Sighs and Leers, and Crocodile Tears: One Hundred Wizards - Sa13+
 

One Hundred for Wizards Known <3

What are young men made of?
Sighs and leers, and crocodile tears,
And that are young men made of.


For S.O;
and for all the tears and laughs.
♥

{ To Do List }

1. Herbology
2. Muggle Studies
3. Transfiguration
4. Ancient Runes
5. Astronomy
6. Divination
7. Care of Magical Creatures
8. Potions
9. Defense Against the Dark Arts
10. Arithmancy
11. History of Magic
12. Charms
13. Quidditch
14. Hogwarts, A History
15. Room
16. Dragonhide gloves
17. Cauldron
18. Whomping Willow
19. Wand
20. Hogsmeade
21. Veela
22. Kneazle
23. Telescope
24. House elf
25. Sorting Hat
26. Quill
27. Owl
28. Timeturner
29. Pensieve
30. Feast
31. Dress robes
32. Common room
33. Classroom
34. Parseltongue
35. Pureblood
36. Muggle
37. Animagus
38. Patronus
39. Duel
40. Spell
41. Thestrals
42. Portraits
43. Headmaster
44. Ford Anglia
45. Torch
46. Dungeon
47. Portkey
48. Leprechaun
49. Yule Ball
50. Boggart
51. Act
52. Bore
53. Chase
54. Dare
55. Egg on
56. Fight
57. Gape
58. Hoot
59. Ignore
60. Joke
61. Kiss
62. Lope
63. Mooch
64. Nap
65. Ooze
66. Pace
67. Quell
68. Roar
69. Slap
70 Team
71. Untie
72. Vex
73. Warn
74. x-tinguish
75. Yodel
76. Zap
77. Cheerful
78. Author's choice
79. Author's Choice
80. Author's Choice
81. Depression
82. Careful
83. Fearful
84. Angry
85. Snappish
86. Daring
87. Plaid
88. Sweet Tooth
89. Past
90. Present
91. Future
92. Chocolate
93. Chicken
94. Allergic
95. Snowball
96. Socks
97. Dictionary
98. Pyjamas
99. Newspaper
100. Homework

Pink = Done

______________________

Theme # 01: Herbology
Breaking the Fourth Wall. Mini Challenge. <3


He had every right to strut about.

He was Harry Potter! THE Harry Potter. You wouldn't have the fantastic, fantastic Harry Potter fandom without him! Hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, Harry stepped into the Herbology greenhouses, and struck a pose. Because he knew how awesome he was, now.

Everyone in the vicinity laughed.

This wasn't the reaction he had expected. It must be the glasses. Harry frowned, and looked up. "I've decided I don't want to wear glasses anymore," he told the author, decisively. "Give me contact lenses, and pretty, yellow eyes."

There.

Theme # 02: Muggle Studies


Euan Abercrombie was only four feet, when he stepped into the Great Hall at Hogwarts, for the first time. The huge size of the castle would, at any other time, have appeared as the sole cause of worry, to him - the kid was apt to get lost.

That night, however, he had other reasons to be anxious, on his mind. Such as Harry Potter.

*

The kid with the scar stormed off, leaving a tentative-looking Hermione Granger behind. Euan backed further into the wall and shadows, crashing rather painfully into the half-open, wooden door of the Muggle Studies classroom.

Theme # 03: Transfiguration


Professor Dippet would never suspect the Head Boy, the man seated behind the well-polished desk, in his office, knew. Dumbledore frowned, absent-mindedly tapping the surface of his desk with the end of an elegant, eagle-feathered quill. He had no proof, only deep-rooted suspicion - and that, the Transfiguration professor knew, was not good enough. Not where someone such as one of Hogwarts's "best" head boys was concerned.

A chair scraped back, as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. Perhaps, he decided, a steaming mug of coffee would take his mind off the troubles of everyday existence.

Theme # 04: Ancient Runes


"But, professor -"

Bathsheda finally turned round to face Malcolm Baddock, though it was clear she was tired of the Snake.

"I said no, Mr. Baddock," she said, hand gripped round her wand. Not that she was going to throw a hex at him. Professor Babbling was definitely not a violent person. But it was her way of expressing anger.

"But, professor -"

"Mr. Baddock, there is nothing I can do to help you!" Bathsheda said, exasperated. "You have a T in your Ancient Runes OWL, I can not possibly allow you to continue my class!"

"But -"

"What?"

"My girlfriend likes Runes!"

Theme # 05: Astronomy


Professor Sinistra raised an eyebrow, when she stepped back into her specially set-up classroom, for a lesson on star-gazing. The students sat cross-legged on the ground, as she had instructed before she had left. At the back of the class, however, stood a conjured chair; and, upon it, sat Draco Malfoy, looking perfectly smug in his perfectly-ironed robes, platinum fringe sweeping his forehead.

"Why are you," Professor Sinistra asked coolly. "On a chair, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I didn't want to set the ground on fire, ma'am," Draco drawled back.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm hot, remember?"

Theme # 06: Divination


Hogwarts had polished generations of wand-wielders, nurturing in its lap many who had directed magic, on to a platform of further progress. But what Hogwarts did not see often, was people who enjoyed Divination.

Or Seers.

Which was exactly why Professor Dumbledore gazed at the boy in front of him with particular interest, now.

"... and you knew Miss Brown was going to trip down the staircase before she fell, Mr. Towler?"

Kenneth Towler nodded. "Yes, sir."

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward. "May I ask how?"

"Because I placed the trip-jinx that made her stumble downstairs, sir," Kenneth replied cheerfully.

Theme # 07: Care of Magical Creatures


His life had always seemed like a tragedy of errors. Half-giant, he had never been treated very well, by his classmates. His love for what others found "vicious" had set him apart, too.

Then the Chamber of Secrets had opened, life had taken another twist for the worse, and Hagrid had felt that what little good there had been in his life, had been lost, too.


*

Head bowed down, the half-giant drank the last sip of coffee in the massive mug on the table in his cabin.

It was still hard to believe he was a teacher, now.

Theme # 08: Potions


It was as if he had died altogether, yet again. It did not matter, that he had been humiliated, and James Potter's son had seen that. What mattered was that his chest had been cut open once more -- that salt had been re-sprinkled on his wounds -- what he held nearest and dearest and most painful, torn visible for one he hated, and yet could not help but love, to see.

The Potions Master and Harry Potter had not gotten along before. They would never get along, now.



"Having fun?"

The scene evaporated. They were back in his office.

Theme # 09: Defense Against the Dark Arts


Gilderoy Lockhart yawned, as he sat up in bed. Sunlight streamed into his room, filtered by silk curtains, and he realized that he was in the room allotted to him at Hogwarts.

