wonderful, wonderful.

HANNAH ESTHER ABBOTT. xvii. hufflepuff. prefect. she/her. DA. lover of pygmy puffs, cats, wizard card collecting & herbology. made of glitter, flowers & firecrackers. cannabis connoisseur & firewhiskey aficionado. trying. · · · · ❝ Just because you are soft doesn’t mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the color gold.❞

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

susanbonvs‌:

When: November 30th, 21:40   Where: Hufflepuff dorms, Hannah’s bed Who: @abbotthannah​

Susan headed straight for Hannah’s bed after returning from her short trip to the kitchens, having gathered all they needed for their girls night. Pulling the curtain aside, she shot her a small smile before motioning for her to move aside. “Hey, scoot over,” she said, dropping her bag in the middle and crawling up beside Hannah, pulling the covers back over the both of them. “I come bearing snacks and hot chocolate.” Opening her bag, she pulled out a thermos and two mugs, passing one to Hannah before pouring them each a mug. She was grateful that even in these times, the house elves were kind enough to provide anything they needed if they just managed to sneak down to the kitchens undetected. 

“What are you craving? Chocolate frogs, skeletal sweets, pumpkin pasties? I’ve got a bit of everything, really.” It wasn’t often that Susan indulged in sweets, but in moments like these — nights shared with her best friend, when it was more than likely that comfort food would be needed — she saved up so they could truly indulge. After unpacking the sweets, she pulled out her stack of Wizard Cards, her lips quirking up into a humourless smile. “Figured cancelling all the clubs won’t really stop us, right? Brought them out just in case we needed some entertainment.” 

Hannah had always known that Susan Bones was a gift from heaven, an angel, this girl’s night further proved it. The fact was, Hannah was close to losing it. To falling into her depression, to giving into a part of her she had desperately, desperately tried to quell, to going back to who she was a year ago. But it was Susan, it was Ernie, it was Justin, her brother Noah, it was for them that she remembered to fight on for. It was for the younger years, the kids who were more scared than even she was, that reminded her to stay strong. It didn’t make the job of being an emotional pillar for the DA and for everyone else easier, but it made it worth it. But Susan, with all her quiet determination, her love, her resolve, Hannah went to hug her after she’d laid everything out. Hannah tried not to cry, she did, but there was the distinct feeling of relief that under the covers, in their own little world with sweets, hot chocolate, cards, that Susan was alive. Safe. Not in Azkaban. In front of her, in one piece, her pillar of strength, her sun, a light that never went out, it brightened her soul in a very very needed way. A tear fell down her cheek, not from sadness, but from relief, joy. 

Letting her go, she started to talk, “some of the Herbology club and I, we’re going to find a way to keep our plants alive as well. Cancelling Wizard Card collecting is really the most useless, as if we could plan a coup or something ridiculous with one of these. I’m glad you brought them, I’ve actually got something Noah gave me,” Hannah took a Pumpkin Pasty, letting it hang from her mouth as she went under her bed, searching for the small box her brother had sent her, that he’d cleverly transfigured and disguised. Bringing it up, her wand tapped it a few times after she whispered a revealing spell, the bobbles inside of the box turning into a few muggle comic books. “I asked him to send me a few, he sent me a few Wonder Woman ones, I thought you’d enjoy reading them. Seeing as you are Wonder Woman and mentioned that we needed one, so, I brought her to you. At least we’ve got more than enough to do tonight.”

Sighing, she looked at Susan, finally looked at one of her best friends with both love and concern, “how are you doing? With everything?” 

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

pvdmapvtil‌:

date & time: november 27th, sometime before breakfast

location: corridor near Amycus Carrow’s office

status: closed @abbotthannah

A smug smile curved onto her lips as she peaked around the corner at the mess they’d made of the office. Amycus Carrow was swearing, fuming and throwing the biggest fit she’d ever seen a grown person throw. To imagine Umbridge being a more upstanding adult than this shitbag was flooring. She’d woken up a bit earlier than normal. And yes, she would sacrifice precious sleep for the satisfaction of seeing one half of the Carrows lose their shit. Padma leaned back against the corridor wall, listening as the paintings complained about the racket Carrow was making as she picked at the paint that still stained her hands. However, a new set of footsteps made her lift her head and she quickly took the Hufflepuffs hand, pulling her back away from the main hallway potentially saving her from the wrath of their dearest professor. “Han, I don’t think that’s a good idea…he’s pretty livid and– not making much sense as it is. It seems not everyone can appreciate masterpieces.”

