A Boy and his Twilight
Hermione's Writer's Block
"Ugh! This sucks!" screamed the voice of one sixteen year old Hermione Granger. She tossed her quill in frustration and slammed her empty book shut, and groaned, "I hate writer's block."
Ron was asleep, so this didn't wake him. The only other person awake in the Common Room on this cold Saturday night in December, the first week of the snowy month, was Harry Potter, the green-eyed wonder and proclaimed Boy-Who-Lived by the Wizarding World.
"You okay, Hermione?" asked Harry.
"No, I'm not fine. My mind's all fogged up, and I can't find a way to start writing this little story that I wanted to do. No matter what I come up with, the words just don't seem right..."
Harry got up off the couch he was lounging in (where he was entertaining himself with a book he got from Hermione last month), and sat down next to the bushy-haired brunette. "You'll get it soon, Hermione. I know you won't give up on anything once you've set your mind to it."
This bit of cheer raised her spirits a bit, and deflated a bit of the anger she felt. She smiled sincerely. "Thanks, Harry."
He then surprised her by giving her a soft peck on the lips, before getting up. "Make sure you get enough sleep, Mione. Night."
Her cheeks tinted a light red, as she uttered a soft good night, before her mind seemed to slowly register the event that happened: Harry kissing her (albeit it was a quick but soft kiss).
For some reason, this had seemed to rid her of this little problem called writer's block, as she picked the quill up again. Dipping it into the jar of ink, she began to write... the tale was around a damsel in distress, before the brunette-haired princess was rescued from the evil snake-faced fiend by a heroic man who had the most dazzling shade of green eyes with a nice piece of arse.
Dumbledore's Random Event
In all his years of enjoying the treats, something such as this has never happened to him. Yes ladies and gentlemen, our prominent old wizard who is portrayed in varying different roles from good to evil alike... died while choking on a lemon drop.
The Oh So Many Ways to Hurt/Maim/Embarrass Delores Umbridge
There have been so many ways that Delores Umbridge seems to get herself in all sorts of situations that would harm her and provide amusement for Hogwarts students who absolutely loath her. Unfortunately, there are also a number of ways to hurt, maim, or embarrass the toad woman, that even if there was a list, it would be a lot. So... use your imagination as to what hell the pink-ogress gets herself into.
Although, I'm not pivy to having her drown in a boiling vat of acid... or Bakura from Yu-Gi-Oh! torture her in the Shadow Realm. Then again that almost sounds like cruelty...
Then again who likes Umbridge?
The Alternative Death of Voldemort: Legend of Zelda Style
The clouds that hung high above the air were as dark as the night. Lightning lit the cloudy skies as claps of thunder roared with a threatening visage. Death permeated the air, however, it was this moment that seemed to warrant one would call "The Ultimate Showdown". On one side, was the Dark Lord of Great Britain: Lord Voldemort, and facing off against him on the other side of this showdown was his greatest nemesis and ultimately the one that had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. The Boy-Who-Lived: Harry Potter.
On each side were the forces of light (Order of the Phoenix, the Ministry Aurors led by Susan Bones' aunt, the DA, and other wizards and witches who would no longer tolerate the power of fear Voldemort held over the majority of the Wizarding World), and behind Voldemort were his army of darkness (Death Eaters). Each wizard held a sword. Harry wielded the magnificent Sword of Gryffindor, while Voldemort was armed with a sword of his own he himself crafted through alchemic means, wizarding metallurgy, and designing the blade to fully represent Salazar Slytherin himself.
"You shall perish, Potter. With your death comes the fall of many..." A sudden heavy hum echoes in the night-casted battlefield before Hogwarts, and a wide ring of black and yellow-mixed energy surrounded them in a large enough ring... completely cutting any hopes of help by either parties, however it was as Voldemort wished it to be.
A crackle of thunder lit the air along with the bright flash, and Voldemort came rushing at Harry. Harry countered by lifting the sword up, and both blades crash with a ringing sound and sparks of magic. Between both blades, the magic began to course off them as both struggled for dominance. But Harry then pushed Voldemort back, and he screams as the holy blade cuts into the evil man. He snarled and blasted Harry back with a swift wave of magic that came from his evil blade, and Harry got back up. Once again, their blades clash, and they parry through moves that would stun their viewers, neither once ever going for his wand. Instead, they were settling this all on a duel of swords, with little magic coming into act from wand use. Any magic used was a form of wandless magic or directed from the swords they wield.
But, as any great duel came and be witnessed, must it end... and end it did... when Harry jumped into the air, and came down onto Voldemort... the Sword of Gryffindor stabbed right through the evil heart of the Dark Lord. His death cry said it all as the rain, the thunder, and the lightning slowly disappear, and the heavy black clouds began to lighten, and then eventually part to let down the sunset skies, and the sun now fully blanketed by the mountains in the distance.
The war ended with Harry doing as prophesized: killing Voldemort.
A Boy and his Twilight
Sunset-colored eyes peer out into the night, before slowly settling upon a young teenager with raven black hair in unruly strides, and the brightest shade of green eyes she had ever seen. The imp-like creature with a female appearance floated next to this teenaged child, who was looking over the landscape that surrounded the castle the boy dwelled at.
She may not understand much about this world, but her world and this world was one and the same, and while a higher magic had one again binded her to this form, she now had to join this child if she was to survive. His soul has a power that she thought she would never experience again. That same power is what one resided in a world of the far past...
As she stayed next to him for comfort and warmth, her eyes glance at his left hand. There like some sort of strange birthmark, was a triangle. This was the mark of the Triforce... the Triforce of Courage, while the magic that she was blessed with was the Triforce of Wisdom, the same magic that came from Harry's soul.
"Midna, what are you thinking about?"
In response, the denizen of the Twilight Realm slowly gazed towards the green-eyed boy, a bit of a blush gracing her cheeks. "Nothing much, Harry."
Harry slowly moved his arms around her, pulling her close to him. She lifted her smaller arms to wrap around his larger ones as best she could... to hold onto him like a lifeline.
"I still question why if it that if I am not involved in some bullshit involving Voldemort, then why is it that where I have a power that would be the envy of power-greedy arseholes, the man who can only die by my hand, have the same power of different fate?"
"The goddesses can only do so much without directly interfering, Harry," Midna replied softly, enjoying the boy's warmth. It reminded the female Twili of Link...
"... Does it say anything about falling in love with someone who's not even human?" Harry questioned the chibi, looking down to her as she now directed her sunset-colored eyes to gaze into emerald ones.
"What do you mean by that, Harry?" Midna asked.
Harry's response was to pull her up close to eye level, before his lips press gently against Midna's own. And Midna... after getting over the minor shock responds by kissing back.
A Boy and his Twilight indeed...