Hogwarts Mystery Fictober

Rules Prompts 2020 Past Prompts

[hphm-fictober]

Here is the list of prompts for Fictober 2020. Feel free to use this or any other fictober/inktober prompts from this year or previous years. Don’t forget to tag this account (using @) and to indicate from which list of prompts the prompt you used comes from. Past prompt lists can be found HERE.

You have more than the month of October to complete these. As far as I’m concern, you can complete them whenever. This list is mostly so that writers don’t feel excluded while Inktober is going on. Fics, blurbs, headcanons, dialogues; all are accepted. If you have any questions, feel free to DM @mizutoyama​ .

Travel

Wonderful

Red

Desire

Change

Wind

Sorrow

Learning to fly

Time

If I didn’t have you

Starlight

Victory

Duel

Ice Cream

Monster

Dessert

Library

Heartbeat

See you again

Party

Enchanted Evening

I’m sorry

Training

My way

Mystery

Dangerous

If Only

Rotten

Not what it seems

Something wicked…

This is Halloween

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

Gone Garotas

A/N #1: Here is another fic for the Brazilian series! Now, before you read this I would just like to do a little disclaimer of sorts: Alanza’s opinion of the favelas are not my own nor do I believe it is the one of everyone in Brazil, but that prejudice does exist. I would also like to thank @angellazull​ for giving me some advice as to how I should go about talking about favelas. For more info on my research into favelas, check out the author’s note at the end of this fic.

Here are the other fics of the series: Hottest Spot South of Havana (Part 1) | Hottest Spot South of Havana (Part 2) | A Wonderful Surprise | História | Feliz Ano Novo!

Fic Playlist (If you don’t want to listen to the entire playlist, I recommend litening to at least “The Girl from Ipanema” (Sinatra & Jobim), “Eu Sou Favela” (Bezzera da Silva) & “Soldado do Morro” (MV Bill))

Alice’s outfit 

Keep reading

[starrs-fanfics-deactivated20221]

Alphabet challenge

Chapter 2= falling deep

As sonnet and Talbot walked to the Great Lake hand in hand,they both sat down and talked and talked about the stupidest things like if holes were good for Swiss cheese or what if penguins could fly.Sonnet loved these conversations the most she found them the most meaningful,the day after there las o.W.l they sunbathed under the wamping willow and shared a sneaky kiss to. Two months later: Talbot wanted to surprise sonnet by talking her swimming, there was a little lovely beach just outside there cottage,so he put his hands over sonnets eyes and led her to the beach,as soon as she saw the lovely beach she jumped up and down with excitement and gave Talbot a great big hug and quickly changed into her swimming costume and run into the water Talbot followed swiftly,sonnet splashed Talbot and soon they had a splash war “we are really immature aren’t we” he joked “of course not” sonnet replied and Talbot never knew when she was serious. The days at the beach were the best of talbots and sonnets life’s and they were ready to start a life together.

[starrs-fanfics-deactivated20221]

Alaphabet challenge

Chapter 1 = timeless

As Talbot was walking after his date with sonnet,he had a thought I believe in monogamy.Talbot had not thought about it which was a odd feeling to Talbot because there was very few things that Talbot hadn’t thought about or so sonnet said anyway. He thought about his romance with sonnet and how time was precious and he should saver every moment with sonnet,and then went to bed.sonnet on the other hand her night was just beginning,she was planning to propose to Talbot, and wanted to spend her life with him in there timeless romance. She wanted in every part of her soul to continue their dates in haggis’s garden the romantic nights in the astronomy tower and most of all she wanted Talbot. At 11 I clock they snuck up to the astronomy tower and that were she proposed to Talbot, now you might find it untraditional for the female to propose but being the sort if gal sonnet was she just didn’t care so she did it. She just wanted to relive the night were Talbot said yes fovever

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

A Wonderful Surprise

A/N #1: This is fic #2 of the Brazil series. It was inpired by the ! prompt of the 30 days OTP alphabet challenge as well as Prompt #2 of Fictober 2020 by @hphm-fictober​ . You can find Alice’s outfit HERE, and the suggested music HERE. (Here are Part 1 & Part 2 of the first fic of the series.)

Keep reading

[cursed-ice-queen]

@hphm-fictober Day 4: Desire

Megan tripped over her feet as Rowan continued to pull her down the corridor. “Come on!” she was saying. “We’re so close!”

