let's get the seven lines. (bookshop) wrote,
let's get the seven lines.
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What Type of Harry Potter Badfic Are You?
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Hahahahahahahaha. Kudos to whoever wrote this quiz, I say. No cheating required. :D

Speaking of which...



(thanks to josh, rach, and mahoney for quick-read betas of this. muah.)

The return to Hogwarts was always worse in the winter. The icy blasts of wind pummeling through Hogsmeade Station greeted the students like a slap as they stepped off the train. The tiny, scant awning of the depot afforded no shelter from the cold or the wind, yet they all huddled there anyway. When the carriages arrived to return them to the castle they made a mad rush to the coaches, even though it was colder inside them than out. They sat four to a carriage; each seat was a bench of cold, hard iron; the windows had great gaping cracks between pane and sills where the wind sliced through and left stinging red imprints across cheeks, as if the flat of a blade had been pressed there. The students would huddle together even more desperately, attempting to cast warming spells against the jolting and jostling of the carriage as it lumbered up the steep hillside, unseen horses clambering for purchase on the icy path.

It was customary during this frigid ordeal, and indeed through all similar rituals such as a Hogsmeade weekend or the boarding of the Express, for the houses to stick close together. Occasionally the lone odd-numbered student would be tagged to form a fourth with students from another house. The Slytherins, who were notoriously protective of their own, liked to subvert this by charming their cabins to shrink so that only three people, or two, could fit inside them. Though the other houses viewed this as a mark of Slytherin stinginess, they dared not take issue with it; in general, even before they were safely within the grounds of Hogwarts, the Slytherins did as they liked.

Consequently, when a particular cabin of odd-numbered Hufflepuffs found themselves making room for Draco Malfoy, they were quite perplexed. Not only was it decidedly rare that Slytherin would lose one of their own this way, but it was next to unthinkable that the leader of the fifth-years, Draco Malfoy, should escape their notice. It was even more unlikely that Malfoy, forever flanked by those two fat bullies of his, should simply wander off alone to make chitchat with other houses.

Yet that appeared to be precisely what had happened. Had any of the Hufflepuffs watched as the boy was deposited onto the train—he did not have a family to see him off, but that was not unusual—they would have noted that he had made no effort to join the others of his house, but had taken the first empty spot he came to, among a group of curious but wary Ravenclaw second-years, and sat quietly, looking out the window for the remainder of the journey. They had seen none of this, however, and so stared at him in unashamed wonder as he climbed into the coach with them and sat, hands folded in his lap, blinking into space as if nothing at all were extraordinary.
It took them several moments of wondering silence while the carriage wheels grinded into motion and the hooves of the invisible thestrals found a steady rhythm against the pavement. At length Ernie Macmillan cleared his throat.

“What gives, Malfoy?”

The other three students winced a bit at the use of Malfoy’s name—it was not a curse or a verboten children’s tale of terror, but it was still unpleasant enough. Its owner however, appeared completely oblivious, so lost in thought was he as he stared out at the foggy, snow-capped landscape. When he did not respond or give any sign of hearing, Ernie Macmillan said again, more politely this time, “Malfoy?”

This time the other boy swiveled slowly around to look at him. For a suspended moment he gave no response still, only blinked lazily at Macmillan. Then, as if someone had flicked a switch inside of him, he snapped to attention; his gaze focused sharply in on the Hufflepuff, his lips parted in a sneer, and he snarled, “Bugger off, Macmillan,” before turning and focusing on the passing countryside once more.

The other three students bristled and exchanged defensive glares with one another, but proceeded to ignore him; this they did so well that he, in turn, appeared hardly to notice them for the remainder of the journey, and remained impeccably silent as the coaches set off on their long climb towards home.
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