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witchynyx · 3 months ago

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Bad Witchy Authors: Shawn Robbins & Leanna Greenaway

Ok, so I see a lot of posts discussing bad witchy authors and I have never seen these two mentioned, which, just... boggles the mind.

So I guess I'm sharing some of my notes!

Their books are super-popular, but Ima reference some of my 24 pages of notes on Wiccapedia (2011)

This book is gorgeous, suuuper-accessible (almost any bookstore or library with any witchy books has this book), and it's the first book a lot of witch-curious folks pick up.

I don't have the brain-power to organise thoughts into topics, so I'm just gonna drop some of my 'favourite' quotes in the order they appear, for folks to make their own judgements...

Preface: Using Practical Magick . . . in Everyday Life

“Although there are modern Wiccans who still worship the traditional gods and goddesses, many witches... prefer a newer branch of witchcraft based on angel energy, known as Angelic Wicca”

“From the fourteenth to the eighteenth centuries, for complex reasons that scholars are still studying, waves of paranoia, hysteria, and suspicion set off witch hunts throughout the Western world, where those accused of witchcraft and trafficking with the devil were tried in both ecclesiastical and secular courts”

“Lesser mortals, and some religious faiths, blame an evil entity such as the devil for the negativity that mankind creates.... ”

“.. the foundation of our faith is much the same as it was hundreds of years ago”

Introduction: A Witch’s Tool Kit

The Pentacle:

“In pagan times the symbol was often worn as an amulet for spiritual protection and to ensure a safe, happy homecoming”

“..because most witches want to practice purely white magick and not associate themselves with anything negative”

“The sweep, or brush [of a besom], corresponds to the female genitalia, and the staff is associated with the male phallus— therefore it is a symbol of the male and the female combined”

Chapter 1: Witches Never Die, They Just Get Recycled

“We are all reincarnating at different rates. This is why some people are truly wonderful and some are, well, not”

“When you meet lovely, kind, and caring people, it is probable that they have reincarnated many times. Their endless incarnations have raised their spirits’ vibration, so they automatically show patience and strive to do everything right in their lives. People who are mean, selfish, and egotistic probably haven’t reincarnated as much. That isn’t to say that these people are wicked; they simply haven’t learned all their lessons yet. Think of them as bratty adolescents and the sympathetic ones as the grandparents of the reincarnation process—regardless of their age!”

Dealing with the Dark Side: [Paraphrased]: “Sometimes people are repeatedly evil and abusive, so they’re reincarnated as victims of these things to learn their lesson”

“You find many battered wives opening shelters for those who are going through violent relationships....”

“Guides, or “white lighters,” as they are often called today”

Chapter 2: Angels

“These beautiful beings have always had their place in the craft, but they used to play a secondary role to the more traditional Wiccan gods and goddesses... Today, you won’t find many British witches connecting with the gods and goddesses”

Chapter 4: Magickal Moon

“The moon was worshipped in many early religions as a goddess, and it has always been seen as a feminine symbol”

The Dark Moon:

“Sadly, many people who practice black magick do so at this time”

“You might think that someone working on the darker side of the occult could not influence any spells or rituals that you might be performing, but the collective power mustered by these individuals can cause cosmic havoc: our spells may become confused or simply not work at all. It is a shame, because the brilliance and power of this phase really is incredible, and without the negative manipulation I am sure we witches could do a great deal of good in it.”

Chapter 5: Spells and Candle Magick

Mostly this was a mix of ok info, and subjective info presented as objective fact, but that latter part is the theme of the book.

Chapter 6: Cell Phone Sorcery and Microwave Magick

“I can’t take all the credit for this new way of [cell phone] spell-making. My trusted friend and coauthor, Shawn, helped me”

“I’ll let you in on another little secret: we witches don’t really bother with our cauldrons much these days. We have evolved with the times and we use our microwaves and convection ovens... Any spell that entails mixing or brewing concoctions can easily be done in a microwave. It takes less time and the end results are actually enhanced, mainly because of the powerful electrical energies that the microwave transmits”

Chapter 8: Crystal

“You should wash your crystals once a week or so. Crystals can absorb energies around them, so just as we need to wash to stay clean, you need to wash your crystals. You can put them in the bath with you (to be cleansed of external energies and infused with yours) or simply soak them in a bowl of water” (Nb: A lot of crystals are damaged (or even super-unsafe) in water, which, obviously, is not mentioned at any point)

“If you are feeling on edge, go outside on a dry day with a cup of table salt to a place where you will not be disturbed. Scatter the salt in a large circle around you and place the rose quartz in the center” (Nb: DO NOT put salt on the ground outside!)

Chapter 9: A Witch's Menagerie

This is mostly a bunch of super-subjective collection of things that "witches (objectively/universally) do/believe" that I've mostly never heard of - obviously there are a lot of things I've never heard of, but in a decade, you'd think if every single witch believes/does something, I'd have stumbled across it at some point?

“Okay, so maybe you are not as animal-mad as I am, but a true witch will endeavor to have at least one critter as a companion in their lifetime”

"I may love all animals, and these insects may look very similar to bees, but I have to admit that hornets and wasps are annoying pests”

Chapter 10: Love Wisdom

“For modern witches, effigies have always been considered to be a little primitive, a little on the dark side”

“Every relationship that we enter into is spiritually planned (even the bad ones). It’s decided before we reincarnate who we are meant to share part, or all, of our lives with. This is because every time we venture into a relationship, we learn something from it. If it wasn’t our fate to be with our partners, we would never have been at that particular place at that particular time when we had our first meeting. We wouldn’t have been attracted to them, for starters, so something must have happened to ignite that spark. No matter how difficult some relationships are, it was fate that brought you together”

Chapter 11: Handfastings

So aside from a bunch of vague and mostly fictional/confused history, apparently every wedding/handfasting is different, but that doesn't stop them from laying out every specific 'universal' detail, including the attire, the catering, the gifts, etc, etc, etc...

“In pagan times, rice throwing was believed to transfer the spirit of the fertile grain to the bride and groom, ensuring that they would have a prosperous harvest and a fertile union”

Chapter 13: Gaze into the Future

Just... full of the G-slur, fetishisation and demonisation of Romani stereotypes, make-up history, and 'people in the past were unevolved and unintelligent and luckily we're now so much better in every way' (also a repeated theme)

[Psychic skills and divination aren't my area, so I skipped the rest of the chapters on those topics]

19 Dos and Don’ts about Witchcraft

“These words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: “An ye harm none, do what ye will.” —from “The Wiccan Rede,” anonymous” (ie 'We're Wicca experts but either don't know Doreen Valiente wrote this, or don't want to credit her')

“Most religions follow rules and guidelines, and although Wicca is considered to be a relaxed faith, we also have strict laws that we follow to the letter”

“Just because we can make magickal things appear out of thin air, it doesn’t mean that it’s always the right thing to do”

“There are people the world over who perform black magick because they have been treated badly or are seeking revenge for a wrong. Some are warped with jealousy and wish a bad fate on those more fortunate than themselves, and although it does sound bizarre that in the twenty-first century people are still putting curses on others, it’s really not that uncommon”

“On the other hand, people who use these skills to do harm are just self-interested souls who use magick as a way of gaining control and power over others, using it purely for their own gratification”

“The craft is all about sending out positive intentions”

“On the other hand, your spells could be failing because you are tired or sick. Your aura has to be in tip-top condition if your spell is to succeed” (Sorry, if you're chronically-ill you can't do magic)

The Ten Commandments of Witchcraft:

ALWAYS ENSURE THAT NO OTHER PERSON WILL BE HARMED AS A RESULT OF YOUR MAGICK. To call yourself a witch means that you will always endeavor to do the right thing and send out only love and kindness to others.

KEEP YOUR THOUGHTS FREE OF NEGATIVITY— REMEMBER THE REBOUND EFFECT. Keep in mind that every thought you send out can just as easily bounce off the receiver and be hurled back at you at the speed of light. You created the negative fog, so it belongs to you!

NEVER CAST A SPELL WHEN YOU ARE UPSET OR UNHEALTHY. Funny as it may seem, our thought projections can go haywire if we are cross, unhappy, or sick. Spells may fail to work, or the results may be confusing. Therefore it’s imperative that we be in the right frame of mind and physically healthy before we begin any magick

THINK POSITIVELY. If you smile, then you are more likely to be happy. Every time a miserable thought pops into your head, shake it away and try to think about something nice. Your aura is a magnetic energy field, and if it’s drab or gloomy, you will attract disruptive and depressing situations

CREATE A PEACEFUL, CALM ENVIRONMENT FOR YOUR SPELL CASTING

CALL UPON YOUR ANGELS TO ASSIST YOU

RESPECT EVERYTHING... try as hard as you can to eat all the right foods... Eat badly and you'll feel bad.

WISH FOR MONEY BUT BE CAREFUL OF GREED. If you need to cast spells for material gain…

NEVER INFLUENCE A PERSON’S MIND WITH MAGICK... You could indirectly take that person off the path they are destined to travel and deprive them of lessons they need to learn.... If you’ve reeled them back in, you have interfered with their karma, and you could get your karmic wrist slapped when you eventually pass over into spirit

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. No amount of magick will work unless you have faith in yourself

Chapter 20: Destiny Is Calling You

“Make a talisman, which is a stronger protector than an amulet”

“Smudge your space and your aura every now and then”

I made a 'Bad Witch Book Bingo', and was genuinely surprised this book only got bingo 3 times 😅

#bad books #bad authors #original content #witchynyx

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th3-new-rom4ntics · 2 months ago

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illvermorny (yes with two Ls) in my wizarding world dr

introduction;

one of my least favourite aspects of the wider harry potter universe is the lack of interest that the author has in fleshing out the universe. there are so many questions that i, as a shifter and fundamentally curious person, have about how magic works, different magical societies and more.

the map above is a map of all the wizarding schools in the world. not many, right? and to top it all off, the way they perform magic is identical between schools. again, ridiculous.

in reality, this is not how society works. i'll use philosophy as an example; eastern and western philosophies are fundamentally different due to how isolated these two geocultural entities were from each other and how their values were intrinsically different, especially in the past.

so, when i was narrowing down my harry potter reality, i decided to make my own version of illvermorny school that i felt was far more fleshed out compared to the vague, uninteresting backstory that the author gave.

maybe if she spent less time being a transphobic prick and more time actually writing an interesting story, i wouldn't have to do this, but i digress.

here's illvermorny, where i attended school in my dr. (as an additional note, i spelt illvermorny with a double l at first without realising that it was one l, but it eventually stuck because i thought it looked better.)

part one (history);

there are about 200 or something magic schools in the world. most are small, regional schools focused on providing a decent education in magic to open up doors. some, like durmstrang/beauxbatons/hogwarts/illvermorny, are incredibly prestigious, open to only the absolute best students or those from prestigious families.

illvermorny college of magic was founded when the first pilgrims settled in america, unaware of the wizarding stowaways on the mayflower. although the indigenous peoples of america have their own magic traditions, the few wizards that snuck onto america to escape the chaos of england after the founding of hogwarts were the ones that brought the ‘spell system’ of magic to the country. the first students at illvermorny were young, muggleborn wizards and witches, the first of its kind. indigenous students were allowed to study as well, creating a culture of magic that went beyond the typical pureblood-muggleborn dichotomy of europe and britain. the school's first few years were incredibly proseporous as the magical community thrived in early america.

eventually, however, suspicions rose amongst muggles about illvermorny and the earliest recorded witch trials happened. young wizards and witches were rounded up like cattle and burned at the stake for so-called satanic activity.

only a couple of wizarding families managed to escape, trekking up to applachia, creating modern illvermorny. early modern illvermorny had many strange, outright cultish rituals due to its isolation.

part two (culture);

the school only started accepting new students during the british colonisation period, through a scouting program thats famous across the world for its scale and intensity; illvermorny scouts are said to be absolutely everywhere in america, mexico and canada. students outside these countries have to personally message principal regis to request an interview.