Rowan had run into their dormitory just a few minutes ago, saying that she found something incredible and that Megan had to see it immediately. She wouldn’t tell Megan what it was, but told her repeatedly that it was well worth getting in trouble for.

It was getting close to curfew now and they were risking detention. That didn’t deter Rowan as she pulled Megan into an empty classroom. Megan looked around the room. Aside from an old mirror there was nothing particularly interesting in there. Rowan pointed to the mirror standing against the wall. “Look into that mirror! And tell me what you see!”

Keep reading

[cursed-ice-queen]

@hphm-fictober Day 2: Wonderful

For what seemed like the umpteenth time Jacob straightened his bowtie. He was having serious second, third, and even fourth thoughts about coming to the Celestial Ball. It sounded like a great idea at first; go with Duncan and spend the whole night together away from the drama of the Cursed Vaults. Focus solely on their friendship and remember why they were best friends.

That had been the initial idea, and what Jacob had written home to his mother and grandmother. He even repeated his plan to his grandmother Nonna when she surprised him in Hogsmeade to buy him his dress robes. He remembered the happiness in her eyes when he stepped out in his teal coat and mustard vest, the pride in her voice when she straightened his bowtie and said, “Duncan is very lucky to have such a nice, handsome boy as his date.”

That had been the idea…until Duncan decided to find a different date.

Keep reading

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

Hottest Spot South of Havana (Part 2)

A/N #1: Part 2 is here! It’s finally time for the beach! Inspired by the B prompt of this challenge. The song that inspired part of this fic is “Itsi bitsi, petit bikini” by Dalida. You can find Alice’s outfit HERE. (Part 1 is HERE.)

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[hphm-fictober]

2020

30 Day OTP+ Alphabet Challenge

2019

HPHM Fictober 2019 

HPHM Inktober 2019 

HPHM Fictober/Inktober Prompts 

2018

HPHM Fictober Prompts 

HPHM Fictober Halloween Special Prompts 

Hogwarts Mystery Inktober

HMInktober

[unfortunate-arrow]

Day 20: T - Token.- Sara and Barnaby

[Link to the challenge here.]

[Person A gives person B and/or C+ something of theirs. Or arcade tokens. Or both??]

The wind blows gently, making the water of the Black Lake ripple. OWL exams had finished earlier that day, and the fifth year students were all breathing a deep sigh of relief. Sara lay on the grass, her head in Barnaby’s lap. They haven’t officially started dating, which just means that none of their friends and Sara’s siblings know that they’ve kissed a few times and spent some alone time together. 

He’s playing with her hair and her glasses are tucked into a shirt pocket. Sara sighs softly. She’s not exactly looking forward to another summer with Uncle Doyle. At least it won’t be nearly as bad as the previous summer, as she and her siblings don’t have a giant year long detention hanging over them. She knows that Barnaby has similar feelings about going home, and his parents almost certainly must be worse than her uncle. And to top it off, he doesn’t have three awesome siblings to lean on. 

“You alright?” Barnaby asks, gently. 

“Yeah. Just thinking about the summer holidays. I’m not thrilled to be going back to Uncle Doyle,” she says. 

“Yeah. I understand that. Isn’t Conor doing something with muggle things?” 

“Yeah. He’s doing a crash course or something in math and physics at the closest muggle secondary school.” 

“Ah. Why does he want to learn over the summer?” 

“He wants to be an architect.” 

“What’s an architect?” 

“They design buildings and stuff.” 

“Why does he want to do that?” 

“I don’t know. He’s always been interested in it.” 

“I guess he’s in Ravenclaw for a reason.” 

They fall silent again. Barnaby’s fingers still run through her hair. The wind blows through again and Sara shivers. She’d ditched the robes and a sweater because of how warm it had been earlier, but as the wind blows across the water, she shivers again. Barnaby moves slightly, and the sweater he’s wearing suddenly appears in her view. 

“Here,” he says, offering her the sweater. 

“Barnaby, I can’t take your sweater,” Sara says. 

“Please. You’re cold. I don’t need it. I want you to have it.” 

“Barn, I don’t want you to get in trouble for losing a sweater.” 

“I don’t care, Sara. It doesn’t matter. I’d like you to have it.” 

