"I knew that she had been looking at me. I could tell by the way that she immediately put her head down into her cereal. Literately." –Qinterwatcher7, "The Whisperer"

"Ginny?" said Colin Creevey. "Are you all right?"

"Milk," came Ginny's voice hollowly from the bowl, as the flakes of her granola lapped gently against her hairline. "Washed with milk, and fitly set… his cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers…"

Colin rolled his eyes. "How very literate of you, Ginny," he said. "Come on, stop clowning around. It's almost time for us to be getting to Charms."

"Charms," Ginny murmured. "All charms which heedless hearts can move… whom but to see is to admire, and – oh! forgive the word! – …"

Draco, having heard enough, sauntered back to the Slytherin table with a broad grin on his pointed face. I've still got it, he thought.

"Headmistress McGonagall knows that I have been the head of the Hogwarts Restoration Committee since the beginning of the year. If it weren't for me, the Hufflepuff dorms would still be inhabitable." –honeysweetcutie, "Small"

"All right, folks, spread that topsoil nice and thick!" Hermione ordered. "We want Venomous Tentaculas covering every square inch of this floor by midnight tonight, and that's not going to grow on bare stone! And you in the girls' dorm, why is that air still breathable? When I say siphon out all the oxygen, I mean siphon out all the oxygen, not sit around playing tiddly-winks!"

Neville paused, and laid down his trowel. "Hermione, remind me again," he said. "Why are we going to all this trouble to destroy the Hufflepuffs' dormitories, instead of repairing everybody else's? When I joined the Hogwarts Restoration Committee, I assumed we were going to… you know, restore Hogwarts."

"We are restoring Hogwarts," said Hermione loftily. "Restoring it to its ideal state of perfect equality between the Houses. That can mean that all students have inhabitable dorms, or it can mean that none of them do – and, under the circumstances, the latter happens to be more efficiently achievable. Do you have some sort of problem with that?"

On some level, Neville did, but the look in Hermione's eye kept him from voicing it. "No, ma'am."

"Good," said Hermione. "Get back to work. –Where the blazes is my uranium slag? If that common room isn't dangerously radioactive within an hour, I swear I will castrate somebody!"

"It seems only fair[,] then, since I have taken your query, that I offer you a duel with one such as myself." –rob .thompson .jr87*, "A Triangle Has Four Sides"†

"How's that?" said Harry.

"As I say," said the man, leaping out from behind the editorial desk and brandishing his wand. "We at Heart-Stopping Tales of Magical Adventure recognise the courage required for an unknown author to send us his unsolicited submission, yet the world at large persists in regarding writers as timid, bookish types ill equipped to face true danger; thus, we would not dream of accepting your query letter without giving you a chance to further prove your mettle, in such a way that even the most jaded of laymen could not impugn it. Gareth!" he called to his secretary. "Go to the first readers' office, and fetch seconds for this youth and me!"

"Oh, really, sir, that's not necessary," said Harry hastily. "I can take my story to some other magazine; if I'd known I was going to cause this much bother, I wouldn't have…"

"Nonsense, varlet!" the man roared. "We'll have no simultaneous submissions here; 'hast brought thy work to us, and must abide the consequences! En garde!"

"Her cheeks started turning a bight pink as she walked quickly towards her friend." –Scratches, "Harmony Porter and the Goods"

"Oh, Harmony, there you are," said Renata Wesley. "Listen, I think I've finally got the goods on Professor Snipe; I've got photos of her behind the greenhouses, making out with…" She trailed off, and blinked. "Um… why are you rubbing your cheeks like that?"

"To activate a remote Chameleon Charm for the German Minister of Magic," said Harmony. "His government's having this big party for the centennial of the Heligoland naval base, and he thought it would be a nice touch if all the waters of the Bight suddenly turned shocking pink through no apparent human agency, so he approached me over the summer and gave me this bottle of enchanted blush, telling me to apply it vigorously at exactly three o'clock today. Quite an honour, really."

"Oooo-kay," said Renata. "Don't know how your great-grandfather who died at Jutland would feel about that, but hey, that's your business. So, anyway, about these photos…"

*See footnote of chapter 73.

†Crossover with Campione!