The days were long. That much was sure. Hannah didn’t know how to handle it, any of it, how were they ever supposed to? She figured at this point, acceptance of their reality and seeing hope for the future -- that was what would get her by. Padma and her endless creativity, her spark, her artistry, was one of the things that inspired Hannah to keep going. Beauty what was Padma created and Hannah could never get enough, so, when Padma saved her from being one of Amycus’ next outlets for frustration, she blinked. “What’s he doing then? Destroying your paintings? This is -- this is -- this is horrible. Between the clubs, everything, it’s not right, Padma. I’m scared, of course I am, but if he’s going to torture me it might as well be due to actually standing up for something I believe in.” But she didn’t move, instead frowning, looking back towards Padma, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I may ...dislike Snape, but, I can’t imagine even he’d condone this sort of ... savagery. Yet. Here we are.”

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

erniemcmlln‌:

ernie hated not knowing things. whether it was the answer to a question in class, to not knowing what time it was, to not having any idea whether or not justin (or really any of his friend’s, friends and family on the run) was safe. potterwatch gave him something to cling to.

so they always tuned in, hannah and him. ernie would bring his portable radio that justin had bought him to the girl’s dorm, hannah would usually bring some tea and they would listen together. it felt like lately there was only ever bad news, his desire to be well-informed would chime to him that ‘any news is good news’ but it didn’t really feel that way anymore.

he automatically shifted when hannah leaned in, putting an arm around her, closing his eyes leaning against her when he heard justin finch-fletchley and the shattering of hannah’s cup. his eyes shot open, as if looking at the radio would give him more information but river had moved on talking about phillip davis and the perks but all of a sudden he couldn’t hear, his ears ringing as if something had just exploded.  

he felt numb. he couldn’t move even as he heard hannah crying beside him, his mouth had fallen open slightly, azkaban, ringing through his mind, and ‘no no no, this isn’t happening.’ he didn’t notice that he’d said that part aloud. he felt his hands shake, he wanted to scream, he wanted to pick up the radio and throw it across the room but he sat clenching his fists instead, “hannah,” he started, wanting to offer some form of comfort but he didn’t know how to finish the sentence and let it linger in the air.

This is how you break apart. 

A moment, upon impact, hits you and you feel it too much that you can’t help but shatter. In one direction, hope went, abandoning Hannah as she cut her hands desperately trying to cling to it. In another direction, the feeling of composure, the ardent behavior she’d tried to get better at, Hannah feeling it abandon her as her cries got louder and louder, the tears falling quicker and quicker. Hannah shook along with Ernie. Anger broke off in another direction, though that was something she tried to abandon as often as possible knowing that her place in all this wasn’t to be angry. Ernie was next to her, she had to be strong for him, she HAD to be better for him -- but she felt broken. They were shattered. Hannah felt guilty even thinking it, even if she only let herself believe it, sink in, for a mere moment, but her hope was gone. 

What could she possibly say? She went to squeeze Ernie, tighter, but she knew she had to say something. She may not have known what they had gone through last year without her, but she knew it was something. If it was anything like what they were dealing with now, with the distance, the impossibility, the loss of hope, Hannah knew it was something deep, bonding, everlasting. Deeper than she could maybe even understand.

“We have to do something, this can’t happen. This can’t be happening,” she cried, though Hannah forced herself to propel a conversation forward, because though they were allowed to be sad, they were allowed to cry, they couldn’t stay fallen apart. Falling apart would happen when this was all over, Hannah begged, pulling strength from places she never felt herself capable of doing so before this year. It was in Justin’s smile, his laugh, the easy way he’d diffuse any situation with a joke, the way he never gave up. 

 She found strength in Justin, she prayed even, that maybe he could feel it. The way they needed him to stay ALIVE. 

“We’re going to do something, we’re going to do something, um, okay,” she started, going to face Ernie, her hands gently squeezing his shoulders, his arms, in an effort to let him know she was there -- in an effort to make sure she knew he still was. “What would he do? What do you think he’d do? What would Ginny do?”

