Chauchau



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    They have Shepard’s pie for dinner. Ron and Hermione watch Harry fill up his plate and only start serving themselves when he picks up his fork and starts eating. Neville laughs into his wine glass.

    “How are you dealing with their mothering, Harry?” he asks.

    Ron opens and closes his mouth for a minute, groping for an excuse. Eventually, Ron says, “He’s just so small, Nev.”

    “Hey,” Harry says. “I’m seventeen. I’m an adult.”

    Ron shakes his head at Neville. “My best friend is an infant.”

     

    A curse regresses Harry to his seventeen year old self, physically and mentally. He doesn’t recognise this strange peaceful wizarding world, but there are two people he does recognise: Ron and Hermione. Based off this tumblr post.

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    18 Feb 2019

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    Murder first, apologies later is a perfectly legitimate plan in Tom’s mind. Harry disagrees.

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    17 Feb 2019

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    A bit of a holiday fic

    Sure friends helped each other out when they had problems. Harry just wished Tom’s problems weren’t so damned complicated. Why couldn’t the other get some other poor soul to play the part of his fiancé?

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    17 Feb 2019

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    "I don't mean to pry," Newt continues. "I just smelled some chamomile on you this morning. Sorry, I know it's none of my business."

    This morning, when he had just received his new sleeping aid... Newt had noticed. Percival isn't sure what to say. No one has spoken to him so openly in years, not even Picquery.

    "I'm really, really sorry. I'll shut up," Newt says quickly, having mistaken Percival's silence for annoyance.

    "No, Newt, it's alright," Percival finally says. "Thank you for asking."

    Thank you for noticing.

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    16 Feb 2019

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    15 Feb 2019