the modern school has no dorms and no sorting totally unlike hogwarts. rather, there are three housing towers where students stay, named after water (maem), fire (iesh), air (avir), the three classical elements. - students live, eat and sleep in these dorms, where the majority of their relationships will be formed. along with that, there are 5 covens active at illvermorny, which is how extracurricular student relationships are fostered.

students board k-12 and spend all of their youth at the school. classes operate on a university style elective system for years 7+ where different timing of classes and professors are highly valued.

there is no uniform or dress code during class, however there is a formal uniform for special occassions.

wands in illvermorny is very different to hogwarts. wands are highly customisable, and typically glass blown by artisans. they are made for the user, customised to their preference. a famous wand making family is the van der zee family.

the actual curriculum at illvermorny in the early years is focused on practical applications of magic. spells are taught exclusively non-verbally at first, and wandless as well. in senior years, high specialisation in fields is prized, particularly because illvermorny values academic rigour. - illvermorny participates in the quadwizard tournament with beauxbatons, hogwarts and durmstrang, and have won 200 years in a row.

part three (american wizarding society as a whole);

blood purity is not nearly as prized by american wizards. rather, wealth is. wealthy, old money, prominent families such as the hastings of pennsylvania rule over american wizarding society. although these oligarchs claim to care about progress, what they value most is maintaining their power.

on another note, american wizarding society is very secretive. the oldest wizarding families have almost no interactions with ‘nomajs’ due to their fear of persecution. each state in america has its own magic community, but the two most prominent ones are in NY and california. a strong rivalry exists between these factions.

the strongest debate in american magical politics is that of the nomaj problem. so-called traditionalists and progressives argue about nomaj’s connection to magical society, if families of magical students should be aware of their status and even if nomaj should be allowed to interact with magical beings at all, even in a non-magical context.

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thinking-emoji · 5 months ago

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While we're at it. Here's the Radio Adelaide interview!

Transcript under the cut!

Interviewer: What's been going on with me earlier today was I spoke with Dan and Phil, who are on their Terrible Influence tour at the moment. I think they're in Sydney right now. Even though I had to call them on the phone via England, they're going to be on at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre next week, Monday the 16th of December. And these guys, they're a British internet- YouTube- radio hosts. They're critics of games. They're book authors. Dan and Phil, they're currently in Australia having their Terrible Influence tour which lands in Adelaide at the Entertainment Centre next week. And it's attempting to take back what the internet took from them. So it's allegedly a screamingly hilarious live stage show. I have no doubt that it is hilarious. They're older, gayer. Phil's gone blonde evidently and nothing is off limits. Now I was brought to the attention of them by some younger folk, who asked me to ask them some certain questions and throw some sort of slightly strange questions at them. And I haven't got time to include all of those questions. And also I had a call after the interview from one of the duo suggesting that “ehh, you might get trolled if you ask a question like that and people misinterpret it” because I was asking- I believe they've become a couple. I'm not sure if they've got married but they may have got married or they may just be, like, going steady but they're a terrific pair of comic lads. In the- in the vein of Kenny Everett, sort of. They don't have a TV show as such. They were both YouTubers, which means that they had little YouTube shows and then they started guesting on each other's show and then they eventually started doing stuff together. Very interesting lads. And I just really want to play the interview now.

Dan: I've got a mullet now that I'm in Australia because apparently that's what the people do. I just think Australians have more fun. So I wanted to appropriate a bit of the culture while we’re here doing the show.

Phil: I think it's more of a micro mullet, Dan, though. You know, you haven't gone full mullet, it's more of a micro…

Dan: It's a mullet without the T. It's just a mull-e.

Interviewer: (laughs) Mull-e. All right. Just with that sort of hard...

Dan: Without the T, yeah.

Interviewer: Hard E on the end. How has your tour been going so far, gentlemen?

Dan: It's been amazing to be in Australia. No offence. We loved having a great time in America. But we're very happy to be in Australia. Although – I know it's summer. Why is it so hot? Nowhere on Earth it should be this warm.

Interviewer: You haven't reached Adelaide yet, have you?

Dan: No, God. Don't tell me it's warmer.

Interviewer: Yes, yes. We're in the middle of a very dry, arid area. Very isolated. A long way from anywhere. But there's only about maybe 30 or 40 tickets left at your gig here.

Dan: We're happy for the people of Adelaide. You know, they're out here in that dry, arid desert. And there's nothing to do but come to the Dan and Phil show. And we love them for that. They're all making responsible financial decisions. So we're very grateful for all the people that are coming to the show.

Phil: And if there's 40 people listening, come hang out with us. It's going to be a fun time.

Dan: Yeah. What else are you doing on that night?

Phil: We're going to be pumping the air con out.

Dan: Yeah, just come to have somewhere cool to sit in the theatre. You know what I mean?

Phil: Yeah.

Interviewer: Are you collecting things from your hangouts that you're going to discuss at the next show? Like before a show, if people hang out with you, give you a piece of artwork or a little letter or a note, something like that. Do you then discuss it in front of the next...

Dan: Oh, a big trendy thing these days. Yeah. Taylor Swift has started this trend of the bracelets that people spell out things on. So people would make like a little bracelet that says Dan or Phil in beads. And the other day I had someone that gave me a bracelet that said Vegemite on it. (Interviewer laughs) And I was like, what the heck? And they said, you don't understand. This is incredibly culturally important. So I was like, okay, thank you. I will cherish this Vegemite bracelet.

Phil: Yeah. I got one that said Koala Daddy. I'm not sure what that meant, but-

Interviewer: Koala Daddy?

Phil: Yeah. I think that's what they were calling me.

Interviewer: Have you actually dipped your tongue into any Vegemite as yet?

Phil: I have. I would have to say it was one of the most horrific experiences of my life. I'm sorry.

Dan: What, Phil, you don't like a yeast-based condiment?

Phil: No.

Dan: How dare you.

Phil: Dan loves it though. He's a bit of a…

Dan: I'm just a yeasty kind of guy.

Interviewer: Yeah. It's kind of up there with Marmite, isn't it?

Phil: It is, but I only eat sweet things, so I couldn't handle it. But Dan was eating his second portion of toast this morning. He loved it.

Interviewer: Yeah, yeah. It's good for you.

Phil: And last time we were in Adelaide, we did a vlog where we explored the town, didn't we? We got some Tim Tams. We did a Tim Tam slam.

Interviewer: Fun!

Dan: Yeah, the national sport.

Interviewer: The national sport, sucking coffee through a Tim Tam.

Dan: Hell yeah.

Phil: I can get down with that.

Interviewer: Yeah yeah. It's a lot of fun to do. You realise that our Premier is the one who started the ball rolling with the social media ban for under 16-year-olds? You're lucky that you're here now at this stage of your career rather than at the beginning of your career because there's a lot of young people who have grown with you who will be able to come and see your show.

Dan: Yeah, absolutely.

Interviewer: Are you relying on them sort of moving forward with you?

Dan: People have been with us for a long time and people tell us some things and it's very disturbing.

Phil: Yeah, we've had some people meet us that are like, I watched you 10 years ago, I'm still watching you now. I've got a whole child now and it's like, what is happening? (Interviewer laughs) Time isn’t real.

Interviewer: It's kind of a historic moment. You're probably the first English lads to have linked in to YouTube and the internet and gone off the way that you have.

Dan: No, we were, well, we come from an early generation. Phil has been doing it so long that you couldn't even make a career off YouTube yet. There was no monetisation. He was just doing it out of boredom. That's how terrifying it is.

Phil: I'm a YouTube dinosaur, so yeah, I think definitely I was one of the first ones to do it. And it's crazy that we're still doing it now, 15 years later.

Interviewer: It's basically become a career for you, hasn't it?

Dan: Absolutely. And none of it was planned. It's been a constant, you know, runaway train since day one. And the emergency brake’s gone off a long time ago.

Interviewer: What kind of experiences are you getting to have in your downtime while you're in Australia this time around?

Dan: Well, I wanted to go to the beach and then Phil said there's a high chance we're going to get eaten by a shark. And I was like, a high chance? I don't know about that. And then we asked a guy and he was like, oh, no, they're out there. I see them every week, so...

Phil: I'm hoping to look into the eyes of a wombat and have an emotional connection.

Dan: A deep spiritual moment, ok.

Phil: My favourite animal.

Interviewer: A wombat?

Phil: Yeah, I love a wombat.

Dan: Underrated.

Interviewer: Do you like the hairy-nosed wombat or just the plain old brown one?

Phil: I'm not sure of the difference. Maybe I need to find that out. Maybe that's going to be my quest in Adelaide.

Dan: You need to meet both and make a decision.

Phil: Yeah I will.

Interviewer: Yeah, if you come face-to-face or nose-to-nose even with a hairy-nosed wombat, he's more likely to roll over and let you cuddle his tummy. The other ones have got a wet nose -

Phil: Okay, good to know.

Interviewer: -and they're a little bit more aggressive.

Phil: Okay.

Dan: Sounds like me.

(Interviewer laughs)

Interviewer: Have the audiences been laughing at all the right spots so far?

Dan: Definitely. And they've been laughing at all the inappropriate spots where they're not supposed to as well. So we'll take it. You either have an audience that laughs all the time, even at inappropriate moments, or a quiet one. And I don't want a quiet one.

Phil: Also, the good thing about our show is we try to give everyone a recap of everything that's happened in the last 15 years. So if you're like, oh, I used to watch Dan and Phil a while ago, you can still come along and you're going to get right up to speed.

Dan: We know that people are dragging their husbands, their mothers, their older sisters to the show. And these people are like, what the heck is going on? So don't worry, we covered the base.

Interviewer: Sounds pretty darn good to me. I hope you have a fantastic time in Adelaide and you continue to enjoy yourselves.

Dan: Thank you.

Interviewer: Ride the wave. Don't worry about sharks.

Phil: Excellent. Well, yeah, we're looking forward to it. Thanks. Nice to speak to you.

Interviewer: You too. Cheers, lads. Dan and Phil.

Phil: Cheers!

Dan: Bye.

Interviewer: They'll be at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre next Monday coming on the 16th. So if you are keen to see them do their thing live on stage, go and join the masses that have already bought their tickets. Get in while you can.

@dnp-described

#dan and phil #phan #daniel howell #amazingphil

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.5 K Warnings: None Prompt: What will happen as you walk inside the snake pit? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 43: Sympathy for the Devil

You appeared in a large hall. Their invitation turned into a paper heron, flew out of your hands and up in the air before blowing up into small little gold specks, a rather elaborate spell for an invitation, which easily showed the amount of time and money the Rosiers had put into their party. Evan’s father, Arkalis Rosier, was a relevant political figure in the British Ministry, so it made sense.

He was basically the main aid of Harold Mitchum (the current minister) and was actively looking to secure the position in the next election. He was also an ambassador for the Ministry and had met your father during some of his trips, although he had already heard from him since he was close to Orion and your father and Orion went way back.

Either way, if this party was part of his quest to secure his position in the 1980s election, he was definitely doing a fine job at pampering his guests with bright and colourful tricks, among luxuries. You couldn’t say much about the food, but the small snack table displayed near the far corner of the room looked mouthwatering.

“Silas! You made it,” said a man as he approached your father. You swallowed, he looked exactly like Evan, except older, and with a thick scar across his left eye, which looked glassy instead of dark green as the other one.

“Of course. Arkalis, we wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” your mother responded with a bright smile and extended her hand towards him. She did always tend to shine in social situations; shiny grin, elegant manners, and incredibly persuasive stance, she managed to make every single person feel at ease when she was around. You sometimes wondered if it was because of the fairy bIood, running much thicker through their veins or because she had learned, and adapted to your father’s needs.

The fairy bIood made sense, after all, the fae were known for their lavish parties and alluring abilities to humans and wizards alike.

