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At Dueling Club that year, Hermione ‘set’ a snake on Millicent Bulstrode and every horrified, accusing eye in the room turned her way. She had read enough to know what those hissing words tripping off her tongue meant.

“The Hat offered me Ravenclaw, first,” Hermione whispered glumly to Harry and Ron at breakfast. “I don’t…”

Harry crunched through a piece of toast piled high with sugar. “It offered me Slytherin,” he said, with the tone of someone discussing the weather.

“Oh,” said Hermione. “Harry, I…”

“Huh,” said Ron. “It just called me a Weasley and gave me Gryffindor. I feel minimized.”

—  the brightest witch of her age (a chosen one!hermione fic) by dirgewithoutmusic

Okay but

Musty forest witch Roadhog, living in a small wooden hut in the deep woods. 

He goes out to gather ingredients for his brews and spells and gets followed by a pack of wild hogs everywhere. They lurk around his cabin too, serving as protectors if unfriendlies are approaching. 

The locals are dead scared of him but all he really wants is peace and quiet, so he chases any visitors off quickly by making the approach to his hut as scary as possible. (Mounted skulls, swampy mists and sinkholes litter the path) 

One night, he notices movement in the mist, a faint orange glow approaching. He thinks it’s villagers with torches come to burn him and his hut so he prepares a warding spell, but he’s surprised when he’s faced with a friendly fire spirit instead. 

The fire spirit is mischieveous, but Mako knows it’s not out to harm him. he hears it giggle in the middle of the night sometimes and knows his ingredients will have swapped places again. He doesn’t mind. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be pranked. Mako never really knew what it was like to have a friend, but he thinks he likes it.

At night, the orange glow of the spirit is a welcome companion. Mako often stays up late, brewing or writing recipes and the spirit is kind enough to provide him with the light to do so. It sometimes even points out flaws in his writing. Most of the time though, it’s curled up in Mako’s fur mantle, warm and cosy against his cheek. It’s fire burns bright, but it never hurts Mako. The little sighs of content are endearing to say the least. 

Mako often wanders out in the woods to gather shrooms for his next recipe. He thought he left the spirit safely back home today, but when he’s beset by a bear, the spirit jumps out and forms a protective circle of flames around him, the power chasing away the rabid bear. The spirit, exhausted from the display, is taken back home by Mako, where it can recharge in peace. Mako finds himself worried, lectures the spirit that it should have been more careful. 

“Had to protect you.”

It insists. Mako just sighs and thanks it for saving his life. He realizes he cares for this little troublemaker. 

Curious, Mako attempts to summon the entity behind the spirit one night and is surprised to find it is a young man, who tells him his name used to be Jamie. A forgotten beggar that died in the city streets of starvation, but who’s flame refuses to be extinguished. Jamie’s looking for his final resting place, a grave with no name. Nobody cared to know him then.

Moved by Jamie’s plight, Mako helps him find the grave, but Jamie is reluctant to move on even then. 

“I want to stay with you.”

He claims, and Mako nods. A witch and a fire spirit? There have been worse ideas.