Sara sighs. “Okay. I’ll give it back to you at some point.” 

“Keep it.” 

Sara sighs and ignores him. She takes the sweater though, and pulls it over her head. It smells like him, like soil, and something that’s distinctly masculine, rather similar to the way her brothers’ shirts smell, but a lot different and a lot more pleasant. It’s also a little big, given that Barnaby is nearly a head taller than her. It’s a lot less annoying having him be taller than her than it is having Ryan and Conor be taller than her, though. 

“Wow.” Sara blinks up at Barnaby. 

“What?” she asks, feeling suddenly self-conscious in a sweater that dwarfs her. 

“Sorry. It looks really nice on you,” he answers and Sara swears he mutters “a lot nicer than I expected.” 

Sara feels the heat rise into her cheeks. “Thank you.” 

“Keep it, please. Think of it as an early birthday gift.” 

“Barnaby, my birthday is towards the end of August. It’s barely June.” 

“So? I said early.” 

Sara sighs, and pushes herself up to kiss him. It’s soft and sweet and short. I’m going to lose this argument. Maybe it shouldn’t matter, Sara thinks. 

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

A Momentary Lapse of Duty

A/N #1: Finally, the concert fic is out! So, this author’s note will mostly be links to things that will make the fic more enjoyable.

Luna Silver headcanons: Hat | Car | Watch 

Pink Floyd Concert: Set List | Concert recording | Playlist of the studio recording of the songs | Venice Concert broadcast (a shorter version of the same concert that was broadcasted)

Outfits: Alice | Luna (basically)

Keep reading

[drinkyoursoupbitch]

30 Day OTP Alphabet Challenge

Guess who’s back, back agaaaaain?

You can find the challenge here!

Day 20: T - Token. Person A gives person B and or C+ something of theirs. Or arcade tokens. Or both??

January 3rd, 1993

“My gran made us cocoa!” Wendy announced, using her toe to nudge open the door to one of Damh Manor’s many guest rooms. Ben, who had been staring at his suitcase with hands on his hips, looked up from where he stood on the other side of the bed.

“And, three marshmallows for you, at her insistence.” she added with a wink, handing over the steaming mug.

“Brilliant.” He smiled, turning back to consider the contents of the luggage in front of him.

A twinge of sadness nagged at her at the reminder that, now Christmas was over, they would inevitably be continents apart in a short time. How lonely would it be, now that she had something so real to tie her heart back home? She pushed away the thought.

“How goes the packing?” she eyed him over the rim of her own cup before taking a sip of the rich liquid. He looked as though trying to decide something.

“S’all right,” Ben mumbled into the cocoa. “I, um…” he reached into the luggage and pulled out a red knitted jumper. It was one of Mrs. Weasley’s; her signature Christmas gift to people she deemed ‘family’. Wendy had one of her own stuffed into a bag in the room across the hall.

“This doesn’t fit anymore, and…well, I won’t be needing it, seeing as Molly made me a new one this year.” Ben weighed the article of clothing in his hand, quite obviously attempting to be nonchalant. “You wouldn’t happen to want it, would you?”

Wendy couldn’t help but smile broadly as a wave of giddiness flooded her chest, replacing a little of the loneliness that had already settled there. “I’d love that, yeah.” Their hands brushed as he passed the jumper, sending a thrill through her body.

She had stolen a few of his personal belongings in the past - a red and white track jacket; a few quills; a handkerchief from 2nd year that still floated around in her work luggage. Well, stolen wasn’t quite the right word - more like borrowed and conveniently forgotten to return. But, this was something else entirely: a token of their brand new relationship that was quite obviously his.

Something between overwhelming shyness and childish excitement crashed over her as she set aside her mug to pull the knit over her head. It fit just about perfectly, and the soft fabric smelled faintly of his cologne and clean laundry, scents she’d come to associate with him over the years. Wendy did a little spin and held out her arms, “What do you think?”

“I like it.” A pleased, bashful grin spread across Ben’s face, as he shoved one hand in his pocket, and glanced between her and his cocoa. “You look good in my clothes.”

A flustered giggle escaped her as a surge of warmth rose in her cheeks. “Heh, thanks.”

 Never in the last eight years had they been quite so shy around each other as they had in the last week. They quite fancied each other. And, now that big secret was out, everything was suddenly fluttery butterfingers, and longing stares, and clumsy attempts at flirting.

