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About Varied / Hobbyist Member Dessi24/Female/Argentina Groups :iconron-x-hermione: Ron-x-Hermione
Always the tone of surprise...
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The aspiring Auror trainees stood waiting outside a closed door, not knowing what to expect.

Everyone said that, if they were accepted, they would be by far the largest batch of Aurors the Ministry had ever had: Kingsley Shacklebolt's decree that allowed everyone who had fought at the battle of Hogwarts to apply for the training program, regardless of N.E.W.T.s, had been successful. The Ministry was in sore need of Aurors and Hit-Wizards in the aftermath of the war; they were not likely to care about academics.

What they had not been spared of was the character and aptitude tests.

Ron looked around. Next to him, Harry raised his eyebrows, indicating that he didn't have a clue about what to expect, either. Around them, he spotted several familiar faces: Katie Bell, who had graduated a year before them; Dean Thomas; a guy called Kevin that he knew was a Ravenclaw; that sod, Zacharias Smith; and another Hufflepuff that had been in their year called Megan, plus others that Ron didn't know but were older than them. People touched by the war, most of them, which was why the character tests were so relevant, as had been explained, lest they were planning on a suicidal revenge mission.

As it happened, this first week had been all about the tests, and they weren't told what those were about until they were there and found out themselves.

Gawain Robards, a thickset man who had replaced Rufus Scrimgeour as Head of the Aurors, stood now before them. His left shoulder had been injured as he escaped the Ministry of Magic the night Scrimgeour was murdered, and was now permanently pushed back, as if he was half-turned all the time. This, however, didn't make him look less imposing.

'You will now enter this room,' he pointed to the door behind him, 'and face what we've set for you. This test is to assess how you fare under a stressful situation. You will be watched, but you're the only one who can get yourself out of the room. If you don't, and it turns out we have to get you out wailing like a babe, you're out of the program.'

He scowled at them for emphasis, as if he needed to.

'No one is to say what's in that room. If any of you tell the others, you're out of the program. Understood?'

Robards told them to go in one by one and left, presumably to wherever it was he would be watching them from. Katie went in first. Twenty minutes passed by before Katie reappeared. She was pale, and Ron noticed her hands were sweaty, but she had a determined look about her and only nodded at the others so they knew she had passed.

The rest of them took more time to come out, but none had to be dragged out and none seemed physically injured—except for Zacharias Smith, whose fists looked bruised. Harry left the room forty minutes after he'd entered. By that time, the ones who remained outside were sprawled on the floor rather than standing. From time to time, Ron would stand up and pace up and down the small corridor before sitting down again, his stomach knotted and his back hurting with the tension. He stood up at the sight of his best friend: Harry walked up to him and clapped him on the back, nodding. He looked very serious, though, like the rest. Ron was sick of all the silent nodding; he wished his last name didn't start with a 'W' so he could be done with it already.

When his turn came at last, Ron was the only one left. He stood up straight and gripped his wand before entering.

Inside, it was mostly dark but for a candlestick set on the wall, illuminating something square and big that looked like furniture in the centre of the room. Ron walked carefully towards it, expecting something to jump at him from a corner. When he reached it, it turned out to be a large mirror with an intricate gold frame, supported by two monstrous claws... a mirror he had seen once, and that it had showed him everything he wanted to see. Ron hadn't thought about it in several years. Even though Dumbledore had told Harry that it didn't show the future, rather what the person desired most, what Ron had seen back then had become true: he had been named Prefect and won a Quidditch cup; he got a Special Award for Services to the School and even seven O.W.L.s—not to mention that later on he had been awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class, like Harry and Hermione.

He didn't understand what the mirror was doing there, though, or what was he supposed to do with it. Did he have to look upon it so Robards could see what his deepest desires were, whether being an Auror meant so much to him as to be reflected on the mirror? Ron remembered that Harry hadn't known what Ron had seen until he'd told him, and vice versa, so it couldn't be.

Ron read the inscription on the top: Riapsed stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Whatever that meant. He took a step back and saw Hermione standing next to him. Ron instinctively turned, but there was no one there. She looked miserable, her eyes red-rimmed, her mouth turned down, and when he met her eyes on the mirror, they glistened with tears. The Ron in the mirror didn't look much better. Mirror Hermione and Ron turned to each other: Hermione shook her head while Ron gestured with his hands. The silent bickering grew in intensity until Ron gripped Hermione by the shoulders. She wrenched herself free and slapped him hard. Mirror Ron thrust his hand in his pocket then, and drew out a small box. Hermione shook her head again while she cried, and walked away from him into nothingness.

