Kira was already born with psychic powers, albeit very weak and limited ones. So her main ability didn’t come until further down the road, where she awakened to them while having a meltdown in the middle of an exam.
The day after the battle, Hermione Granger got up before the sun did. The Lake was covered in fog, and she was used to having somewhere urgent to go, to be, to fight.
She closed the tent flap up behind her. Hogwarts had something like enough beds, but Hermione hadn’t had it in her to climb those moving staircases, to step through the painting’s open frame and make her way to the Gryffindor girls’ seventh year dormitory. Her bed would have been there, months untouched except for the bras and scarves and bottles of sparkly purple nail polish Parvati and Lavender had strewn onto every open surface.
The fog rolled in off the Lake and Hermione stood at the damp shore and shivered until the sun rose and burned it all away.
The day after the battle, they buried their dead out on an island in the Lake, the day after the battle. Madame Pomfrey fretted and hovered, but every injured witch, wizard, and squib made it out to those conjured chairs. They might sit with assistance– with spells, with braces, with a friend’s shoulder– but they sat quiet and they listened to Flitwick read out the names.
The day after the battle, Ron Weasley stood on tiptoe when he stepped back into the Great Hall, looking over a sea of bent heads to find a cluster of red. They’d brought the tables back.
The cluster was only a tiny blip of three– Bill and their parents were flitting about, helping Flitwick float steaming bowls of pasta down onto each table. But Ginny and Percy were sitting on either side of George, keeping up a lively conversation about Gilderoy Lockhart’s hair.
Ginny was sitting half in Harry’s lap, like if she didn’t he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting up to help, or to pace the castle, or to walk out to the Forest and not come back. She was holding his hand, her freckled thumb running over the words written into his skin.
Ron thought about sitting with Luna, instead. Percy tried to laugh at one of Ginny’s jokes, and Ron didn’t know how to be kind like that. Ginny held Harry’s hand. Ron had thought for a long terrible stretch of heartbeats that he had lost two brothers yesterday.
He could sit with Dean. He could walk out to the Forest and punch Aragog in his ugly eyes, because normally when he walked away from everyone he loved it was because he was scared and maybe change was good for the soul.
Ron pushed his hands through his hair. He crossed the Great Hall, swung into a seat next to Harry, and filled his plate with lukewarm pasta.
The day after the battle, Luna Lovegood climbed up to the Astronomy Tower, because it was the furthest she could get away from everything. She laid on her back on the cold stone and cast balls of light and enchanted birds to chase each other across the ceiling until she felt like descending down to the ground again.
The day after the battle, Neville Longbottom went down to the greenhouses to see what the damage was there. He had sat all night and all morning in the infirmary, fetching water for Anthony Goldstein and holding Dennis Creevey’s hand and folding extra blankets down over Professor Sprout’s cold feet. Madame Pomfrey had banished him to go get a spot to eat and some sleep, so he walked down to the greenhouses to see what was salvageable.
Whole panes of greenish glass stood jagged and shattered. Protective spells had put out any fires, but stray blasts of magic had killed beds of vegetables and flowers and taken almost all the silver-green leaves off an olive tree that twisted in the corner of Greenhouse 4.
Neville went in through the door, even though there as a broken hole in the glass wall big enough for him, and almost fell back through it when Hannah Abbott stood up from the row of pots she’d been crouching behind. Dirt streaked every crease of her hands. “Hey,” he said, and let the door click shut behind him.
“Hey.” When she saw where he was heading, she added, “The olive’s still alive.”
The bark was rough under his hand, gnarled from decades of slow growth. He could hear the green magic whispering down its xylem.
“I was thinking I’d try to mend up the walls, close this place up again,” said Hannah. “But I wasn’t sure I could do it alone."
"Alright,” said Neville. When Professor Sprout argued her way out of the infirmary and thumped downhill with the wind throwing her cloudy hair in her face, she found every pane of glass healed and Neville and Hannah asleep on the softest patch of moss in Greenhouse 2.
The day after the battle, Parvati Patil sent an owl to Lavender Brown’s parents.
The day after the end of it all, Hermione skipped lunch and found her favorite secluded corner of the library instead. The chairs stood silent and sober, all gouged dark wood. The high windows threw light gleaming across the polished table, catching on the dust motes drifting through the air above it.
She dumped her carry-all down on it and reached inside– up to her elbows, her shoulders. She tried not to feel like it was eating her alive and she pulled out protein bars and unicorn horn and crumpled wanted flyers.
She wasn’t sure when it had gotten so cluttered– sometime before the night in the ditch outside the little Scottish village with the awesome curry shop. Sometime after the time they hid out from a storm in an unknowing Muggle’s barn, wrinkling their noses at the itch of hay as they ate their dinner. Hermione had taken first watch, listening to the thunder roll over the shallow hills outside, and she’d gone through her bag pouch by endless pouch. Harry had twitched in his sleep with every flash of lightning, but everything in her bag had been where it was supposed to be.
She summoned a wastepaper bin to hover beside her and got to work. Quills and ballpoint pens went in a neat heap to her left. Books she stacked by subject matter around her, except for the ones she flew back to their homes on Hogwarts shelves. She checked potions ingredients for decay, tossed the bad ones and wrapped the good ones back up in their oiled cloth and ziplock bags.
She ate a protein bar while she piled duct tape and the radio and a travel-sized magnetic foldable Muggle chess set and a depleted first aid kit all up around her. She threw the wrapper away and wondered if the smell would ever come out of the bag’s insides, or if she should just buy another one.
The day after the battle, they started putting the stones of the castle back into place. They put bones back together, first, skin and knit muscle and tendons. McGonagall escorted every statue and suit of armor back to where it belonged.
Sue Li sat atop a pile of rubble and ate the biggest chocolate bar she’d ever seen her life. She thought she could still taste a film of Polyjuice on her tongue, but she told herself that was dumb. She dropped little pebbles down the ragged tumble of stones, counting their bounces and calculating averages, until Astoria Greengrass showed up with a glass of water and a pasty and put them down beside her.
Astoria got her hands dirty every chance she got, put her back into sweeping up glass shards or hauling bandages or Wingardium Leviosa-ing stone blocks the size of a horseless carriage. She would stay in the castle as long as she could, finding odd tasks and errands and corners to lurk in. When she finally went back to the Greengrass family estate, it would be to pack her bags, kiss the old house elf on the cheek, and steal her dog away with her.
The day after the battle, Ron went out to Hagrid’s cabin in the stubborn chill of the afternoon and sat in his pumpkin patch. He didn’t go knock on the rough-hewn door, and Hagrid didn’t come out, but after twenty minutes Fang trotted into the yard and patiently got slobber all over his shirt.
Ron watched the sway of the shadows beyond the Forest’s edge. Buckbeak’s old tying post stood among the twining squash vines and their giant fuzzy leaves, the metal ring hanging empty against weathered wood. He thought about Ginny brushing her thumb over Harry’s scars and wrapped
his hands over the pale marks that curled around his wrists.
When the air started biting and the sky started darkening, Ron pulled himself back to his feet and climbed up to the library. He had never lived there, never really liked its labyrinth of stacks and dusty air, but he knew the way there better than he knew the way to the Quidditch pitch or the Room of Requirement or all those other places he liked so much more.
It was empty, except for Hermione, and he was glad. She squeezed her last book into her bag and looked up at him, shoving her hair back off her forehead.
“They doing dinner down there?” she said, her dry throat rasping on it.
He shrugged. “Mum’s organizing, I think. It– helps, I think."
She nodded, looking down to do the clasps up slowly, one by one.
"I just wanted to go back to the tent,” said Ron. “Be alone. It’s quiet."
"I won’t get in your way,” she said. “It’s still pitched down there."
"I know,” he said. “With you, I meant.”
“That’s not alone,” she said. “I’m not quiet,” she said. She clasped and unclasped the bag.
“Words. Accuracy. I never claimed to be the clever one."
"But you are, Ron–"
"Hermione,” he said. “Come with me? You shouldn’t be sitting here alone. Come home.”
They went down the grass through chilling air. Ron could hear his mother in his head, telling him to take her bag and carry it for her, but he just reached out for her hand.
The day after the end of it all, Ron laid on the floor of the tent, counting stitches in the canvas, while Hermione read Hogwarts, A History like she didn’t have it memorized. She read her favorite parts aloud, stopping mid-sentence when the tent flap rustled and opened.
“Ginny’s sitting on Neville until he agrees to sleep in a real bed and not a pile of shrubbery,” Harry said, stepping inside and shutting it up behind him. “She got Luna to help because she says otherwise Luna will just fade into a corner and not come out for food.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m not intruding, right?"
"Don’t be daft,” said Ron and patted a bit of floor next to him. “C'mon, join in, Hermione’s trying to bore me to sleep. I suspect it’s an act of caring concern.” Hermione threw a pillow at his head without looking up from the pages.
The day after the battle, they fell asleep in a tangle in the center of the tent that they had lugged across their country, across these long, cold days of the war. They had danced here to the radio, had chewed protein bars, played chess and bled and yelled at each other.
But the war was over and they were growing into it, slow, staying up too late as they leaned into each other and whispered on this threadbare rug. They meant to wobble to their feet and get to bed, but Harry was clinging to Hermione’s hand and none of them wanted to go.