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

aureliians‌:

date: november 10th, 6:54 location: herbology greenhouse closed to: @abbotthannah

Ever since the radio broadcast yesterday, Stephen hadn’t been sure what to truly do with himself - or the knowledge that they were given. Before this, it wasn’t as if it was easy to hear that people were being captured or going missing - but there was some strange sense of relief in it. They were people he barely knew or people that he’d only heard their names before. Now, it was completely different. It was Justin. His roommate since day one of school, his friend. Hearing that Justin had been captured meant that this was getting so much more real - it was hitting close to home.

Going back to the common room was just going to be more of the same feelings, perhaps even worse. The greenhouse seemed to be a good idea, as it should’ve been pretty empty at this house. He could focus on something to distract himself. As he made it way there, the lights on showed that he clearly wasn’t the only one with this idea, though. “Hello?” he called out, stepping through the rows of plants, before seeing the crouched figure. “Oh, Hannah - it’s you. I wasn’t expecting anyone else - wait, what are you doing?” 

“Uh,” Hannah’s voice rang out, her body stiffening, getting anxious at Stephen’s voice ( though, when wasn’t she anxious these days? ). Her time alone in the Greenhouses had been nothing short of productive, she didn’t have the time to cry, to freak out more than she already had. The world was crumbling around her but Hannah refused to give up, she had to pick up its pieces, she had to force herself to think of a plan and be strong for Ernie. To be strong for Justin. If anyone could understand a friendship group as strong as theirs -- it was Stephen, right?

Still, it didn’t stop her from trying to hide her plans, what she was writing, the papers, fiercely gathering them up, giving Stephen a forced smile. Helga’s cup, she was horrible at lying to her fellow Hufflepuffs, absolutely atrocious, but if Stephen found out? He’d be an accessory to Justin’s breakout plan. Ernie had always been the better one with plans Hannah had been pouring over idea after idea, while also writing detailed plans for each and every one of her plants so the fellow members of Herbology Club would make sure to take care of them when she was gone. “Well, Stephen,” she started, trying to sound lighthearted, “I’m just, ya know, making plans. For the plants. The plants that need plans. Because they need to be taken care of,” she scoffed, “ you know that, silly. What are you doing? Coming to take care of your plants! Just like me!”

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

time: november 9, right before the potterwatch broadcast closed for: @erniemcmlln

Potterwatch. It was only a few weeks ago that Hannah told Ernie, promised him, that they’d hear from Justin some time. They’d have to. That they couldn’t give up hope, that he was alive and safe. That he was going to be okay. With hot coacoa she cuddled up to Ernie -- the Potterwatch broadcast would be any time now. Any time. 

Listeners, I’m afraid we have some unfortunate news for you tonight. 

Hannah instinctively rested her head on Ernie’s shoulder, hugging him closer. The fact was, any news like this, that was bad, was a blow. To morale. To many people around her who were wondering, just like she. Hannah sighed going to take a sip from her cup before -- 

Phillip Davis and Justin Finch-Fletchley, have been caught by a group of snatchers.

The cup fell. SHATTERING. Hannah felt the sound of the crash reverberate in her soul, she felt everything shifting, she felt the tightness clutch her chest in a way handcuffs could’ve. Helga, she didn’t want to cry. She had been being so strong, so put together, so contained --  she didn’t want to cry. So, instead, she hoped. She willed the positive thoughts out, she forced them into the universe, for Tracey, for Sally Anne, for Ernie, for Justin. It was almost ironic then, she thought. She’d wondered, obsessed, where was he? Where was Justin? On the ninth of November, she found out. 

“Oh God, Ernie, Oh god, oh god, oh god,” there was no point in trying to contain her tears then, trying to not fall apart because who wouldn’t? As much as Hannah had tried for weeks, succeeding even, it was then she felt herself unraveling, starting to cry as the news went on and on. “Azakaban? Justin in Azkaban?”

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

erniemcmlln‌:

ernie had never been one for physical touch. it was a bit of a rule of his that he preferred to live in a bit of a protective bubble. he had never been a touchy-feely kind of person, he figured it probably came from his parents being the same way, justin would tease him that it was because he was literally not hugged enough as a child. ernie would roll his eyes at that, it’s not that he hated physical displays of affection, in fact, he found that they were only more meaningful to him when they actually happened. so that was his rule. of course, to his dislike, every rule had an exception, his exceptions happened to be named hannah abbbott and justin finch-fletchley. 

when hannah put her arm around him he felt the tension immediately melt away from his body. he wasn’t a tactile person, he really wasn’t, his logic though was tragically flawed, for someone who claimed to be so touch repulsed he enjoyed physical contact with his best friends far too much. hugging, holding hands, cuddling even, all cherished when they were from either of the other two parts of their trio. he leaned into her, moving his arm so they stood in a loose sideways hug. 

thank you, thank you, thank you,

he felt guilty about not mentioning what had happened between them, between justin and himself while she was gone, the way that their dynamic had changed from sixth year to now, but it was just so hard, bringing himself to talk about justin right now, it was too much to bear, and he knew deep down there was a chance that he could totally lose it if he tried to talk about justin, and he wasn’t ready for that emotional breakthrough, no not quite yet. 

