Five: No one really wondered why Toby Dursley's Potions marks took such a dramatic turn for the better after a detention in an abandoned dungeon. When she told Albus that the Angel of Potions sang to her, she was only half-joking. Next-gen, one-shots.

You're not young enough anymore to believe that all you need is love. A MuggleMagic marriage in the second person.

We build our own Heaven of a thousand little joys. A series of vignettes on the members of the first Order of the Phoenix. Four: Caradoc Dearborn

Half-blood servant Walden Macnair has had a faulty prize thrown into his lap; the frail society daughter, Evangeline Prince. The courtship and marriage of a half-blood monster and the fragile, pureblood princess who wasn't good enough for anyone else.

It's a good house for lonely people.

When it was gone she couldn’t even say she let it go because it was nothing so intentional as that. Drabble.

Twelve Christmases in wartime. Things might be broken, but they can still shine. Oneshots, various characters, pairings, and eras.

Patented Daydream Charms and spun-sugar realities...George Weasley and Katie Bell in St. Mungo's after the war.

Where were you when your life was half over? Six stories, six days, six lives at the summit.

When Andromeda came to him the night before graduation, her eyes bright with excitement and rebellion and plans, Ted Tonks said no.

She really is freedom and flash and dangerous reckless youth, and he loves her down to the tread on her tires. Sirius Black dares.

If you'll be color, I'll see nothing else.

A man with a head injury is a poet indeed. Seamus Finnegan confesses love, accidentally.

Draco Malfoy needs something extraordinary.

A young Albus Dumbledore wishes for all the wrong things.

His dreams are too lowly to be castles in the air. Draco Malfoy and remedial Muggle Studies, the summer after the war.

It seems rather tragic, that he will never see how golden he truly is, will never see himself as anything but Black. Written for Cuban Sombrero Gal as part of the Reviews Lounge Ficathon!

That’s how long she goes, in the flurry of victory, without feeling anything at all.

He finds nothing of her in the world until she is gone from it, until he knows with soul-crushing certainty that the flash of red hair he catches in Diagon will never be hers, never again.

What wonder can be worked with needle and thread?