Your father extended his hand and shook the man’s hand, who promptly turned to you. “This must be your daughter.”

You extended your hand politely, channeling a similar energy to your mother’s, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rosier, I am–”

“Oh, I’ve heard plenty of you,” he said with a smile. You swallowed. “Horace told me about the time he teamed you up with Evan on potions, he mentioned you had done a delightful job.”

“Right,” you added as you relaxed.

“Darling, you didn’t tell us you were friends with Evan,” your mom intervened, looking at you softly.

“I didn’t?” you asked nonchalantly. “Must have forgotten,” you shrugged it off. “You know how busy it’s been since I got to the new school, with all the classes and adapting and meeting new people, new teachers and so forth.”

“Of course, of course,” intervened Arkalis. “The young girl is right, you cannot expect her to tell you every single thing.”

Well, at least he’s nicer than his child, you thought as you looked at Arkalis and nodded in agreement. Your father, who clearly thought you befriending Evan would be an excellent political advantage was looking at you with a rather stern face. Holding back from speaking but not quite hiding his feelings completely. You pouted in return and continued nodding along with Arkalis.

Eventually, Arkalis had to go and your father grabbed your arm, gently pulling you to him and whispering through gritted teeth, “You didn’t think it would be clever to tell us you are friends with his son?”

“I am so far from being friends with Evan Rosier I might as well be on a different planet entirely,” you responded as you tried to shake his hand off. Even though he had grabbed onto you gently, the fact that he had done it was upsetting, especially with how much it reminded you of being manhandled by Barty and his gang.

Your father huffed and let your arm go, you pulled it back and gave him a rather defiant look, “What? Don’t tell me I now must also make friends that are politically convenient to your career?”

“It wouldn’t hurt if you did.”

You looked at the ground bitterly, remembering the bruises on your neck and the scraping on your knee and the splinching you had gotten on that November moon, then turning back to him with a calm expression, “Wouldn’t it?”

“Darling,” your mom intervened, pulling your father from you by hooking her arm with his, “It’s the Sallows, let’s greet them,” she added, your father’s gaze softened for a second, as if he could see through your brave façade, but he turned back to your mother shortly after, and walked along with her to greet the other family.

Right, go, who gives a fuck anyway, you thought bitterly as you took off in another direction, straight to that food table that had caught your eye a few minutes ago. You picked one of the small bruschettas and took a small bite of it as you looked through the window. Smoked Salmon, you realised as you savoured it. Outside, the sun was starting to set, the gardens were vast and covered by a thick layer of snow, and there was some kind of hedge maze that appeared to be surrounding the property. Perhaps with several spells to keep the muggles away from their house. It was actually rather clever.

There were a few crows perched on the hedges, black and contrasting with the layer of snow as they picked out something from their branches. While they gave the outside a rather ominous look, it also kind of made sense, considering the heritage of the Rosiers. Some people thought they were related to the eldest Peverell brother, in fact, you had heard rumours of Arkalis looking for the Deathly Hallows, even if most people considered them nothing more than fantasies.

“What are you doing here?” a scolding voice asked.

You turned around hastily to find Regulus leaning against the table with a sneaky smirk in his mouth. You sighed, “Godric, Reggie!”

His smile widened and he shrugged, “Fancy seeing you, I spotted your parents earlier, imagined you’d be here too.”

“Well you’re as clever as sneaky, congratulations!” you said before taking another bite of your bruschetta, it was delicious.

“You shouldn’t be here though,” he added in a more serious tone, “I overheard my parents talking about–”

And then it happened, the two large doors at the entrance of the hall snapped open and a man walked inside, making the most dramatic entrance you had ever seen in your life –and you were dating Sirius Black. He looked about as old as Arkalis, except this man was much better looking, not to say Arkalis was ugly –then again, you might have been biased because you despised his son.

Regardless, something about the man was oddly familiar, he had dark hair arranged in a perfectly put-together hairstyle that swooped in a rather elegant way. He was wearing dark wizard robes, although vintage looking, clearly expensive since the material flowed with a cadence that only the finest fabrics could match. He had a charming smile plastered across his delicate features as he approached Arkalis, easily greeting him like an old friend.

You watched with curiosity, the room seemed awfully silent since he walked in, there weren’t even whispers, Regulus had gone quiet too, as if they knew the man, as if they feared him. You looked at him again, at the elegant curve of his handsome nose and that’s when you knew who he was. You pictured him with a robe, darker lighting, in a blurry photo somewhere in the Daily Prophet that insisted on avoiding the subject.

“It’s Voldemort,” you whispered as you swallowed thickly, in absolute disbelief of what was going on around you.

You’d expect someone to scream, someone to pull out their wand or at least someone to apparate the hell away, but everyone seemed perfectly fine with the fact that the self-proclaimed dark lord had just busted the party like some sort of Maleficent from the sleeping beauty.

“Reggie, do you know who that–”

He shook his head in response, not because he was responding to your question, but rather in a warning manner, clearly telling you to remain as silent as the rest of the people in the room. You gave him a look combined with a sigh and you saw his jaw tighten as he nodded his head. Another warning. Whatever was about to happen, couldn’t be good. You were in the middle of what could possibly a tеrrorist attack–

Except you weren’t.

“Tom, a pleasure to have you here already,” Arkalis said, approaching the taller man with a bright smile, as bright as the one he had greeted your dad with. No, brighter actually.

It took 10 seconds of the following exchange for you to realise that you weren’t in the middle of a tеrrorist attack but rather that you were at their dinner party.

Does my father even know? You wondered, and then you spotted him amiably talking to Orion, who seemed as relaxed as possible with the entrance of the Dark Lord into Arkalis’ party. Of course he did, you thought as you tried to hold back a scoff.

You looked around carefully, not a single wizard seemed perturbed by the situation, not a single one had raised their wands against the man. Even Reggie looked relatively at ease as he witnessed the entire exchange, as if he had seen something similar happen before, that’s when the eerie thought crept up: He has seen this before. And of course, he had, he was the perfect child, polar opposite of Sirius. When you met him he was always scared of doing something that could enrage his parents, terrified of their reaction to him even thinking the wrong thing.

While Sirius had rebelled against his parents, Regulus had set out to be the ideal child, following their orders to protect himself from the wrath his brother often faced. His survival mechanism was to be the perfect Black child, and if his parents were Dark Wizards then he would have to become one too, at least until he was old enough to flee.

You looked at him with a pained expression, feeling the same way you had when you figured that he hadn’t been the one to tell on you, but rather been forced to do it, life had been unfair to him then, and was being unfair to him now. And you had no idea if you could even find a way to help him. It was in moments like that, when you realised how much he was like Sirius, both trapped, just in different ways.

But then again, were you any different? Weren’t you also at the party talking to dark wizards like they were any other influential person in society? Weren’t you standing there, like every single other person, looking at the interaction without raising your wand?

Of course, you didn’t stand a chance in a duel against the Dark Lord, but wouldn’t the right thing be to try? Wasn’t that what you had been training to do? No, that’s not it either. You remembered a conversation you’d had with Nightshade before you started training, she had said you were talented, but that wasn’t the end of it, your father’s contacts were a key factor here. If you managed to gather enough information tonight, perhaps then you could use that information against them in the future.

In the end, you’d do what your father has asked you to do from the very start, play the role of the perfect little politician’s daughter, smile and nod and charm people in the same way your mother did often, all in the simple effort to get something useful out of their head’s tonight. You took a deep breath, all that occlumency you had been practising would be more necessary than it had ever been.

“Excellent, why don’t we eat now?” Tom asked with a charming smile, “I believe you have a surprise prepared for later tonight.”

Evil doesn´t always look the part, you thought as you stared at him, he had a charisma similar to that of your mother, if a little sinister. He walked alongside Arkalis, who was quickly joined by his wife Astoria Rosier, an elegant, fair-haired woman that looked far younger than she could possibly be. Orion and your father followed next, along with a few other people whom you hadn’t identified yet.

“Not everyone will dine with them I assume?” you said turning to Regulus.

He shook his head in response, “Only some of us will.”

“Of course,” you said with a nod, you too were expected to sit on the same table as them.

You walked alongside Regulus and a few more people towards one of the doors, you saw Evan joining their parents. Barty was at the party too, you had spotted him in the distance earlier, but it seemed he wasn’t going to be part of the few selected, since he had stayed where he was, talking to a girl whom you didn’t recognize from school, but that oddly reminded you of your boyfriend.

When you reached the table inside the private dining room, you realised the seats had been tagged for everyone. Tom, as Arkalis kept calling the most evil wizard alive, had taken the head of the table while the host, and unsurprisingly, Orion, had taken the two seats next to him. Your father was right next to Orion and there was a rather young man with pale blond hair, as long as Lily’s but completely straight. He couldn’t have been much older than you, he looked in his early twenties at most, a child.

Your mother was close to your father, Astoria and Walburga right next to her. From there, there was a stern-looking man who you didn’t recognize and a curly-haired woman who looked about as unhinged as Barty. It was your position on the table that you found dire, you were sitting across from your mother and in between the long-haired blond, who looked displeased by having you sitting there instead of someone else and none other than Evan Rosier. When you saw his name next to yours on the small floating name tags, you had to bite your tongue to avoid the displeased sigh that was just about to escape your mouth.

When you sat down, the small paper with your name displayed on it disappeared, and on your plate appeared a fresh-looking salad. Evan sat down beside you a couple of minutes afterwards.

“Evan,” you greeted with a tight smile and a simple nod. Yes, you had to play a part, that didn’t mean you’d have to be best friends with Evan Rosier for the night. Why was Regulus so damn far away? You swore he was about the one other person in this entire party with whom you’d actually want to be sitting and there were about seven other people in between the two of you. You took a deep breath and turned to your salad as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire dining room, perking your ears when you heard Orion speak again.

They mentioned something regarding the salad being fresh, which you thought was the most philistine compliment someone could ever give, and then they started going on about the weather. Apparently, it had been an abnormally cold winter in England this year. And while White Christmas’ weren’t uncommon, they were a lot more rare than they had been in the past few years.

You heard your mother say something about global warming to Walburga, who seemed puzzled as if she had never heard the term in her life, which in hindsight she might not have since she lived in her own little pure-bIood wizard bubble and tended to stay the hell away from muggle news. Your parents always knew what was happening with the muggles, they thought it was important to stay informed to be able to maintain the relationships between the muggle world and the wizarding world as forthcoming as possible.

You stabbed a small piece of tomato and brought it to your mouth as you thought of how stupidly prosaic the small talk of dark wizards was. Were they holding back because it was a Christmas dinner? Were they all going to pretend Voldemort wasn’t sitting at the head of the table, eating the same boring salad as the rest of you?

How did they even manage to accomplish all their evil deeds if they were just talking about the scores of the latest quidditch championships? Okay, that was Evan talking with whoever was sitting beside him, but still. These people were supposed to be the most dangerous wizards on the planet and yet they were–

“So tell me, how is the little errand I asked for going?” Asked Tom.

There it is, you thought as you sat a little straighter and paid closer attention to their conversation. By now the salad had disappeared and there was a broccoli soup sitting across from you, the taste was actually pretty good, quite cheesy. Apparently, cheese was the right choice no matter how morally diverse the audience you were hosting was. Although, you weren’t sure their audience really was all that morally diverse, except for you and perhaps Regulus.

“Excellent,” Arkalis responded as he turned to Tom, he looked awfully pleased with himself. “They’re downstairs, waiting for the show.”

Tom took a spoon of his soup and then smiled. You saw a snake slowly creeping up his chair, and he seemed awfully comfortable around her when he noticed. The snake hissed and he said something back to her. He speaks parseltongue.

Now, that might not be new information for Dumbledore, but it was to you. The Daily Prophet didn’t talk about all the skills the Dark Lord had honed through the years. It’s ridiculous, you thought. What if someone tried to use serpensortia against him and got killed by their own spell? Of course, someone who thought that spell was enough to go against Voldemort was going to get killed later on anyway. Regardless, it should already be common knowledge what he was good and bad at.

