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31_days2007-02-15 04:12 am
lucindathemaid.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2007-02-15 04:12 am
[February 15] [Harry Potter] Happiness is Better
Title: Happiness is Better
Day/Theme: February 15 / candles for the dead
Series: Harry Potter
Character/Pairing: McGonagall, Hermione
Rating: G
Spoiler Warnings: Spoilers for HBP.
It’s the thirtieth anniversary of Dumbledore’s death. On this day, the feast at dinner is exquisite beyond belief.
The Gryffindors turn most of the festivities into a game, shoving food into each others’ mouths and crying out and laughing. Students from one house stand up to move to another table; red sits among green sits among yellow. The ghosts twirl in the artificial sky, and a set of red haired brothers (three years apart, but Weasleys nonetheless) sneaks under the staff table to plant a dungbomb by a hated teacher’s feet.
The head mistress leans forward on her wizened hand, pondering the events of years ago and remembering what had to be lost in order for the battle to continue.
“Headmistress McGonagall?”
The second-in-command beside her tilts her head, and once she’s sure she’s gotten McGonagall’s attention, she asks, “It’s what he would’ve wanted, right?”
The corners of McGonagall’s mouth twitch upward, stiffly, just the slightest. The motion barely resembles the shadow of a smile.
“Yes, Professor Granger. It is indeed what Albus would’ve wanted.”
Day/Theme: February 15 / candles for the dead
Series: Harry Potter
Character/Pairing: McGonagall, Hermione
Rating: G
Spoiler Warnings: Spoilers for HBP.
It’s the thirtieth anniversary of Dumbledore’s death. On this day, the feast at dinner is exquisite beyond belief.
The Gryffindors turn most of the festivities into a game, shoving food into each others’ mouths and crying out and laughing. Students from one house stand up to move to another table; red sits among green sits among yellow. The ghosts twirl in the artificial sky, and a set of red haired brothers (three years apart, but Weasleys nonetheless) sneaks under the staff table to plant a dungbomb by a hated teacher’s feet.
The head mistress leans forward on her wizened hand, pondering the events of years ago and remembering what had to be lost in order for the battle to continue.
“Headmistress McGonagall?”
The second-in-command beside her tilts her head, and once she’s sure she’s gotten McGonagall’s attention, she asks, “It’s what he would’ve wanted, right?”
The corners of McGonagall’s mouth twitch upward, stiffly, just the slightest. The motion barely resembles the shadow of a smile.
“Yes, Professor Granger. It is indeed what Albus would’ve wanted.”