“Out of curiosity, if it doesn’t fit, why’d you bring it with you?” she asked, climbing onto the bed to sit behind the suitcase and watch the packing process.

“I, uh…I admit I had some hopes.” His ears were turning pink as he busied himself with folding the clothes that were still out in the small pile on the bed.

“Oh, I see.” Wendy teased, waggling her eyebrows at him. “So, you had been expecting to get a girlfriend for Christmas all along, had you?”

“I’ve been hoping for that for years.” Ben chuckled, avoiding her gaze, “But, I was hoping to finally have an answer about us, whatever it might have been. Though, to be honest, I hadn’t planned to say anything quite as soon as I did - certainly not on Christmas Eve of all days - just in case you weren’t…well….”

“Thoroughly smitten already?”

He glanced up to give her a look so tender it made her stomach flip flop. “I was quite prepared to be shot down, too. I’d spent hours going over and over what I’d do if you weren’t interested.”

“And, what would you have done if I turned you down?”

Ben straightened up and studied her for a moment. “Eight years is a long time to fancy someone. I was beginning to believe that if you didn’t care for me now, you might never.” Suddenly, Wendy wasn’t so sure she wanted an answer to the question. He shook his head, “I probably would have let that be the end of it, and finally gotten around to moving on.”

It was her turn to avoid his gaze by focusing intently on the slowly melting marshmallow in her mug. Now that she was certain of how she felt - now that she had found him - the thought of being so close to losing him was painful. Silence fell between them as he finished packing.

“What about you?” he asked, moving the suitcase to sit beside the door and sitting down on the bed next to her. “What would you have done?”

“If you weren’t interested? I dunno…” Wendy looked up to find his lips were just centimetres away from her own. “I hadn’t gotten that far…to be honest.” Her heart thundered in her chest.

“Good thing it worked out so well then, huh?” he said with a twinkle in his eye, their lips just brushing with each word, “For both our sakes, and the sake of this jumper.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want it to sit unused, would we?”

“Oh, certainly not.” Ben took her cocoa mug and set it on the floor. And with that, she flung her arms around his neck and laid back on the bed, pulling him down with her for a good snog.

[drinkyoursoupbitch]

30 Day OTP Alphabet Challenge

There’s a little reference to something else I wrote a while back about skipping rocks on the Black Lake. If you want a reference point for Wendy’s timeline, this falls somewhere in here, before her term in Romania.

You can find the challenge here!

Day 19: S - Smooth. A taste, texture, a pick up line. Anything as long as it’s smooth.

There is something beautiful about the ocean on cloudy mornings. Wendy has heard others complain, calling overcast mornings ‘dreary’, but she finds them refreshing. The black rocks crunch pleasantly beneath her boots as she steps off the wooden stairs that lead to the beach. A delicious salty must fills her lungs, evoking nostalgia for her childhood spent at Damh manor. 

It’s early - abnormally early for Wendy to be out of bed. Barnaby and Madam Pottlesworth are still fast asleep in their rooms at the little inn behind her. Seeing as her body couldn’t be convinced to sleep any longer, a walk on the stony beach seemed like a better option than laying in bed until breakfast time.

Besides, she could use a little time alone with her thoughts. I’ve certainly fancied people before, but not like this, she smiles to herself, squatting down to inspect a tiny hermit crab skittering over the rocks that litter the shoreline.

She picks up a smallish stone and runs her fingers over the rounded edges. The black surface is worn smooth by years of perpetual motion in the pounding waves. She can almost hear him say, “Now, this is a perfect skipping rock.” Looking up towards the shoreline, it’s easy to picture him pulling back and deftly hurling it towards the surface of the water, the way he used to down by the Black Lake. Funny how, suddenly, everything that has to do with him is significant - no matter how small.

Wendy stands, continuing her walk along the water’s edge. How she feels is unexpected yet, somehow, not surprising. There’s already a little space dedicated to him in her head. It’s probably been there since their first year at school. A few weeks ago, she would have been embarrassed to even consider it, but…

Truthfully, I’ve loved him for a long time.

She smiles impulsively and stops to dig the toe of her boot into a patch of wet sand that peeks out between the rocks. Her cheeks feel suddenly hot against the cool, salty breeze. It’s surprisingly easy to be embarrassed about the contents of her own mind these days.