Today, of course, would be his first day at the school. The fact that he had managed to acquire the job obviously made him think even better of himself, if that were even possible. Yes, he would step into his new shoes this morning, those that belonged to a master of Defense.

But first, a cup of coffee.

He had fan-mail to tackle before class, after all.

Theme # 10: Arithmancy


The lady that sat in front of him was, to say the least, extremely pretty. She was clearly, the young wizard decided, the kind of woman he wanted.

Clearing his throat, he leaned across the table. "So, Miss Vector," he said, tones perfectly charming. "What do you do, in your spare time?"

"Well, I'm an Arithmancer," Septima answered, cheerfully. "I'll be off to Hogwarts to fill in the post of their resident Arithmancy professor, this fall."

The wizard choked on his coffee, and placed his mug down. He wasn't so sure he wanted this woman, after all.

Theme # 11: History of Magic


'Honest Willy' Wagstaff waved the old book in the young woman's face. "This book," he said. "Is the solution to all your problems, my lady!"

It was only a History of Magic book he had picked up in the garbage, but if the lady believed him, then that was definitely the solution to some of his problems. If a battered book could bring him some dough, he was ready to make any amount of false claims about it.

"But -" The lady hesitated. "You're sure it works, aren't you, mister?"

He beamed at her.

"Of course, my dear!"

Theme # 12: Charms


"FRED WEASLEY!"

Fred looked up, from his work.

"GEORGE WEASLEY!"

George looked up, from his work.

"BOTH OF YOU GET DOWN HERE, THIS INSTANT!"

The twins exchanged a look. Neither bothered to head down, of course. They knew what was best for them. They had years of practice at this, after all.

One, two, three seconds of silence. Even the twins were beginning to get surprised by the quiet, now. Then.

"DID YOU TWO CHARM MY WAND, TOO?"

"Think we should try to get Ron to help us out?" Fred asked, cheerfully.

George considered this.

"Nah," they both said, together.

Theme # 13: Quidditch


Nobody knew why Hugo had decided to try out, for the Gryffindor team. It was clear that Ron and Hermione's son did not enjoy the sport of Quidditch. The fourteen year old clung to his new broomstick now, mouth open but his teenage self too scared to so much as shout out, in fear.

"Think we should help him?" a little boy, barely eleven, asked from the stands.

His friend, a girl the same age as him, thought of this. Then she shook her head. "He's only five feet in the air, after all," she pointed out, cheerfully.

Theme # 14: Hogwarts, A History
Breaking the Fourth Wall. Mini Challenge. <3


It was two in the morning, and a single light burned low in the Gryffindor Common Room, sending shadows flitting across the walls in a way that could be considered eerie. But Ronald Weasley was from spooked. The fifth year sat, in front of the fireplace, a fat book in his lap.

In the glint of the light, it was not difficult to catch the name of the book that the boy in the drabble was pouring over: It was Hogwarts, A History.

He was sure he would be able to impress Hermione with his knowledge of the castle, soon.

Theme # 15: Room


Peeking at his wristwatch over the head of his 'girlfriend,' Sirius realized that it was seven in the evening. He had told another girl to meet him, at this time. If she arrived and saw him with someone else, he was dead meat.

His companion lifted her head to say something. Sirius barely had time to respond – there was a knock at the door of the room. Merlin, Sirius knew he was in a tight spot, now. Crossing his fingers, he took a deep breath.

There was no difficult spot he had not been able to get out of yet.

Theme # 16: Dragonhide gloves


Seamus Finnigan twirled his wand nervously, as he looked at the display in front of him. It was a glass case, full of a variety of objects. What especially caught his eye, though, was a pair of dragonhide gloves in gold, each with a little ruby stitched into the bottom left.

He paid for the pair, and accepted the case that the shopkeeper passed him, the one that contained the gloves. It looked like the perfect gift, for the girl he had his eyes on. Now the only problem was to muster up enough courage to give it to her.

Theme # 17: Cauldron


James Potter looked markedly mischievous - and his wife, not impressed. Her arms were crossed against her chest, as she glared at him over the cauldron that separated them.

Which cauldron was belching out perfumed lavender vapours.

“You are not teaching Harry how to cook up a Love Potion.” Lily sounded more exasperated than angry, but it was clear that she was both. “He’s not even one, James!"

James placed the stirrer on the ground, and looked at Lily through oh-so-innocent, hazel eyes. “But he’s enjoying it, Lils. Don't you want him to enjoy?”

Lily sighed.

Theme # 18: Whomping Willow


Blaise Zabini kicked a pebble lying on the ground. It flew through the air, landing by the Whomping Willow, which struck out a mighty branch and attacked nothing in particular, and everything in general.

“No need to take your anger out on nature, Zabini.”

He turned round, at the voice. “Nobody asked you to poke your large nose into my business, Weasley.”

Ginny did not look offended by the comment, at all. “Don’t worry. I expect you to be immature,” she said cheerfully, strolling off, hands tucked into the pockets of her ripped jeans.

Blaise kicked at another pebble.

Theme # 19: Wand


Little Ollivander stepped into the wand shop, his eyes unusually bright. They were not often this happy. The misted silver was more often than not a silent shade, that was sometimes surprising to behold – too quiet, for such a young child.

He was not a quiet child, though. Even talkative if the occasion called for it, in fact. The kind of child who would rather stay silent; but, should something interest him, ask no end of questions related to it.

“Try this one,” the shopkeeper said, handing out a box to the little kid.

Ollivander accepted it, with quiet joy.

Theme # 20: Hogsmeade


“You're kidding me!”

Oliver Wood had expected something that would make his stomach turn upon itself, in little, sticky knots. He had expected her to stare at him, to walk off, anything but this. Which was exactly why he gazed at her out of stunned eyes, Hogsmeade unfurling around them in all of its snowy magnificence.

“I'm.... not,” he said, quietly. It was almost a whisper. Alicia found that half ironic, given how long and loud he could ramble, at any amount of pep talks.

Then she grinned, and threw her arms around him.

“I love you, too!”

Theme # 21: Veela


There was a number of people, who were jealous of Regulus Black. Some of them hated him, for no apparent reason; but more often than not, they had a very valid one. Such as the fact that Regulus was more intelligent, or handsome, or better at studies, or Quidditch. The list did not end there. Regulus could have been called a Gary Stu, and only one or two people would have doubted it.

But even those one or two would not doubt such a claim, now. Because the latest news was, the young Black’s new girlfriend was part-veela.

Theme # 22: Kneazle


There was no doubt Teddy Lupin was exasperated by his daughter's choice in pets. Did she have to get herself a kneazle? She could have gotten something peaceful, like a matchbox turtle. But no, she had to get a cat that was suspicious of Teddy's hair, and growled like mad if the shade switched.