“Good, I suppose we’ll be enjoying the spectacle when the dinner’s done?”

“Indeed,” Orion said this time around. “Things must be prepared for the ceremony.”

Ceremony? What fucking ceremony? You thought as you took another spoon of your soup. You tried to keep your eyes on it, as if not to seem like you were prying.

“Is the soup really that interesting to you?”

Godricbedamned, not now fuckface, you thought as you turned around to Evan, “It’s really good, actually. More interesting than you and your friend gushing about your quidditch crushes for sure.”

The blond man next to you, whom you had now learned was Lucius, snorted when he heard your reply while Evan clenched his jaw and looked at his parents nervously, as if trying to make sure he hadn’t caught your exchange. You followed his gaze and then turned back to look at him with a slight smirk. So that was a low blow then? You thought as you recalled, he had only talked about male players with his other friend.

Oh, it’s because Daddy doesn’t know. Better leave the subject behind. You weren’t planning to out him, no matter how much of an asshole he continued to be, even if last time he had actually gotten Severus off your back. Speaking of him, it was a delight not to have to see his long face around, looks like his family didn’t make the cut to be invited to the pit of snakes you were currently in.

“At least I have someone that’s interested in talking to me.”

“If I was interested in talking, I’d have already struck a conversation Evan, not all of us are eager to say every single thing that comes to mind.”

“You wish.”

You hmphed at that and turned your head to the other side, “Lucius, would you mind passing me the salt?” you asked politely. He turned to you a little confused at first, as if he was surprised you had talked to him and then nodded, handing over the salt to you an instant later. “Thank you. Your shoes are very elegant, by the way.”

Lucius seemed both surprised and pleased that you had noticed his shoes. They were impeccable like he had either bought them for this event or had them cleaned and polished. He had walked with slow decision as he approached the table earlier, and when you spotted his shoes, you realised why he was being as careful with them as he had been with his hair throughout the night. This man cared about looking good.

“Oh, thank you,” he said with a smile. “I got them custom-made by a very elegant designer, you might have heard of him, Alistar Shoman.”

Gotcha!

“You’re telling me that’s a pair of Shomans? That’s incredible.”

Lucius seemed pretty pleased with the conversation, you threw a side glance at Evan who just scoffed and turned to speak to his friend again, all the while you looked at Lucius and pretended the history of the Shoman company was the most interesting thing in the world. Perhaps it was just slightly more interesting than the broccoli soup.

Then you heard your name drop from Orion’s mouth and you turned to him with the most polite expression you could muster.

Fuck. You had been paying so much attention to Lucius’ stupid talk to prove Evan wrong that you had missed the one bit of relevant information they had been talking about, and now they were calling you for some reason. What a miserable spy you would make.

“Yes, Mr. Black?” You asked.

“We were just talking about the fact that we’ve been so busy that we haven’t been able to go watch the Quidditch Matches recently, but we’ve been told they have been outstandingly interesting.”

You felt the tension in his voice, they probably knew you had sought against Regulus in the Slytherin vs Gryffindor Match.

“They have been,” you said with a nod. “Quidditch is certainly something intense at Hogwarts, all of the teams are incredibly capable. It certainly has been a challenge to be able to keep up with my position.”

Orion laughed at that, “Such modesty.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond to that but with a small smile. “Slughorn told me you were one of the most promising players,” added Arkalis. “Some teams are already considering you…”

That actually caught you by surprise, you loved quidditch, but you had never actually considered making a career out of it. Lucius turned to you with newfound interest, as if now that he knew what you were capable of you had become actually interesting to him, beyond whatever fashion talk you had held earlier. It was hard to hold the urge to glare at him for it.

“I’m sure all of the players in this table are as good as me, or even better,” you said, thinking of Regulus, and playing your role of clever guest, even if you had given Evan a compliment with it. It wasn’t a lie, Evan was a good chaser, but he was also a total asshole.

“And yet, your team won in the last match,” Arkalis said, making sure to look down on his son as he spoke the last line.

You didn’t turn your gaze to Evan but you could tell he had lowered his gaze from the little you saw in the corner of your eyes. No wonder the boy was like he was, his father was even worse than him. You felt a little pity towards Evan, even if you still disliked him thoroughly.

You decided driving the conversation to a different subject would be the best thing to do before things got even more tense. “How did you meet Professor Slughorn?” you asked, managing to have a genuinely curious look on your face as you did.

“We studied with him,” replied Tom, turning to look at you with a chill-inducing smirk, both charming and dangerous at the same time. He definitely had that cult-leader vibe going for him, no wonder so many people were so eager to follow him, it wasn’t just because he was powerful or because of their shared hate towards muggles, most of the men in the room shared those 2 characteristics. The one thing that made the difference was how much more charming this man was in comparison. “We were both in the Slug Club too, weren’t we, Arkalis?”

Arkalis hummed in response, “Indeed, he used to say Tom was the most brilliant student he ever taught.”

“He likes playing favourites,” you added with a smile.

“He does indeed,” agreed Arkalis, and eyed his son again, his gaze reproachful and thunderous. “He told me you and Evan made an excellent team.”

You remembered that day and tried not to shudder at the thought of Evan’s hand squeezing your injury, “Right we did,” you said as you placed your hand on his shoulder, making sure to dig your nails enough to make him uncomfortable. “He’s delightful to work with,” somehow you managed to make that sound honest rather than sarcastic. “He’s especially good at measuring and mixing.”

Arkalis seemed pleased with your praising of his son, and you thought they might start talking more the more pleased he was, especially since his wine wasn’t refilling fast enough. In fact, every single person in the room seemed to be drinking moderately, as if they were trying to keep their heads clear for whatever surprise they were talking about earlier.

“We’ve been friends ever since, haven’t we Ev?” you added with a charming smile.

“Right,” Evan added, “Best friends.”

Arkalis seemed pleased with the response, your father still looked irritated over the fact that you hadn’t told him about your friendship with Evan, even more so since he thought you lied to him earlier when you said you and Evan were light years away from becoming friends. The rest of the table seemed to buy your lie, except for Regulus who was looking at you with a rather anxious look on his face. While he didn’t know everything Evan had done to you, he had a pretty good idea of some of the things based on things he had heard at the Slytherin table.

You smiled shortly and then someone who you didn’t recognize said something to Arkalis and drew the conversation away from the two of you. Evan leaned over, “What the hell are you playing at?” he asked.

“I’m playing my role as a nice guest, how about you play the one of a nice host and we pretend we don’t hate each other’s guts for the night?” you retorted. “Your father seemed pleased enough about our friendship or whatever.”

“You shouldn’t have come tonight.”

“As if I wanted to,” you scoffed and turned back to listening to the adult’s conversation, they were now going on about the Ministry of Magic. They mentioned something about how he was now doing exactly what he was meant to do and you felt chills run down your spine when you spotted Voldemort’s smile.

The Ministry is on his hands, no wonder there is no news about him on the daily prophet. Just how many deatheaters are out there? All infiltrated on normal day jobs and working towards making the world a much darker place… the idea was horrifying, and yet everyone at the table seemed incredibly pleased with it.

Eventually, you finished dinner, Tom was the first one to stand and he said something about it being time for a show. At this point, you dreaded finding out whatever the hell was his idea of entertainment, from what you’d heard, it couldn’t have been good.

You were on your way towards the exit, trying to find Regulus again when Arkalis walked beside you and offered you his arm, “Darling, would you mind talking to me for a second?” he asked, using a charm similar, but not nearly as masterful as the one Voldemort had.

You looked around trying to find Regulus, of course, Arkalis had asked, but the way he had said it was enough for you to know that it wasn’t actually an option to say ‘no’. Reggie was a few feet from you and he sent you another anxious glance before Orion intercepted him.

“Sure, of course,” you replied as you felt Arkalis’ hand over your shoulder, urging you for an answer, you hooked your hand in his and followed him to a different room, completely missing the absolutely terrified look on Evan’s face.

“How may I be of help to you, Mr. Rosier?” You asked calmly, whatever reason Arkalis had to bring you to the library, it was not intending to hurt you, at least you hoped it wasn’t. And the chances were low since it would be a very stupid decision to make considering who your father was, and how close he seemed to be to Orion, who, you had concluded, was closer to Voldemort than Arkalis, even if they had studied together.

Whether you liked it or not, your parents’ connection to Orion Black, was the reason you were safe in this party.

“You’re friends with Evan, correct?”

You heard a shuffling at the end of the room, turning to look but finding nothing, you narrowed your eyes in that direction only for a second before turning back to Arkalis, he didn’t look like an overly patient man, “Indeed.”

“Excellent,” he said with a nod and then smiled, a smile so warm and kind that you might have bought his good intentions if you hadn’t been deterred by the thing that left his mouth afterwards, “You would tell me if he was doing something he shouldn’t be doing, right?”

Like threatening to throw me off the astronomy tower, choke me and throw me off my broom along with his boyfriend? Sure, you thought.

“Something he shouldn’t be doing?” You played dumb, that seemed to always do the trick for people like Arkalis.

“I’ve heard some rumours about my son.”

Rumours? You wondered. Whatever the hell is he–

“People have been saying he’s really close to a boy in school.”

“Evan has many friends,” you responded, just now guessing what Arkalis could mean.

“Closer than that,” he told you. “It’s a… deviation that happens to muggle men often?”

Fucking hell, you thought when you realised what he meant. Arkalis wants to know if Evan is gay, but the way he approached the subject, using the words “deviation” and “muggle” with such derision. You tilted your head slightly, trying not to look offended by his homophobia.

“I’m not sure I understand, Sir, Evan has many friends.”

“I mean, does he have a boyfriend?” Arkalis asked.

There it is. You played surprised at that. You heard another movement on the side, “Oh, Merlin no!” you said surprised. “I would definitely know if Evan had a boyfriend,” you said, trying to sound as confident as possible. It wasn’t completely a lie, you did know.

Then you felt Arkalis trying to prickle at your mind, looking for something, inside of it, the truth, you realised. And then you gave him what he wanted to see. You used every single ounce of mental power to conjure up one image and one image only. Evan pushing you against the railing of the Astronomy tower, hand in your throat and leaning onto you, the same way it had happened then except, there was no one else, and rather than lean over to threaten you, Evan was leaning over to kiss you.

You tried to hold your thoughts of disgust at the image being projected on your mind as much as possible, but you knew that, at least that scene, would get Arkalis off of Evan’s back for a while.

No, you didn’t like Evan, you’d go as far as to say that you hated his guts, but no matter how much hate you harboured for the blond, you would never out him, let alone to a clearly abusive and homophobic father like Arkalis. Take it as the good deed of the day, you thought as you used memories of kisses with Sirius to make the scene more realistic.

Eventually, Arkalis stopped digging inside your mind and you felt relief wash over you, allowing the horrifying image of kissing Evan Rosier to dissolve. Arkalis pulled back with a pleased smile. “What a deceptive little thing,” he said as he looked at you with a smirk and grabbed onto your jaw to pull your head up slightly. You gave him an innocent look in return, as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

Does he know I’m trying to trick him? Did he notice?, you wondered as you moved your hand towards your dress pocket to try and find your wand.

“Pardon?” You asked meekly.

“We all thought you were dating Orion’s eldest son,” he said Sirius’ name with scorn, and you had the urge to spit on his face, you somehow managed to hold back.

“I am dating Sirius,” you replied with an innocent frown, voice still soft, still playing a part, Arkalis had to think you had no idea he had dug inside your mind.

His smile just widened, “Of course, my bad,” he said with a smile and pulled his hand away from your face. “If you see Evan tell him I’m proud of him. He’s got a good eye for women.”

You swallowed thickly but managed to give him a confused nod in response. It was meant to be a compliment, and yet it made you want to puke, you definitely did not like Arkalis better than you did Evan. You didn’t even like him better than you liked Barty.