It certainly wasn’t romantic at first - that’s a recent development. But how she cared for him grew beyond brotherly affection years ago. It became something rather like loving a part of herself - important, vital, almost like breathing.

Maybe these are just ramblings of a newly smitten mind, though. The stone in her hand flips over and over as she fidgets idly with the smooth surface, considering. Tossing the stone up and catching it again, she decides that even if they are, they’re very nice ramblings.

Winding an arm back just as she would a quaffle, she lets the stone fly at the waves. It soars through the air in a perfect arc before falling in with a satisfying plunk. She never could quite get the hang of skipping rocks, no matter how many times he patiently tried to show her.

Turning to walk back the way she came, a wave of giddiness bubbles up from somewhere deep in her chest. She can’t resist doing a little spin and a skip.

What will come of this, she can’t say. Their friendship has blossomed into something new and lovely, and it makes her head swim with delightful thoughts that she never knew were possible. She has no idea if he even feels the same way about her. But, for the moment, she’s content with the butterflies and thoughts of a boy with golden hair.

[drinkyoursoupbitch]

30 Day OTP Alphabet Challenge

I’m sticking to my claim that this is a 30 story challenge, not a 30 day challenge *cough cough* Uh, for context, Wendy has a phobia of thunderstorms for reasons

You can find the challenge here!

Day 18: R - Rain. Are the otp+ caught up in the bad weather, cozy inside, or are they somewhere like on a space ship or in the middle of the desert yearning for a good storm?

Of all the things Benjamin Copper is scared of, at least thunderstorms are not among them. In fact, he actually quite enjoys storms. There is something soothing about all the violent noise that quiets the inside of his head, clearing a little space among the anxious mess to let him just think.

Even lightning is something to behold. He has fond memories of rainy afternoons spent in his nan’s kitchen, watching for lightning out the window and listening to old records while something delicious baked in the oven. Sometimes on particularly stormy days, he can almost hear his nan’s voice, singing along to her favorite songs from the last great war.

Ben looks up from his novel to watch the squall outside through the large window. The angry clouds darken the afternoon, giving the castle grounds an appearance of nighttime. A flash of lightning illuminates the world outside in a moment of brilliant, white light. Terrifying, yet beautiful, he marvels, glancing over at his companion. Or perhaps terrifyingly beautiful.

On his right, Wendy is hunched over with her nose buried in an arithmancy textbook, the hood of her track jumper pulled up so far that only her eyes and nose peek out. Well, actually, his track jumper, but she borrowed it a month ago and bringing himself to ask for it back is proving impossible. 

The rhythmic bouncing of her knees shakes the long table a little as she idly twirls a quill between her fingers. He could swear she was staring at the same spot on that page ten minutes ago. A particularly loud thunderclap causes the girl to jump and knock a book off the table with an almost deafening thud.

“SHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Madam Pince hisses from her desk at the other end of the library.

“I’ll get it.” Ben mouths, bending down to retrieve the book from the stone floor. His friend smiles gratefully, and replies with a silent “Thanks.”

“Good thing I’m not out playing in that,” she whispers, her pretty blue eyes flickering nervously past him to the window as a fresh gale buffets against it. The house match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor was cancelled for the day, and she had been uncharacteristically pleased by the news. Ben nods. A good thing indeed. The last time Wendy was made to play in a storm, she broke both her legs.

The red and white fabric of his track jumper rustles as she pulls it a little tighter around herself, shrinking back against the chair. “It’s just a little rain.” she whispers shakily under her breath to the textbook.

It isn’t very often that anyone sees Wendy ‘should’ve-been-a-Gryffindor’ Gordon this anxious. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he might assume nothing in the world could shake her. At least half the school certainly did. But he does know better. He knows what thunderstorms mean to her, and that is why he is spending a Saturday afternoon with her in the library, despite having finished his homework for the week yesterday. After all the times she has been there for him, he can’t very well leave her by herself on a day like this.

Ben scoots his chair to close the gap between them, and presses his shoulder into hers. “Are you alright there?”

“I’ve been better.” Wendy whispers sheepishly. Glancing around to be sure Madam Pince is nowhere nearby, he reaches into his book bag to retrieve a chocolate frog box. He slips the sweet onto her book with a reassuring smile.