Shaking his head, he stepped into the lounge, his hair turning a dull shade of green when he spotted the part-kneazle on the sofa at the far end. The kneazle growled at him, and waved an evil-looking paw at him, in response.

Theme # 23: Telescope


There are some people that are neither black, nor white. They are, surprisingly, not gray either.

You can not describe them, in words. You have to see them, meet them, to know who they are.

Mundungus Fletcher was, perhaps, one of these people. For him, it was like Christmas had come early. There was no doubt he was unhappy about Sirius's death. He had, for all the conflict between them, respected the Black.

But Sirius’s death had left him with a whole new source of income. Picking out the silver telescope and several, heavy goblets, Mundungus pocketed them.

Theme # 24: House Elf


Dean Thomas stared. His mother was a witch, he knew, who liked her comfort. But when he had left for Hogwarts, the previous summer, he had never expected to come back to this.

“But a house elf?” He asked, trying to talk some sense. “Seriously, mum! We can handle our chores ourselves!”

“You mean I can handle everyone's chores,” Mrs. Thomas pointed out, rather dryly. When Dean did not respond, she added, more cheerfully, “Good news is, I haven't named him yet. I thought you might like to.”

“Can we just call him The Elf?”

Mrs. Thomas blinked.

Theme # 25: Sorting Hat


There had never been a doubt, in the Sorting Hat's mind, that Neville Longbottom was a Gryffindor. It saw bravery, the moment the little boy scooped it up, letting the hat slide down his ears.

Neville, however, was not convinced. He had expected to end up in Hufflepuff because he was neither brave, nor cunning, nor intelligent – only a person with a desire to work hard, someone who knew where his own loyalties lay.

It would be another seven years, before Neville would sit down, and admit that the Sorting Hat had seen much better than him, after all.

Theme # 26: Quill


She was chewing the end of her quill, but Cormac found even that gesture rather adorable. There was no doubt Hermione Granger had grown more womanly, over the summer. Her hair was less frizzy, her cheeks sported more blush, and her figure was, in short, beautiful.

“Hey.”

She looked up from her seat in the library, to see Cormac McLaggen leaning against the nearest bookshelf, blonde hair falling into his eyes.

“Yes?” she asked, politely.

“Go out with me, this Sunday?” Cormac asked, quite certain that she could not possibly say no to someone as hot as him.

Hermione stared.

Theme # 27: Owl


The Keeper of the Philosopher's Stone was busy, today. Perenelle zipped up her jumper, to look across the room, at her husband.

"Ready, Nico?"

Nicolas Flamel looked up from his desk, and nodded. Slipping the letter he had been writing - one addressed to his dear, old chum Albus Dumbledore - into an envelope, the wizard tied it to the leg of his favourite owl, and watched it fly off.

Then he turned to Perenelle. "Where were we, dear?"

She smiled at him, a happy smile he loved, from across the room. "We were going to buy some new socks, dear."

Theme # 28: Timeturner


Cornelius Fudge was less than happy. Work had never been this stressful, before. Disappearances he could not explain, break outs from Azkaban that he loved to blame on Sirius Black, and piles of paper-work that he left to his Senior Undersecretary were only some causes of tension, in his office.

Newest in the tales of anxiety was the one regarding the Department of Mysteries. The Death Chamber division head had just informed him, through a hastily written memo, that several timeturners had crashed, breaking open and leading to certain difficulties that required his immediate presence.

Fudge wanted to quit.

Theme # 29: Pensieve


“Lucius?”

The voice was tentative, almost as if the person who wielded knew that its presence could send the man bending over the Pensieve, into a fit of anger.

Lucius Malfoy shut the cabinet door close, and turned around to face his wife. There were lines of worry etched deep in his face, and he did not bother to hide them. “What do you want, Narcissa?” He asked roughly.

Her beautiful eyes flickered. “I'm worried about Draco,” she said softly. “We need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” he said curtly, even harshly, as he turned away from her.

Theme # 30: Feast


Molly Weasley certainly knew how to cook a feast. He sat down, wondering why on earth he was late for this dinner. It looked like the gravy was already about to finish, there were so many people at the table.

He pulled a plate of awesomely-scented mashed potatoes towards himself, tipping some into his plate. When he looked up again, half an hour later, his appetite completely satisfied, he realized that someone was watching him. Might have been watching him eat like a wild thing for quite a while, in fact.

Tonks.

Remus had the grace to blush lightly.

Theme # 31: Dress robes


If there was one thing that Tom Riddle was, beyond everything was, any girl would say it was “elegant.” Of course, none of them knew him well. But, yes, to anyone looking at him for the first time, Tom Riddle was the picture of perfection.

Elegance.

Sweeping into the great hall, his dark dress robes billowing behind him in the wind, Tom knew his entrance at the ball, though not at all intended to be grand, had caught more than just a few eyes. He had no reason to be satisfied, however. There were more important matters, on his mind.

Theme # 32: Common room


“Hey, Smith! Is it true you're suffering from Loser's Lurgy?”

The people would not stop taunting. Zacharias Smith had a good mind to corner Loony, and give her a piece of his mind. The problem was, he could never find her. Which was exactly why the only thing he could do was to look ahead, shoulders straight; and pretend, yet again that he had not heard the rude comments.

“HEY, LOSER!”

That was it. The final straw. Zacharias stormed off, into his common room, his fists shaking with the effort of forcing himself not to throw a punch.

Theme # 33: Classroom


“Weasley, William.”

Bill stepped through the door at the side, into the circular classroom. The examiner, an old lady with gnarled hands and friendly eyes, peered at him through round spectacles.

The first thing she noticed about him was the hoop in one ear, and the fancy ponytail.

The second was the Head Boy badge glistening on his chest.

“Mr. Weasley,” she said, motioning for him to sit. “I hear you had eleven Outstanding OWL’s, the year before last.”

Bill grinned. “Only seven, ma’am.” But he liked the rumours. They made him feel funny, in a good way.

Theme # 34: Parseltongue


The snake slithered away, and Salazar watched it leave, his eyes on the animal, though his mind was somewhere else. It was nearly time, the Founder could not help but think. Time to make the break.

Tear away.

It was not that Salazar Slytherin did not have a heart. Biologically, we all do. Some say that, the above statement considered, it is the colour that matters. The inward colour. Salazar's was not black, as many tend to assume. It was the same shade as everyone else's.

The only difference was the uses the Parseltongue put its emotions to.

Theme # 35: Pureblood


Crabbe and Goyle looked decidedly happy, today. Anyone who knew them even a little could, by the looks on their faces, find himself more than able to tell what was up – they must have found a new source of food.

