owl flew in through the window, and Professor Vector hurried over. She quickly untied the letter attached to Number's leg -

- only to sigh loudly.

"Stupid advertisements," the Arithmancy professor muttered, as she crumpled up the piece of paper, and tossed it into the bin in the corner of her office. "No letter from David ..."

She sank back into her chair, and placed her head on her table. She was sick of companies who sent out unsolicited mail - sick of a bunch of fancy people who thought she needed a new hair-colour.

Septima Vector missed her man.

Theme # 72: Vex


Kids vexed Irma Pince. The underfed vulture - err, librarian - straightened up, swung her legs off her chair, and glared at a couple in the distance.

"This library is not for study-dates, Mr. Gordon." Her voice was sharp, the cusp of a knife.

The boy raised an eyebrow. "But we haven't made a noise."

"You haven't studied, either." She held up his open textbook - the page bore the name of the girl who sat opposite him. "Now - out."

The boy muttered under his breath, but decided it was best to leave. He had been embarrassed enough, for today.

Theme # 73: Warn


"But Luce -"

Lucy glared at her father. "But that's not nice! Nobody warns or scolds James!"

James Sirius Potter - quite the friend to Lucy, that young man. But he was, well, something of a prankster; and Percy knew it was not his fault that he had poured the babbling potion in her orange juice -- that boy, he could not help it.

"Now Lucy, I'll take to him. But he is your friend, and you know you love -"

" - I do NOT." She turned round, and marched off. Behind her, Percy smiled. Those two would sort everything out - he knew.

Theme # 74: X-tinguish


The last light of the house had been extinguished, and she looked forward to a trouble-free sleep. Apolline Delacour closed her eyes, but he had yet to be exhausted of talk - he was excited that he had been promoted, quite excited.

"Mr. Delacour."

He stopped talking, raised an eyebrow at the last name. "Apolline?"

"Do you realize," she sat up. "That you have been talking non-stop for the past five minutes? Or that it's useless to discuss the monetary benefits of this job? -- we are already quite rich."

He grinned. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Theme # 75: Yodel


Oh my, such excitement! She had bought tickets to the match, tomorrow; for her favourite team - the Holyhead Harpies - was to play. It would be an awesome day, and Matilda Dukelow could not wait for morning.

"I can yodel in the shower, I am that happy!" she informed her best friend. Who raised an eyebrow, but was pretty sure that he did not doubt it. "What, why that look, mister? Do you doubt my words?"

"I don't, in fact," he replied, with a sudden chuckle. "You want to get some ice-cream? Maybe chocolate-chip?"

Matilda grinned her yes.

Theme # 76: Zap


"Oh, Godric."

She clung to the front of his robes, and Godric Gryffindor bit his lip. "Now, now, Rowena," he tried to calm her, patting the top of her head rather awkwardly.

"But - Salazar - he cannot have left -" Rowena spluttered, pulling away from him. There was none of the usual shine in her eyes, and that was enough assurance of how much she loved that man. Which was exactly why his departure made Godric's blood boil - how could Salazar leave Rowena, alone? Godric wanted to zap him into oblivion.

"Forget him," he said staunchly.

"I can't," she whispered.

Theme # 77: Cheerful


Orla Quirke closed her eyes -- this was it, the moment she had awaited for days.

"Clever." Whether the Sorting Hat was in conversation with her, or itself, Orla did not know, but she listened to it with a cheerful shine in her bright, blue eyes. "I see intelligence ... and you have potential..."

"A crush on Harry Potter, too," she whispered back.

It would have blinked, could it do so - students who talked back, it had known, but never one who talked back like this. "Quite sharp," it declared. "Would do good in Ravenclaw."

"You think Potter likes that house?"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Theme # 81: Depression


She sat by the pond, shoes taken off and placed next to her, feet in the cold water. She cupped her hands, dipped them in the water - it swished around in them, then drained away through the gaps between her fingers.

In silence, she contemplated. Contemplated what the direct results of what she intended to do, could - would - be.

Hunt. They would send him after her.

Depression. Her mother would want her diadem back. Her mother might want her back, too.

Benefits. She would rise in intelligence, be more what she wanted to be.


Helena Ravenclaw rose, nodded to herself.

Theme # 82: Careful


"Psst, careful."

Luna Scamander gave her brother a look. "Don't be silly, Lorcan," she scolded, but her voice was not above a whisper. "... you make us sound like thieves."

