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A Proven Fact
It’s a proven fact. Potters do fall for the redheads; James for Lily and Harry for Ginny. Why is this? I have not a clue, and I don’t really plan on answering that question. But what I will look into is how one Potter broke the chain of “redheaded women”. No, not James Jr. Who I’m talking about is Albus. Yes, Albus the little worrywart we met on the platform between barriers nine and ten, going to Hogwarts for the very first time. But I’ll let you figure out the rest for yourself, now. I’m sure you’ll be able to.
“It’s alright, Hagrid, he’s with us,” said Rose soothingly, putting a small hand on the man’s arm. The giant didn’t move, and the redhead sighed. “He’s not like his dad, Hagrid, it’ll be fine. Give him a chance.”
"If I was a Malfoy, where would I hide?"
Sorting and Other Such Dilemmas
“So good of you to join us, Misters Malfoy and Potter, and Misses Longbottom and Weasley,” said a voice that cut through the silence like butter.
Present Outweighs Past (or, To Trust or Not to Trust)
If you can't trust your enemies, you can't trust anyone
But the best reaction was James’...
Rose looked murderous, her Weasley temper rising and making the color in her cheeks darken to a scarlet from their previous pink tinge from the wind. Albus’ fists balled up as he stood behind his taller cousin, his eyes shooting daggers at the blonde haired girl. With her arms crossed, Azalea’s usually calm demeanor melted away as she flicked her long ponytail over her shoulder. Scorpius looked amused.
Matters At Hand
Hermione felt the color begin to leave her cheeks. Slightly shakily, she put the letter back into the envelope and proceeded to put it securely in her back jean’s pocket. She would discuss this with Ron, Ginny and Harry later.
Letters have been sent home and the second Quidditch match of the season looms...
When Green Meets Red
“James looks like he’s going to vomit,” said Rose and Hermione.
“He is being quite the little prick, isn’t he?” muttered Rose. “I can’t wait until I can thump him in Quidditch back home. He needs to remember what it means to work hard for something.”
With a loud fwomp a snowball ploughed into the back of Azalea’s head, sliding down her head and her back, making her shiver and squeal a bit as she packed a snowball of her own in her gloved hands.
The Most is Said in Silence
Azalea gave him her best impersonation of the ancient librarian, Madame Pince. “I don’t recall your being so accepting when you heard your father was hosting the reunion your third year.”
No More, No Less
“Next time, I hope the stone knocks you off your broom into the lake,” called Azalea as Scorpius went back up onto his perch.
Taking her sweet time, Azalea lapped up the mystery and aura of the quiet halls of Hogwarts just after midnight. She expected a lot of the parties would be dispersing, or people would be too drunk to move at least, within the next couple hours. ...The moonlight shone softly through the window panes, illuminating a small nook between a suit of armor and the wall. It looked promising to take a small nap in.
Before the preoccupied George and the slightly woozy Scorpius could tell, Rose was out of the common room. She rounded corner after corner, swearing violently enough to startle a suit of armor halfway down the hallway. She knew exactly who she needed to see.
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