This happened because I decided to wash my hair at 1 am (when I have to wake up at 6), and needed to wait for my hair to dry :") I had envisioned it to be much more happier and lighter in my head, but oh well. Enjoy!

Word count: 481

(8/12/17)

It started with a mumbled, sleep-laden comment made in the dark when they had almost, almost gone to sleep.

"What if we accidentally paralyze our wand hand, Padfoot?"

There were no further questions on why two fifth years would ever 'accidentally paralyze their wand hand'. No 'we're just kids, Prongs' or 'What the fuck, Potter'. There was only one way to reply to that, of course.

"We use our other hand, Prongs."

And so it began.

Late nights on their little nook on the Gryffindor Tower, and early mornings in the Room of Requirement. Missing dinner, definitely missing History of Magic.

It was a risky game they were playing, they would no doubt be put into detentions until the end of the year if they were caught skipping classes so much, even if it was History. But it was worth it, wasn't it?

Of course, they never talked about why they were doing it. Both of them knew why, it was hard not to, with the increasing number of attacks on innocents splashed across the Daily Prophet, and the sight of a student running out of the Great Hall in tears becoming alarmingly common. But they never talked about it. There was no point.

They had to do something, though, didn't they? Incapacitating someone was as easy as rendering their wand hand useless. As easy as casting a Silencing charm on them. As easy as Summoning their wand from them.

It was...funny, how magic made fights easier, and yet, so much more harder. They could put down a troll in minutes but someone else could put them down just as quickly as well.

And so they worked. Oh, they worked hard, until their eyes were weighed down with dark bags and their foreheads were lined with stress and their hands cramped and bodies ached. But they never complained, never cribbed, never even talked about it.

And their friends watched as they did this, their teachers watched as they did it, but no one said a word about it. What could they say? The former knew why there were doing it, the latter assumed it was just another useless prank. Both reasons for not intervening, both trying to justify their inaction.

And when fifth year ended, the two dark haired boys looked at each other triumphantly.

"Hey Moony, Wormy, watch this," they had said as one.

And it was a beautiful thing to watch, the way they cast without wands, without words, with their wands in the wrong hands. It was proof that they didn't need to stand by, that the fight didn't need to end if they were hit with something as trivial as a Silencio.

This was necessary. They had to do this. And they did.

They had needed to do something, needed to protect themselves. Protect their home, protect their family. How else could they have done it?

Home Alone: Write about someone defending their home.