Stories by arieswritings25

His eyes, that distinctive shade of green that reminded everyone who'd known her of his mother Lily, were clouded now, the usual brightness dimmed by a cocktail of frustration, exhaustion, and something deeper—a bone-deep weariness that had nothing to do with the late hour.

He'd faced trolls, basilisks, and soul-sucking Dementors, but somehow, sitting under McGonagall's piercing gaze felt just as daunting. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find words that wouldn't sound utterly ridiculous.