“i hadn’t even considered flowers.” ernie mused, “id be careful if you didn’t want them ending up with the carrows, they almost all my letters, they went through them too,” he tried not to let it show how annoyed he was at that, how vulnerable it made him feel that someone else had read those letters. “i thought maybe for a moment that they found him, that they followed the letters to him and they-” he stopped himself taking a breath leaning further into her, “for a minute i thought maybe that they found him, and i couldn’t tell if i should be horrified that they did, or relieved that he was alive.” 

he shuffled, pulling the letter out of his robes, “it doesn’t even say much.” he admitted, “they read them too, i don’t want to put anything too interesting for them to get their hands on.” he said handing over the letter, before slipping his hand into hannah’s, giving it a light squeeze. 

i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,

“You could be both, both horrified and relieved. Maybe he’ll find a way to contact us via Potterwatch? I have HOPE for Justin, it’s Justin, you know? We can think the bad shit and we can be scared, but we can’t give up. Not on the hope that he’s out there. Safe. Alive. It’s what he deserves.” 

The array of emotions that Hannah was feeling in that moment with Ernie were both unbearable and extremely poignant. In her chest, she felt the tightness, the anxiety, the where is he? Where was Justin, anyways? The thought Ernie had expressed, the nightmare that was very possible with Justin being captured, taken, tortured or worse -- was always there. It was one of the several that kept her up at night, that danced around her brain, that sometimes hid in the back of it for several days only to rear its ugly head in the most inconvenient of times. It was times like this that her and Ernie were on the same page completely, where their friendship, while sometimes challenging, was easy. It was moments like these, where they were even able to talk about Justin, to bring his name to the light, that were laced with both melancholy & light. For Hannah, she saw the light, the light at the end of the tunnel, the space between her and Ernie temporarily filled with the mere mention of Justin -- they came together in a familiar way in those moments, a way that Hannah remembered, that she could do.

In her stomach, there was the familiar drop. The sadness that felt as if it was eroding her insides, creeping its way up her esophagus, burrowing itself as that familiar pressure behind the eyes that became tears. The emotion was so consuming, that while she was holding Ernie up, she truly felt held up by him, his presence, the fact was -- Ernie was here. They were there for each other. They couldn’t dare give up. So, the thought that Justin was captured, especially at the possibility of Ernie’s letters, while terrifying, Hannah used the strength, the love, the care she had left to think of something to do. To make a plan. Because that’s exactly what Ernie had did for her years ago, when the panic attacks started, he had planned, he had thought of how to proceed and he had helped make it happen. 

Hannah squeezed Ernie’s hand back taking the letter and slipped it into her robe pockets, “I promise I’ll be careful though, I’ve already got an idea -- “ but for safety, should she tell Ernie? Instead of finishing her sentence, there was a glint in her eye that ( maybe, if he looked hard enough, he could see Justin’s playfulness in it, the hope of possibility, the thought of the joke landing, causing a ruckus applause ) as ideas raced through her brain. “I love you, okay? It’s going to be okay. I know that doesn’t seem true, but it will be. I have more faith in it than I do in Herbology class and I’m pretty handy at Herbology, as we both know. Have you eaten today? We could try to sneak into the kitchens and get something yummy. Or I can make one of my mum’s soups?”

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

anthonygcldstein‌:

“Suggesting a Jabba the Hut fancy dress to anyone would have them offended, Hannah,” he mused, half in his words and half in his thoughts as he struggled to come up with a proper answer for the girl. How could you tell Hannah Abbott, with all that sunshine and love in her eyes, that you’d given up your favorite things because the world became too much? She’s always been pure sparks to him, that flash-bang of lightning that strikes twice but doesn’t start a fire, and Anthony couldn’t help but wonder if she’d found the secret to catching it in a bottle. His mouth first formed into the shape of a cheeky question, a witty retort, something to match the levity she always brought to the table, but the corners dipped back down upon hearing her questions. He’s always had a propensity for turning over something light just to find its serious side, for skipping stones just to see how long it took them to sink. 