Right anyone with such an assumption would be, too. Because when the two Slytherins approached their common room, their arms were full of chocolate-and-vanilla cupcakes, the kind with little walnuts sprinkled happily on top.

“Pureblood,” Crabbe said, giving the password that would let them through, through a mouthful of cupcake that he swallowed only after he had spoken.

Theme # 36: Muggle


There should have been nothing special about her. He had, from day one, been brought up to believe that anyone who came of a muggle family was worthless. But she did not look it and, try as he might, he could not bring himself to think of her, that way. He liked the black of her hair, the way her skin was slightly tanned, and the dimples that showed up when she smiled, which she did often.

The Slytherin warmed his hands in front of the fireplace, wondering when the status of blood had first become a cause of separation.

Theme # 37: Animagus


The little rat peered out, from under the bed. It was starting to get extremely tiring, to be an animal, all day long. But it was also necessary to his survival. Peter Pettigrew knew the only route to a life was to keep his act up, make sure he did not let anyone suspect that he was who he was, not a common rat that belonged to a Weasley, but someone who had sent his best friend and his family to a merciless death.

Then Crookshanks had spotted him, yet again, and Peter the rat was scampering for his life.

Theme # 38: Patronus


Michael Corner raised his wand, for the umpteenth time that day. He tried to muster up every ounce of happiness within him, focus on every good thing in his life – but when the incantation had been pronounced, the wand movement acted out, what came out was only a wisp of silvery smoke, and no actual Patronus.

“I give up,” the seventh year said, wearily.

The professor smiled, slightly. “You're not concentrating on a particular happy memory, Mr. Corner. You keep thinking of too much."

He sigh, nodded, and raised his dawn again. One more try could not possibly hurt.

Theme # 39: Duel


Even as he fell to the floor, Samson Wiblin had a look of total disbelief on his face. It was hard to believe that a woman, a woman, had defeated him. Him, the Samson Wiblin, the superb favourite to win the All-England Duelling Competition, 1430.


*

Two years later, Samson Wiblin was still not satisfied. He had yet to gain a victory over Alberta Toothill, to wipe out the humiliation of her excellently-executed Blasting Charm, and the embarrassment and discomfiture it had caused him, back then.

The problem was, she seemed to get the better of him, every time.

Theme # 40: Spell


"Oi, Urquhart!"

The Slytherin Captain turned, tall, handsome and messy-haired. He liked his hair windswept. Yes, he certainly had the tendency to accidentally-on-purpose mess up his hair.

The Gryffindor who had addressed him, a reserve chaser for her team, marched up to him, brushing bangs off her forehead. "Who the HECK told you that you can book the pitch, for tomorrow? I knew you can't spell, but can you not read, either? We've already booked it."

Urquhart grinned. "Does that mean you're still not going to go out with me, Robins?" He asked casually.

Theme # 41: Thestrals


Devlin Whitehorn had never sought fame. What he had sought was speed, because it was something he prized, over most other things in his life. He had sought to revolutionize broom sports and, as far as that was concerned, he had succeeded.

But, of course, success has its drawbacks.

The wizard found himself under the radar, now. The press wanted a piece of him, and he was not willing to give it. He would much rather spend some time with his two thestrals, taking care of them; or, even better, working on a new broomstick.

The papers had other ideas.

Theme # 42: Portraits


"But papa!"

Septimus Weasley looked up, from his book. He loved his daughter-in-law. Loved the way she had never referred to him by his name, at least had not since she had married his son.

But her questions were starting to bother him.

"Yes, Molly?"

She frowned. "Don't tell me Arthur always had a love for plugs," Molly despaired. "You're his father, papa, you must have a solution."

Septimus sighed. "Throw away the plugs, and teach him how to paint self-portraits," he suggested. "Or maybe you could teach him how to play twister."

Molly stared.

Theme # 43: Headmaster


Dexter Fortescue sighed, as he stepped into his office, and took in his chambers. Hogwarts, when he had first taken up the post of its Headmaster, had been a blooming school. He had thought the position would be easy to tackle.

He was starting to realize how wrong that thought had been, now.

The wise - because, yes, he was wise - man sat down, hands placed on his desk, not sure how to tackle the problem of the girl who claimed not to have kissed the boy, and the teacher who claimed to have caught them kissing in the broom closet.

Theme # 44: Ford Anglia


Charlie knew he should not have listened to the twins.

He was pretty much one of the most sensible of the Weasley lot. Like Bill. That was why they got along so well. They both knew how to have fun and be responsible, simultaneously.

But he was regretting this decision.

The Ford Anglia turned dangerously and, in the driver's seat, George chuckled as he guided the steering wheel. Fred, sitting next to him, was grinning from ear-to-ear. Charlie clutched his seat, pretty much for his life.

"Having fun, Charl?" The twins chorus.

Charlie sighed.

"Never had more."

Theme # 45: Torch


It was dark in the house, and Marvolo could not sleep again. The insomnia had started more than a year ago, and then it had stuck, like a plague that refused any treatment. It had stayed, and with it had deteriorated whatever was left of the good in Marvolo Gaunt.

The man rose to his feet, now, wand raised like a torch, its feeble rays diverging in the room, the only source of light in the otherwise, dark den. As he shuffled his feet along, it was a pity to see the guy who had once been almost handsome, now.

Theme # 46: Dungeon


"SCORPIUS MALFOY!"

Scorpius jumped to his feet. Good God, she had not found out, had she? Apparently, she had. Because a moment later, the door of his oh-so-private bedroom had flown open, and Astoria Malfoy stood in the doorway, livid.

"I can not believe what your Head of House tells me!" She thundered. "How could you set the whole of the dungeons on fire, Scorpius?"

"Because I was trying?" Scorpius offered, meekly. He wasn't the cheeky, in-your-face kind of troublemaker.

Yet.

"Downstairs. Now."

She was going to make Draco have a talk with their son.

Theme # 47: Portkey


He had felt it grow. The Dark Mark. It had started like a painful twinge, and then it had grown, grown and started to take a hold on him.

To put it in plain words, Igor Karkaroff was scared.

He had never been this scared, before. He had sought the Dark Arts for what he had thought was their power, only to realize that they were nothing but injury to what was innocent. He bit his lip now, wondering why, and if, his his sole relief from them was about to shatter.

Then, eyes closed, he reached for the Portkey.

Theme # 48: Leprechaun


Ludo Bagman knew that he was about to do something that he should not, never under any set of circumstances. Leprechaun gold would make a wonderful substitute to pay off his bets, but he would be persecuted, later. It was something that would get him into more trouble, than it got him out of.

