Maeve Macmillan liked to write.
It didn't matter if it was writing her thoughts in her diary, short stories in a journal, articles for newspapers, essays for homework, letters to her parents, simple reminders on her hand, quotes on parchment to st...
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----------------------> MAEVE TIP-TOED TOWARDS THE HUFFLEPUFF COMMON ROOM, taking care to not make much noise, even as she tapped the barrels to the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff, bringing the doors to open so she could sneak inside the sloping, earthy passage inside the barrels that travelled upwards a little way until a cosy, round, low-ceilinged room was revealed, reminiscent of a badger's sett. Despite it being located in the basements, the morning rays still broke through the low, round, wood-rimmed windows just level with the ground, which provided a view of rippling grass and dandelions.
The Hufflepuff Common Room felt as familiar as home with its cheerful theme of bee-like colours such as yellows, browns and blacks, emphasised by the use of highly polished, honey-coloured wood for the tables and floors. Despite winter arriving at the corner and cool breezes becoming as common as brown eyes, the Common Room felt perennially sunny.
A colourful profusion of plants and flowers that relished the atmosphere of the Hufflepuff common room was scattered throughout: various cacti stood on wooden circular shelves which had been curved to fit the walls, many of them waving and dancing at Maeve, while copper-bottomed plant holders dangling amid the ceiling caused tendrils of ferns and ivies to brush her hair as she passed under them.
Their Head of House, Professor Sprout, also doubled as the Herbology teacher and always brought the most interesting botany specimens —some of which danced and talked— to adorn the room. It was one of the reasons Hufflepuffs were infamous for being excellent in Herbology. If one were constantly surrounded by plants, they tended to learn about it some way or another.
Maeve plopped onto one of the overstuffed, yellow sofas near the fireplace, exhausting seeping into her veins. The sofa was comfortable, the room was warm and subsequently, her eyes began to drop and sleep called to her like a Siren, slowly invading her senses when—
"Maeve!"
Maeve jerked at the call of her name, eyes flashing open before concentrating on Halley who stood in front of her, a hand perched on her hip. Kate, Bruce and Max fanned out around her, all of their faces showing various degrees of worry.
"Yeah?" Maeve hoped that she didn't sound irritable but at that span of the second, with drowsiness jaded into her mind and fatigue being her primary emotion, she honestly didn't care. All she wanted was to sleep, was that too much to ask for?
Black braids fell about Halley's face as she arched a dark, pristine brow at the ring of annoyance in Maeve's voice, the twists creating soft shadows under her cheekbones. Choosing to not address it, Halley resumed speaking, "Breakfast is starting in five minutes and straight after that, if I recall correctly, you have Transfigurations. Why aren't you dressed?"
The sound that left Maeve's mouth did not seem human. Then, she groaned, falling sideways face-down on the sofa she had previously been sitting on and spoke something incoherent. Conversing with Regulus Black had been lovely, but Maeve should have known better than to pull an all-nighter when the next day was Monday.