“Uhm… of course, Sir,” you replied, still playing dumb, his smile grew wider and he bowed his head before exiting the room.

When he was gone you allowed yourself to sigh, shutting your eyes as you thought over everything that had happened. And then you felt a hand in your arm, gripping tightly, just like he had back in potions class.

“What the hell was that about?” Evan asked from behind, he looked absolutely baffled.

“Oh, Evan, you were the one eavesdropping then,” you replied with a sigh and shoved your arm to try and pry his hands off of it. So fucking handsy, you thought as you remembered his father’s stupid hands on your jaw. “Do you mind?”

Evan seemed just as puzzled and slightly angry now too, and while he didn’t let go of you entirely, he did loosen his grip, which you were thankful for. “Why did you–? What the hell did you tell my father?”

“You know, the right way to express what you’re feeling right now is to say thank you,” you replied annoyed, you hadn’t saved his ass for him to be a total asshole about it.

He finally let your arm go completely and passed a hand through his hair, “What I mean to say is, you know about me and Barty, you could have told him, gotten rid of the two of us in an instant, my father would have probably sent me abroad to some other school if he found out and yet you… made him assume I like a woman?”

You sighed, “Look, Evan. I don’t like you, okay? You’ve been an asshole to me from the fucking start and frankly, I wish I could beat the fuck out of you sometimes, but there are lines that I’m not willing to cross. No matter how much of an asshole you are, I would never out someone just because I dislike them, let alone to someone like your father.” And then you scoffed, “Muggle-deviation, fucking hell, just say gay.”

Evan was speechless after that, he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what he should say or if he even should. Perhaps he really should thank you for covering for him, but even that would feel empty. What you had done might have been one of the nicest things anyone had done for him in his entire life, but how could an enemy be the one to do that?

“I– I mean I–”

You sighed again, “Just… leave it,” you said and left the room, and an incredibly confused Evan inside of it.

Evan disliked you, he disliked you for throwing a Quaffle on Barty’s face and breaking his beautiful nose, he hated you for being a know-it-all, he hated you for being good at quidditch and he hated you for being such a self-righteous prick who considered herself better than him. He hated you for constantly teasing Barty and Mulciber and Snape, he hated you for how reckless you were and for picking up fights with people who were bigger and stronger without backing down from them. And his whole idea of you was crumbling down because he wasn’t sure he would have done the same thing in your position. If he knew how to destroy you, would he have hesitated?

Would he have saved you too?

Evan sank to the floor and started to cry, he wasn’t sure if the thick salty drops falling from his eyes were from angry or relieved tears. He didn’t know why he was crying, he just knew he couldn’t stop. The complexity of his emotions churned within him. You had the power to vanish him, you could have told his dad and the one bit of happiness he’d found would have been gone in an instant. He wouldn’t have seen Barty ever again.

Did you even know how much you had done for him in that 5-minute talk you’d had with Arkalis?

Years of hiding, years of being careful, years of feeling like he was wrong, and that what he liked was poisonous, deserving of mistreatment and scorn, years of dreading his father finding something, anything that could out him. All gone in a small little chat, where you barely even fucking spoke. The smile Arkalis had made, the relief in his eyes –the acceptance– that made Evan want to cry even more. Because no matter how great he was, no matter how perfect he was, he would never, ever be truly accepted by his father. Never would he make him as happy as you had by implying to him he liked a girl.

He was miserable, and out of all people, you had been the one to make his sorrow, even if it was just slightly, less painful, less burdensome and less suffocating.

Yet, despite the relief, Evan couldn't shake the lingering bitterness that consumed him. He resented you for knowing his weak spot, and yet, beneath the layer of resentment and anger, there was a tiny ember of gratitude, a flicker of acknowledgement for the unexpected reprieve you had granted him. As he sat there, tears staining his cheeks, he wasn’t sure he could continue hating you anymore.

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A/N: This might be one of my favourite chapters to write. I really like those emotionally charged scenes, but you've probably already noticed. Also, even antagonistic characters have feelings and boy, do some of them run deep... Poor Evan (I told you guys I did like the Slytherin boys, but the rivalry still exists. Even if, to their different points of view, the villain might just be, well: us. Love, Lils xx

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goayda · 3 months ago

Text

So what if… everything was the same in OFMD s2 until Stede’s fight against Zheng, but there was no attack from the British then because Prince Ricky had simply gone home to lick his wounds and was never heard of again.

So Izzy takes Stede back to the Revenge after the humiliating defeat at Zheng’s hands and the captain is embarrassed and upset and very, very drunk so after Izzy patches his light injuries he tries to convince Stede to go to sleep, but once lying in bed he pouts and begs Izzy to read him a bedtime story.

“I read to the crew all the time, why can’t you do it for me now?”

“It’s late, Bonnet. I won’t go now looking for one of your books to read it by candlelight…”

“Then why don’t you just tell me one that you remember, surely you know some fairytales, don’t you? Do you know any about mermaids?”

Izzy tries to resist, but drunk Bonnet’s puppy eyes are even more effective than normal and Izzy eventually agrees to tell him one story, a story about a mermaid his mother used to read to him when he was little.

So he sits on the bed beside Stede and starts the story about a mermaid who falls in love with a human prince and how she makes a deal with a sea witch to get legs so she can go and find her prince. She gives her voice in exchange for the legs and suffers quite a lot, but she finds him eventually and… things don’t go as well as she expected because although the prince is nice to her and treats her very kindly, he falls in love with a princess from a nearby country.

By the time Izzy is about to end the story as the prince marries the other woman and the mermaid is about to die because that was also part of the deal with the sea witch, Stede is sobbing and begging Izzy to stop.

“That cannot be, Izzy! You must be remembering it wrong!” Stede cries inconsolably.

“No, it’s- the story ends like that, Stede. I’m sorry.”

It’s true the story doesn’t have a happy ending, but Izzy didn’t realize Stede would get so upset about it and it's simply the only fairytale about mermaids he remembers.

“But-but she gave up everything to follow the man she loved and-and that cannot be her ending!”

“Well, sometimes life’s just like that.”

Stede cries even harder at that and Izzy tries to calm him, petting him awkwardly on the arm, but Stede turns and then he is on Izzy’s lap, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. Izzy sighs and allows it, because what else is he supposed to do.

“Well, maybe I remember it wrong,” Izzy lies then, rubbing Stede’s back softly. “Maybe that’s not how it ends. I heard the story a long time ago after all.”

“Maybe there was a loophole in the witch’s spell and she managed to get rid of it,” Izzy adds, trying to come up with a way to fix the story, but he knows he isn’t very good at this, he has never had much imagination or so he has been told.

“She needed a kiss from the prince,” Stede adds after a moment, still sniffling. “But maybe it could be just any prince?”

“It could be, the wording of the spells is important,” Izzy agrees.

“So maybe, maybe the mermaid met some other prince in those fancy balls she attended when she was human,” Stede keeps going, as he calms down slowly. “Maybe that other prince met her there and noticed what a wonderful creature she was and fell in love with her.”

“It makes sense that there would be other princes and princesses in those balls, I guess. They don’t like to mingle with peasants exactly,”

“So at the wedding, this other prince decides to court the mermaid and she likes him and she realizes that it’s not the end of the world,” Stede continues.

“Hmm-mm, and they kiss before dawn, of course.”

“Yes! And so the mermaid is saved as she falls in love with this other prince which is more handsome and much kinder than the other one,” Stede finishes the story with a smile.

They stay quiet for some time and just when Izzy is thinking maybe Bonnet has fallen asleep, the man speaks again.

“Do you know any other story, Izzy? One with a happy ending?”

Stede is snuggling comfortably in his lap and doesn’t look like he is going to move anytime soon so Izzy just shrugs and gets comfortable himself, lying down a bit.

“I don’t know many, really. Fairy tales are more like your thing, Bonnet. Why don’t you tell me one? It’s your turn now, anyway.”

It has been a long day and Izzy is very tired so when Stede starts talking softly about a poor young girl who is cruelly mistreated by her stepmother and stepsisters, he allows himself to close his eyes and he eventually falls asleep.

#izzy hands #stede bonnet #stizzy #well more like pre-stizzy #gentlehands #ofmd #our flag means death #sharing my heartbreaking fairy tales obsession #I still remember how upset I was the first time I read the little mermaid #I cried like a child #because well I was actually a child #stede would know the story for sure #but just ignore that and lets say he didn't #so this is the first time he hears it

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johndpg · 2 years ago

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CATWEAZLE (1970)

Catweazle was a popular British children’s TV series of the early 1970s. He’s an 11th century bumbling wizard who, when pursued by soldiers through a wood, says a spell as he jumps into a pond. When he emerges, he believes he’s made the soldiers and the wood disappear; in fact he has jumped 900 years into the future. He arrives on a farm in rural England in the year 1969 and befriends a farmer's son, a ginger teenager named Edward Bennet, nicknamed Carrot, who spends most of the rest of the series attempting to hide the wizard from his father and the farmhand Sam. Catweazle searches for a way to return to his own time while hiding in a disused water tower. Whenever he is spotted, he uses his magic amulet to hypnotise people into forgetting that they saw him. He also has a toad called Touchwood (who’s featured in the screenshots above).

There was a second series shown in 1971 in which Catweazle has moved to a stately home, where he befriends the son of the unhinged gentry family living there. Frankly, series one is much better and more fondly remembered (especially by me—I loved this show as a boy!). A third series was planned but never came to fruition.

These screenshots are taken from Series 1, Episode 12—The Wisdom of Solomon. A housekeeper called Mrs Skinner has moved into the farm along with her obnoxious son Arthur. He and Carrot do not get along. This is the only episode to feature school uniforms, so it’s good to see one of the characters is wearing grey short trousers. Carrot is supposed to be around 14, so I think Arthur is meant to be younger, say 12/13. It’s a contemporary production, so the uniforms (complete with school caps!) are authentic for the period, and boys didn’t generally continue wearing shorts to school much past 12 (in state schools anyway—although I stand to be corrected). Did you spot that Arthur’s shorts are fully lined?

In reality, Robin Davies who played Carrot was 15 at the time of filming. Feddy Foote, meanwhile, who played Arthur, was actually older than him at 16 years old. Both boys would still have been at school when the episode was shot, so I wonder how young Freddy reacted when he first saw his costume—or what the other boys at his school thought when it was transmitted?

Catweazle was played by Geoffrey Bayldon, who enjoyed a substantial TV, film and stage career. The series featured a host of famous faces, such as Patricia Hayes, Peter Sallis, John Junkin, Peter Butterworth, Hattie Jacques, Neil McCarthy, Moray Watson, Bernard Hepton… It’s a veritable who’s who of popular British actors and comedy talent of the time. You can find most of the episodes on YouTube but I’ve included a link to the one with the two boys in their uniforms below.

Master Davies will be returning to this blog wearing a different school uniform (still with a cap though!) and with a short-trousered younger brother in tow in And Mother Makes Three. As a final note, he died his hair for Catweazle, so that his character could better live up to his nickname.

youtube

#Youtube

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measuringbliss · 9 months ago

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So one thing I suddenly started thinking about with my insomnia-ridden single braincell was translation in Harry Potter. Not translation of the books (although it IS fascinating), but translation of books, in-universe. And speech-translation, and presumably translation of everything.

Is translation a job in HP's magical world?

You could argue that there's probably a spell, a potion or any type of thing that supposedly provides translations. A very quick search throughout the wikia doesn't provide me with an example, but let's suppose so.

I see two main ways of doing translation, which I will compare with IRL processes:

The Human Way

The Artificial Intelligence (AI) Way

The first method implies some degree of conscience, where the translator understands the languages comprised in the interaction and the cultures they're associated with. The human can interpret, have opinions, deliberate, be influenced, and overall use their judgment. In the magical world, the direct equivalent would be identical: a human translator.

