Not my art, but the work is one of the most magnificent things in this deep, dark and depressing life :)
Neville had been aimlessly walking around the hallways to get back to the dorms after Christmas break, safe to say, Augusta Longbottom was not happy. She even took away his new sword that he had bought off from the black market!
What a snollygoster!
He hadn't really been paying attention to his surroundings, so a result he ended up bumping to someone.
An appalling witch who thought positive emotions were just a drug, something that people get foolishly addicted to. And when that useless feeling is gone, they crave for it, yearning for it, more and more until they snap and give in to that urge. They will do anything to feel that way again, even if they had to go though countless people who step in their way-
"Mr Longbottom," asked the horrid witc- Professor McGonagall.
"Are you alright? You've just been staring at me for the past couple of minutes."
"Just peachy," he sweat dropped as he gave a very convincing smile.
adjective
Dictionary: very-/ˈvɛri/-adverb= in a high degree or a very large amount.
That was not what his face looked like right now.
"Very well," she said. "I was hoping to go give Mr Potter the Firebolt that I had took off you the day he had got it, just to check if there had been any spells that needed to be checked out. But, I wave the been able to see him and so I'm sure you wouldn't mind giving it to him, right? Thank you."
She yeeted it into his hands and swiftly turned away so she could walk (run) back to her quarters, muttering something like, 'I need a bottle of vodka.'
He casually made his way back to the dormitory after a good old two weeks, hoping to see Harry, Hermione and Ron, maybe he could see Luna too?
Not much could've changed, right?
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Oh boy.. how wrong he was.
Apparently according to fuckin' fancy pants (Salazar) over here, Ron and Rowena had gotten into a fight because of their familiars. Damn, talk about dedication for your pets.
Not like Neville could talk himself...
*cOuGh CoUgH* Trevor *cOuGh CoUgH*
An intense glaring battle was held between Hermione and Ron, emitting a uncomfortable aura that raised the hairs on peoples arms. Godric knew because he felt like he got dumped into the North Pole, got drenched in toad muck and Santa refused to give him any presents because he was on the naughty list this year.
"Basically," Salazar whispered, explaining him the situation. "Ron went up the stairs to his room, then ran back down holding a red feather and started screaming on how Rowena's Alerion ate his rat because of the evidence."
"What the evidence?"
"Are you daft dipshit? It's the feather he found," Harry exasperatedly told Neville who made a 'O' shape with his mouth in recognition.
It seemed like it was the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Both were so angry at each other, Harry couldn't even see how they would make it up.
Ron was mad at Hermione for not taking Amara's attempts to kill Scabbers seriously, despite all the obvious proof and the constant slashes made at the rat. Hermione tried to find her familiars innocence by pointing out that the feathers could've have been their since Christmas, since familiars were allowed to say with the owners in the dorms if they want. Even though Neville wanted to point out that all the evidence was leaking towards her, but he knew better than to get onto the end of her wrath and the fact that Scabbers the rat wasn't actually a rat.
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The Return
Fanfiction"OBLIVIATE!" Lockheart bellowed, pointing the taped up wand at the one Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. A flash of memories sped through Harry's eye's. His memories of his past life, his life as Salazar Slytherin. What if in Harry's past life, he was S...