“Before this year started, I used to read Muggle comics any chance I got. My dad sent them to me – he’s got this giant collection, you know? He says it’s ‘cause he likes the art style, but… I dunno, I think he’s just fascinated by how they tell their stories, like I am.” Anthony felt himself getting too excited too soon, a certain lightness peeking through his words that, naturally, found itself put out when he considered his next words. “I had to write him at the start of the year to hold off for the time being. You know, with the…world how it is.” The last few words were tinged with something darker, and he shrugged in rebuke of himself, offering a small smile to soften the tone. “Perhaps I’ll brew a potion that makes me grow a ridiculous beard, put on a feather cap, and call myself Beedle the Bard. Enchant my quill to write sonnets anytime I walk into a new room.” It’s an idea born from safety rather than true interest – the same pursuit of safety that saw him give up Muggle literature when the Wizarding world turned dark. 

Hannah couldn’t help but laugh at his statement about Jabba the Hut, it was true, and she nodded in agreement. Her laugh faded, however, her expression turning into one of curiosity, her smile tinged with sadness. More than anything, Hannah hoped that it didn’t come off as pity -- she knew there was no value in that feeling, she knew that Anthony wouldn’t appreciate it. The sadness came from a place of empathy -- because she understood how he felt all too well. Having to suppress certain joys for the sake of their survival, something she hated, but became necessary in a political climate like this. Hannah tried and tried to illuminate the world with kindness, with good, but there were some things -- certain things -- that could never be replaced by the actual thing. A muggle coke, a pink sunset falling behind the Alps on Lake Como, a hug from her mother ( the scent, the feel, the warmth, the love )  and comic books. Unfortunately, Hannah could never conjure the same joy that came from reading comics but in that moment she knew she had to figure out a way to get her hands on one, noting mentally to owl Noah about it soon. 

“None of it is right, or fair, or okay, none of it is,” the acknowledgement, saying it aloud, weighed heavy because of course she knew -- she knew it was terrible -- what was the point of pointing it out? What could she possibly say to ease Anthony’s mind? She swallowed, because she didn’t want to appear weak, like she couldn’t handle talking about it with him -- because she could. If anyone knew that, it was Anthony, but Hannah was so used to people seeing her for the anxious, emotional mess she was for years, an ode to the girl who cried at the drop of a hat, who was scared of breaking a rule more than breaking a bone, the the truth was, in the midst of all this horror --  she had something to prove. More to herself, than anyone else. She had to be someone, someone steady, someone she was working every day in and day out to be.

He was one of the most grounded people she knew, a stubbornness to rival Ernie’s, she worried on days like this that the honesty in which Anthony saw the world had become a dangerous dark pessimism. He had every right to see every dark corner, every horrible act committed for what it was -- horrible -- but Hannah’ll be damned if she let him drown in it. “I feel like you already embody the Beedle Bard in spirit sometimes, so, that’d be no good,” she tried a small joke, her laugh falling flat before a determined expression lit up her features. “Halloween is about being something other than yourself, for one night, even if it’s ridiculous and you know what? We deserve something like that. We do. And I’ll fight you if you say otherwise -- you’d be a fantastic Robin. Jim Gordon? Magneto, even, that’d be an interesting take, yeah? I’ll even help charm and make a costume for you, if i’ve got to. I’ll ask Lisa for your measurements if you don’t give them to me.” 

[dumbmused]

“She wears sunshine like a halo all over her and she has a sky of stars in her eyes. And when she gives you just a half smile, somehow you just cannot take your eyes off of her.”

— L.W. // Something lovely about her half smile  (via miadolanwrites)

[erniemcmlln]

@abbotthannah

[narsila]

Lana Condor photographed by Jessica Castro for Fault Magazine #23

[marchofwarhq-blog]

Below the cut is an ask meme for our Slytherin party event. This is a bit different than a typical ask meme, so here’s how it will work:

Reblog this post to participate (you can still send things to other people if you don’t participate yourself).

Send a maximum of one symbol to each person who reblogs, so no one gets flooded with more than they can write. 

Unlike typical ask memes, the content of these replies will be considered just as “real” as a normal thread. 

For this reason, event memes do count towards activity. 