But, right now, he had no other option. Everything was a mess, complete chaos, and the only ray of he light he saw was in a pack of lies.

Shoving the gold into his pockets, the boyish, very good-looking ex-beater took a deep breath.

Theme # 49: Yule Ball


Three words: He thought she was beautiful. Three, not five, because only the last three mattered to Marcus Flint. Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, the Snake knew who he wanted to ask out, to the Yule Ball.

Knew she would hate to - but still - turn him down, too.

*

"Spinnet."

Alicia came to a halt, muffler wound tightly round her neck to keep out the cold, and looked up at Marcus Flint out of steely eyes. "What do you want, Flint?" She asked, briskly.

"Yule Ball?" He asked, lazily.

"No."

"You love me anyway," he pointed out, with a smirk.

Theme # 50: Boggart


Tilden Toots, popular radio personality, had never faced a boggart. Which was why, when he was asked to do a show on the subject, he decided he might face his own, first.

He already knew the spell to get rid of one. That was why he decided that being armed with his wand was sufficient enough, and he did not need any further practice, to tackle his.

He chickened out at the last moment, though. Did not open the cabinet, and ran off. That was when Tilden decided he needed something other than his wand to face a boggart - courage.

Theme # 51: Act


It takes courage, to be an alchemist. It is a process, not an act or profession; and intelligence is not, never has been, the core of it. The core of it is, in fact, something else entirely - wisdom, and free will, and to be who you are, and to know who you are.

That was what Dzou Yen thought, at any rate.

He stepped into his little room, very simple chambers for someone who had unlocked, for himself, the enchanting conversion of simplicity into real gilt, and glitter into actual gold.

Sitting down, cross-legged, the alchemist began to read.

Theme # 52: Bore


Bore, that was what these books were. Augustus Worme flipped open the nearest, deciding it was not worth publication two minutes later. Flinging it aside, so that the manuscript landed into a dustbin that jumped forward to receive it, the Editor of Obscurus Books wondered what had happened to the quality of what is put down on paper.

It had been a while, since he had seen a good manuscript.

Picking up the red fellytone on his desk, he punched in a number. "Put Newt Scamander on the line. I think I might have an offer for him, after all."

Theme # 53: Chase


Bowman Wright had scarcely ever felt much better. It had been his aim, for quite a while, to ensure that cruelty to the poor, golden snidget was abolished, once and for all, on the Quidditch pitch. The tiny animal was cruelly misused there, or so was Bowman's [very valid] opinion. With his invention of the Golden Snitch, he had managed to make what he had been chasing a reality, and win himself some well-deserved fame in the process, too.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, the inventor sat down in peace, to enjoy a nice, steaming mug of tea.

Theme # 54: Dare


How dare these people suggest that his attire was anything but perfectly respectable? Old Archie was outraged! Imagine! One of the people - a Ministry official, in fact - had actually suggested that what he, Archie, was wearing was not proper muggle attire, but clothing that muggle women wear to bed!

Archie wanted to thwack the rest of his supply of perfectly respectable night-gowns into the Ministry official's head, and tell him to mind his own business, not interfere in that of a respectable, old man who only wanted some peace.

These Ministry Officials were bonkers, old Archie knew well.

Theme # 55: Egg on


He had had to face fail failures, of course. It had not been easy, to whip up the potion he had wanted to - and it had brought in controversies.

They had only egged him on, so to speak.

Why would anyone want to oppose a potion that ensure that werewolf transfigurations were less painful, much safer, and no more a huge hazard?

No one but a total fool.

Damocles rose from his workstation. He was sure he had the potion, right now. Years of hard work, and years of failures. But he could tell his labour had finally paid off.

Theme # 56: Fight


Egbert the Egregious, was known for his love of duels. Not above-board duels, either. The type that are lawless or follow little laws, the type that never end in victory that is good or fair.

But when he killed Emeric the Evil, there were not many who were sorry. Emeric was known for his wickedness, known for being a bringer of chaos, as someone who was too powerful to be fought, but too evil to be allowed to rule.

But there was another problem, now - and it ended and began with the fact that Egbert now possessed the Deathstick.

Theme # 57: Gape


The lady who claimed to be a hundred-and-ten years old sashayed into St. Mungo's, ignoring the Welcome Witch and skipping up the staircase.

"Lancelot, boy!"

The very old Healer looked up from his desk, and nearly choked on his coffee. "Muriel," he gaped. "What a surprise." NOT!

Muriel grinned at him. "I think I had too much of the potion the twins left in my bedroom," she beamed. "I feel a little disoriented! Come on, let's give each other HUGS!"

Lancelot sighed. This wasn't the first time this had happened because of Fred and George.

Theme # 58: Hoot


Ogg sat down, cross-legged, on the fresh, green grass in the paddock. It was six in the morning and, in the past, the groundskeeper had used to wake up even earlier, often when the sun had yet to peek out, from behind a frosting of pinkish clouds.

But he was getting old now, and he knew it. The signs of age were wearing him down, slowing his step and slackening his control on the creatures he loved. Even the owls hooted more often, were more boisterous than usual in his presence.

The Headmaster, however, refused to accept his resignation.

Theme # 59: Ignore


"Ericoid, please don't do that."

But the gnome that Xenophilius Lovegood had addressed, completely ignored Xeno's half-request, half-command. It giggled, a very gnome-like giggle that was not pleasant to listen to, and then ran straight into the brick wall, up ahead. Which, of course, hurt the potato-like thing.

Backing off from the wall, the gnome decided it was fed up of being fed, inside. It trotted off towards Xeno, who petted it rather absently, and then proceeded to cheerfully bite the man on the finger. Xeno petted it again.

Ericoid cheerfully bit him again.

Theme # 60: Joke


Mundungus found it the joke of the century. Will had stolen some toads from Warty Harris, only to have them stolen from him by Mundungus, and now the old man was scratching his head, wondering where the toads he had stolen were, as he made ready to buy them back from Mundungus.

It was quite a shame, that Will was still ready to steal at such a age, but business is business, and it was the easiest way for Will, to make a living.

"Five knuts for the lot, then?" the old man asked hopefully, still scratching his graying head.

Theme # 61: Kiss


She had tried. She had honestly tried to win Pollux Black. Irma Crabbe did not believe that her husband had to be a pureblood, or rich - but she had believed he would be Pollux.

But she had tried and lost.

Sitting in the hammock under the large tree in the garden outside his house, she wondered where to go from here. Continue her job. What else?

"Irma?"

She stood up. "Hey, Pollux."

Then he had kneeled down in front of her, and her breath was stuck in her throat -- hands numb -- breathless.

"Irma Crabbe, will you be my wife?"

