#unfortunately before i could start working on clara i ran out of white paint :/

[awerzo]

[WIP] Closeups of a larger painting im working on :]

[lins-fandom-hub]

2 for fluff and 11 for misc!!

Whoop, thanks for your requests! They’ll be under the cut--they may err on the longer side, and they may be crappy because it’s really late where I am and my brain is half-asleep right now.

List of prompts

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”

“Huh?”

“Your face is like a tomato. It’s not hard to miss.”

Potions class had just finished for the day and most of the rest of the students had already filed out of the dungeons, eager for a spot of dinner before retiring to their Common Rooms. Professor Snape had also departed for the staff room to report an unfortunate incident in the lesson featuring a broken vial and a nasty spill from a student who, apparently, was dared to eat 10 whole boxes of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans right before the lesson. Though the steam emitted from the cauldrons had long dissipated into thin air, the warmth in the atmosphere still lingered--at least, to Clara, it seemed so. And the moment she heard Barnaby speak, she felt her cheeks flare further with heat, feeling suddenly flustered.

“Was it like that the whole lesson?” she managed to squeak.

Barnaby chuckled as he sat beside her, setting his bag on the table. “It wasn’t from the steam, wasn’t it?”

“No.” Clara shook her head and sighed, chuckling a little. “You remember how it all started, right?”

“How what all started?”

“Us...dating,” Clara clarified. “The day Snape read the letter I wrote to my crush out loud in class--”

“That felt like so long ago,” Barnaby reminisced. “Of course I wouldn’t forget that.”

“I just couldn’t help but think back to then,” Clara admitted. “How it was in this very room where everything fell into place. I'll admit I was too shy back then, you know? Since you protected me back in third year, I saw you in a different light--and I didn't know how to confront my...emotions.”

Barnaby only chuckled as he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. In the dim light that filled the dungeon, Clara caught the kind sparkle in his emerald eyes and felt the heat rush to her cheeks again. How could he be so smooth at this?

“No wonder you looked like a tomato,” Barnaby noted cheekily, giving her a playful grin and a gentle pinch on her cheek. “But I like that. The red suits you.”

“Not just because I’m a Gryffindor, huh?” Clara teased back. “Though I’m not sure I’d like to show my house pride by blushing every time I think of you.”

“BARNABY! GET YOURSELF OUT OF LIN’S MUSH! WE GOT HISTORY OF MAGIC TO FINISH!”

“Not now, Ismelda!” Barnaby responded. “I’m busy!”

“At least he gets the Lin mush,” Clara added. “Completely exclusive to the best boy in the world. Sorry, Ismelda.”

“HEY!”

---

“Is that cat in a onesie?”

“Uh…no?”

“Yeah, right!” Murphy laughed as he wheeled over to Andre sitting by the fountain in the courtyard, his eyes trained on the little white outfit fit snug over the limbs of a dark grey kitten previously prowling around the courtyard. “That definitely looks like a onesie to me.”

“And why, pray tell, does this interest you so much?” Andre asked, folding his arms indignantly.

“From my own personal experience with felines, there’s only a 47.6% chance of them wearing outer garments willingly!” Murphy simply said. “How would you know this cat would be willing to wear this outfit? It’s not for a circus now, is it?”

Truth be told, the onesie wasn’t that ugly. The white cloth that donned over the cat had little paint splatters in all the house colours speckled evenly over the fabric, and there was even a little hood to protect its head from all kinds of weather phenomena. A little hole has also been cut out for the tail to poke through. Though it was a good fit for the cat--not too tight, but not too baggy--the cat did look a little uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the sad gleaming eyes did nothing to catch either boy’s attention. 

“Come on now, Murphy! Being a style wizard can’t just stop at designing clothes for wizards and witches,” Andre tried to explain. “I gotta think outside the box, too! Think about all the trendsetters cats can inspire! And I’ll have you know, this is not for a circus--”

“Then what is it for? A gift for Mrs. Norris?” Murphy shuddered at the thought of the cat. “Actually, you know what, scratch that. I don’t think Mrs. Norris even wants clothes on her.”

“Why does it matter?” Andre inquired again. “I just thought I’d expand my talents, that’s all!”

Just as Murphy was about to argue again, the cat leapt off the ledge Andre was sitting at and began to hightail towards the castle, darting out of sight.

“NO!”

Instantly Andre leapt to his feet, eyes wide in shock as he watched the cat run inside. Without a second glance back at Murphy, he ran right after it, chasing it all the way through the castle. 

“Here, kitty kitty kitty!” he kept shouting, trying his best to weave through the massive throngs of students making their way to class. “Oof! No! You’ll ruin the outfit!”

Through the corridors he ran, tripping over his shoes occasionally and causing students to dive out of the way the moment they saw him and the cat coming through like Bludgers honing in on a target. Even the professors were rather surprised to see him racing down the halls like this--poor Professor Sprout even accidentally dropped her sack of dragon manure on the floor, almost spilling the dirt over the tiles and his shoes. Eventually as he neared the Prefect’s Bathroom, he saw the cat dart right in--and his heart sank. He was not a Prefect himself--how could he get his mini cat outfit back?

“Andre--I can’t wheel that fast!” Murphy wheezed behind him, his arms working furiously over his wheelchair. “Hey--where’d the cat go?”

“In the Prefect’s Bathroom!” Andre responded, clutching at the stitch in his chest. “And--we cannot get in.”

“Drat.”

“Drat indeed.”

They needn’t wait long, however. Seconds later, Clara emerged from the Prefect’s Bathroom, holding the little onesie Andre made in one hand. She cleared her throat, and the two boys turned to her, both eyes wide in shock--whatever exhaustion they felt before had all but faded away now.

“What--you’re an Animagus?!” Murphy exclaimed.

Clara ignored Murphy’s question and turned to Andre, pressing the onesie in his hands. “It’s a cute onesie, Andre--but next time, see if you can find a cat that...is a little more willing to be your little model.”

Andre laughed sheepishly at the remark, but he was glad Clara wasn’t mad at him. “Sorry about that, Curse-Breaker. Should have realized it sooner.”

“See, that’s what you get for randomly choosing a cat to try on your little feline outfit!” Murphy eventually remarked with a laugh. 

“HEY!”