𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with salazar's army

“There's no Dark and Light Magic.
There's just Magic. How you use
it makes it Dark or Light.”

•

I WAS THE FIRST to awake in my dormitory next morning. I lay for a moment watching dust swirl in the chink of sunlight falling through the gap in my four-poster's hangings and savored the thought that it was Saturday. The first week  of term seemed to have dragged on forever, like one gigantic History of Magic lesson. Judging by the sleepy silence and the freshly minted look of that beam of  sunlight, it was just after daybreak. I pulled open the curtains around my bed, got up, and started to dress. The only sound apart from the distant twittering of  birds was the slow, deep breathing of my fellow Gryffindors.

I opened my schoolbag carefully, pulled out parchment and quill, and headed out of the dormitory for the Common Room, hoping to finally pen a letter to Sirius. Making straight for my favorite squashy old armchair beside the now extinct fire, I settled myself down comfortably and unrolled my parchment while looking around the room. The detritus of crumpled-up bits of parchment, old Gobstones, empty ingredient jars, and candy wrappers that usually covered the Common Room at the end of each day was gone, as were all Hermione's elf hats. And then I had a heart attack.

"Harry!" I gasped. He was sitting in another armchair on the other side of the fireplace, distinctly hidden behind the shadows. He jumped too, his glasses tilting painfully.

"Merlin—what are you doing!" he snapped.

"Writing a letter to Sirius—what are you doing hiding in the corners!" I whispered.

"Writing to Sirius," he mused, holding up a parchment. "Sometimes, I feel like he's your godfather, not mine."

"I wish," I rolled my eyes. "I'm stuck with Bellatrix Lestrange for my godmother, the crazy cousin of said cool godfather."

Harry smiled slowly before moving to the big fireplace in the middle. He was wearing a really large jumper, whose sleeves hung off his hands like they were five sizes bigger, and track pants. I couldn't say differently for myself—turtleneck sweater and bermudas. He was also carrying a large blanket around his shoulders. I moved next to him and draped some blanket over myself.

"Do you want to see something?" I asked. Harry looked at me for a second before nodding.

I raised my uninjured hand and pointed it at the unlit fireplace. The wood was still ashen and red. Two logs flew from the pile and landed with a thump in the fireplace with a faint dust of my magic.

"Wicked—"

"That's not it," I rolled my eyes. The I felt my magic roll from my heart, like blood, to my fingertips, burning me a little, like the kiss of a warm morning. Then it poured out and with a little spark in the fireplace, the logs burst into flames in an inferno of warmth. Harry jumped next to me, his glasses actually falling off this time.

"Merlin! What—"

"I've been practicing," I grinned. "I can make elements now. Mostly fire, actually. That's the easiest—"

"Or you have a pyrokinetic streak like Seamus—you know," he turned to me with a bemused expression. "Seamus is quite good. I approve of Seamus. Sirius likes Seamus—"

"Sirius doesn't know Seamus—"

"—maybe you should dump Malfoy and date Seamus!"

"Why would anyone dump Draco for Seamus," I hissed. "No offense to Seamus but I'm not into him when he's so into Dean!"