Now, the second method is different. It bases itself a canon of sorts (usually constituted of legal texts), where human translations have been executed, and the process checks what comes back again and again. It remembers that, for example, "Monsieur" is often (but not always! We immediately get a nuance) translated as "Sir" from French. If the machine sees that word, it will translate it that way. It won't take the cultural context into account (Does it take place in France? Is the character French? What's the social status of everyone involved? In which era?), it will just see the word, the sentence as a whole if it's not too terrible, and will repeat what it saw dozens and dozens of time.

An immediate issue with this method is that a lot of languages rarely interact with each other. English and French are common pairs, but Turkish and Afrikaans? Not so much. If the machine doesn't have enough data, it has to rely on intermediary translation, for example by first translating the text from Language A to Language B, then from Language B to Language C, which can be highly inaccurate.

In the magical world, a similar thing would simply be magic.

Magic is an interesting concept if you get in the nitty-gritty. We know that human translators, thanks to their humanness, their conscience, are better translators than AI (and that will never change).

So the question is: how would magic work?

Does it have a conscience? It doesn't seem so. It does help kids by revealing itself, but it seems to stop there. It's not all-powerful; any reader of Harry Potter knows that food can't be conjured from nothing. What stops magic from doing so: technical limitations (laws of nature?) or a simple, thought-out refusal?

There's no evidence to support the second theory, so we must assume that magic not only doesn't have conscience, but also has limits.

Now, we already determined that to translate accurately, you need a conscience. If magic doesn't seem to interpret anything (it seems to simply receive instructions and execute the command; think of how the wand movements and pronunciations need to be precise! How does that go for non-British wizards? Does everybody in the world need to have a British accent to say Latin formulas?), it's very comparable to an AI--at least, it doesn't try to pass off as human. At least, not without human intervention, whereas AI, once created, does have some autonomy.

Ergo, the magical world absolutely needs human translators and is probably aware of that fact to a better degree than the human world of 2024.

#harry potter #meta #translation #harry potter meta #translation meta #worldbuilding #analysis #theory

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lollipencil · 2 years ago

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In The Pale Moonlight: Part 4

Ok, I can't really think of any great full scenes right now for this one, so we're bouncing around the timeline this time around. @harleyification, let's do some introductions! Enjoy and be gentle

---

(Commissioner Gordon (Marc)) A faint drizzle dotted the figure on the GCPD rooftop. Commissioner Gordon stood next to the lit Bat-Signal, looking up at the shape it cast into the ever-present clouds. Sometimes, he swore he could see that light in his dreams.

The familar sound of an ever so slight rustle was his cue. "Batman, Poison Ivy's been acting up again near Ace Chemicals," Commissoner Gordon began as he turned to face his friend, "She's been-"

The Commissioner stared. Blinked as if to dispel what he saw. Standing next to Batman, carefully watching Robin as he cartwheeled about the rooftop, was a caped mummy only a head taller than Robin himself. "Commissioner?" Batman asked, as if he couldn't tell what the problem was. "Is that another kid?" Gordon hissed, pointing at the trick or treater. "This is Moon Knight," Batman introduced, "He and his brothers will be assisting us from now on." "There's more of them?!"

---

(Damian Wayne (Steven))

Damian was polishing one of his knifes when a knock came on his bedroom door. Silently he slipt the knife up his sleeve, ready to deploy at a moment's notice, and opened the door. One of Father's "children" was standing there, thankfully not Drake. Damian had not interacted much with this one, Spector he'd heard his name was. Although, curiosly, they had personally been introduced as "the Triplets".

"Hello Damian," he greeted, his accent and expression far different than before, "Do you have anything planned for today?" "Why do you ask?" Damian kept his guard up. "There's a travelling exhibit at the Gotham Museum of Antiquities," Spector elaborated, "It's on ancient weapons. I'm going, and thought I'd extend an invitation."

"Tt, Mother taught me of many cultures' weaponry." "Yeah, but have you ever held any of them?" Damian paused. Idly, his eyes drifted to the bracelet Spector was wearing.

Father had indicated to pay attention to it. It was light grey and white at their first meeting. It was blue and black now. "Tell you what," Spector continued, "If you promise not to verbally or physically attack anyone, and to not steal the weapons, I'll take you with me. If you're good, I'll pay for a few things from the gift shop."

There was something going on with Spector, and Father had clearly intended in Damian working it out himself. To prove his skills. Plus, he'd always wanted to hold a khopesh. "I concede to these terms."

---

(Zatanna Zatara (Everyone))

Out of everything Zatanna Zatara was expected at midnight, the Batman knocking on her hotel window was fairly low down on the list. She had been in Gotham a mere three hours. "And how can I help you?" she greeted with a smile anyway. The Bat seemed intimidated by Zatanna's peppiness. "Moon Knight and his brothers have been hit by a spell," he muttered.

The drive to the Batcave was...something. At least, the dim lights were easy to adjust to. "Ok," Zatanna clapped her hands, "So, where are they?" "Right this way," an elderly gentleman in a domino mask held a curtain open for her.

Slipping in, she quickly had to hold back a coo. There, curled around each other and mewling loudly, were three cats. The white one hissed at Zatanna's entrance, while the dark and light brown and white cat next to him chided him, and went back to grooming his brother's. The grey and black striped one simpily stared at her. "Oh, this is an easy fix," Zatanna waved to herself, "emoceb namuh niaga."

Between blinks, it took effect. But not in the way Zatanna expected. "That sucked," moaned the single human sitting before her, "Need anything else?" "I've done it wrong," Zatanna slowly admitted, "Let me just fix it-" "Nope, nothing to fix here," Moon Knight popped up to his feet, british accent replacing american, "Thank you so much, we're off to bed."

Nobody stopped him as he darted straight to the elevator. "Miss Zatara," the gentleman intercepted before she could follow them, "While I understand your concern, I can assure you that their condition is back to their usual." "...oh."

#my fics #crossover fic #moon knight (2022)#batman #james gordon #bruce wayne #dick grayson #marc spector #damian wayne #steven grant #zatanna zatara #alfred pennyworth #jake lockley

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braveclementine · 1 year ago

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Chapter 24

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

𝕴 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖚𝖘 in my arms, standing somewhere near Hagrid as we watched (with many younger students) as a powder-blue carriage the size of a house pulled by a dozen winged palominos soared through the last afternoon sky, settling down near Hagrid's cabin.

I watched as the large door opened and Madam Maxine walked from the house, throwing herself into Hagrid's waiting arms. There was a polite introduction, though of course, she recognized me from sight.

Trang was quite stunned at the sight of her, the carriage, and the horses. "Is that Hagrid's. . . well anything?"

I chuckled quietly, shifting my wait so that I could hold Remus more favorably. "Dating? Something like that."

"Wow." Trang said and we watched the two of them walk off into the woods.

"Hospital wing?" I asked.

"Hospital wing." Trang said.

We walked back up the slope to go and see Bill. Fleur was chattering happily about Bill's newest craving: rare steaks.

"Eet ees lucky 'e is marrying me, because ze British overcook thier meat, I 'ave always said this." Fleur said, fluffing Bill's pillow.

"Hey Eliza, Trang." Bill greeted us. I handed over Remus because I knew that Bill liked holding him.

"Rare steaks are good." Trang said, taking a chair near Hermione.

I scoffed, "How would you know?"

Trang grinned mysteriously and I rolled my eyes.

"I have something for you Harry." I said, reaching into my shoulder bag and pulling out a set of seven drawings and handed them over.

"This is Tom Riddles diary. . ." Harry said slowly and then stopped talking as he shifted through the drawings and then looked up, "Thanks Liz."

I simply nodded. Bill and Fleur were deep in another conversation and I sat closer to the rest of them.

"You wouldn't happen to know who R.A.B. is do you?" Hermione whispered.

I nodded, "Regulus Black."

"Sirius brother?" Harry whispered.

I nodded but said nothing as Bill and Fleur had finished their conversation and I said, "You were going to find out after their wedding." I said this in barely a whisper, jerking my head to mean Bill and Fleur. "You'll know what I mean when they day comes."

The next day came as a mournful one. Everyone woke up at around the same time which was early, dressing in mourning dress robes, and made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast that most of us would not eat.

I'd packed last night after leaving Bill in the hospital wing. Nearly all my things were in Severus' room so it was simple to pack and grab just a few things from the Hufflepuff common room. Trang picked up my drawings of swords and keys and bees and all the other things and places and people from the art studio, putting them into a folder but left all my other drawings there on the walls and tables and easels. If I came back, I wanted something to come back to.

I stood in front of the Great Hall, holding Remus in my arms, looking at the drawing across the room behind the teacher's chairs, confused.

I had never colored the drawing, but now, Dumbledore's character was in color, flawless color too. So was Quirrell's, which I did not understand. Professor Binns was also somewhat colored although he looked more shimmery than anything. Perhaps because the drawing would've been translucent as he was a ghost, I wasn't sure.

"I did a spell." Hermione's voice said at my shoulder. She came to stand next to me. Students passed us into the Great Hall. "When a teacher dies, their character on the drawing is filled in with color, giving them life in death."

"Thank you." I whispered. "It's wonderful."

"I wished only Dumbledore's was colored but the spell stuck, so unfortunately Quirrell will be standing out today as well." Hermione said.

"And so many more will be colored in in the next year." I whispered sadly. Professor Moody, Professor Burbage. . . Professor Snape. . . Professor Lupin. I smiled grimly and then headed to the Hufflepuff table to stare at food on the table.

Rufus Scrimgeour was sitting where Severus should have been sitting. I noticed that Hagrid was not at the table either. I assumed he couldn't have faced breakfast, not today.

Some of the students were talking amongst each other, making the Great Hall seem as though more people were talking than there really were.

Ernie stared down at the bacon and Hannah was picking at a muffin.

"Eat something." Susan said, pushing food in front of me.

"None of you are eating." I protested.

"I feel nauseous to say the least." Justin said. He did look a little green.

Ernie scowled.

"Something wrong Ernie?" I asked gently, biting off a piece of bacon. I knew Susan was making me eat because of Remus and that was alright.

"Smith." Ernie scowled, apparently to disgusted with Zacharias to say his first name.

"Ah!" Rose piped up from Justin's other side. I hadn't seen her.

I shook my head, "Zacharias. . . has. . . well there's really nothing that can be said to defend his actions. He didn't want to fight and his father took him away. He'll do the same thing the next time a fight comes."

Ernie scowled deeper. "He's a coward."

"I think he uses the word self-preservation." I said lightly. I wasn't really sure why I was defending him but I was. Perhaps I just didn't want someone to not be defended for their actions, no matter how wrong. "How was the battle? I missed some of it."

"It was boring on our end." Justin said, eager apparently to tell his story. "We waited in the entrance hall, you know? Around midnight we heard loud noises and shouts and we got ready but the Death Eaters didn't appear for almost thirty or so minutes after the first shouts. The battle seemed really one sided, they were more trying to get away than fight us."

I ate more food in silence while the others stared morosely at their plates. I wished for more details like what had happened to Katie and Dean and the Patil twins and Hannah and Terry and Anthony, but I asked no more. What I didn't know didn't hurt me.

"When did you color in the drawings?" Hannah asked suddenly.

"I didn't." I said, giving the credit where it was due. "It's a spell of Hermione's. When a Professor in the drawing passes away, life is brought to the drawing."

Ernie chuckled, "Smart girl."

"Only wish I'd thought of it." I said, smiling.

Professor McGonagall rose to her feet and the talk in the Great Hall died away at once. "It is nearly time, please follow your Heads of Houses out into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me."

Professor Sprout rose, wearing clean robes of yellow. There wasn't a speck of dirt, dust, or patches on any of her clothes. I'd never seen her look so clean and it was like looking at a walking, talking character from the opposite Professor portraits I'd drawn what seemed like years ago.