The experience of watching himself and Hermione as an outsider felt weird, especially since it was not a particularly happy scene he'd witnessed. In fact, a coldness had begun to spread to his stomach.

He didn't have a ring in his pocket, of course, or in his mind at present—they had only been dating for about five months. But Hermione was in his future. There was no one else he'd rather propose to. He didn't know what she thought of that matter, but he didn't imagine such a reaction from her. Unless...

Well, that obviously was not the Mirror of Erised. What was it showing, then?

From where Hermione had vanished, someone else appeared. It was Robards and Harry. Robards looked as stern as ever, but he shook Harry's hand and clapped him enthusiastically on the back, handing him an Auror's badge of office. Harry looked great, smiling proudly and looking tall, even taller than Ron, in his uniform. When Robards turned to Ron, however, his frown intensified. He shook his head, much like Hermione had done, and spoke to him.

'What?' Ron asked outloud. He was beginning to forget himself. It was a mirror. Yet it was hard to stand there and not know what was going on. Why wouldn't they give him his badge too? Being an Auror was all he wanted to do; he had promised to himself that if they accepted him into the program, he would work harder than anyone else to ensure that they kept him.

Except that... well, what if it was too hard for him? What if he wasn't too good at it, and he failed all of his classes? Or if he wasn't doing as well as he'd thought in all these weird tests? He might have not done too well yesterday, now that he thought of it, when they had been paired with experienced Aurors and had to protect themselves or deflect the curses cast at them, like Harry had done with Dumbledore's Army. He'd thought that it had gone pretty well, not worse than any of the others—except maybe Harry. And that had been enough, until now. He was lousy. He wasn't getting in. That had to be it. This mirror did show the future, and Ron didn't like it at all.

He tried to lip-read whatever Robards kept saying but to no use. When Ron looked away from him, he saw himself surrounded by his family. Everyone looked better off than Ron, although he couldn't have said what gave him that impression at first. Everyone was looking down at him in disapproval—actually looking down, because they all seemed taller than Ron, even his mum. When he noticed that, he saw that he looked grubbier than them all, as well, wearing old, fraying robes, his hair dull rather than bright red like the rest of his family, his eyes dark and lifeless. In comparison, all the other Weasleys looked splendid. Ron looked like a corpse amongst them.

'Oh for Merlin's sake, what is it now?' Ron growled. His father shook his head grimly. 'Stop doing that!'

His family stepped back, shocked, as if they'd heard him. The reflection on the mirror was crowded now. When Ron focused his eyes on their faces, he noticed one was missing.

'Where's George?'

His mum started sobbing silently.

'Where is he?'

George had been a completely different person after the battle. He didn't laugh all the time, he didn't tease Ron—one of his favourite pastimes—he hadn't set foot at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes until about a month ago, supported by Ron and Ginny. It was all understandable. But Ron alone knew he was drinking.

This could not be possible; no matter how George was now, he would never give up.

The faces in the mirror didn't agree with him. Ron's reflection was crying, and he realized it wasn't just an illusion: he was crying.

'No. You have to tell me what happened.'

Ron slid to the floor. He remembered then that he was being watched, and stood up abruptly.

'What? What do you expect me to do? I just found out my brother will die—what kind of sick test is this?' he yelled at the empty wall behind him, but only the candle moved.

He turned to the mirror again. Evidently the test wasn't over. The Weasleys had left, but Harry and Hermione remained. He didn't even remember if they had been there before, in the shadows.

Hermione stepped forward and began talking again.

'Bloody hell, Hermione, what are you saying?'

As if she had understood, her lips stopped moving and she gave him a pitying look before reaching out a hand behind her and pulling someone else. It was a man, his face first covered in shadows, then concealed as Hermione kissed him. The hand she'd laid on the bloke's shoulder had a sparkly ring.

'Noo!' Ron said, and lunged forward. Hermione broke apart as Ron's fist came hard on the man's face. A blinding pain overcame him when he hit the mirror, but it didn't break.

Through the tears, Ron saw that his family had never really left; they were just behind Harry and Hermione, watching him. He looked at Harry now. Unlike the Harry he had seen before entering the room, this one shook his head instead of nodding.

'Don't do that! Stop doing that!'

Harry opened his mouth and said something very slowly, for Ron to understand. It was so clear that Ron felt as if he had actually heard it.

You left us.

