You Were on My Mind

Woke Up This Morning

Minerva woke with a pounding headache. That had been quite the nightmare, trapped in a game of wizard's chess, Order members and students her pieces. She'd run about the board, trying to protect them all. Ronald Weasley, her king's knight, had insisted upon throwing himself into danger at every opportunity. She finally had to choose between protecting him and defending her rook. He hadn't said anything, only given her an angry, frustrated glare and she let him go.

She glanced over at her desk where the returned Head Boy badge reflected the candlelight.

"Do be careful, Mr. Weasley," she whispered.

Feelin' Down In My Shoes

Luna sat on the verge and removed her shoe. She fished out a chip of bluestone that had taken up residence uninvited. It reminded her of Professor Dumbledore and the Owlery, once upon a happier day.

"A raven amongst the owls. Most curious."

"My housemates think I'm mad. Is madness very large?"

He offered her a sweet and took one himself. "Like the Dark Forest?"

She nodded.

"At times, perhaps, but you're no more mad than I. Your unique perspective will prove useful on your journey through this life."

Luna pocketed the stone, replaced her shoe and continued her journey.

Walk Away My Blues

Tonks slipped her wand in her pocket and headed into the night. It wasn't safe, but she had to get out of her dingy little flat, and the crazy worry that wouldn't let her rest.

Think about something else!

Draco. Spoilt brat. Despite the awful events he'd set in motion, she hoped her cousin was still alive. Alive and cold, tired, dirty, hungry and scared. She pictured his blond hair lank and greasy, his pale face pinched from missed meals, his eyes bloodshot with fatigue. The image made her smile.

Perhaps she was a daughter of the House of Black.

Home Again

"The Burrow." Ginny stepped into the fire and was gone.

It had been nice to get out of the house for a bit, even though George hadn't allowed her more than two steps away from his side all day. She'd seen Neville Longbottom at Flourish and Blotts and her first thought was that he'd finally grown into his feet. The boy who'd blushed and stammered as he asked her to the Yule Ball now stood tall and confident.

Hogwarts just wouldn't be the same without Ron, Hermione and Harry, but the idea of Neville as Head Boy was surprisingly comforting.

Wounds To Bind

Hermione swore softly and tried again. Exhausted, she couldn't concentrate to perform the spell correctly. Tears gathered in her eyes as she transfigured leaves and grass into dressings and bandages. That would do to control the bleeding and keep the terrible wound clean, but it would leave a scar.

More scars. Didn't he have enough already? How much was one person expected to endure? And how could it be that 'the brightest witch of her age' couldn't manage a simple healing charm?

"Thanks, Hermione."

She took a deep breath and let go of her injured pride.

"Don't mention it, Harry."