OK BUT IMAGINE MAGICAL KISS CAMS AT QUIDDICH MATCHES
McNully saw the opportunity to tease his old school mates while the match had bit of a quiet down time.
"There may be young love in the air -" Murphy McNully's voice boasted through the audio system. The cameras had zoomed into a pink haired witch, who blinked once, not twice before sloppily kissing the half empty beer cup .
"One true love!"
Tonks took the cup to her lips and emptied it in one go.
The crowd witnessed her burp loud and clear, even if the people on screen didn't have any microphones.
"I take that one back. It's clear this is some form of toxic form."
The picture zoomed out a little, looking for the next victim.
"Is there a possibility we will get some real, wholesome kisses on this KISS CAM?"
He watched as his old friends shifted in their chairs.
Context: Merula wanted to do something dangerously stupid to get MC’s attention. Ismelda would much rather die in old age rather than in her teen years because her friend’s stupid crush who she’s not sure even has the capacity to like people romantically
In this story for @hphm-fandom-events girls week 2026. Helena arrives at the Valentine’s Day Ball with Ismelda to make sure she meets up with Miles and to offer her support. While not having brought someone to the ball, Helena plans to have a good time. Yet a pleasant surprise presents itself to her instead.
Themes: Ismelda, Dance, Valentine’s Day
Miles and Melody belong to @melodymidway
Helena Tremblay’s POV, February 1991
“So.” Helena began as she and Ismelda approached the Great Hall, “How do you feel.”
“Ridiculous.” Ismelda muttered yet regardless of how she claimed verbally, she was still not needing to be dragged to the Great Hall
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Helena assured her classmate, “You look great.”
And she was telling the truth when it came to that. Andre always had a way of expressing the person he was designing for it the outfits he created. The colors allowed them to radiate and reflect them in the truest of ways. For Ismelda, he kept the colors dark just as she had desired yet still on theme for Valentine’s Day. It was a rather simple dark crimson dress with a black top that had silver buttons running down it. When Helena squinted at the buttons, it appeared that they almost looked like skulls. Not what she would considering romantic, but Helena figured it fitted Ismelda.
As they enter the Great Hall together, the people who were in charge of designing the version of it for the Valentine’s Day Ball had truly outdone themselves. As head girl, Helena had overseen some of it, but with all her other responsibilities, she did not get the chance to see its full beauty until now. It was almost as if they had stepped out into a rose garden in spring. While the illusion of the sky appeared dark to reference reality, the Great Hall was lit with lanterns to create an enchanting scene. The columns were adorned with wreaths of roses and a grand Renaissance style painting was at the front of the Great Hall.
Ismelda glanced at her before giving a snappy remark, “You are enjoying this aren’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I be.” Helena commented, “It’s beautiful”
“I suppose it is nice.” Ismelda acknowledged to Helena’s pleasant surprise as she looked around, “And that food over there does look rather appetizing.”
“That’s the spirit.” Helena encouraged before turning to see her brother approaching them.
He was dressed in a dapper suit that was most certainly suggested to him by Andre. His long brown hair was styled in a ponytail in order to keep it tidy. His blue eyes looked at Ismelda and Ismelda alone and while Helena wouldn’t say she considered Ismelda a friend. She knew how much she meant to her brother, and that made all the difference.
As he approached he admired Ismelda’s outfit, “You look beautiful.” He complimented.
“Oh,” Ismelda seemed almost surprise as she awkwardly tried to get a strand of her black hair out of her place, “you…” she began while appearing to struggle with finding out what to say in response, “You look great to.”
Miles beamed, “Andre certainly outdid himself this time.”
“I suppose he has some sense.” Ismelda shrugged.
It didn’t take long for the enchanted instruments to begin to play. As if it was a siren song, couples who had attended to the ball made their ways to the dance floor and began a traditional waltz. The lanterns slightly pulsed in pale pink light to fuel a lovely mood.
Miles extended his hand to Ismelda, “Would you wish to the dance?”
