XXX. Stormier

Daphne hadn't seen anything like it before. The weather was stormier than she ever would have thought possible – the rain was falling in sheets, the trees smashing against the walls of the house, threatening to lose their roots and fly into the air. If there hadn't been magic around the house, they probably would have been crushed under rubble by now.

She wasn't surprised when the door creaked open and Astoria came in. Astoria had never liked storms. She was clutching her pillow and a blanket, the flashes of lightening making her look almost like a ghost: only, as Daphne quickly reminded herself, ghosts weren't have been scared of storms. At least none of the ones in their house were.

"I don't like this, Daphne," Astoria mumbled. "I don't like this weather at all. It's not natural."

"It's probably dementors," Daphne replied. "Everyone knows they've been wreaking havoc with the weather all summer."

"At least its only the weather they've ruined," Astoria sighed as she sat down next to her sister, wrapping her blanket around them both and staring out at the rain, terrified. There was an unspoken 'so far' in her sentence that Daphne didn't even want to think about.