Drabble 30: Once More with Feeling
"I was attacked?" Granger blinked slowly.
"Essentially." Riddle tilted his head to the side, observing her eyes as she struggled to focus on the conversation. The potions were coming into effect. "I hadn't taught reflective barriers and if I had thought someone knew how to use them I would have restricted their use."
"Why," Granger shook her head and her curly hair flew into her face, "would someone want to hurt me?" Riddle covered up his snort with an awkward cough.
"Can you not figure it out or are you lazy?" Riddle glanced around the room, taking note of the small number of students occupying beds, and leaned towards her. "You've been quite vocal lately. This incident was a warning. You should watch what you say in the future."
"I suppose I'll have to be more vigilant." Hermione huffed. "Since I've never been able to keep my mouth shut."
Drabble 31: Reaching Out
Knock, knock, knock.
"Mrs. Lily Potter? Are you home?" A toady little woman called out in her high-pitched voice. "Hello? Hello?" The door swung violently open and revealed a scowling man with dark messy hair and brown eyes.
"Is there a reason why you're disturbing me?" He scowled; arms folded over his chest, and stared at her down his nose.
"Ahem." The woman pulled a band from her pink bag. "I must see your wife Mr. Potter. She was not present for the distribution day so I came by personally to give-"
"My wife isn't home." Mr. Potter said between clenched teeth.
"I see." They stared at one another. "When will she be home?"
"Who knows?" He shrugged in a way too violent to be casual.
"I can wait." She took a step forward, intending to enter the house.
"You do that." Mr. Potter slammed the door in her face.
Drabble 32: Tea(sing)
"How is my protégé doing?" A man, appearing middle-aged, smiled pleasantly from across the table.
"Adequately. Ah. Thank you, my dear." Dumbledore accepted the finely scented tea from the man's wife. She sat next to her husband, their shoulders barely touching.
"Harsh as always, I see." The man laughed. "Based on the letters my dear heart has finagled from him, it sounds like he has made some progress in his work. What's your opinion on the matter? Do you think he'll finish within the year?"
"Hmmm…" Dumbledore sipped at his tea. The silence stretched until the man burst into uproarious laughter.
"He refused to share his notes, I bet!"
"His behavior is unprofessional." Dumbledore protested. The woman giggled into her hand.
"Both of you are too devious for your own good. You'll never get along."
"You've no room to speak, Nicolas." Dumbledore grumbled.
"But-"
"Not a word, Perenelle." Dumblebore pouted.