Ismelda blinked, “I… I don’t really dance.” She admitted. “But I suppose I could do one with you.” She decided as she took his hand before narrowing her eyes. Though Helena doubted how sharp they were in the perspective of her brother, “Just do not step on my foot. If you do I’ll make sure you won’t forget.”
Miles chuckled at that, “Will do.” He promised.
Helena wasn’t sure how genuine that was. Even she remembered when they had all gone to the Celestial Ball as fourth years. Back then, her brother, herself, and her cousin all have different romantic partners. For her brother, that took the form of Tulip Karasu. Miles was far from a skillful and practiced dancer back then, tripping over his own feet but otherwise seemingly having a good time. Now that they were seventh years, she assumed her brother had gained a bit more grace.
Before they made their way to the dance floor, Miles turned to Helena, “Make sure you have some fun as well.” He advised her, “Erika may not be here but that doesn’t mean you should solely be here to keep an eye out for unruly troublemakers just because you are head girl.”
Helena chuckled at that, “don’t worry about me.” She assured him, “Now go have a great nice.” She bid him a temporary farewell.
Her eyes lingered on her brother and Ismelda as they departed for the dance floor. They were a rather odd pairing to a stranger but Helena could no longer see it any other way. How could she when her brother was happy and confident in herself?
She sighed as she recalled Miles’ last piece of advice. This was the first time that her and Erika would be apart for Valentine’s Day since they had started dating. She supposed that was the fate of dating someone who was a year above her. Erika had graduated and went off to go play for the Holyhead Harpies just as she deserved. Helena didn’t let the absence bother her though. Her birthday would be around soon after all, and Erika had promised to make a visit to Hogsmeade to celebrate.
“Ah there you are Miss Tremblay.” A familiar voice sounded from behind her, “I figured you would be here.”
Helena turned to see Professor Sprout standing behind her, “Professor Sprout?” She remarked in surprise as she tried to piece together why she approached her, “Is something the matter?”
“Don’t worry.” Professor Sprout assured her, “Nothing is wrong in the slightest.” She added with a knowing smile. “But if I were you I’d be making your way to Greenhouse Four.”
“Greenhouse Four?” Helena repeated in surprise. What sort of tasks awaited her in a greenhouse on a night such as this? Especially one where she was tasked to keep an eye out during the ball as was her responsibility as head girl, “but I can’t.” She attempted to explain to Professor Sprout, “I told
the headmaster that I'd make
sure none of the youngest students snuck in love potions or causes trouble”
“I can cover for you while you’re gone Helena.” Another voice sounded as he made his offer.
Helena slightly turned her head to notice that Corey Hayden had approached while she was discussing the matter with Professor Sprout. She had learned to work alongside Corey when he was named head boy and she head girl. The younger students were their responsibility. And since neither had been prefects before their appointments, they had supported each other through the transition process.
“Are you sure Corey?” Helena asked, “I don’t want to put extra pressure on you.”
“Of course.” Corey assured her, “Don’t worry about it.”
Helena gave in to the insistence of Professor Sprout and Corey. She didn’t even bother asking what was even wrong in the greenhouse. After all, someone who was going to become a herbologist would notice something wrong the second they walked in, “Alright.” She decided before turning to Corey, “I shouldn’t be long.” And then she made her way towards the greenhouses.
Regardless, Helena’s mind raced in anticipation as she made her way towards the greenhouses. Perhaps a mischievous creature had gotten into the greenhouse and had caused trouble. Then again if it was that, why wouldn’t Professor Sprout be able to handle that herself? And if it was a mishap of some kind that has caused a plant to grow to a titanic size she felt like Professor Sprout would still not let Helena handle that alone. She knew the herbology professor trusted her of course, but that didn’t equal Helena doing her job for her.
Just before Helena was about to enter the greenhouse, her attention was broke with the sound of chirping. Helena looked up and the on the edge of the greenhouse roof was Averi. She smiled at her pet Starling and extended her hand to serve as a perch for her.
