#mandmstart

“Oh my god, thank you. I mean I could literally kiss you right now!” 

There were footsteps behind her, but Pandora paid them no heed. She was clutching her book-bag tightly against her front, the bag heavy with the weight of the potion vials she had swiped from Slughorn’s private cupboards.

Why anyone would spend a rainy November morning anywhere else but the library, Finn did not know. 

“Someone tell me something interesting before I go on a homicidal rampage”

Doris helped herself to a third serving of treacle tart. When she spoke, it was between mouthfuls of syrup and breadcrumbs: “This is the best treacle tart in the history of treacle tarts. If I die while eating it, I want it left in my throat. This baby is following me to the afterlife whether it wants to or not.”

The land is soft and sweet but filled with vipers. The words had tempered him, leaving him hollowed and vulnerable in depths he couldn’t even recognize. At hinsight, Archer seemed untouched, untarnished, completely sane but it was not often the case when he walked the halls by himself. His eyes were dull, his lips drawing a thin line on his visage leaving him blank. It was though he was void of any human emotion, his reflection unrecognizible through any surface where his reflection was unavoidable. He was hoping to drown out the noise that followed, the student body’s ferocious whispering and merciless yapping driving him mad. He had to bite his tongue to avoid screaming out loud in frustration, “I’m sorry.” He’d only felt a light bump to his broad shoulder, “I was just trying to get to class.”

“I know it seems crazy after everything that has happened lately, but I really think we should have a bonfire night or something. Some kind of thing where we all just get out and enjoy ourselves and be teenagers for once. It could be really fun if we let it. I think we could all really use the night off, you know?”

          Against the east wall of the Great Hall, the table that had held the snacks and various party favors the night before had been cleared of the festive food and now held lunch items.  Regulus had scanned it sometime earlier,  but couldn’t dream of even touching food--his stomach churned at the idea.  Instead, he sat slumped on his cot against the opposite wall, fingers running over the chains on the blue jeans that had been part of his ghoul costume that most people hadn’t even really seen until earlier that morning.