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Summary
Harry was a little alarmed to feel his pants getting tighter almost as quickly. He reached his hand out to tear it off the board, but it was stuck fast. He glanced back up at the main notice. All prompts must stay on the board for the duration of the filling period.
“The fuck,” Harry said, looking back down. He tore his eyes away, only to see his name again. He skimmed the parchments. His name was there … a lot. Honestly, he saved the sodding school, surely that was enough bloody inter-house unity to last a lifetime. And some of these prompts were … weird.
“I’m not getting pregnant for the sake of inter-house unity,” Harry said, glaring at one trio of prompts. Or getting anybody else pregnant, he thought, as he glanced at a fourth.
Or, Harry really should have paid more attention at McGonagall's announcements at the start-of-term feast, since this really wasn't the 'inter-house unity' she was talking about.