As we passed through the entrance hall, I saw Madam Pince standing besides Mr. Filch. I remembered a conversation that had to of been at the start of the year about a possible love between the two of them. Hermione and Harry had been part of that conversation.

We stepped out through the front door and light hit our faces. Remus held a tiny hand up, trying to grab the sunbeams. I had shaded his head with a small hat and I angled him in my arms so that he couldn't stare directly into the sun.

There were hundreds of chairs, set out in a row by the lake and forest. There was an aisle down the center, like a wedding rather. There was a marble table standing at the front which I knew was probably the coffin because all of the chairs were facing it.

The weather was to beautiful, to wrong.

There were many people already in the front half of the chairs.

Kingsley approached, much to my pleasure, to give me a hug and say hello to Remus, taking him from my hands and holding him above his head.

"Careful." I chastised.

"I won't drop him." Kingsley said, giving me a large smile. "His name?"

"Remus Sirius." I said. I didn't know what Kingsley did or did not know but he clarified for me, giving a low chuckle.

"Snape let that name slide?"

I grinned reluctantly but said nothing as Uncle Moody stomped over to say hello.

I recognized many other people. Tonks hair was back to pink, sitting with dad and holding hands. Fred and George were there too, who also greeted me and took interest in Remus. I noticed there were many shopkeepers from both Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother sat there, anonymous, simply known as the bartender of Hog's Head.

Outside the windows, nearly invisible in the sunlight were the Hogwarts ghosts. I could pick out Nearly Headless Nick, the Fat Friar, Moaning Myrtle, and the Bloody Baron amongst many, many other ghosts. All of them were somber.

Even Peeves had shown up, slightly more visible than the ghosts. For once (and I'm sure it would never happen again) he looked somber. There was no smile on his face and there was nothing in his hands that suggested he would make a prank. He was simply sitting on a windowsill outside the castle, looking down on all of us.

I made my way to stand next to Firenze who was standing by the water's edge.

"Elizabeth Kane." Firenze said softly in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Firenze." I said.

"That is your child?"

"Remus Sirius Snape." I whispered.

"He's handsome." Firenze said. He seemed sad and another emotion I didn't recognize on his face. He seemed. . . almost. . . jealous? But perhaps I was reading his face wrong.

"Thank you."

We watched as Cornelius Fudge walked by. He looked miserable and I knew that he, for one, regretted that Dumbledore was dead. Some of the other Ministry wizards and witches had only feigned looks of sadness.

Rita Skeeter was here too, though I wasn't nearly as upset to see her than to see that Dolores Umbridge was here.

Yes, I had drawn her into the photo but that didn't mean I liked her. I hadn't liked Quirrell or Lockhart either, but there were certain respects you had to pay. But the fact that she was here at Dumbledore's funeral when she'd done nothing by try and get rid of him pissed me off. It made my blood boil.

She nearly sat down near dad and then when she saw him, hurried away. Even funnier was when she caught sight of Firenze and me and looked at Remus and nearly fainted. I snorted with laughter.

"I think," Firenze said slowly, "She believes the child to be ours."

"Yes." I said, slightly amused. "It was quite a lovely reaction."

Firenze chuckled and grew solemn again.

"I'm sorry." I said suddenly.

"For?"

"Dumbledore was the one who pulled you from the forest, from your home. I know you were doing him a favor, but in a way, he's the reason you were exiled from the forest. In a way, you might be mad Dumbledore died only a year later." I said slowly. "I don't mean to offend you though, if I am wrong."

"You have never offended me." Firenze said in a quiet voice. "You understand far more than the average wizard but then again, there really never was anything average about you."

I smiled a little bit and then he continued, "I suppose I am a little bitter, but I do not regret the decisions I have made, nor do I blame Dumbledore for me making the decision. It was my choice of course. I would have served Dumbledore to my death. I still would."

We fell silent as everyone became seated. I wondered briefly if it was even possible for a human and a Centaur to have a child and what the result would be. I fancied myself with Firenze for a moment, imaging what our child would look like. It kept my mind off other things.

I was one of the only people left standing, and though Trang and a few other people had obviously saved seats for me, I preferred standing here next to Firenze.

A strange music started to float through the air. At first, I thought it might be Fawkes again, but it came from somewhere else. I turned and slightly nudged Firenze and pointed to the water. The merpeople were singing below the surface.

Remus looked at them, probably not really able to see them for what they were. I was suddenly worried he'd start crying. Could silencing charms be used on babies or was that bad? And did contemplating that make me a bad mother?

But Remus did not cry and simply continued to stare on in curiosity, or maybe just in nothing as the Merpeople sung about loss and despair.

They continued to sing as Hagrid walked up the aisle between the chairs. He was crying silently, his face gleaming with tears. There was a large object wrapped in purple velvet that was embroidered with golden stars. It reminded me of one of the cloaks I'd drawn at an inn from the secret drawings with the sun and the moon.

I started to cry, tears falling down my face. Looking at many of the girls and women here, they were all doing the same. I reached out and took Firenze's hand for comfort, squeezing it. He squeezed back gently.

Hagrid placed the body carefully on the table and then walked back down the aisle, blowing his nose loudly. The noise drew scandalized and annoyed looks, almost all of them from the Ministry officials. I smiled a little. Dumbledore would've liked that. He knew how soft Hagrid was.

Grawp was in the very back, though some yards away from where Firenze and I stood at the waters edge. Hagrid sat down and Grawp patted Hagrid hard on the head, the chair legs of Hagrid's chair sank into the ground.

I laughed quietly under my breath.

The merpeople stopped singing.

There was a small tufty-haired man in plain black robes that had gotten to his feet and moved to stand in front of Dumbledore's body. He couldn't have been much taller than Professor Flitwick. His voice must've been high-pitched and squeaky like Professor Flitwick's too because from where we stood, we could not hear much of the speech.

Firenze probably heard more with his hearing.

There was a soft splashing noise and I looked over to see that the merpeople's heads had broken above water to listen. I smiled briefly at them before turning back to the small man up front as though I could hear his words.

Dumbledore had known Mermish. I wondered where he had learned it, how fluent he had been in it, and if he had ever taught it. I wondered if I could ever learn it.

"The centaurs are coming." I whispered up to Firenze, letting go of his hand carefully. If they saw us, I did not want them to see him holding my hand- the hand of a human. I smiled up at him gently.

"Yes." He said softly, giving me an understanding look, "They are in the trees."

Indeed, there seemed to be movement in the trees, though none of the Centaurs showed themselves.

I felt as though someone was watching me and I looked across from where I was standing but no one was looking at me. The hot air was just shimmering on the grass. I moved Remus Sirius to my other hip.

Finally, the small man stopped speaking and resumed his seat. No one moved, not even Professor McGonagall, who I thought would make some sort of speech, or the Minister. But no one moved an inch.

Then, bright white flames erupted around Dumbledore's body. A couple of people screamed. They were probably the Muggle born students or the parents of the Muggle born students. The ones who weren't expecting a body to catch on fire.

The flames also lit the table he was laying on, on fire too. The flames rose higher and higher. White smoke started to spiral through the air, making shapes. For a moment, it seemed as though a phoenix flew from the smoke into the blue but the flames were out a moment later and there was no phoenix in the sky. There was now a white marble coffin that Dumbledore was laying inside.

A shower of arrows soared gracefully through the air in neat, symmetrical arcs and landed a few feet from the coffin. It was the Centaurs' tribute. I saw the briefest glance of Ivagio's face before the Centaur's turned tail, heading back into the forest. The merpeople went back down into their lake.

People started to stand, talking to people they hadn't talked to prior to the funeral. Hands being shaken, conversations starting.

Firenze took my hand and squeezed it. "Until we meet again Elizabeth Kane."

I hugged him tightly before letting him go. He ran a hand over Remus' head before moving away from us.

He trotted back up to the castle, careful to pass by Dolores Umbridge, who jumped back with a shriek. I smiled.

Hermione and Ron joined me, Hermione taking Remus from my arms. I hadn't realized how sore they were. Her face was glazed with tears, Ron's arm around her. There were tearstains dropped all down the back of his dress robes. Hermione had obviously been crying all over him today.

Harry made his way towards us, to make a circuit around the lake. He got close, though not close enough to talk to us yet when behind him came Rufus Scrimgeour. "Harry!"

Harry turned, though not before we saw the briefest flash of annoyance cross his face.

"I've been hoping to have a word... do you mind if I walk a little way with you?"

"No." Harry said shortly, continuing on his way towards us.

"Harry, this was a dreadful tragedy. I cannot tell you how appalled I was to hear of it. Dumbledore was a very great wizard. We had our disagreements, as you know, but no one knows better than I-"

"What do you want?" Harry asked, having finally reached us.

"You are, of course, devastated. I know that you were very close to Dumbledore. I think you may have been his favorite pupil ever. The bond between the two of you-" Scrimgeour said, ignoring the rest of us completely. I saw over his shoulder that Kingsley, Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Dad were eyeing us with curiosity.

"What do you want?" Harry asked again.

Scrimgeour stopped, leaning on his walking stick, glancing at us. Professor McGonagall slowed to a stop near Kingsley.

"Say what you have to." Harry said, "But you'll have to say it in front of them."

"The word is that you were with him when he left the school the night that he died."

"Whose word?" Harry asked.

"Somebody Stupefied a Death Eater on top of the tower after Dumbledore died. There were also two broomsticks up there. The Ministry can add two and two, Harry."

"Glad to hear it. Well, where I went with Dumbledore and what we did is my business. He didn't want people to know." Harry said flatly.

"Such loyalty is admirable, of course, but Dumbledore is gone, Harry. He's gone."

"He will only be gone from the school when none here are loyal to him." Harry said, smiling.

"My dear boy. . . even Dumbledore cannot return from the-"

"It's what Harry said before killing the ghost of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets." I said before I could stop myself. "It's what Dumbledore said before he was taken away by the Governors. Dumbledore's spirit lives on whether you believe that or not and so Harry will always be tied to that loyalty of him."

Harry and I exchanged a knowing glance, a good one. We were always going to stick to each other's sides now.

Scrimgeour hesitated and then said, "The Ministry can offer you all sorts of protection, you know, Harry. I would be delighted to place a couple of my Aurors at your service-"

Harry laughed which startled even me. "Voldemort wants to kill me himself, and Aurors won't stop him. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks."

"And you?" Scrimgeour asked, looking at me and then Remus in Hermione's arms. "You do have a, ah, child now."

"Like Harry said, Voldemort wants me, a few Aurors won't stop him. I can take care of myself, I know how to disappear off the grid." I said confidently.

"Because your father's a werewolf?" Scrimgeour asked.

My face flushed and I took a step towards him. Harry grabbed my arm, "Take that back!" I snapped. Tonks squeezed Dad's hand. Uncle Moody was now leaning on his walking stick, having stopped by Kingsley's side, eyeing Rufus with dislike. Professor McGonagall looked rather nervous, watching my face.

Scrimgeour seemed unfazed. "It was a comment, not a criticism." He turned to Harry. "So, the request I made of you at Christmas-"

"What request? Oh yeah. . . the one where I tell the world what a great job you're doing in exchange for-"

"-for raising everyone's morale!" Scrimgeour snapped. He'd finally lost his delicate, sorrowful tone and I bit my tongue to keep from commenting.

"Released Stan Shunpike yet?" Harry asked.

"I see you are-"

"Dumbledore's man through and through. That's right." Harry said.

Scrimgeour stared at the four of us for a moment and then stomped back to where Percy and a few of the other Ministry delegation, waiting for him near Hagrid and Grawp.

"Let me go back and hit Percy." Ron said.

Hermione grabbed his arm. "No!"

"It'll make me feel better!"

Harry and I laughed. Hermione grinned a little, her smiled faded though, looking back up at the castle.

"I can't bear the idea that we might never come back. How can Hogwarts close?" she asked.

"Maybe it won't. We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we? Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, there are more wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen." Harry said.

"I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?" Hermione asked sadly.

