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beastmasterr:
For Hogwarts students, lunch break provided an enjoyable opportunity to mix and mingle, share the latest gossip or complaints about homework and teachers with their friends, or simply turn off their brains for a few minutes of blissful nothingness before the afternoon lessons would stuff them to painful degree once more. Most students, that was.
For Newt Scamander, lunch break was neither a time of social networking nor comfortable leisure. Usually, he was one of the first to wolf down his meal before the great hall was even half way filled with people, and one of the first to dash off again. Aside from the fact that he disliked noisy crowds, he simply had too much to do to hang around and listen to Ernie Macmillan’s monologue on their latest herbology homework. The babies needed feeding.
And so, as he made his way up to the abandoned classroom he had chosen as his little refuge, Newt found himself anything but delighted when the sound of quick footsteps and a rattling metal box suddenly caught up to him. He turned around, already expecting either Peeves or Filch to make his day a lot more miserable than it needed to be. All the more unexpected was the sight of a red-faced, breathless gryffindor coming to a halt at the foot of the stairs he was just about to climb. Almost instinctively, Newt stepped aside to make room for her.
For a few moments, Hermione just caught her breath. She didn’t want to address Newt while fighting to get air into her lungs. So she just offered him a few curious gazes before her breathing steadied and she felt confident to talk.
“Hello.” The awkwardness in the room could be cut with a knife. Hermione had many strengths and talents but interacting with people she wasn’t familiar with was not one of them. She wasn’t Ron who easily humoured people and made new friends easily or Harry who was polite and knew how to have a pleasant, neutral conversation. “Sorry to disturb you. I just..wanted to talk to you about something.”
Added to that was the fact that Hermione had come to discuss something that was anything but neutral, but rather very opinionated and not something you’d talk about over the afternoon tea. “Can I...?” She gestured to an empty chair that was rather far away from where Newt was seated, but she wanted to give him space. This might be a little too much space, but rather this than making him uncomfortable. Seemed like the choice was between awkward and uncomfortable, so Hermione chose the former.
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bokketo:
Draco was too busy trying to cover for his pain to think too deeply about things, but the delicate touch of Hermione’s — Granger’s — magic against his own made him fight not to shiver. She seemed to pinch off bits and pieces of the malaise clinging to him with such gentle surety that it felt like she must have done this a thousand times. He was sure she hadn’t. Magic this advanced rarely even showed up anywhere, never mind her having to deal with it.
But he, too, was pushing his magic up to meet her, a sort of internal undulation that he was barely congizant of. Her words snapped him back away from that and he nodded ; the wound on his chest bled as if in reply. His hold upon his magic loosened slowly to allow her to pick up the slack… but the tightness did not fade. If anything, it racheted higher, the curse tugging and tugging furiously as if intending to wrench his magic clean off of him.
Draco screamed out in shock and pain, scrambling to get control back but only ended up latching onto Hermione’s magic instead. He didn’t even have the ability to speak, gasping raggedly, but his words echoed out of him and into her mind directly.
“Help! It’s taking my magic away! I can’t hold it back!“
Hermione gasped when Draco’s magic clung to hers all of a sudden. It had gone well, she had already felt that they were about to be finished with the procedure, but looked like the curse was not ready to give up this easily. His chest bleeding was a visible indication of that.
Healers were trained to remain calm in emergencies, and though Hermione had never experienced something like this before, she took a deep breath and in her head recited the words of their teachers and instructors like a mantra. “I got you, Draco. I got you.”
She poured all the confidence into their procedure into her magic, hoping he could feel it through his panic. “I won’t let it take anything away. I have a firm grasp on it. And on you.” As if to demonstrate, she reached out with her free hand placed it on his arm.
It became physically straining to fight the curse back and keep a hold on Draco’s magic on her own though. She tried to show him where his magic was, like a golden thread amidst the darkness, not unlike his hair. She spoke to him through their minds now, her eyes closed as her face was strained under the pressure. It’s here, look? Your magic, it’s right here. Take it back, we can do it together. The curse is almost dislodged from you, almost!
