Halloween comes and goes, and November arrives with the first snow fall. I am very grateful for the warm leggings for practice. We have another game coming up, and Vivian has us practicing extra when it rains or snows. She calls it adversity training. It is not pleasant. Poor Alex actually at to go to St Mungo's for frostbite on more than one occasion. After the third time, he caved and bought new gloves.
My cheeks are now just in a permanent state of redness from the cold and wind. I treat the chapped skin every night, but there's only so much that can be done.
After a very long and brutal eight hour practice in a near blizzard, I apparate home. There is nothing I want more than to eat a can of soup and fall into bed, thawing as I sleep. My feet land on the floor and I groan. The apartment is freezing. Something must have gone wrong with the heating.
I stumble down the stairs to look for Eric. This room is almost as cold as my poor toes.
"Eric!" I don't see him in the shop room so I try his brewing room. He's in there, carefully stirring a cauldron. "Eric! Why is it freezing in here!"
"Oh! Hazel! Yeah, I'm so sorry about that. I'm brewing a bit of a volatile potion, and the cold helps stabilize it." Eric doesn't even glace up from his potion.
"How long until you can turn the heat back on? Too long, and I'll become volatile." I shove my hands in my hoodie pockets to try and keep them warm.
"Probably about another twenty to thirty minutes." Eric adds a few drops of blue liquid from a syringe and resumes the stirring.
"Alright." I grumble, turning and heading back to my room. Looks like I'll have to rely on my soup to keep me warm for the next little bit. I dump the can's contents into a bowl and shove it in my microwave. I could heat it up with a charm, but I found that it did it rather unevenly. So I stuck to the microwave.
I eat my bowl of soup in a silent room at my little table. Owlexander naps on his perch as I have my dinner. I keep wrapping my hands around the heated bowl to keep my fingers toasty.
The house still doesn't get any warmer even after I finish. Eric must still be brewing. I get ready for bed and put on my thickest and warmest jammies. Burritoed in my blankets, I close my eyes and try to dream of warm places.
***
"Kingsley, you find it yet?" A short bald man whispers into the dark hallway.
"No. It should be here!" Kingsley Shacklebolt replies, followed by the loud rustling sound of him searching.
"Hurry it up. We've already been here longer than we should." The man, who I now recognize as Order member, Mundungus Fletcher bounces on his toes nervously.
"I need just a minute more." As Kingsley says this, a loud clanging noise can be heard from down the hall.
"Kingsley, we're not alone!" Mundungus cries, panic in his voice.
"Where is it?" Kingsley rages, frantically looking for whatever they've come for.
A door at the other end of the hall opens, golden slight streaming in. A frazzled silhouette sashays closer. As she approaches, I see who it is.
"Well, well, well, look who we have here!" Bellatrix cackles, flourishing her wand. A few more masked death eaters enter behind her, all poised for a fight. Kingsley reaches for his wand, but Bellatrix is faster.
"Incarcerous!" Chains and ropes spring from her wand, binding the man, his wand clattering to the stone floor. Mundungus, still panicking, just drops his wand voluntarily.
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Weasley Twins - A Fate You Can't Escape
FanfictionHazel Taylor is in her seventh year at Hogwarts. Things with Voldemort are escalating, and Umbridge is not helping anything. She's just trying to survive the year and make it through her Newts. But things don't exactly go as planned for this Huff...
