#booksmarting

He’s kept his head down since the end of the war. Tried his hardest to stay out of the Prophet. That led to years being cooped up in the manor, usually sticking to his own rooms. 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Draco had a lot to think about, after all, and aside from that he’d been able to delve more deeply into his own interests. He doesn’t pay too much attention to the news-- by now, articles in the Prophet about rumored Death Eater activities make him scoff. He hopes that they’re as unbelievable to the public as they are untrue. Usually, he just skims the paper, never even bothering to read through it fully. But the headline and the picture accompanying it catches his eye. 

Hermione Granger Elected as the New Minister for Magic

He’s quiet for a moment, grey eyes gazing down upon familiar features. She’s grown up now. They both have. Draco has grown beyond the taunts he used to throw her way-- how unpleasant he had been, really, how naïve. The article leaves him with an unsettled sense of loose ends. It’s been years since he’s seen Granger, or any of his classmates. To be quite honest, he’s been avoiding them all. Up until now, the strategy has mainly worked. But now he can’t help but feel as though things have been left unresolved. He really had been an awful prat to her, and for no good reason.

A few weeks later, Draco Malfoy found himself at the Ministry for the first time since his family’s trial. He was, of course, subjected to the usual scrutiny and suspicion that was only to be expected, especially considering his track record. The package he’d brought was swiftly confiscated-- of course, why had he not expected that?-- but, fortunately, after what seemed almost like an interrogation, and having to surrender his wand at the desk (not that he really needed it, so that was fine), he’s permitted to meet with her. 

You should have at least figured out what to say before, he scolds himself lightly, finding himself quite speechless at first-- what is there to say, really?-- before settling on a simple  ❝ Congratulations. On your being elected and all. ❞

     No longer jovial and cheerful was Prince Elrond on his return journey from Ost-in-Edhil. At the helm of a long line of empty chests and carriages, he was grim looking atop charcoal steed. Elven warriors and cavalry lancers flanked his slow pace and it was clear that the Heir Apparent was in deep thought.

     Any and all manner of cheer from civilians and court receiving gifts from said chests had been wiped from his bright countenance once the being Annatar appeared just as Tyelperinquar did. Ichor was aflame immediately, but now Elrond’s temper was slowly settling. However, the anger still itches and scratches against his skin, pulling on old wounds of the soul. Oh, how the War and the dragon’s destruction surface painful memories hidden away from the light of the sun.

                        𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒,  her  eyes  were  quick,  perhaps  even  more  that  human  eyes  could  ever  dream  to  be,  she  had  been  born  a  goddess  and  every  creature,  magic  or  not  would  call  to  her.  eyes  had  cought  sight  of  this  creature  never  before  seen  and  the  goddess  had  quickly  felt  the  need  to  see  more,  learn  to.  legs  ran  quickly  to  follow  such  creature  so  quickly  that  she  had  found  herself  in  a  forest,  one  she  had  NEVER  HEARD  BEFORE,  one  which  the  smell  was  so  different  and  yet  as  good  as  any  other  she  had  felt  or  EVEN  BETTER.  there  was  a  bright  smile  dancing  upon  lips,  while  a  hand  rested  around  a  strong  bow  made  of  white  wood,  she  did  not  desire  to  hunt  such  creature  but  yet  she  was  ready  for  any  danger  such  unknown  place  could  bring  her.

Buzzfeed Unsolved

space  is  supposed  to  be  the  final  frontier,   the  last  leg  in  the  race  for  life,  for  new  beginnings,   for  a  future.      yet  ripley  is  crouching  next  to  the  wall,   half  facing  away  from  everyone  else  because  she’s  definitely  smoking  a  cigarette.     there’s  nothing  particularly  adventurous  about  that.     it  almost  just  plain  sad  and  lonely.     nearly  black  eyes  flick  upwards.    she  was  just  studying  a  spot  on  the  wall,   cigarette  between  her  lips :     it  looks  like  small  spots  of  old,  scattered  blood  drops.    nobody  said  the  wild  west  was  happy  either.

“   dying’s  easy,   living’s  harder.   ”        the  typical  answer,   fingers  flicking  away  ash  from  the  cigarette,   sweat  beading  on  her  forehead.    just  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  room  is  this  large  window,   giving  them  a  view  of  a  sparking  lake  in  the  moonlight  and  this  colony  could  have  been  beautiful :     but  it’s  been  tainted  with  violence.  and  she’s  never  here  if  it’s  the  human  variety. 

It was strange, being back at Hogwarts, especially after all that had happened. Stranger still was the absence of most of her classmates and the presence of so many Seventh Years.

It certainly made doing homework interesting, with more students vying for the same number of books. And of course, the one she needed for her essay was not on the shelf. She scanned the nearby tables to see if anyone had left it out, and spotted it resting open in front of a familiar, bushy-haired girl.