They would get too old for this– hard floors and the way Harry’s neck was cricked up on Ron’s bony shoulder. Hermione’s snoring would get worse and Ron would have to sleep with four carefully arranged pillows to stop his back from aching in the mornings, but Harry would always have a place here. He had slept on Ron’s bedroom floor at fourteen, leaned on Hermione outside his parents’ broken home.
In the weeks after the battle, Hermione would track down her parents and move back home, and they would all help the Weasleys rebuild the Burrow. Harry would move in Andromeda Tonks’s spare room. “We’re almost like family, after all,” she’d say briskly, shooing him into the house and showing him where she kept the tea, Teddy’s diapers, and the whiskey. They’d come for visits and talk through the night in each of those homes, curled up under Molly’s quilts or out on the Granger’s back porch swing or over fingers of firewhiskey with Andromeda.
In the months after the war, he and Ron would get a flat while they went through Auror training and Hermione would crash there five nights out of seven. Her university textbooks would take over their countertops, shelves, tables, and floor and Harry wouldn’t tease them (too much) for how hilariously long they tried to pretend it was the couch Hermione slept on.
Every home Ron and Hermione lived in, for the rest of their lives, would have a place for Harry– a spare room or a patch of floor or an old sofa. He would know how Hermione took her coffee, and his favorite cereal and Ginny’s favorite oatmeal would always been in the cupboard, and their children would have giggly cousin-sleepovers in magical tents they pitched on the living room rug.
When the kids came shrieking in to wake them at absolutely unacceptable, ugly hours, Ginny would groan curse words they’d repeat gleefully among themselves, but Harry would let them grab his hands in their little sticky ones and pull him barefoot and messy-haired out into the morning.
yeah, well, you know, as thrilling as the next adventure might be, in the end… you’re always left with that same feeling. sometimes you gotta… choose what you’re gonna keep and… and what you’re gonna let go.
to whom loves her next there are a few things you should know.
she doesn’t open up easily or at all. please do not get offended by this. and she may go radio silent for a while but don’t fear she is just lost in her head. she’ll come back to you. she always will. even when you break her heart for the first time, she comes back. and the second time.. she always comes back. she never knows when to stop loving, just like she never knows when to stop over watering plants because she’s so afraid they aren’t getting enough. she also needs constant reassurance so please don’t get annoyed when she wants attention or constant reassurance through out the day. she’s been hurt so many times it’s hard to believe that people could be so cruel to something so beautiful.
she loves to take photographs and she loves to read. she starts reading a book and then she finds another book and starts reading that one cause she’s just so excited and forgets to read the end of the other book so don’t ask why she does that, cause she doesn’t know. she loves animals more than anything so yes that means her two horses, three dogs and chinchilla come first. she’s vegan so make sure you check to see if there’s any milk in the chips or cookies if you buy them for her at the grocery store, which you should. she loves cooking but doesn’t like to clean up the kitchen mess. she HATES dirt. she loves the sky and stars so please make sure you stop to look at sunsets whenever you’re together. she doesn’t talk about her dad but she always wants to. she has a love hate relationship with her mother even though her mother doesn’t know it. child birth scares the crap out of her so she’d rather adopt. she claims she hates kids but once you see her with her little cousin who’s like her little brother the smile she’s wearing when they hug says different. she’s amazing with kids even though she thinks they are annoying. she has big dreams like wanting to end world hunger or becoming an activist. she cries when she see’s animals on the street. also, she’ll bring home animals from the street. she loves her family and friends even though she keeps to herself. she hates stickers and she loves traveling. and when you find her crying into her calms on the bathroom floor at 3 am please do not yell at her and tell her to get over it, instead sit next to her and just hold her hand, she doesn’t want to talk about it. please make sure she takes her medication. in fact stand right there in front of her until she takes it cause if you leave she won’t. she’ll call you an ass and get mad but she’ll love you for it. she loves flowers, especially yellow tulips. she misses her dad everyday. she has a sadness inside her that will never go away so please be there for her even when she pushes you away. her favorite color is blue even though she doesn’t have a favorite color, blue was her dad’s favorite color so when you ask she always says blue. she loves nature and hiking but make sure to make her drink water because she always forget and then feels like shit later on in the day. she hates doing the dishes but doesn’t mind cleaning anything else. she’s an old soul but she has a young spirit and personality at the same time. she has like 10 different laughs and they are all cute but she hates them so please tell her that they are your favorite. please tell her you love her every day because she will say that you don’t. so to the one who loves her next please know she is something so extraordinary that if you lose her you will spend the rest of your life regretting. i know because i am.
Genre: Angst/fluff || soulmate!au / street performer!tae
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Summary: Place two strangers together and give them seven days to fall in love, and they will be soulmates for the rest of eternity, otherwise, neither of the two will come to love anyone ever again; The Seven Days Countdown has always been an old wives tale to you and nothing more, but all of that changes once you meet Kim Taehyung in the midst of a crowd of thousands. From then on, your life is thrown into a race against time, not only on a mission to beat the clock in falling in love with the renowned heartthrob, but also on a quest to make him fall in love with you.
