"Well, aren't you a right hero then," she rolls her eyes, barely managing to keep the smile off her face. James laughs and twirls her around before pulling her close, noses touching, mouths just inches apart. "Only if you're into that kind of thing." She smirks. "Oh, I'm definitely into that kind of thing." / jily and blackinnon, slight au, for hpfc 'musical chairs' challenge.

Some might say a man who admires himself is disgustingly full of himself, and those some may be right. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, doesn't know that. Or, maybe, he just doesn't care. / gilderoycentric, for hpfc musical chairs challenge.

She was vaguely aware of a lot of things: the creak in the staircase above her head as it changed, the quiet festivities from down the hall at breakfast, and, most disconcerting, footsteps coming her way. / jily, slight au, for the hcfc 'musical chairs' challenge.

Pudge hesitantly started rubbing his thumb comfortingly on the outside of her arm, half expecting her to throw some sarcastic remark back at him, inviting him back into their relationship of snarks and awkward flirting that he was comfortable with. This was all foreign to him. -pudgealaska, based off tumblr prompt: please stay.

At a time like this, Lydia hated being a banshee more than ever. The yearning for escaping her fervent nightmares was stronger than a siren's song, yet she could not follow it. Her fight or flight response, or perhaps the supernatural interference, always led her to the same place. / or, lydia visits stiles's grave and has a lot of flashbacks to the night he died.