Hufflepuff Blanket Novels & Stories

But there’s something about it that makes my chest pull. “I think I want to finish it,” I say. Jacob’s hand brushes mine. “Let’s do it.” And just like that, we move. Quietly. Slowly. We shift blankets. Layer pillows. Add a weighted throw that smells like both of us. Jacob brings out a hoodie I’ve stolen more times than I can count and places it on the edge, where it’ll be close but not overwhelming. I tuck in a soft stuffed wolf I barely remember accepting from the estate staff during my second week here. I remember the day I unwrapped it, the way it had made me feel—childish and raw and seen all at once.

It looks heavy and while I used to find the layers annoying, on her they’ll just be more of a present to unwrap. My fingers wander over the material, amazed at how perfectly it was sewn. The back has the absolute look of a corset, but I can tell by how easily she’s breathing it isn’t a real one. “Honey you forgot this,” I hear and turn to see the Luna with a heavy white shawl. It’s made of rabbit fur and it's like a cloud. I nod in approval, because it is rather chilly this evening. I help her into it, and Peneople leads us to where pictures are being taken. The annoying process goes on far longer than I’d like, especially when everyone wants a picture with Harlow.

“These ones are for colic. These are for gas. And these… I think these are anti–gravity?” I burst out laughing, clutching my belly. “Anti–gravity? Really?” He shrugged. “I don't know, I panicked. There's too many.” We keptngoing, collecting soft blankets, a nightlight shaped like a little fox, and a ridiculous plush wolf nearly the size of a toddler. “I'm telling you, he’ll love it,” jay said, holding it up and giving it a shake. “Its like me, but fluffier.” “You're already fluffy,” I said before I could stop myself.

In the bottom of her mother’s closet, beneath layers of folded blankets, she finds a box. “What is it?” I ask. She opens it, revealing a blanket—old, faded, but lovingly preserved. Beneath it is a small necklace, the metal tarnished with age. “A baby blanket,” she murmurs, running her fingers over the worn fabric. “But it’s so old. And there’s no smell on it at all.” I take it from her, bringing it to my nose. She’s right; there is no scent, which is strange for something this old. But when I reach out with my magic, I feel something.

They swoosh out of the place with speed. Irish didn’t see them there before, she thought that it was the darkness, after all. The place is dark. “In a way, the thing I took isn’t from you.” “What are you talking about, brute.” Zephyr rolls his eyes, “Again with the insults, Irish. They are getting old.” The creature stands behind Zephyr as he turns, it places a blanket in his hands and rushes away without a sound. “What’s that?” Irish’s eyes the item in his hands as he walks closer without uttering a word.

I end up crossing my arms. Lennox tilts his head, eyeing me up and down. "Blanca wanted me to. She didn't think I belonged in Gryffindor." Apparently, this time he got Ravenclaw. My mom freaked out, and now she's ordering him some Ravenclaw scarves to complement the Gryffindor paraphernalia she bought him years ago. I nod. "Cool." I unbutton one of the buttons on my collar, my bowtie already undone.

Like someone had tried to erase it. Or claw their way through it. My fingers hovered over the seam. The whisper sighed beneath the floor. Little heir. The plank popped loose. I flinched. Damien moved closer instantly, but did not touch me. Inside the narrow space beneath the floorboards was a bundle wrapped in faded white cloth. A baby blanket. My baby blanket. I knew it before I touched it. Pale cotton. Frayed edges. Tiny blue flowers stitched along one corner. Only now, silver thread had been wrapped around it.

"And it's a nice blanket. It's not too thick or thin, it's soft and light, and look, there's a pretty pattern, if you look closely." Regina examined the blanket closely. The light blue color had a silvery texture that, when the light caught it, revealed a pattern. Atlas, who had been watching Regina and Kane's interaction, also studied the blanket closely out of curiosity. "I don't see any pattern," Atlas muttered. "There's just color—Ah!" Regina was startled and turned to Atlas. "What? What? You surprised me, honey!" "Look!" Atlas pointed to the blanket. "There's a picture of a baby on this blanket. It'll show up when you move it toward the light."

A cloak lined with fur. Real fur. Not cheap. Not rushed. Made for me. I hold the cloak against my cheek. Why is he doing this? He bought me like property. He locked me in this room. He assigned a guard to watch my every move. And now he sends me warm food and soft clothes and a blanket for the cold nights. I do not understand him. I do not understand any of this. The blanket is heavy. I spread it across my bed. The wool is thick. The color is deep blue. Like the sky just before dawn.

“I like that combo.” “Of course you do.” I stretched, sighing. “Vaerion? Can we get some fuzzy blankets in here?” Poof. Blankets appeared, soft, oversized, perfect shades of black, moss green, and moonlight cream. I giggled. “Thank you, Vaerion.” The sconces dimmed in reply. The screen flickered alive with a rom com, a broody boy, a quirky nerd girl, obvious trope central. “Really, Vaerion? A rom com?” Zephyr groaned.