Some more photos from Ami, including another photo with Shizune from the previous day~
Ami writes that Shizune is very much like an angel. Whenever she hits a wall or is feeling anxious, talking to Shizune helps calm her down and makes her feel better. For Sadamomo she writes that even though she’s only one year older than Ami, she’s got that mature, adult charm that Ami so desperately wants. Ami feels like she can depend on her, and on top of being pretty and cute, she’s also very cool, and Ami really looks up to her.
All the reasons I loved this latest Chris and Eva clip:
Brace yourselves, cause this is going to be a looong list. I’m sorry but I’m too far gone for my OTP to care about much else today.
* The way he touches her face in the beginning of the clip.
*Chris’ wide grin plus Eva’s sleepy smile. Honestly, the chemistry between those two is unreal, even in small moments like this.
*“Did you sleep well?” “Mhm.” The whole Jonas and Eva vs Eva and Chris parallel here. Jonas pretty much said that he had a nightmare in which Eva was a whore and CHRIS TOLD EVA THAT HE HAD A DREAM WHERE EVA WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND. Ugh.
*Also, the whole dream was totally made up and I have a feeling that Eva knew it. And she knows how whipped she has him and just…Eva is goals as usual.
* Wow, damn. Another one of Chris Schistad’s reaction gifs is born.
* I honestly feel like Chris is trying to remember his lines when he is talking about his “dream”. And Eva is so amused CAUSE SHE KNOWS.
* He is such a certified nerd while telling that stupid story.
* Chris’ reaction when Eva told him that his dream wasn’t real tho. He was all: “say what now?”
* Eva: “we’re never going to be together” Eva: *smiles* Chris: *tries not to look like somebody just stabbed him and fails*
* “Why not?” I can see that you’re internally crying, Chris. God, the dialogue is gold.
* The way Chris repeats Eva’s words back to her. Such a small thing but mad cute.
*Also, I have such huuuge respect for Eva. She still acknowledges that Chris was a fuckboy in the past and she smiles again when saying it, and it’s so playful, and Eva knows that Chris is in love with her but she’s still protecting her heart and is being reasonable about it all and just…where can I find an Eva?
*Also, telling a guy whose currently naked in your bed that he’s a cheating fuckboy, is NEXT LEVEL.
* The way Eva almost immediately stops kissing Chris, because someone’s calling her. She. Always. Puts. Her. Friends. First.
* When Eva answers Vilde’s call and we can actually see how hurt Chris is over the fact that Eva doesn’t want to be his girlfriend.
* Also, the way he runs his hand over his face is like saying: “damn I messed up with that fake dream I told her about oops”
* When Eva tells Vilde that she is doing nothing special, and Chris looks like he’s about to cry. That boy is so in love, I can’t put it into words.
* All the longing looks towards Eva while she’s talking on the phone!!!
* Eva: “But maybe I can call you later or something.” Queue Chris’ whole face lighting up.
* Chris: “We were talking about getting together.” Lol, smooth.
* That boy has lost all his game and just wants to be together with Eva. Who’s crying? Certainly not me.
* THE PLAYFULNESS.
* The fact that Chris isn’t pressuring her into anything but just wants them to be together but he isn’t pushy about it. I honestly don’t know where the Noorhell shippers get their ideas, when they compare Mohnstad and Noorhell.
* ANOTHER JONAS AND EVA vs CHRIS AND EVA PARALLEL.
* When Eva tried to push Chris off her bed and he didn’t budge an inch, that was a sign.
* I just love how Chris is still his old self on some level, so self-confident and just doesn’t understand why he has to hide.
* Eva being determined not to introduce Chris, so the boy gets up, wraps a sheet over himself, and is just like: “Hi. I’m Chris.”
* Your name is also Chris? ANOTHER ONE, WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE.
* I just noticed that Eva rolls her eyes when Chris is talking to her mum, oh wow. I love this girl.
* When Eva’s mum says that she wasn’t aware that Eva had a boyfriend and Chris looks like he is finally sure Eva will confirm their relationship now but she DOES NOT.
* Also, Chris was totally happy to meet her mum, you can’t tell me otherwise.
* “We’re not together.” “Not yet”
* Eva’s mum’s “you’ll figure it out” is basically the whole fandom’s reaction to this clip.
* Also, all the smiles and the banter in the end of this clip, what can I say, Mohnstad just naturally gravitate towards each other.
* Chris: “Love me.” Honestly, what kind of desperation.
In conclusion: this was the clip of dreams that I never thought I’d see.