We also want to be careful with god-modding here, since anything you send someone is an actual event that will be happening. If you haven’t already discussed it, please shoot a quick message before sending a meme in order to make sure the other player is down with the idea / hasn’t already gotten too many of that same symbol. 

These memes can serve as starters for threads if you wish ! Just make sure you copy & paste the first reply into a new post rather than reblogging the original ask. 

They can also be short if you’d like — they’re meant to allow for quick, fun interactions like one would have at a party. Although if you’d prefer to go deeper into it, that’s fine too !

Keep reading

[bencvolences]

Send “&” for a LOVING text. / Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. / Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

Send “&” for a LOVING text.

[13:47] literally HOW are you so amazing[13:47] every day i think “there’s no way hannah could be any more kind and thoughtful and generous”[13:48] and then you prove me wrong[13:49] how did i become friends with an actual angel? 

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

[09:25] hey can you settle a bet for me[09:25] did ernie and justin ever hook up?[09:25] if i’m right then megan owes me five sickles

Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

[11:03] hey. i just realized that today makes it exactly a year since… well, obviously you know.[11:03] she’d be so proud of you hannah. [11:04] please let me know if you need anything or just don’t want to be alone. [11:05] i’m here for you. today and always.

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

NOAH RUNCORN. 

“A costume? Why? What do you need a costume for?” Noah stared at her, his gaze sharp, his expression twisting with confusion. He thought he had heard dressing up was some muggle tradition before, but why would she do it here at Hogwarts? Why now of all times? He rolled his eyes at the idea, the ridiculousness of it all. It would darken the target on her back already. “And what the fuck is a Baby Spice and why would you want to be it?”

“Because it’s almost Halloween and it deserves to be celebrated,” out of all the reactions she had gotten, it was probably Noah who’s reaction made the most sense. Sure, it seemed like a bad time to be dressing up, eating candy, doing something reckless but a year without Halloween was like a year without Christmas -- too bleak for her taste. Hannah couldn’t help but laugh at his question, “part of a muggle pop group, they’re called the Spice Girls. There’s five of ‘em. Why would I want to be it? Because they’re bloody brilliant that’s why. I’m sure you’d even like their music. What kind of music do you like anyways?”

[rpmememaker]

Send “✆” for a MORNING text. Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT. Send “☎” for a RUSHED text. Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text. Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text. Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text. Send “#” for a RANDOM text. Send “@” for a SCARED text. Send “&” for a LOVING text. Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text. Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text. Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

[aureliians]

hufflepuff + tag yourself

bonus:

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

ERNIE MACMILLAN. 

when: morning, october 8th where: owlery, west tower who: open

writing letters was a good hobby.

because that’s what it was it was a hobby, not a cry for help, not a coping mechanism and he certainly didn’t mean for it to get him in trouble. it was fun to write letters, even ones you never really intended on sending. he would write to his parents sometimes but mostly ended up with not much to say. sometimes he would write letters to himself, and yes they were letters, not a diary he wasn’t twelve hannah. mostly though (if he was honest with himself) he would write to justin. 

some of them he would send, some of them he didn’t but it wasn’t like it mattered, he knew that his friend wouldn’t see them anyways. he didn’t know however that it would earn him a trip to the headmaster’s office where he would be screamed at, accusing him of lying and demanding to know any information he had on the location of the finch-fletchley’s. he denied it like he did before, he didn’t even need to lie, he didn’t know. he felt his ears burn when they brought up specific parts of some of his sent letters, thinking they were written in some sort of code to he could send secret messages and warnings, it only made him glad he refrained from sending some of the more personal, vulnerable letters. it took pointing out that if that they had the letters, and had found them unopened that clearly they hadn’t been read. he was sent away with a warning to send be wasting anyone else’s time. 

it had been a week since his visit to the headmaster’s office, he hadn’t sent any letters since but he had been itching too. he’d had the letter in his hands when he noticed someone else lurking about, putting on his best “prefect” voice (which anyone could admit was pretty good) and cleared his throat, 

“shouldn’t you be heading to class?” as he tucked his letter away in his robes. 

As much as she might’ve teased Ernie about his letter writing habit -- Hannah knew that it was a valuable coping skill, a lifeline, and during a time like this anything you could anchor yourself was very very important. 