Love.

Theme # 62: Lope


UGH! Humphrey Belcher crashed a fist into the nearest wall, the moment he had thrown open the door of his office, and stormed inside. He could not believe what the Committee of Cauldron Standards had said! How could they, how dare they, tell him that his idea was worthless, and that cheese cauldrons would never become a standard, the world-round?

Muttering under his breath, he picked up the cheese cauldron that sat on his desk, and flung it through the air. It collided with the door, and cheese splattered everywhere. Great.

Now he had murdered his finest cheese cauldron.

Theme # 63: Mooch


"Mr. Bashir -"

On his way out of the office, Ali paused. "What the heck do you want now?" He snapped.

"You're a moocher," the Senior Undersecretary at the Iranian Ministry of Magic snapped back.

"Oh, and that's professional," the wizard growled, as he picked up the rolled-up flying carpet he had brought along, and stormed out of the place.

It looked like no country was going to allow him to establish a business based on flying carpets. Why, why did these people not get that flying carpets were only family vehicles?

He would win, yet. He would.

Theme # 64: Nap


Cedric yawned, sitting up in the hammock that was his current favourite spot to nap. Rubbing his eyes, the fifteen year old took a few moments to let his eyes adjust to his surroundings. He was, he realized, at home. In the garden, actually. Not at school, and certainly not near the black-haired girl he had been dreaming off.

Trying to shake the thoughts of Cho Chang off, he rose to his feet, to head back into the house and grab himself a bite to eat. He found it harder to forget her than he had bargained for, however.

Theme # 65: Ooze


There was no doubt that Cuthbert Binns loved to be a ghost. He had a peaceful existence, and even money he could contribute to charity. Maybe that was why Dumbledore still paid him, and had even given him a raise.

Of course, he had loved his life as a wizard, too. It had been fun, full of failed potions experiments, sticky stuff oozing out of the crack beneath his bedroom door, and a few detentions. On the whole, a very fulfilling life.

Point?

Professor Binns was enjoying his sleepy, new existence, as much as he had enjoyed the riotous old.

Theme # 66: Pace


Things were not looking up. His efforts had resulted in a goblin-human meeting, and it had ended exactly as he had hoped it would not - a goblin leader had thwacked a goblet in his face and stormed off, claiming that Oswald was no different than any other insensitive human being.

Oswald Beamish would come, in due time, to be known as a pioneer of goblin rights. But, for now, he was but a common individual, the kind that few were ready to listen to. With a frown, the burly man paced up and down his room.

Life was tough.

Theme # 67: Quell


Rodolphus had thought, seriously thought, that she had married him for love. It had never occurred to him that Bellatrix believed she was expected to take a pureblood husband. Had not occurred to him until two days after the marriage, that is.

"Bella, listen to me -"

"You listen to me, Rodolphus," she snapped. Her hand was gripped round her wand and, no mean wizard though he was, Rodolphus Lestrange could not help but feel worried. The last thing he wanted was his own wife to attack him.

But he couldn't pacify her. Her anger could simply not be quelled.

Theme # 68: Roar


The Hobgoblins had started off as a two-member band, the type that plays at small-time parties, and in alleyways. Their fame had grown from there, rather unexpectedly, perhaps for their outrageous lyrics, perhaps for their unconventional style. Whatever the reason, the fact was that the now five-member band was starting to enjoy A-list status, and lead singer and founder Stubby Boardman loved every, every minute of it.

Stepping up on stage, he chuckled at the roar of the crowd. Who had known life could be this generous?

There was no doubt that the singer was ecstatic.

Theme # 69: Slap


".... and the Falmouth Falcons! Spinnet Denton! Karl Broadmoore!"

The commentator's enthusiastic voice rang loud and clear, throughout the French International Quidditch Stadium, as Karl Broadmoore, beater for the Falmout Falcons, shot out of the locker-room, into the air, gathering height before plunging downwards in his signature spiral; which, for all of its predictability, made the crowd gasp in delight.

He raised a hand, to slap his hand against his brother Kevin's in midair - a sign of pre-victory - before kicking off higher, to survey the quidditch pitch through expectant, blue eyes.

Tonight's match should be fun.

Theme # 70: Team


Sir Cadogan had, at one point in his life, been a noble knight. Of course, two centuries later, he was quite forgetful of the fact that he was now a photograph - but, in his own time, the man had been one to be reckoned with, powerful as an individual, and powerful when part of a team.

"Come back, you!" The knight shouted after an eleven-year old Neville, as the latter scurried away, clutching a squirming Trevor. "Come back and fight, you scoundrel!"

If his old order of knights could have seen him now, they would have fainted of shock.

Theme # 71: Untie


"UNTIE ME, YOU IDIOTS!"

The Ministry official standing next to him, a quill in one hand, a notebook in the other, completely ignored him. Herbert Chorley struggled against the cords that bound him for a minute longer; and then, realizing that that was of no use, went back to imitating a rather disoriented chicken.

"Cluck. CLUCK CLUCK. Feed me. UNTIE ME!" He tried to peck at the ground, but the cords held me back. Furious, the Junior Minister waved his arms about. Or tried to. The Ministry official, a wizard, shook his head and let out a cold sigh.

Life.

Theme # 72: Vex


The world had yet to see a person, who could find fault with Kingsley Shacklebolt's work. The auror was, to say the least, one who deserved the status of Head of his department. Of course, he was promoted directly to Minister of Magic, later on; but the point is, Kingsley Shacklebolt was more than efficient - he was classy; could not be easily vexed, or angered; and, most importantly, knew how to tackle the worst of situations.

*

"What do you have to say about the whereabouts of Sirius Black, Mr. Shacklebolt?" the Daily Prophet reporter continued to pester.

Kingsley shrugged.

Theme # 73: Warn


He had not yet risen to fame, as an author or naturalist. Which was exactly why Newt had more than one misgiving, when he stepped into the highly-polished office.

"Sit down," the man behind the desk said airily. He was an arrogant type and Newt could tell, by one look at the face, that this was a cause lost. The man wouldn't be interested in his research. His friends had warned him. Why had he even tried coming here?

"What's your name?" The man asked, rather lazily.

"Newton Artemis Fido Scamander," Newt mumbled.

The man blinked.

"Next."

Theme # 74: X-tinguish


It was hard to believe what the letter said. Faris had expected the promotion, seen it a mile off, and yet he had not fully accepted the fact that he might, one day, find himself the Minister of Magic.

He picked up the official letter and re-read it again, now. In the light of the lamps in his room, it was possible to make out each word, each alphabet, with complete ease. For a while, Faris Spavin read and re-read. Read and re-read.

