Memories of the Heart || Harry Potter x Reader

Y6 ~ The Astronomy Tower

That same night at the great hall the Gothic glass of the main window. Ambient lightning, ominous and cool, plays across its shimmering surface. Flitwick, arms flowing gracefully, conducting a group of fifty years, looks up toward the window, eyes the pulsating light.

That same night in the Great Hall, the Gothic glass of the main window loomed imposingly, its intricate patterns catching the ambient lighting. Ominous and cool, the light played across its shimmering surface, casting eerie shadows that danced on the stone walls. The air was thick with anticipation and a touch of unease.

Professor Flitwick, his diminutive form brimming with energy, stood at the front of the hall. His arms flowed gracefully, conducting a group of fifth-year students as they practiced their singing. His eyes, sharp and perceptive, flicked upward toward the window, catching the pulsating light. The flickering hues reflected in his glasses, giving him an otherworldly appearance.

"Focus, everyone," Flitwick called out, his voice a soothing yet firm presence amidst the quiet hum of magic. "Remember, it's all in the vocals."

The students, a mix of eager and anxious faces, followed his lead. Wands in hand, they sang in unison, their voices creating a soft symphony of light and sound.

Flitwick's eyes lingered on the window once more, a hint of concern flickering across his features. He knew that the world beyond the glass was fraught with danger and uncertainty. But within these walls, he would do everything in his power to prepare his students for whatever lay ahead.

...

In the courtyard, Professor McGonagall stands tall and stern, her presence commanding the space around her. The night air drifts faintly, carrying a hint of autumn chill. Shadows from the towering castle walls stretch long and dark, the moonlight filtering through the gaps, casting an ethereal glow over the cobblestone ground.

She glances up at the sky, her sharp eyes narrowing as she observes the curious celestial display. A vortex of clouds swirls eerily, an unsettling sight against the otherwise serene backdrop of twinkling stars. Her expression, usually one of strict authority, shifts to one of contemplative curiosity, the lines of concern etched subtly on her face.

As McGonagall stands lost in thought, the sound of shuffling feet breaks the silence. She turns to see a pair of First Years, their robes slightly askew, straggling across the courtyard with wide-eyed innocence and awe at their surroundings. They giggle softly, unaware of the late hour and the need for decorum.

"To your Houses. No dawdling," McGonagall commands, her voice firm but not unkind. The students jump at her words, their expressions turning from amusement to sheepish obedience. They scuttle off, heads bowed, their hurried footsteps echoing against the stone.

As the courtyard falls silent once more, McGonagall's gaze returns to the sky. The swirling clouds seem almost alive, a dark omen amidst the calm night. She feels a knot of unease tightening in her chest, a sense of foreboding she cannot shake.

The courtyard, bathed in the pale light of the moon, feels heavy with the weight of unspoken worries. McGonagall takes a deep breath, her sharp mind racing with possibilities and concerns. She knows that something is stirring, something beyond their control, and the responsibility to protect her students and the school weighs heavily on her shoulders.

With a final, resolute glance at the ominous vortex above, McGonagall straightens her robes and strides purposefully back towards the castle. Her steps are measured and confident, but within her heart, a storm of emotions brews. Determination, worry, and a fierce protectiveness blend together, driving her to prepare for whatever may come.