“I was wondering where you flew off to.” Helena teasingly commented as she searched through her cardigan pocket and pulled out a few blueberries to feed Averi, “You haven’t been causing trouble have you?” When Averi chirped Helena only chuckled, “I hope that was a yes.”
As Averi chirped again and adjusted herself on Helena’s shoulder, Helena simultaneously reached for the door handle and let her into the greenhouse. And the sight within left her speechless.
Helena had thought that the decorations for the Valentine’s Day Ball were exceptional but these were at the same level if not more so. Then again, Helena acknowledged she might have been biased because they were in a greenhouse. The greenhouse was dimly lit in that same enchanting way the great hall had been. The greenhouse was filled with beautiful red and pink rose. and other plants that had been enchanted to either fit with the lovely atmosphere or literally be shaped like hearts.
As Helena welcomed herself further into the greenhouse she quickly spotted a table in the corner and the family face sitting there, “Erika?” She exclaimed in surprise as she rushed to her girlfriend and embraced her, “What are you doing her?”
As Helena took a few steps back to look at her girlfriend, Erika only smiled, “I wanted to surprise you.” She informed her simply.
“Well you’ve done just that.” Helena remarked with a pleased chuckle as she took a seat in the other chair. “You’ve truly outdone yourself! I assumed you’d still be in Wales with all of your training with the Harpies.”
“I’ve been busy.” Erika acknowledged, “But you deserve the best so I had to do something so I pulled some strings when it came to my training schedule to make the trip.” Erika turned towards Helena more directly and smiled, “It’s your final year at Hogwarts and I wanted to make sure to give you a memorable moment so Professor Sprout let
me borrow a greenhouse. She was happy to help, I sense she is a fan of Valentine's Day. And well, you can assume the rest”
“It’s beautiful!” Helena exclaimed yet again without scolding herself for her repetitiveness because it was true. She placed her hand on Erika’s, “Thank you so much.”
“Don’t give me all the credit.” Erika said as she chuckled from the flattery, “Professor Sprout did most of the work. You know I am not that skilled with Herbivicus and all of those other flowery charms. Not like you are.”
“Oh don’t worry I expected as much.” Helena admitted jovially, “the thought behind it all is what makes it so remarkable. But still.” She transitioned, “you didn’t have to do all of this. I was perfectly fine with combining Valentine’s Day and my birthday. I understand.”
“I know you do.” Erika acknowledged. “But you deserve more than that. I knew I could do better than just sending you a letter.”
“Still.” Helena gently insisted, “you've done so much for me this past year. You deserve the world just as much”
Summary: Rowan reads. Andre sketches. Talbott tends his plants. Charlie chases the Snitch through lightning. Somewhere between Hogsmeade and the castle, Alice and Simon take shelter in an abandoned boathouse and watch the sky come apart. A quiet ensemble piece about one stormy afternoon at Hogwarts.
The sky had been gray most of the day above the castle and village, but the clouds were now slowly darkening into something more menacing, looming over the valley. Students lingering outside paused mid-conversation. That sharp scent that comes just before rain pricked at their noses, and more than a few of them stared upward, as if the sky might spare them if they watched it closely enough.
That shift was felt even in the library as the light faded. Candles along the tables flared to life one by one. This shift didn’t escape Rowan, hunched over a History of Magic book at a table close to a window. She’d always preferred reading in natural light, but the sky clearly had other plans for the end of her afternoon. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked out, tracking the swollen clouds as they rolled over the valley. This wouldn’t be a drizzle. These were storm clouds, heavy with rain, thunder, and lightning. Rowan took a break in her studies, resting her quill in the gutter of her book, and watched the tempest gather over the grounds. The first drop struck the windowpane.