"Because we will be that in ten minutes," he pointed out.

She glared at him. "Be quiet."



Thieves? Pshaww. They were good kids, and only wanted to know what the surprise their Father had brought for Mummy's birthday tomorrow, was. The fact that they were going to break into the storeroom he had locked, and drag the 'surprise' to their room for a better look?

Oh well, no worries.

Theme # 83: Fearful


"It's HIM!"

For one, tiny moment, Veronica Smethley was not glad that she had arrived early, at the event - she cut a fine figure at the very head of the crowd, but Gilderoy Lockhart had arrived late, and as he stepped into the large bookstore, she was not the first to be able to glimpse his roguish, good looks.

"He looks fearful," an old lady, who had been forced to come here, courtesy a teenage daughter, commented most unhappily. "What the heck is this noise for, young ladies?"

"It's him, lady, Gilderoy Lockhart!" Veronica gushed, in excited response.

Theme # 89: Past


Phyllida Spore looked up from her table, and rubbed her groggy eyes. She had spent the night by the light of two lamps - dawn broke through now, and sleep called.

But she had yet to let herself retire to bed. Her last book - One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi - had been a past bestseller, but she could not revel in its fame, any longer - deadlines were ready to arrive, and she needed to hand in the new manuscript she had promised her publisher.

"Make me a cup of tea, will you, Jelly-Legs?" she called out, to her house-elf.

Theme # 86: Daring


They knew her because she had stood up for women when others had been reluctant to -- knew her because she had put the 'DARE' in daring -- people knew Dorcas Wellbeloved because she was a good lady, one dedicated to her cause.

-- and because she was quite pretty.

As she picked up a hairbrush to comb her brown curls now, Dorcas had to smile: brave, new woman; founder of the Society for Distressed Witches - they could call her that, they could.

But in her heart of hearts, she was, would always be, a pretty girl who loved the joy of risks.

Theme # 87: Plaid


It was not Roxanne Weasley's fault that she had inherited a bit of both her parents - George's love for pranks, Angelina's dark hair. George's sense of humour, Angelina's of fashion. It was her fault, however, that she could not balance the two.

"Mum, does this look good?" she asked, as she bounded down the staircase. The shirt was a baggy, oversized one - plaid stuff that read 'Life is VERY interesting if you make mistakes." "I plan to give it to Teds. In honour of his latest fortnight's worth of detentions."

George chuckled, Angela glared.

Theme # 88: Sweet Tooth


Arithmancy is tough stuff. It came naturally to Bridget Wenlock, of course - she had not established the properties of the number seven, without a talent for the subject - but even she had to admit, at times, that the job of an Arithmancer could be quite a challenge.

Which was exactly why her desk bore, not only the neatly stacked tomes on the subject she loved best, but several baskets stuffed with pretty, silver paper, and full to the brim with slabs of delicious, dark chocolate.

Because, this way, she could indulge her love for Arithmancy and her sweet tooth, both.

Theme # 80: Author's Choice


"My lady."

He bowed low to the woman in the doorway, and she smiled in response, an artful smile she knew charmed. "Come in, Mr. Danleck."

He followed the gorgeous woman into the drawing-room and, as he sat down, asked out of idle curiosity, why her son, Blaise, was not home for the summer.

"He received a dinner invitation, and is at the Malfoy Manor, tonight. Would you like a firewhisky, Mr. Danleck?"

It was not that she needed rich men - she had plenty of money, herself. It was just that they were good company, when Blaise was away.

Theme # 90: Present


"Druidess."

Cliodna looked up, and her beautiful eyes were calm. "What is it?" she asked, beckoning to a pretty bird that hovered nearby. It responded to the call at once, came down to settle on her fair shoulder.

"They have brought a man - say there is no chance for survival -"

"How can they say that?" she said quietly, as she put down the paperwork her arms were full on. She could return to her research on Moondew, later - for the present, her skills to heal called. "Show me the way."

He led her away from the room.

Three birds followed.

Theme # 91: Future


Fridwulfa's eyes were mean, her giant hands balled into fists. "Do not be daft," she spat. "We can not possibly consider a treaty with wizards, or with witches. Their sole plan is to take over, kill us."

Grumpdoe raised a hand, and she fell silent, though very grudgingly. "The War is open," he said, through narrowed eyes. "That boy - what is his name? Voldemort? - rises into power. The Future is uncertain and, sooner or later, we will have to make a choice - it is either the Dark Side, or the Order of the Phoenix."