'Harry,' said Ron, but it was Hermione he looked at first. His mouth felt dry. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—the locket…'

The locket had felt like a living weight constantly pressing down his chest, clouding his judgment with pain and nightmares. The locket had done what this mirror was doing—except that this was real. This was his future.

No, his own voice said inside his head. Once, he had believed the same: that what he saw, or what he thought he saw, was real. It was not real. This was not real, either. It was just a mirror—his hand had confirmed it. A different voice sounded this time, giving him a sense of déjà vu.

I think Divination seems very woolly. A lot of guesswork...

A mirror can't show the future, Ron decided, no more than tea leaves. That's not them. Not Harry, not Hermione, not his family—not his future. Besides… what couldn't be changed was the past. He had come this far; he would go ever farther.

Ron took a step back. The figures in the mirror disappeared.

'You don't get to win this time,' he said and, without looking back, he walked towards the exit.


There was a clunk on the window closest to where Hermione sat. Everything had been so quiet in the Gryffindor Common Room after the rest of the students had gone to bed, exhausted by their first month at Hogwarts, that she had lost herself in her reading, forgetting everything about her surroundings. The noise made her drop the book and jump to her feet; when she looked to the window, she saw a long, pale face staring back.

I see ghosts everywhere here, she thought. Perhaps Ron was right and I shouldn't have come back.

The figure outside knocked again, three times now, and Hermione realized it wasn't a spectre.

Hermione ran to the window and opened the latch: Ron, who had been on his broomstick and not floating mystically as she had thought, flew in and dismounted.

'Ron! Did you fly all the way from England?'

'Apparated into Hogsmead,' he said. There was something urgent about him. 'Are you alone?'

She nodded.

'Don't do that. I've had enough nodding and shaking for a lifetime, I think.'


'Never mind.'

Ron took both her hands and hunched slightly to look her in the eye.

'I love you. Is that okay?'

Hermione was breathless.

'No, it's not "okay", you git!' When Ron looked horror-stricken at her, she laughed. 'It's brilliant. I love you too!'

'Then don't bloody scare me like that,' he said gruffly before kissing her.

Hermione kissed him back, feeling content. It was the first time they said it, at least with words, and it felt important.

'Ron?' she said a moment later. 'While I appreciate you coming to tell me this, is there any reason behind it? I mean, you could have waited until I had a Hogsmeade weekend...'

'Well... remember how you said that Divination was just a bunch of guessing?' Hermione nodded. 'I saw that, today.'

He shrugged and put both hands on Hermione's waist.

'I decided I don't want to guess. And I don't want to keep you guessing. So I thought you should know that I love you, not just guess it.'

She thought tearing up might ruin the mood; instead, Hermione broke into a huge grin.

'That's very clever.'

'Always the tone of surprise.'

'I wasn't surprised. And by the way... you're not allowed to use that line anymore.'

Title: Reflections
Character/Pairing: Ron-centric, with a bit of Ron/Hermione
Rating: R
Word count: 2,516
Notes: So... I've started writing again and I thought of posting it here because people liked my stuff and that makes me happy :aww:
This was written for the Ollivander's Challenge at Tumblr, inspired by the prompt: The Mirror of Erised has a twin. Unlike its counterpart, looking into this miror isn't at all encouraging, because it brings to the surface the looker's very worst fears. Thanks a lot to jenahid at Tumblr for proof-reading this!


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Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
:flagofargentina: by capncraka ¿Hablás español y no entendés las reglas? ¡Visitá InternationalFAQ!

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Hi all! I'm a 24-year-old student of Social Communication who has this secret life where I write fanfiction and fangirl a lot. My aims here are to share my writing, photography, artwork and such for other people to see, to inspire me and to appreciate and show my support to other artists and writers. People at dA are incredibly talented; it's amazing what a camera, your hands, or a program can do!

As you might see, I like to try a little of everything. My gallery has drawings, photomanips, icons, stamps, stories, photos, animations, brushes, stock, designs... Of course it doesn't mean I'm good in all of that or that you'll find a lot of everything, but... it's fun to try!
And needless to say, I'm a huge Harry Potter fan and an even bigger Ron&Hermione supporter.

