Hi! I'm Phoebe, and I'm a big fan of your work! (I wanted to name some of your fics but I literally can't there are too many ghdfdlfghadk, but I'll say "Catching the Niffler" and "Quite a Big Mission..." and others). As a baby fanfic writer myself, I've been inspired by a lot of your stories, so thank you.
I love 8th-year party games fics, so that's my idea for your prompt request. But if that doesn't inspire you, feel free to ignore it! I look forward to reading whatever you write. <3
@phoebedelia this was so fun to write for you!
I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me
Eighth year had started like any other; the train picked them up at Kings Cross at the same platform, all of the students wearing black robes and pushing their carts and carrying their pets. The train wound its way through the mountains and over the rivers and finally made its destination. The castle lit up the sky as the first-years got on boats and the rest of the classes got into their Thestral-drawn carriages.
Thestrals they could all see.
But that was it, the only reminder of the war. The castle looked fine, every stone tucked back into place, every torch happily lit. It was as if nothing happened.
Everything had happened behind those castle walls.
He had run away from those walls, like a coward after everything he had done to destroy the place he had affectionately thought of as a second home for seven years.
So many had died there.
Potter had died there.
Read more on A03
