Summary: "At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently."

A/N: Hardly subtle. I'm not quite happy how it turned out, something's off about the textures. Specifically the use of ALL THE TEXTURES. And Voldy, especially his sparkly flare there. 

Credits: ~M47R1X: Severus, *redheadstock: Lightning Brushes, ~LetzteSchatten-stock: Voldemort.

Characters: Minerva McGonagall. 
A/N: If you noticed the snitch in the other pictures you can see why this is one of her worst fears. 



Whenever the summer had emptied the castle and the heat haze and sunlight preserved it in transient amber Minerva sat in her abandoned classroom with a glass of chilled wine, for one hour, looking at the studentless chairs. 

Then the first war emptied some of them forever, as did the second; funerals were held, cemeteries filled. 

She made two trips each November, wandering from grave to grave, leaving unheeded greetings, candles and remembered, and as the cold seeped into her bones a colder chill touched her: she feared another one might one day be for a member of her family.


Other parts in the series:

Characters: Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape.



He was standing as close to the door as he dared, and his carefully blank expression reminded her of a much younger man. Albus had given her Snape's wand and told her what he thought viable options might be, but had left the final decision to her, as the Deputy had the right to veto staffing decisions. In this case, she was very close to believing that Albus actually meant that. 

A Death Eater turned was unlikely enough, but the fact that it was Severus Snape made it even less so. Minerva turned first the wand and then the mask in her hands, looking at the eye holes, trying to imagine Severus Snape's eyes, so like Hagrid's, looking through them. She couldn’t, didn't want to. 

After melting out of Albus' shadow he had silently remained standing next to the doorway, curiously poised for flight, face impassive. When Albus had swept out again Glaucus rustled his feathers and fixed large yellow eyes on him silently, waiting for the boy to move. The boy. The murderer. The Death Eater. The young man. 

"What position are you applying for, Mr Snape?" she asked, even though she knew. The spectre had not said a word, she wanted to hear his voice. 

"That of the Potions Master, Professor," he answered silkily, tone and stance as pointedly non-committal as his face. 

"Come closer," she said. 

He came to stand in front of her desk, ignoring the chair behind him, hands in his pockets like a boy she had known. This was not him, clearly. The mask was not the only evidence of that. He looked older, thinner, and she resisted the urge of offering bisquits or holding up the mask and demanding an explanation. Minerva also bit back the disappointment. 

"Have a seat," she said instead.


Other parts in the series: