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.