Then he extinguished the lamps, and let the silence wash over, in quiet waves.

Theme # 75: Yodel


The very idea of outrageous. Percy Weasley crossed his arms against his chest, glaring at his twin brothers across the table.

"I do not!"

"But, Perc -" Fred was clearly trying to keep back a grin, something Percy failed to realize. "It can be our little secret, bro. George and I won't tell anyone, honest."

"I do not!" Percy shouted, hand clenched round his wand, even though he knew he could not use magic outside of Hogwarts, yet. Would not try until next year either, when he would be of age.

"But Perc -"

"I DO NOT YODEL IN THE SHOWER!"

Theme # 76: Zap


Little Pius Thicknesse was, no doubt, an adorable boy. The six year old, who would later go down in history as one of the worst Ministers of Magic London had ever seen or would see, was amazingly cute as a kid, hair thick and curly, eyes extremely bright.

"Is it mine, mummeh, is it mine?" The little boy asked, jumping up and down as he clutched the plastic turtle his mother had gotten him, close to his chest. When Mrs. Thicknesse nodded, he enthusiastically waved the little turtle about.

"I'll call it Zap, mummeh! I'll call it Zap!"

Theme # 77: Cheerful


'Cheerful' and Quentin Trimble, did not go together. The wizard, now forty years of age, had seen too much in his life, to smile properly now. He could, yes, but it was usually a dry sort, the kind that hardly ever turned into a laugh. Often, he was too busy taking everything in, making precise observations, calculating his exact move, to laugh out loud.

It was half past two in the morning, right now. The elderly-looking wizard dipped his quill in ink, and bent down over his manuscript of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection, once more.

Theme # 78: Author's Choice


Wilkie Twycross wanted to bang his head, in a wall. The Head of the Department of Magical Transportation had thought it would be simple, when he had taken up the position, to continue the tradition of annual Apparition lessons, at Hogwarts.

It was much easier said than done.

The last thing that students wanted to do, it seemed to him, was concentrate. By the end of the first class, which was supposed to be only theory, he already had two cases of missing eyebrows, and one of an ex having broken up a couple, on his hands.

Several headaches, too.

Theme # 79: Author's Choice


Heliotrope Willis was not a troll, thank you very much. People who heard of him, often thought he was one. That had nothing to do with his appearance, either. He was tall, rather sturdy, but nothing like a troll, that much was certain. What made people mistake him for one, then, was that he almost always appeared in the news for what was his passion - the troll rights movement.

*

"Mr. Willis, do you have a message for the readers?" The redheaded reporter asked him, as she wrapped up their interview.

"Yes," Heliotrope said, at once. "I'm not a troll."

Theme # 80: Author's Choice


Bozo was in love. With the cheeky smile, the jewelled glasses, the ability to poke her nose into anyone's business - in short, with Rita Skeeter.

"Come on, Bozo, take a picture of me with Mrs. Bontecue," the Daily Prophet reporter's voice said, shaking him out of his thoughts. He nodded, as his camera zoned in on Mrs. Bontecue, the rich lady who had agreed to give Rita certain inside information; and Rita, the love of his life.

Only, he got carried away and ended up snapping half a dozen pictures that completely excluded Mrs. Bontecue.

Was Rita furious!

Theme # 81: Depression
Breaking the Fourth Wall. Mini challenge. <3


When his sister accidentally stepped on his foot, and Ethelred blew up the tree in the garden in annoyance, he probably was not aware that he would, one day, be spoken of as Ethelred the Ever-Ready, a wizard "quick to take offense."

Though this author thinks that, even if he had known, there is a chance he would not have mended his ways. Because he was not willing to accept that he could become depressed or vexed too quickly, or that he loved snapping at others.

Ah, well. Stories are stories, and we shall let such quirky characters be.

Theme # 82: Careful


Careful was not a word that applied to Fingal, the Fearless. If he had thought of caution often, he would not have been who he was - a champion in a sport known for the dangers it set.

The sport of Aingingein, where players endeavoured to fly through a series of burning barrels.

But, of course, no one could deny that, as much as it required a love for risks, a champion of the game also knew that it required one to be wary, at times. Fingal had the perfect mix of care and carelessness.

No wonder he won, every time.

Theme # 83: Fearful


You must have heard of Fulbert, the Fearful.

Fulbert, the Fearful. The wizard who was quirky enough to be scared of anything and everything. Who never left his house. Who never stepped out of his own comfort zone, never attempted to tackle the challenges that life offers us, never endeavoured to grow into the wonderful person he could have been.

Who never learned to risk.

He brought about his own downfall, through unhappy cowardice - the roof of his house collapsed, when a Defensive Charm of his backfired.

The end, no worse or better off than the life.

Only as pitiful.

Theme # 84: Angry


Herpo was furious, and that was exactly why it was raining chickens. The chickens fell everywhere, clucking and trying to grab at the air for support and, when they couldn't find anything to clutch at, they fell on people's heads and sat there, or scampered down shirts and tried to peck at feet.

"What is it, now?" A pretty witch asked, as she sat up in bed.

"Must be Herpo, again," her husband replied, cheerfully. "Let's go back to sleep, dear."



Herpo, the Foul. Creator of the Basilisk and the first Horcrux.

Evil at work, in general.

Theme # 85: Snappish


Savage was exceedingly snappish, today. It was clear he had had a bad night at home, and was attempting to crush the annoyance, by being an all-around idiot, at work.

"Shut up, Savage," Tonks said, exasperated, as her patience finally wore thin after he had yelled at her for the fifth time in the past ten minutes; and, picking up the nearest object - a book - she threw it at his head, to keep him quiet.

Savage ducked, of course. "You're acting very immature today, Nymphadora," he growled.

"I must have learned it from you," Tonks pointed out, dryly.

Theme # 86: Daring


There are times when it is hard, to define courage. To lock it up, in certain parameters, and draw the narrow line between it and cowardice, between it and folly, between it and prudence.

Wilkes, any of his friends would tell you, had been a courageous wizard. He had gone down, fighting for what he believed was true. Gone down, single-handedly tackling five members of the Order of the Phoenix, and even taking down one of them, before he fell.

Ask the Order, and they would tell you he was good-for-nothing.

Tell you he was a coward.

Theme # 87: Plaid


Edgar Stroulger was rich. Edgar Stroulger was famous. Edgar Stroulger could buy himself anything he wanted to, any time of the year.

But he was staring down at his new T-shirt, one that was clearly plaid.

Oh, how he hated plaid.

Oh, how he hated the fact that his mother always, always forced him to wear plaid on Christmas eve.

"Mum."

She looked up, from her knitting. "Yes, darling?"

He sighed. "Nothing."