“Are you sure you’re alright to hang around like this?” her face is apologetic.

He waves his novel at her cheerily. Seeing her unconvinced expression, he impulsively takes her hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m staying here as long as you need me to.” 

To his surprise, Wendy does not let go. Instead, she laces her fingers through his and pulls their hands into her lap, finally relaxing a little. Butterflies flutter somewhere in his chest as he turns back to his own book. No, he will not be going anywhere.

[unfortunate-arrow]

Day 23: W - Wish.- Cara and Rowan

[Link to the challenge here.]

[Make a wish!]

“Happy birthday, Cara!” Rowan exclaims, making her girlfriend jump a little.

“Ro, my birthday isn’t for a few days,” Cara says. 

“I know, but your birthday is never just us. We always do something with your siblings and their significant others and our friends. I wanted to do something for you that’s just us.”

Rowan sighs and holds a cupcake out to Cara. She’d bought it at a muggle bakery on her way home from work. Okay, yes, Cara was right about her birthday, but in all the years that Rowan had known Cara O’Donnell, the former Slytherin had never spent her birthday alone. Then again, it was nearly impossible to celebrate your birthday alone when you were a quadruplet. At least Rowan and Ash had different birthdays, which just meant that Ash was born at 11:58 pm, and Rowan was born at 12:04 am the next day. Cara and her siblings, on the other hand, had been born between 10:45 and 11:45 pm on the same day. 

“You know that you didn’t have to do this, right?” Cara asks and Rowan sighs. Screw you Doyle Lynch, she thinks. 

“I wanted to,” Rowan answers. 

“Why?” 

“Because I love you!” Rowan freezes. Her eyes wide. What a brilliant thing to say to a known flight risk, she thinks sarcastically. Well, all four O’Donnell siblings could be flight risks. But still, this wasn’t how Rowan had imagined telling Cara that she loved her. 

“What?” 

“I love you, okay? This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, but it’s out there now. So, I love you, Cara Rosaleen O’Donnell.” 

Rowan watches Cara carefully. Her girlfriend looks a little overwhelmed, but she’s not running and that’s a very good thing. Maybe Rowan hasn’t scared Cara away. 

She sighs and decides to refocus on the cupcake with the candle. “Happy birthday, Cara. Make a wish,” Rowan says. 

“Okay,” Cara mutters before blowing the candle out. “Want to split the cupcake?” 

“Sure, hon. Don’t feel pressured to say anything about what I said. I didn’t want to scare you.” 

“It’s fine, Ro. I just… wasn’t expecting it.” 

[alice-beaumont-ravenclaw]

A Night to Remember (Part 1)

A/N #1: It is finally here! The Celestial Ball fic!!! 23 pages total, hence why I divided it into two parts and will also insert text dividers so that if you can’t read it in one shot, you can easily find where you were. Here are the other fics in the series: You’ve Got a Friend in Me | Distraction | Something There | One Step Closer | Fashion Emergency | Get Your Head in the Game | Der Walzer von Alice | Of Quidditch and Ballgowns | From Paris, with Love 

Keep reading

[drinkyoursoupbitch]

30 Day OTP Alphabet Challenge

You can find the challenge here!

Day 17: Q - Quote. A member of the otp+ remembers something their sweetie told them. It fills them with DETERMINATION!

The noise of the afternoon lunch rush is overwhelming. It seems as though every employee at the Ministry of Magic has decided to take the afternoon meal at the same restaurant.

Seated at a private table close to the large window, Wendy allows herself to be momentarily distracted by the throngs of witches and wizards outside scurrying to-and-fro with invisible umbrellas.

Wizards aren’t as concerned with rain as muggles, she observes, remembering her most recent date with Ben to the London Zoo. Non-magical animals are just as fascinating as magical ones, and she insisted on staying despite the rain that began an hour into the trip. They had shared a very delightful, and very wet, kiss in front of the deserted giraffe exhibit.

She tears her gaze away from the window, turning her focus instead to swirling her spoon in the china coffee cup. She may have tuned-out the conversation happening across from her, but she needs to at least pretend to take interest.

