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Some oneshots of your favorites!
I write for:
- Avengers/MCU
- Criminal Minds
- Harry Potter
- Star Wars
- The Originals
- The 100
- Twilight
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I own none of these characters. All rights go to...
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≪ °☆° ≫
"(Y/N), come downstairs. I need to speak with you," your dad calls from the bottom of the stairs.
"Coming!" You close your book and walk downstairs. Your dad is sitting on the couch, and your heart sinks. "What's going on?"
"Have a seat," your dad says. You sit on the loveseat across from him slowly.
"Dad? What's happening?"
"I'm pulling you out of Hogwarts, and you're going into hiding." Your heart stops.
"What? Why?"
"After Cedric's death and Voldemort's return, it's not safe. Especially for you. You're a muggleborn, (Y/N). You're not safe."
"They don't know I'm adopted," you protest.
"They will. It's going to get worse, (Y/N). We have no choice," your dad says, leaving no room for argument. It's not going to stop you from trying, though.
"I'm not running away from this! If Voldemort is back, I want to fight. I'm not leaving my friends behind. Hermione is a muggleborn, and she's not running."
"They don't know what they're going to face."
"You're in the Order, Dad! You can't just leave."
"I'm staying. You are going to live with your aunt in Iceland."
"Iceland? Are you kidding me? No!"
"What I say goes, (Y/N) Shacklebolt, and that's that!" You clench your jaw and will away the tears.
"I at least get to attend the first week and say goodbye," you reply quietly. Your dad sighs.
"Okay. One week." You walk back upstairs and sit on your bed, trying to hold back tears.
Everything is changing, and you can't stop it.
≪ °☆° ≫
You sit in Charms class, staring at nothing. Professor Flitwick doesn't bother you. All of your professors know you're leaving as soon as classes today are over, so they aren't giving you any grief. The only people who know the real reason you're leaving are Dumbledore and McGonagall.
"Have a good weekend, class. Don't forget about the essay due Monday," Professor Flitwick calls as you leave the classroom. You keep your head down, trying to get back to the dormitories without having to talk to anyone.