Sites where you can find me:


Thanks for visiting my page.
Keep creating
Star Emote by Gasara
Jubilee Bunting Divider by GasaraJubilee Bunting Divider by GasaraJubilee Bunting Divider by Gasara
Hi everyone! Sorry that I haven't been around in ages (my last real deviation is from *gasps* February!). I spend more time on Tumblr now (you're welcome to follow me, and if you do, tell me who you are!). Even though I don't post here, though, I still check it every day, look for new R/Hr artwork to submit to my group and I'm also helping at InternationalFAQ (if your native language isn't English, you can find translations of the dA Help & FAQ!).You should also know that after a year of not writing fanfiction, I'm back :aww: I'll probably post a one-shot here soon.
Anyway, I offered some humble prizes for the latest contest at Harry-potter-club and I'm sorry that it took me so long, but here goes the journal feature!


First Place: ASoulInTheDark

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<da:thumb id="458104567"/> <da:thumb id="458098883"/> <da:thumb id="458097294"/> <da:thumb id="457916355"/>

Second Place: Celsifer

It's a Little Too Hard       Harry walked down the road, trying hard not to think about everything. Everything was so difficult. The war was getting worse. He had to take a break from Hermione to think. All his fault. He couldn't take it anymore. As tears ran down his face, he ran, screaming, yelling, wanting nothing more than to diappear. Who else would be hurt?  He finally collapsed on a park bench, gasping. 
        "Are... you ok?"  
        Harry looked up. There a girl stood with tears on her own cheeks; had he interrupted her own breakdown? He looked closer and noticed an oxygen tank at her side. Her short hair, skinny body made him think she was a lot younger than she looked. 
        "Hey? I'm sorry." The girl sat next to him. "I don't know. I saw you running up the street." 
        "Yeah. Yeah, so

Luna's Morning                Luna peeped an eye open, hardly able to contain her excitement. Had they come? It was St. Patrick’s Day and although Luna was now 8, she still got excited about the mischievous, mysterious green men who would creep in and leave gold for hiding. Throwing her covers off, Luna jumped out of bed, noticing her pink nightgown had turned green overnight. In fact, her entire room had been redecorated in jade: her collection of pebbles were shades of emerald; her bed frame and sheets were a soft celadon; even Gurgle, her puffskein’s fur had morphed (which it didn’t look too pleased about).
                Looking about her, she touched everything, inspecting every last piece of furniture,cloth, and room. Finally she ran to her bathroom, where she was delighted to see that the water from the faucets was even green. After getting herself made up for the morning as
  Must Be, Probably, Most Likely       I held the tears in for as long as time allowed. That was only the school day. When I got home, I broke down, sobbing, wanting to know what I had done, what hadn't I done, what should I have done. Today was awful. I was shaking for most of it, trying hard not to cry, yelling at people, walking around with a scowl on my face. I had to put on fake smiles when I saw my boyfriend, tell him nothing was wrong, just something stupid. Poor kid.
       What's wrong with me, you ask? Oh not much. I'm in high school so it must just be some stupid drama. I'm only a sophomore so it's probably nothing important or actually life changing. I'm only fifteen so it's most likely not really a big deal. Must be; probably; most likely. That's what runs through my senior friends' minds when they see me in a bad mood today. What's up with her? Who ticked her off now? Nothing much.
       Usually they'd be right. It doesn't take much to set off my fuse. I'm very short tempered; my sister and I proved th
He's Always There
All of him will always be mine.
The fingers that wiped away my tears and found bandages for any boo-boos.
The arms that held me in hugs that made me feel happy no matter how grumpy I was with him
The chest that served as a pillow after it got dark and I was too tired to wait for my parents to leave
The back that gave me rides when I was bored and wanted some fun
The legs that ran towards me when ever he saw me
The smile that was forever present
The eyes that were forever watching
The heart that was forever giving
I screamed of course and hit him with my trick or treating bucket.
"Stop! You're so mean." We both had grins on our faces though and his arm was flung around my shoulder. "Aw come on I was jus' kidding."
His lisp wasn't what made me smile. If memory serves correct, he was about 8 and I was 4. I liked having a friend with the same name as my new brother and his mom with the same name as me.
I've known him since then and he's been my best friend, brother, lover, enemy, an
I've Been Watching by Celsifer

Third Place: Klangadin

Neville's FantasyNeville's Fantasy
Neville Longbotton was an odd little wizard.  He was not only extremely forgetful,  and a skilled herbologist, but also had a liking for muggle video games.  Something other wizards thought was particularly strange since there were so many things to do in their world.
His favorite was Final Fantasy.  The old ones, since the new ones were getting into real world problems.  Neville played to escape reality, not to live it through someone else's eyes.  For the boy that took the most peer abuse in his year, reality was all too painful as it was.  Plus, as the bumbling son of two heroes, he could identify with many of the heroes of the early series, and hoped one day he'd get to prove himself somehow.
Most days he spent learning what his classes had to teach him about the wizarding world, from flying lessons he never got particularly good at to Defense against the Dark Arts, which he was downright terrible at.   He almost always felt

