The Sugar Quill
Author: Shimmer  Story: Blackbirds at Night  Chapter: Chapter One
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Chapter One

Chapter One

~*Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life*~

Ron flipped idly through the large book, not really concentrating on anything. The flames danced happily in the fire, and he thought about just throwing the whole book into it. He knew he should be studying, but History of Magic was just so boring. Especially the blue period, why do I need to learn about the centaur revolution of 1346? Why is it called the blue period in the first place? I wonder what were having for breakfast tomorrow. Maybe some buttered toast, or maybe some of those really good-

His wandering thoughts were soon interrupted as Hermione came in through the portrait hole, laughing with Harry. Ron watched as Harry put his arm on Hermioneís shoulder, making them both crack up. Ron felt a twinge in his stomach, as Hermione, doubled up with laughter, sent an air kiss towards Harry. When they finally neared him, Ron, trying to seem casual, asked, "Whatís so funny?"

Harry looked at Hermione, who was batting her eyelashes at him, and burst into more laughter,

"All of Gryffindor-,"

"Some Hufflepuffís too," added Harry, still laughing.

"They think Harry and I are a couple!"

"Thatís funny," said Ron, trying to figure out what the feeling in the pit of his stomach was. The night progressed and soon Ron had forgotten about the incident, but the feeling in his stomach still lingered.


"Iím going up too bed, itís way too late," said Hermione shutting her Rune Dictionary with a thud.

"Sounds like a-," Harry yawned, "plan, sweetheart." he said with a perfectly straight face.

"Iíll see you in the morning, snufflypoodles." Said Hermione, who didnít even crack a smile.

"Snuffypoodles?" asked Harry, bursting into laughter. Ron felt that twinge again as he forced himself to laugh along with them.

"Gínight lovebirds," said Ron sarcastically, rolling up his parchment and heading towards the spiral stairs.



Hermione was still awake, yet tired, as she lay under her covers, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts meandered around obscure topics, as they do at night, before finally landing on Viktor.


Itís so weird that they thought that, I mean everyone knows Iím with Viktor.

Viktor, we havenít seen him since August

Well, letters.

Yeah, I guess

He is my boyfriend

If thatís what you want to call it

What do you mean?

We havenít seen him since August, we only write, he lives miles and miles awayÖ

Thatís rubbish


Banishing the thoughts away, she snuggled deeper under the covers, clutching the white owl stuffed animal that Victor had given her, tightly. She smiled, the Quidditch jersey she had borrowed from Victor and had forgotten to give back, -she was using as a nightshirt-, still had that Victor-smell. Sort of like pine trees, and winter. Thatís rubbish, she thought one last time, before she fell into a dreamless sleep.


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