Fridwulfa snarled and turned away.

Theme # 93: Chicken


She threw the door open, trotted into the room. The other witches sat at the table, and they rose when she stepped in.

"Wendelin!" one cried joyfully. "You're alive."

"Wendelin, the Weird," someone at the back of the room sniggered.

Wendelin ignored the latter, and turned to the former - her best friend. "Of course, I am," she grinned. "I'm not a dish of chicken, Morsa - they can't roast me."

"This is what, the thirty-second time you allowed yourself to be caught, so you could be burnt at the stake?" someone asked.

Wendelina beamed a happy yes.

Theme # 92: Chocolate


What a trial! To be honest, Amelia had not known which side she was on - that Potter boy, she was not in love with. But his face was honest, and she was certain she did not want him expelled.

"Madam Bones."

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement came to a brisk halt. "Sir?"

"Sent you a memo, but it might have missed," the man said, tones crisp. "You're required at..."

She checked a sigh. Some busy day, some busy day. She was certain she would need a glass of hot chocolate, by the end of it.

Theme # 94: Allergic


"Get. Out."

"No," Neville Longbottom's tones were crisp. "I WILL know where Ginny is. Was she too much for you? Did you lose to a sixteen-year-old -" He let out a yelp, as went flying through the air.

"Now -- out." Her tones were soft, dangerous and, before he could so much as jump back to his feet, Alecto Carrow had flicked her wand. He was hurled backwards -- slammed into a wall -- and the door of her office banged shut in his face.

Alecto went back to her chair, furious. She was allergic to that kid.

Hated his guts.

Theme # 95: Snowball


THWACK.

Greta Catchlove looked up from her desk, and blinked through a mouthful of snow. "Stop it, Stuffy," she said irritatedly, as her brother grinned and began to mould another snowball. She should have known it was not a good idea to keep the window open.

"Hey, Grets! Take that!"

She ducked, and the snowball went flying over head, and -- and straight into a platter of cheese that stood on the table by the back wall. Greta's eyes widened. "You IDIOT!"

The author of Charm Your Own Cheese was on her feet in seconds. Stuffy ran for his life.

Theme # 96: Socks


"This is Glenda Chittock, signing off."

There was a beep, and the buzz of broadcast-magic came to an abrupt end. Glenda Chittock's chair scraped the floor, as the presenter of the top-rated Witching Hour pushed back her seat, and rose to her feet.

"Awesome work, Glenda!" A photographer grinned, as he gave her a thumbs-up. "You put quite a lot of effort in today's Christmas Special, I see."

"Thanks," she smiled. But her mind was no longer in the workplace - it had retreated into thoughts of comfort, into a scrumptious dinner and pretty, new socks.

Theme # 97: Dictionary


"Quite a book there, Chubb."

Agatha Chubb looked up, and waved to a co-worker as she stepped into her office, arms full of quite an enormous dictionary - although the witch was an archaeologist who specialized in ancient artifacts of magic, she was always up for a good read on other aspects of her field of work.

"How's the work on the 'em peat bogs?" someone called out. Office was a small place for conversation, a run-down building that was hardly very noticeable, and Agatha was glad there were good people she could talk to.

"Brilliant, Morinson, brilliant."

Theme # 98: Pyjamas


Chieftainess Elfrida Clagg pushed back her grayish hair as she stepped into the conference room. She had overslept for a reason she could not comprehend, and literally tripped out of bed, in her haste. She simply could not miss this meeting!

But laughter erupted along the length of the conference room, the moment she entered. Elfrida's eyes narrowed, most dangerously. "What the HECK are you laughing at, all of you?" she demanded, at once. "This is an important day, we must discuss the protection of the Golden Snidget -"

"You're in your pyjamas, Elfrida!" a laughing voice rang out.

Theme # 100: Homework


"James?"

He looked up from his book. He was in bed, and he took off his glasses now, rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Darling?"

She sat at the edge of the room, in the seat by the writing-desk, and her bright, green eyes were not too happy. "This crossword puzzle is like homework," she pouted. "Help me?"

James raised an eyebrow. "It's two in the morning, sweetheart, and the only reason I am awake is that you need to have the lights on." He could never sleep with those. "Please."

She pouted again. "Then kiss me?"

James grinned.

"Definitely."