Andre watched the next drops spatter the windows of the Ravenclaw common room, perched on the sill with his sketchbook balanced on his knees. He knew he should have been studying for his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, but the day’s gloom had put fabrics and silhouettes in his thoughts. Rain, he decided, could be made fashionable. Rain apparel, but glamourous. Or better yet, looks inspired by rain, meant to be worn on sunny days. Pleated skirts that moved like water. Jackets made to look as though it had just been peeled off a wet windowpane. The contrast would be revolutionary. He hastily started to sketch his future creations, listening to the tap-tap of the rain against the window.
The rain drummed steadily against the greenhouse’s glass roof, and Talbott found himself looking up. He was there to tend Professor Sprout’s plants, far from the chatter of his classmates. He adjusted his gloves and checked the trays along the center table: Horklumps, Puffapods, Chomping Cabbages, and a pot of little blue star-shaped flowers he couldn’t name but liked all the same. Talbott preferred plants to people. Plants just needed good soil, water, and sun. Maybe a few words of encouragement if you were the sort who believed in that. They never talked back. They let you sit with your thoughts. They didn’t call you rude for remaining silent. The rain deepened the calm, turning the greenhouse into its own world of softened sounds. As he worked, a fat droplet slid down a pane overhead and split into thin rivulets, distorting the world outside into wavy greens and grays. Another slipped off the edge of the roof and splashed onto the ground beyond the glass.
Drops of rain slid off Penny’s cloak onto the stone floor as she hurried into the Hufflepuff common room. She had just spent the first half of the afternoon helping Snape sort new potion ingredients he’d received. When she finished, she had thought she would have time to cross the bridge and the courtyard before the weather truly turned. How wrong she had been. The rain had started gently enough, but halfway across, it was as though the sky had opened and poured out everything it held. A damp halo was now forming around her shoes while Chiara quickly handed her a towel and pressed a warm cup of tea into her palms. By the fire, Penny saw Diego with one hand over his mouth, doing his very best not to laugh at her sorry state.
Tulip and Tonks were also covering their mouths, partly to stifle laughter and mostly to avoid being spotted. Tulip had a grudge against Merula Snyde, and Tonks was always up for a good prank. They huddled behind the low stone wall by the gate, not far from the bridge to Hogsmeade, cloaks drawn tight, damp hair plastered to their faces. Two figures in dark cloaks appeared at the far end of the bridge, moving with the urgency of people who didn’t intend on staying in the downpour any longer than necessary. Even from a distance, Merula’s posture was unmistakable. She walked as if the storm ought to move aside for her, chin up, shoulders set. A flick of Tonks’s wand turned a patch of path into a wide muddy puddle. Tulip waited as Tonks bit her sleeve to keep from cackling. Merula’s boot came down, sinking with a wet sound. With a flick of her wand, Tulip tripped the Slytherin into it. Merula fell forward into the mud and caught Ismelda’s sleeve on the way down, dragging her companion into the puddle as well. The two pranksters bolted off, laughing as they tore past the Quidditch pitch.
Charlie Weasley loved practicing in difficult weather. It felt more challenging than flying under a clear sky. After all, Quidditch went on no matter the conditions, so it was better to train in the worst of them. Rain stung his face and flattened his hair in odd angles as he tried to shove wet strands out of his eyes. Any casual observer might have thought him mad, but Charlie knew that spotting the Snitch in weather like this would sharpen his skill. Just as he caught a glint on the far side of the pitch, lightning split the sky, followed seconds later by a thunderous boom. Lightning and thunder. His mum would have shrieked at him to come down this instant. But Molly Weasley wasn’t here, and Charlie thrived on the adrenaline. He dove for the tiny flash of gold, extending his hand, just as a flash of white light surrounded him once more.
Lightning lit the corridor in such a way that Ben yelped as he made his way toward the Gryffindor common room. He could endure the sound of the rain hammering the windows without imagining floods, but thunder and lightning still made him jump out of his own skin. The next crash of thunder elicited another yelp from the poor Gryffindor, and he hurried his steps, desperate to reach the relative safety of his common room sooner rather than later. Another flash. Ben flinched so hard he almost tripped. His footsteps echoed on the stone as he broke into a run toward the Fat Lady’s portrait, just as an umbrella sailed past a window he’d already rushed by.