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"She’s prettier than you"
lol, Idc
"She knows more languages than you"
*slaps table in academic inferiority*
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THIS SCENE HURT
Queer loneliness at its finest
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candere:
i really want to write dumbledore send help
yet ANOTHER gryffindor kfjbrkrgh
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@beastmasterr
Why were others not as outraged as she was? Hermione felt like she had discovered one of life’s greatest secrets but nobody realised just how fundamentally enlightening that revelation was. And the more research she did into the topic, the worse it got.
House-elves were not only not allowed to carry wands, or make use of the very few free commodities Wizarding Britain provided, like flu networks, but they were not even paid for their labour! Not even in Hogwarts.
Hermione understood, on a subconcious level, that if you grew up with the notion that this was completely normal, you will hardly find any reason to change it but she did not grow up with it, she felt like an outsider who saw more clearly than everyone else and yet nobody listened to her.
She had to pull out the big guns! So she packed her things, ignored Harry and Ron’s suspicious stares when she told them she had something to do this lunch break, and went to go find some Hufflepuffs to ask them about Newt Scamander, a boy with a reputation. Someone this fond and good with magical creatures and beings may understand where Hermione was coming from.
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i really want to write dumbledore send help
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@discipulusmaleficus // cont.
Harry looked up from the scars painting Kal’s body with his brows arched. “You’d be a fantastic swimsuit model,” he corrected him. “I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”
The scars had something beautiful. They were unsettling because Harry didn’t truly know what they were capable of, what kind of magic was involved when Kal got them, but they were, nontheless, somehow very appealing. Harry didn’t much like his own meager but famous scar on his forehead, and considering it did nothing but hurt and connect him to a madman, there was little to no appeal to it.
But Kal’s, they felt powerful. “Are they dangerous? If I snuggle up with you, is accidental death by scar and rune a possible thing?”
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“𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐈'𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑?”
Jane “El” Hopper, as written by Chloe Independant, private, mutuals only and selective multimuse RP blog
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proditeur:
it’s an unexpected response—and regulus finds himself again biting his lips together to conceal his laughter. if he were a wiser, lesser-stupid boy then he might admit that he was enjoying the conversation. that perhaps he was getting on well with his upperclassman.
but as it is, regulus will not be lesser-stupid for many years to come; and so he twists his brow and squeezes his fists together in his pockets and wills his amusement to die.
“stack? i think they do. we could find out, though; you’d be performing a great service to the future of wizardingkind. how noble of you, lupin!” though he likes to think that even his companions, with their wild disregard for rule and morality, might not go so far as to do that in the middle of a school… well. maybe he shouldn’t make assumptions.
“they would. but probably for a very different reason than yours would defend you—as i’m equally sure they would do.” they would protect remus because they love him, wouldn’t they? and regulus’ friends—they’d protect him because to do otherwise is a personal insult. “it’s probably for the best that you don’t hit me, then. think of what it’d do to the social hierarchy.”
“That’s me. Noble Lupin. They will build a bust of me, after my death. I hope they put it in the DADA corridor, it’s my favourite.” He was still grinning but he sensed that Regulus had become thoughtful. Maybe he felt bad for enjoying their little talk? Or maybe Regulus was just as confused as Remus was. Until now, Remus had firmly believed he only got along with ‘one’ Black brother.
“Does that mean you’ve never been in a brawl before?” Remus asked, brows furrowed in interest. Since anyone who dared lay a hand on Regulus was bound to find a quick end, the answer was probably no. And if his fellow Gryffindors weren’t such utter hooligans, Remus would not have been brawls either. He feared he might rip someone’s arm out of their socket.
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I always imagine Remus in his tiny kitchen of his tiny house. Although I don't know if he cooks.
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Hello everyone, i’m terribly sorry for this unannounced (and unintended) hiatus! I suck fkefrbfjk pls forgive me
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Happy passover to those who celebrate <3 i had a lovely first seder with the family yesterday and I hope to get some writing done today and tomorrow.
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My boss is running me ragged and i also moved a few weeks ago so everything is in disarray. I def hope to get more things done here soon, as soon as my workload has gone back to normal.
In the meantime feel free to find me on obi-wan or padmé, currently i’m splitting my time between these two and here.
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