AvalonsInspirational

You lifted the bag off yourself and opened it. You looked inside seeing a note in it. You picked it up and opened it. It read, "Sweetheart. I know how stressful it is to carry all those big, heavy books to class. I remember even forgetting some of my books to some of my classes! Which is why I told your mother to charm this bag into you being able to fit anything and everything you need for class. But understand this isn't technically allowed at Hogwarts. So whatever you put in it, make sure neither a teacher or Filch catches you pulling six books out of the bag. Or catching you turning into a bloody cat. Remember, you're an illegal animagu

You lifted the bag off yourself and opened it. You looked inside seeing a note in it. You picked it up and opened it. It read, "Sweetheart. I know how stressful it is to carry all those big, heavy books to class. I remember even forgetting some of my books to some of my classes! Which is why I told your mother to charm this bag into you being able to fit anything and everything you need for class. But understand this isn't technically allowed at Hogwarts. So whatever you put in it, make sure neither a teacher or Filch catches you pulling six books out of the bag. Or catching you turning into a bloody cat. Remember, you're an illegal animagu

Draco gritted his teeth, aggressively chopping a piece of ginger in an attempt to distract himself. He was getting seriously annoyed. __y/n__, his crush, whom he had no right to be possessive over but was anyway, was talking to Potter. Stupid, annoying, everyone’s-hero Potter. It really shouldn’t have made him as angry as it did; you weren’t dating, you didn’t know of his feelings, you didn’t even talk to each other that often. But still, it did. He wanted to walk right up there, kick Potter out of his chair, and kiss you senseless. Which, in all honesty, was a terrible plan. But his anger was growing and

    In May of 1948, you were in the back of a wooden bed of a Piaggio Ape between the door and your mother, Darla, as she sat between you and your step-father, Moe. You stared out and watched as Florence, Tuscany past by. You saw building, a few trolleys, beautiful green scenery, and people. The vibration of the ape car was rocking you to sleep; you were rather exhausted from traveling. You have been on ships and trains for hours with barley enough time to sleep, moving around from New York to Italy. This can be a bit much for a seven year old.    Your mother patted your knee for confront, but it did not help. You was nervous, your mother a

  Your parents weren't the people who could call you from bed at 3 a.m. Except for this case. You had just cuddled in your big, cozy bed when you mother had shouted your name and said that you have to come downstairs immidently. You had been very scared because you had just broken one of the most important rules in your house - to be home before midnight. But you just couldn't help it. Your best friend was having a too good party to miss and you had stayed too long. But right after that you had rushed home, almost breaking one of your (f/c) shoe's heels. And you were going to tell that to your parents if they would ask you that. "But if they