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Fairs and Seer Cassandra
She didn’t know. She wished she had, later, as she tried to avoid the inevitable, as she held up an umbrella to try and stop a tsunami, but by then it was too late anyway. Still, she didn’t regret most of the choices she made. Knowing, understanding, there was little she’d change, she was fairly sure. Granted, the little could have proven useful, but she didn’t make a habit of crying over spilt milk, even if, in the end, spilt milk was something she’d rather have gotten instead.
Potter and The Plans
To James, Voldemort was nothing other than a moral paradox. What he was doing was bad, and evil, but what had a seventeen-year-old anything to do with it? He was pureblood. He could perfectly stand quietly aside. Instead, he decided to jump into all the mess and the paradoxes and be dumb and make a loud target of himself. She didn’t care to admit that it brought up a little bit of respect she didn’t know she was capable of having for him.
Mum and Hogsmeade
Where was she, where boys who called themselves ‘Marauders’ lay on a deserted road because someone who convinced and manipulated and dark-charmed people away from right and wrong and morals and principles wanted a change that would make more boys like Peter end up right there with him? Why was she fighting his follower, how come she was fighting for her future life now, how come she had to fight for her life at all?
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