Wendy glances at her lunch companions over the rim of her cup as she takes a sip of the bitter liquid. She never expected that her engagement to a muggle-born would go over smoothly with everyone in her family. Most of her relatives are quite open-minded, and don’t care two knuts about her fiancé’s blood status, but she is still a pureblood, and certain individuals have…strong opinions. Though most of them have the good manners to at least be subtle about it. 

Funny how weddings bring out the worst or best in people, she muses, taking a bite out of the rich cheesecake in front of her. It is almost delicious enough to be worth spending her lunch break sitting through whatever it is her aunt and uncle are trying to say.

“Do you really plan on breeding with him?”

The question snaps her attention back to the couple across the table.

“What?”

The sound of her own voice surprises her. It is sharp, almost dangerous. Breeding? Her mild boredom is quickly turning to anger as she takes in the audacity of the word.

“Your uncle means, do you plan on producing offspring with him? People like that –”

“People like what.” It is more of a challenge than a question.

“Muggleborns, dear.” The older woman says gently, perhaps sensing her anger.

Wendy leans back in her chair. It is all she can do to control the way her body is now quivering. “And what is wrong with starting a family with my intended husband?”

“Oh come now,” Uncle Eustace takes a long sip of his tea. “Surely you know that having children with people like that would be an affront to your family legacy? To our family legacy. The Rosiers, the Yaxleys, the Crouchs, the Fletts, the Gordons - it would reflect on us all.”

“And, your children won’t be pure.” Her aunt chimes in, as though it is the most sensible thing in the world, “They won’t have strong ties to our traditions, to our way of life. Not the way that you do. Doesn’t that mean anything to you, dear?”

"You’ll be marrying down, and away from your people. Diluting the bloodline.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to marry a good pureblood boy? I know of plenty who would just fall over themselves to have you.”

To have me? The words are sickening, and they twist in Wendy’s chest like a hot knife.

She feels suddenly trapped; trapped by the fine restaurant, the fancy dress robes, the people around her. Any number of them could work for the Ministry, too. Any number of them could be connected to a long standing, delicate social network that hold together the fabric of the upper class. All of it keeps her from saying what she desperately wants to say, and what her aunt and uncle probably deserve.

“Don’t be ashamed of your heritage.“ her uncle insists as he takes the bill for the meal. "There’s nothing wrong with marrying within your own blood status. Forget all this and let us help you find someone better.”

Hot tears well up in Wendy’s eyes. She looks down at her left hand where it rests on the white tablecloth, fixing her eyes on the beautiful engagement ring. It suddenly feels as though the whole weight of the world is crushing her, and the only thing keeping her sane are the stones and precious metal around her finger.

“I remember it like it was yesterday. My mum and dad had been fighting all morning, so I snuck over to my nan’s house for the day. We were making one of her fruit pies - I think it was mincemeat - and she had put her ring on the counter while she kneaded the pie dough. I must have been about 10 or so at the time. I picked it up to get a closer look. I remember, she almost never took it off, and I was fascinated by it. When she saw me looking at it, she said, ‘It’s an heirloom, that. Been in your grandpa’s side of the family for generations. I’m going to leave it to you when I die.’ I was very upset when she mentioned dying, but she went on. 

”'I want you to save it for a special girl, Ben, one who will love you - really love you - unconditionally. Someone who treats you gently, and with respect - not the way your parents treat each other. Give it to a girl who would give up her whole life for you if she had to. And, make sure she’s your best friend, not just a pretty face. That’s what I want for you. Promise me?’

“You’re all of those things and more, so I wanted you to have it.”

Aunt Grainne reaches out to touch Wendy’s hand. “Oh sweetie, I know, it’s hard.”

“We only want what’s best for you - for everyone.”

Wendy pulls her hand away, and takes a deep breath. “I’ve made my choice, and it is final. I will be marrying Ben in December, and there is nothing you can say or do to change my mind. I ask that you respect my choice of spouse, and never speak of this again to me.” She stands and takes her duster from the chair back. “Thank you, for lunch, but I’m afraid I have to run back to work, now.”

She practically runs out of the restaurant and into the now stormy street, adrenaline coursing through her veins. After a few yards, she stops to fill her lungs with the fresh outdoor air, realizing she has been holding her breath. It is invigorating and terrifying, defending her relationship against people who should love and support her. Making her way back to the Ministry building with the September rain soaking through her shoes, she hopes that she has lived up to the expectations of the woman who once owned her ring.