It was vital, between the two of them, that they didn’t give up -- not just as prefects, or on each other, but when it came to Justin. Hannah loved both Justin and Ernie as if they were brothers, though she had had inklings that the connection between them hadn’t been such. Was Hannah jealous like some people may have expected her to be? Not at all. She knew that when she was gone, MIA, for most of their sixth year that there’d be a change. That they had to fill the space between where her presence would’ve been with something, in turn, growing close to each other in a way that she wasn’t a part of but didn’t deny. Hannah never really brought it up with Ernie, though she wanted to, she knew that they were now where Ernie and Justin once were without her -- desperately trying to find a way to function without a vital part of their golden trio. 

“Oi, I’m not going to class without you, Ernie, you know that,” Hannah had been leaning against the doorway, her eyes scanning Ernie with a deep concern. It didn’t take long for her to walk over, wrapping her arm around his. She sighed, not able to hide her sadness then, to hide her exhaustion, knowing if she tried that Ernie would see through it immediately. Knowing that he felt it too.

“You do know I can help you? Send a letter or two? Send some, er, flowers, maybe?” But to who? But to where? Justin, where were you? The thought of sending out flowers into the universe, via a poor owl only for them to search and search before giving up, was bittersweet. There was always the hope that they’d find him, that he’d reply back, that he’d let them know he was fucking alive, but the even more morbid thoughts lingered in the back of her psyche. What if the reason he wasn’t replying was because Justin was dead?

“Did you hear? They’ve got something called Potterwatch -- I’m sure he’ll send us a message. Something. He’s out there. You’ve got to keep writing your diaries entries otherwise he’ll think we’ll have given up on him -- you know he’ll come back saying he felt it in his bones that one of us gave up. Let me send it though, you were questioned by those shits last week, yeah? My turn, ponce.” 

TRANSLATION: let me carry some of this for you, please, you don’t have to carry the weight alone.

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

SUE LI.

Sue looked up from her seat at the blonde. Her favorite table in the library had been taken by a gaggle of laughing fifth years who all towered over her, forcing her to relocate to the Great Hall as a study space. It was usually quiet at this hour, most people in class or outside making the most of the last few days of warmth. Sue smiled as she listened to Hannah’s question, answering softly, “I’ve always liked Diana best. Baby Spice is nice if you want to do a group costume though.”

“Once again, Sue Li, you are LEAGUES ahead of anyone and everyone else -- you’re one of the only people I’ve asked about this who’ve actually known who the Spice Girls are. I feel like I can breathe again,” Hannah let out a large breath to illustrate her point, grinning over at Sue, going to sit across from her. It was hard to bother Sue sometimes, which often drove Hannah just to bring her books, her parchment, pens, everything to Sue to study with her. It was true, that Hannah enjoyed her presence, found her calming, even with the tinge of melancholy she’d feel radiate off of Sue at times when she focused -- but it never bothered Hannah. “See, I was completely team Diana but then after I talked to Susan I felt like she’d just be the most amazing Diana so I’m not sure it’d even feel right to take that costume from her -- even if she doesn’t decide to go ass Wonderwoman. Would you be a Spice Girl with me if I went that route? Did you think of any costumes for O Hallows Eve?”

[mow-abbotthannah-blog]

SOPHIE ROPER. 

She wasn’t feeling too much better from the other day - but it was BETTER. While the Great Hall still felt heavy, Neville was back and seemed to be acting like nothing happened which made Sophie want to carry on like that. She still tried to avoid the Gryffindor table when she could, which was how she ended up chatting with Hannah that day.  She wanted to give real input on her decision, but truthfully, Sophie didn’t have much of an idea of who any of those people were. Diana Prince was the only one which rung a bell, but even that was vague. “If I’m being honest with you… I don’t even know who they are. But… Baby Spice sounds cute?” 

The more Hannah tried to keep up the cheer, the happiness, highlight the good, shine the biggest spotlight she could manage on the wonders of the world -- she always came up short. It was what happened when things like torturing students in public did -- morale was low and she felt herself straining, desperately trying to bring it up. 

Hannah wanted to heave a heavy sigh, to put her head down, groan, just at the sheer amount of people who didn’t know who the Spice Girls were. This was ridiculous, truly, she couldn’t wait to tell Ernie about it --- or at least, someone who knew about the pop group. “They’re probably the most iconic pop group to come out of Britain in the last decade and I CANNOT be the only one here who knows who they are. At least you think she sounds cute because she definitely is. Did you have any Halloween costume ideas, Sophie? I’m trying to think of what would be perfect for you but I’ve got to know what you love, what your preferences are, all that.”