Two sets of footsteps splashed through puddles near Hogsmeade. Alice and Simon ran, soaked through, the wind having already stolen Alice’s umbrella from her grasp.
“— just a drizzle, you said —”
"Alice —"
“— wouldn't last long, you said —”
“Alice —”
“— I'm going to catch pneumonia, Simon, I'm going to catch pneumonia and die, and when I die I am going to haunt you specifically, I am not going to bother with anyone else —”
They skidded to an intersection. One path led back to Hogwarts, offering almost no shelter. The other dropped down a flight of stone steps. Through the rain, Simon glimpsed the dark shape of a shed.
“Over there!” he said, grabbing her wrist.
“This takes us farther from the castle!”
“There’s zero shelter that way. Either we wait out the storm in that shed down there,” he said, pointing, “or we get even more drenched trying to make it back in this weather.”
Alice looked down at her clothes and at her soaked shoes. “Fine!”
They sprinted down the path and the stairs, trying to make it to the abandoned boathouse as quickly as they could. The stone steps were slick beneath their feet. More than once Alice lost traction and Simon’s hand shot out to catch her arm, steadying her before she could go down. Above them, the trees bent and groaned.
When they arrived in front of the abandoned building, the first thing they noticed was that it had been boarded up.
“Great! Now wh—”
“BOMBARDA!”
The door exploded inward.
“That’s one way to do it.”
Simon stepped through first. “Just get in, Beaumont.”
Alice didn’t need to be told twice.
The boathouse was small and smelled of old wood and humidity. Remnants of equipment lined the walls. The floor was flagstone, slightly damp but not flooded. There was a second door, swollen in its frame, that Alice wrestled open. It looked out onto the lake toward the castle. Simon hauled the shattered front door back into place as best he could, before joining Alice as they looked at the storm unfurling over the lake and Hogwarts.
"Just a drizzle, huh?" she said, glancing at him.
Simon kept his eyes on the water, but one corner of his mouth twitched.
The lake was unrecognizable. Gone was the silver stillness. In its place, a churning black expanse whipped into whitecaps, the water battering the shore with a huge ragged sound that tangled with the wind. The small island with its maples had vanished. The mist was gone too, replaced by a curtain of rain so thick that the far shore existed only as a memory.
Lightning again.
The castle blazed into existence across the water, every spire and tower lit from behind in a blue-white flare that made it look like a thing carved by electricity itself. The silhouette was monstrous in the storm, the countless turrets sharp as teeth against the dark sky. For that one heartbeat it seemed closer than it should have been, as if the storm had dragged it forward across the lake, looming, reaching.
Then darkness.
Then thunder so deep it felt like it shook the earth itself.
The storm did, eventually, what storms do.
It didn’t stop exactly, but retreated, the thunder rolling east, the lightning growing dim and distant. The rain thinned from a solid weight to something more familiar. Trees reappeared. The far bank of the lake emerged from the grey. Somewhere high above the castle, a seam opened in the clouds, and a pale ribbon of late-afternoon light spilled through.
Alice and Simon edged out into the open, cautious as small animals. The path was glossy. Every blade of grass was strung with water. The lake lay flat again, soft and silver, and the trees shed the last of the rain in slow, fat drops that pattered onto the ground in a sound so gentle it felt like music.
Simon walked ahead, stepping around a puddle.
Alice lingered and tilted her face up to look at the sky.
The clouds were breaking. The light filtering through them was that particular gold that only happens after rain. It caught in the wet branches overhead and turned every hanging drop into a glittering bead. She closed her eyes, and drew in a long, slow breath, the air smelling of wet earth and lake water.
One single drop fell from the tree above.
It fell straight onto the tip of her nose.
Alice blinked, mildly surprised. Then, very slowly, she smiled.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little slice-of-life ficlet! As some might have guess based on the title, this piece was inspired by the song Little April Shower from Bambi 🌧️
