Keep Calm and Conjure a Patronus Charm (boywizard) wrote in afic, @ 2011-06-04 11:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: harry potter, character: luna lovegood, player: jo, x player: abigail |
Who Harry Potter & Luna Lovegood
When Saturday, June 4th
Where Godric's Hollow. Harry and Hermione's flatshare
What A visit from a friend!
Rating G (PG, for Harry's language?)
Status Incomplete
The kitchen floor was on a bit of a slant. It wasn't enough of one that you'd notice it really, unless you put your wand on the kitchen table, because then it would just sort of roll towards you. The slant also made the table a bit wobbly. Harry'd thought it was just the table at first, and tried to prop it up with a few sickles, but then he noticed that if you left grapes on the counter, they'd damn well roll off too.
Yes, he had more important things to thing about than the leaning state of his kitchen, but at the moment--with Hermione out doing the shopping, he was bored.
He didn't like all this sitting around business, but he wasn't sure exactly what he should do yet. He knew that speaking out against the Ministry would change a lot of things, but he also knew that if he did something that drastic, people could get hurt. He didn't want any kind of fight on his hands--
Well. That wasn't entirely true. He did want a fight on his hands. Frankly, he didn't know what to do with himself when he wasn't going up against something else. He'd been doing it all his life. Up against Dudley, his larger cousin with a mean fist, then up against Voldemort since he was eleven years old. He'd thought about leaving that all behind after the war and doing something tame and quiet with his life, but couldn't manage it. He missed the action, and so becoming and Auror had just felt right.
Until the Ministry went bleeding bonkers.
So now, the issue was that Harry wanted to fight, but he didn't want anyone else hurt. and as apt as he was sure that he was at being a one man army, he knew enough about his friends to know that no one would left him stand alone.
A gentle tap at the door jerked his attention away from his table, and the wand that he'd been using (his own, traced, he'd put away in safe keeping) clattered to the floor. Hermione wouldn't have knocked (and she wouldn't have forgotten her keys either, because she was Hermione Granger, and she remembered more than a bloody elephant. Especially when it came to whose turn it was to do the dishes).
He reached down and picked up his wand, gripping it tight before giving a friendly shout of 'it's open'.