Lost MailIt's addressed to me.  That's for sure.  My name, handwritten on the front.  Although I have no idea who the person on the return address is.  The weird part is that return address.  It's my house.  
The cold chill down my spine makes me glance around to make sure no one is watching as I go about my business.
I take my letter opener, (I'm a sucker for anachronism) and slowly cut the envelope.  Inside is a single piece of paper, folded in three.  I notice that it's plain lined notebook paper.  I unfold the paper, the letter.  
A breathe of air on my neck causes me to look again, but I still see no one.  Turning back to the letter, I read the words, written by hand, in pencil.
Some fear creeps over me before the words on the paper register.  And as they do register, the fear isn't abated.
Three simple words.
I haven't been comfortable since.
Three words.
"I see you."
  Harry meets DeathHarry Potter meets the Sandman's sister,  Death. 
In the moments after the Battle of Hogwarts, a fair skinned, raven haired young lady wearing an  ankh walks slowly across the battlefield.  Her downcast eyes show the depth of her sadness, and the dead seem to all be fallen into her path.
Harry watches her, slowly sliding the Elder Wand into his robes.  The surviving students mill about, each in some level of shock at the scope of the tragedy around them.  No one seems to notice her.  No one comes close to her.
Her path leads her past lost friends and foes alike.  Tonks' hair, it's natural brown for the first time Harry remembers, lays limply for a moment in the woman's hand.  Fred's face loses color slowly, her slow path following the path of his settling blood.  Bellatrix LeStrange's wand rolls away from her foot.
Finally, she stops next to Voldemort.  As Harry watches, the spirits of the dead rise and slowly surround her.  T
Hot Apple CiderA cider special.
For fifty years, my grandfather rose at the crack of dawn to go to work.  When he started working, there weren't many child labor rules.  Most anyone who could walk, talk and perform basic functions could, and often did, work.  For all those years, he was perfecting a concoction that has become a staple of winters in my family.  It had to be hardy enough to help him fight through the icy days of the coldest part of winter, tasty enough to drink, and warm enough to make a simple cup your best friend.  He worked with my grandmother for 20 years to make the recipe even better.  
It sustained my mother through every cold winter day of her life.  She drank this delicious concoction without questioning for twenty-one winters before I came along.  I was born in summer, but that December, I was given a bottle with this wonder-drink in it.  By this time, of course, the recipe was as it is

Visual Art

First Place: Thilil

The Dark Lord's Demise - CotF Contest Entry by Thilil
Dreaming of You by Thilil Innocence by Thilil Hunting Rats with Barley by Thilil A glimpse of Eden by Thilil

Second Place: LovelyHufflePuff

Diablo-Harry crossover by LovelyHufflePuff
Pigfarts by LovelyHufflePuff Dobby a free Elf by LovelyHufflePuff Hogwarts by LovelyHufflePuff Whomping Willow by LovelyHufflePuff

Third Place: mox-ie

Clash of the Fandoms Contest Entry by mox-ie
A Day with the Family by mox-ie Fortune Favors the Brave by mox-ie after the war by mox-ie Rose by mox-ie

Congrats to everyone!! :clap:
  • Mood: Delighted

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Frava8 Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015
Thank you very much for the +fav  and comment Hug 
OtterAndTerrier Featured By Owner Feb 3, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome!
msbrit90 Featured By Owner Jan 30, 2015  Hobbyist Artist
Thanks for joining :iconpotterwarts: :happybounce:  We are so happy to have you. 
If you'd like to RP the applications are in the Role Playing folder. 
My names Brit and I'm the co founder, feel free to msg me with any questions or if your just bored and wanna chat  Hug 

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OtterAndTerrier Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you! :)
msbrit90 Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015  Hobbyist Artist
omg I just realized what your Screen Name referenced, cutness meter is off.the.chart. la in love 
OtterAndTerrier Featured By Owner Feb 3, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Aww, haha! :aww:
Mairelyn Featured By Owner Nov 21, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
happy birthday :cake: 
OtterAndTerrier Featured By Owner Nov 21, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you!
PandasAreMine Featured By Owner Sep 24, 2014
Thank you so much for adding my newest deviation to your collection All HP. It's nice to be back on dA and to see that you are doing well! Hug 
OtterAndTerrier Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
No problem, it was really good! You too! :huggle:
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