Edgar Stroulger was rich. Edgar Stroulger was famous. Edgar Stroulger could buy himself anything he wanted to, any time of the year.

Edgar Stroulger was wearing plaid.

Theme # 88: Sweet Tooth


Everard was known for more than one achievement - the healer extraordinaire was a wise man in general, and relied solely on his intellect, and co-operative counsel, to run Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He ran it pretty smoothly, too. The elderly man liked discipline, yes, but was not particularly strict, and sometimes allowed trouble-makers to go free, without detention or punishment.

Oh, and he had a sweet tooth. Mint, candy, fruit flavours, chocolate frogs, strawberry dragons, vanilla fondue fountains - you name it; and, if it's delicious, you would see that he had tried it out, already.

Theme # 89: Past


"Viridian."

Vindictus Viridian shifted in his seat. He knew his knowledge of defensive magic was great, but he had never written a book before.

His best friend had been leafing through the manuscript, and now addressed Vindictus.

"Yes?" he asked, nervously.

"By the time I finish reading the title, I feel like I started reading it in the far past."

The best friend placed the manuscript down, and the name glittered up at Vindictus.

Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More)

Oops!

Theme # 90: Present


The ring was perfect. Not expensive, but beautiful. The band was silver, wiped with exquisite polish, and the little "gemstone" was one no one could actually name, a cheap but beautiful kind picked up, somewhere. But the product, on the whole, was definitely enchanting; and Arthur, the moment he beheld it, knew it would make a lovely present, for his wife.

It had been a while, since he had gotten her any jewellery. Life was hard enough, as it was, without wasting money on what was not necessary. But this, Arthur vowed, he would buy for Molly, this very week.

Theme # 91: Future


Gilbert Wimple chewed his lip, as he looked down at the document in front of him. There was an empty space at the bottom, where he was meant to sign. He could tell the witch who had handed her the quill, a very business-like kind in itself, was watching him, rather intently. He hesitated and then, with the desperate air of a man committing himself to certain death, sighed the paper.

What the future held for him, Gilbert did not know. But he was now an employee of the Committee on Experimental Charms, at the Ministry of Magic, London.

Theme # 92: Chocolate


"Two scoops of the chocolate chip ice-cream, please," the tiny voice said.

Peering down, Florean Fortescue had to smile - the boy who had placed the order was tiny, and did not even reach the counter. Nodding, Florean reached for the ice-cream spoon, scooped out the required amount of chocolate, and poured vanilla on top of it.

"That will be six sickles, sonny."

The little boy beamed and passed over six knuts, all the money he seemed to have on him. For a while, Florean stared at the amount. Then he smiled, and handed over the ice-cream.

"Enjoy."

Theme # 93: Chicken


Gibbon hated it, at Hogwarts. You would think a death eater would be treated with more respect, especially when Harry Potter was no longer at school, and the place was operating under the control of Voldemort. Gibbon had thought so, too. But it looked like little was in favour of them, these days. The teachers who taught properly, seemed to be here only to ensure that the students could get away with mischief. Nobody co-operated, not even the ghosts. Especially not Peeves, the poltergiest.

Oh, and everything the house-elves sent to his office was horrid. Especially the chicken.

Theme # 94: Allergic


ACH-CHOOO!

ACCHH-CHOOO!

"Godric?" Rowena's voice was tentative as, a silken scarf tied round her mouth, she peeked into the founder's room. Her concern was rewarded by another sneeze, this one even mightier than the last.

"You alright?" This was Helga, who had apparently been shaken out of her own work and thoughts by the noise, and arrived to join Rowena, outside of Godric's room.

"Of course not," Godric sneezed. "Who placed those little, white lilies in my vase, this morning? Don't you people know I'm allergic to them?"

Oops.

That had been Rowena.

Theme # 95: Snowball


Lee Jordan was at it, again. Trouble, what else. Though, of course, it was what he termed "fun." His companions seemed to agree, of course. The three of them - two ginger-headed boys everyone at Hogwarts knew, and the only curly-headed fifth year that was Lee Jordan - sneaked up behind a tree, their arms full of huge, freshly-moulded snowballs.

Then they exchanged meaningful glances, and Lee Jordan honked the horn in his hand, to declare snow-war. It had been his idea, after all.

One! Two! More!

The snowballs whizzed past the three, to attack everyone in sight.

Theme # 96: Socks


What kind of joke was this?

Krum had woken up, to a lovely Christmas. Little lights shone down at him, from the ceiling, and the expected pile of presents lay at the foot of his bed, huge and full of glittery, shiny wrappers that curled into each other in a delightful way.

But then he had gotten out of bed, reached for one at random, unwrapped it, and -- and it had turned out to be socks. Stitched socks. Krum frowned, not at all impressed, until he saw the note attached. With love, from Hermione.

His mood brightened up, at once.

Theme # 97: Dictionary


Basil Horton was not a good student, never had been. He could not for the life of him, get good grades. He had only managed five OWL's, and his parents were pretty much ready for him to drop out, any time. He simply was not good at any subject. Textbooks, dictionaries, libraries - he hated them, each with a passion.

This was the man who would go on to play for the Falmouth Falcons, co-create the Horton-Keitch Braking Charm, and lay the foundations of the Comet Trading Company.

Because we all have our talents, only in different ways.

Theme # 98: Pyjamas


The Quidditch team that Angelina Johnson had to put together was, simply said, a disaster. The players that had shone throughout her time on the Hogwarts quidditch team, could no longer be a part of it when she was captain. In the end, she had let herself think ahead, and not look back at the people who had been part of her plans; and, with a sigh, told Andrew Kirke he had made it on to the team, as beater.

What she did not realize, was how ecstatic Andrew was. He actually danced half the night away, in his pyjamas!

Theme # 99: Newspaper


Oh, Levski loved a morning after a well-played out quidditch match. No, not for the break it offered him, but for the fact that he could pick up the day's newspaper, and see himself grinning out of it, hair windswept - just the way he and the ladies liked it.

It was an excellent way, to get an ego-boast.

Of course, Bulgaria did not always win. There were times when he did not get to see himself grin out of the front page, or times when the picture him looked only disappointed. But Levski could handle that.

Usually.

Theme # 100: Homework


"Git."

"Witch."

Ginny glared.

Draco smirked.

She put the textbook she was meant to use as a reference for her homework down, and looked at him, across the table. "You never help me study, Malfoy."

"That's because I'm too awesome to help a common witch prepare for her finals," he pointed out.

"If I'm common, then you don't exist, Draco Malfoy." She was proud of herself. Of her looks, of her grades, everything. Draco knew that.

It only made him smirk again. "I always get the best, don't I?"

She threw the book at him.