"I'm going back to the Dursley's once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to. But it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good." Harry stated.

Remus started to fuss and Hermione handed him over.

"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?" Ron asked.

"I though I might go back to Godric's Hollow." Harry said. "For me, it started there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents' graves, I'd like that."

"And then what?" Ron asked.

"Then I've got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I?" Harry asked. "I've got a list of them right now. That's what he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all about them. If Dumbledore was right- and I'm sure he was- there are still four of them out there. I've got to find them and destroy them, and then I've got to go after the seventh bit of Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his body, and I'm the one who's going to kill him. And if-" Harry stopped and cleared his throat and said nothing more.

There was a long silence, many of the stragglers were finally starting to make their way out except for Kingsley, Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Dad who were still watching us.

"We'll be there, Harry." Ron said.

"What?" Harry asked, taken aback.

"At your aunt and uncle's house. And then we'll go with you wherever you're going."

"No." Harry said quickly.

"You said to us once before that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?" Hermione asked softly and both Hermione and Ron looked at me.

I shook my head, "I'm sorry, I can't."

"Why?" Ron demanded.

"Because. . ." I said softly. "Remus. I can't leave him, not now and. . . and. . . I see all the people who. . . who die next year and. . . and let's just say. . . say I'm close to a few of them and I. . . I'm going to try and prevent them from dying. . . formulate a plan, make more Felix Felicis. And if I'm. . . not successful. . ." I drew in a deep breath, more tears falling down my face, "Then at least I spent time with them, you know?" My voice cracked.

"I understand." Harry said. "And I'm glad."

"I believe your words would have been, 'No parent should leave their child if they have a choice'." I said with a smile.

"I said that?" Harry asked, seeming surprised.

"Yes." I said. "Or, you will."

"Well," Ron said, "You're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."

"Why?" Harry and I both asked.

"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?"

I stared at Ron for a moment and then started to laugh and the other three joined in with me and when we were finally able to stop laughing Harry said, "Yeah, we shouldn't miss that."

⬅️➡️

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browneyeddevil · 2 years ago

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Spellings

Hi everyone! Long time no see lol

Here's a question for all my friends across the pond.

How jarring do you find it in a piece of fiction when something is spelt in the British English way? For instance 'Mum' instead of 'Mom'.

Because I know when I first started to read American fiction and fan fiction seeing the word 'pants' used instead of 'trousers' would genuinely crack me up (and when I was younger, have me very... concerned 😅).

I ask you this because, although I know THG is set in America, and Twelve in the southern states at that, having Katniss or Prim call their mother 'Mom' instead of 'Mum' feels... icky to me.

So yeah, would you say that would be distracting and pull you out of the story or it's 'eh whatever 🤷‍♀️'?

Anyone feel free to chip in - I need to knowwww :)

#writing things #spelling #thg #quesion

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misfitwashere · 17 days ago

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May 3, 2025

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

MAY 4

READ IN APP

I had thought to post a picture tonight and then realized that today was the 151st running of the Kentucky Derby. The event was launched in 1875 as horse racing—with its famous Black jockeys, who won more than half of the first 28 derbies—was gaining an audience in the U.S.

A horse-based event gives me the opportunity to repost a piece my friend Michael S. Green and I wrote together a number of years ago on Ten Famous American Horses. While it has no deep meaning, it does illustrate that there is history all around us, a theme you’ll hear more about from me soon. And it was totally fun to research, too. I spent hours watching Mr. Ed shows and reading entertainment theory, but the insightful detail—and the inclusion of Khartoum—is all Michael. This piece remains one of my favorite things I ever had a hand in writing.

So tonight, let’s take the night off from the craziness of today's America and recall past eras when horses could make history.

1) Traveller

General Robert E. Lee rode Traveller (spelled with two Ls, in the British style) from February 1862 until the general’s death in 1870. Traveller was a grey American Saddlebred of 16 hands. He had great endurance for long marches, and was generally unflappable in battle, although he once broke both of General Lee’s hands when he shied at enemy movements. Lee brought Traveller with him when he assumed the presidency of Washington and Lee University. Traveller died of tetanus in 1871. He is buried on campus, where the safe ride program still uses his name.

2) Comanche

Comanche was attached to General Custer’s detachment of the 7th Cavalry when it engaged the Lakota in 1876 at the Battle of Little Bighorn. The troops in the detachment were all killed in the engagement, but soldiers found Comanche, badly wounded, two days later. They nursed him back to health, and he became the 7th Cavalry’s mascot. The commanding officer decreed that the horse would never again be ridden and that he would always be paraded, draped in black, in all military ceremonies involving the 7th Cavalry. When Comanche died of colic in 1891, he was given a full military funeral (the only other horse so honored was Black Jack, who served in more than a thousand military funerals in the 1950s and 1960s). Comanche’s taxidermied body is preserved in the Natural History Museum at the University Of Kansas.

3) Beautiful Jim Key

Beautiful Jim Key was a performing horse trained by formerly enslaved veterinarian Dr. William Key. Key demonstrated how Beautiful Jim could read, write, do math, tell time, spell, sort mail, and recite the Bible. Beautiful Jim performed from 1897 to 1906 and became a legend. An estimated ten million Americans saw him perform, and others collected his memorabilia—buttons, photos, and postcards—or danced the Beautiful Jim Key two-step. Dr. Key insisted that he had taught Beautiful Jim using only kindness, and Beautiful Jim Key’s popularity was important in preventing cruelty to animals in America, with more than 2 million children signing the Jim Key Band of Mercy, in which they pledged: “I promise always to be kind to animals.”

4) Man o’ War

Named for his owner, August Belmont, Jr., who was overseas in World War I, Man o’ War is widely regarded as the top Thoroughbred racehorse of all time. He won 20 of his 21 races and almost a quarter of a million dollars in the early twentieth century. His one loss—to Upset—came after a bad start. Man o’ War sired many of America’s famous racehorses, including Hard Tack, which in turn sired Seabiscuit, the small horse that came to symbolize hope during the Great Depression.

5) Trigger

Entertainer Roy Rogers chose the palomino Trigger from five rented horses to be his mount in a Western film in the 1930s, changing his name from Golden Cloud to Trigger because of his quick mind and feet. Rogers rode Trigger in his 1950s television series, making the horse a household name. When Trigger died, Rogers had his skin draped over a Styrofoam mold and displayed it in the Roy Rogers and Dale Evans Museum in California. He also had a 24-foot statue of Trigger made from steel and fiberglass. One other copy of that mold was also made: it is “Bucky the Bronco,” which rears above the Denver Broncos stadium south scoreboard.

6) Sergeant Reckless

American Marines in Korea bought a mare in October 1952 from a Korean stable boy who needed the money to buy an artificial leg for his sister, who had stepped on a land mine. The marines named her Reckless after their unit’s nickname, the Reckless Rifles. They made a pet of her and trained her to carry supplies and to evacuate wounded. She learned to travel supply routes without a guide: on one notable day she made 51 solo trips. Wounded twice, she was given a battlefield rank of corporal in 1953 and promoted to sergeant after the war, when she was also awarded two Purple Hearts and a Marine Corps Good Conduct Medal.

7) Mr. Ed

Mr. Ed was a talking palomino in a 1960s television show by the same name. At a time when Westerns dominated American television, Mr. Ed was the anti-Western, with the main human character a klutzy architect and the hero a horse that was fond of his meals and his comfortable life, and spoke with the voice of Allan “Rocky” Lane, who made dozens of “B” westerns. But the show was a five-year hit as it married the past to the future. Mr. Ed offered a gentle, homely wisdom that enabled him to straighten out the troubles of the humans around him. The startling special effects that made it appear that the horse was talking melded modern technology with the comforting traditional community depicted in the show.

8) Black Jack

Black Jack, named for John J. “Black Jack” Pershing, was the riderless black horse in the funerals of John F. Kennedy, Herbert Hoover, Lyndon Johnson, and Douglas MacArthur, as well as more than a thousand other funerals with full military honors. A riderless horse, with boots reversed in the stirrups, symbolized a fallen leader, while Black Jack’s brands—a U.S. brand and an army serial number—recalled the army’s history. Black Jack himself was buried with full military honors; the only other horse honored with a military funeral was Comanche.

9) Khartoum

Khartoum was the prize stud horse of Jack Woltz, the fictional Hollywood mogul in Mario Puzo’s The Godfather. In one of the film version’s most famous scenes, after Woltz refuses requests from Don Vito Corleone to cast singer Johnny Fontane in a movie, Woltz wakes up to find Khartoum’s head in bed with him…and agrees to use Fontane in the film. In the novel, Fontane wins the Academy Award for his performance. According to old Hollywood rumor, the story referred to real events. The rumor was that mobsters persuaded Columbia Pictures executive Harry Cohn to cast Frank Sinatra in From Here to Eternity. As Maggio, Sinatra revived his sagging film career and won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor.

10) Secretariat

Secretariat was an American Thoroughbred that in 1973 became the first U.S. Triple Crown winner in 25 years. His records in the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness Stakes, and the Belmont Stakes still stand. After Secretariat was stricken with a painful infection and euthanized in 1989, an autopsy revealed that he had an unusually big heart. Sportswriter Red Smith once asked his trainer how Secretariat had run one morning; Charlie Hatton replied, “The trees swayed.”

—

Notes:

#Kentucky Derby #heather cox richardson #letters from an american

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snowwhiteandthesevenpotters · 2 months ago

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If Hermione was chosen for the Triwizard Tournament

"So, today´s the day.", said Harry as he sits down at the gryffindor table, where Ron and I were already eating our old meal. Well actually we weren't really eating, I was way too nervous so I was just stiring in it. "Did you read all the stuff that we found out about dragons in the library yesterday?", Harry asked. "Yes I …", but Ron interrupted me:"Of course we did! Every article at least two or three times! Even I remember most of it, so it should´t be a problem for her, right Hermione?" I still could´t believe Ron actually stood up with me the whole night and tried to learn everything imaginable about dragons. I know what he thought about studying. He was one of the things that gave me the strength to do this. "Yes that´s right, but to know about them still doesn't make sure I can defeat them… you know my talent is knowledge, not application." "Yeah but you know every spell you could use, and their weaknesses, come on Hermione, I`m pretty sure you can do it! You´ll show that dragon!", Ron said. "We believe in you.", Harry added.

The way down to the champions tent, we met all the other Hogwarts students. Most of them just tapped me on the shoulder and said things like: "Good luck Hermione!" or "For Hogwarts!" But none of them could make me fell less worried. Fred and George came up to me and George whispered: "We bet five galleons that you catch that egg in less then 10 minuets, don´t let us down!"

After 20 minuets of waiting, Dumbledore came into the tent to give us our dragons. My hand was shaking very bad as I put it into the little bag with the tiny versions of the dragons. I grabbed the first little creature I touched and brought my hand back up: in it was a little curved dragon with dark rough scales, ridges along its back and a tail whipped with an arrow-shaped spike. "Aaah, the Hebridean Black! Home in the Hebrides Islands of scotland.", Dumbledore said. I knew that it was a Hebridean Black from scotland. I read everything about it. I also knew that it has brilliant purple eyes, can grow to be up to thirty feet long and that its favourite food is deer, although it has been known to carry off cows. The good news was, it was one of the smallest dragons that exist, the bad news, the Hebridean Black is more aggressive than any other dragon native to the british Isles. "So, if there aren´t any questions, the first task will begin when you hear the shot of the canon outside the tent, first Durmstrang, then Hogwarts and then the student from Beauxbatons! Good luck everyone!", and then he was gone. "Okay Hermione", I said to myself, "You can do this, just remember a spell that would be perfect for the Hebridean Black …"

After felt minutes it was my turn to go and face my dragon. I didn´t had anything except for my wand. But my hands were so sweaty, that I thought I might drop it. When I stepped into the stadium, everyone, except for the students from the other schools, was cheering my name. I enjoyed it for maybe 10 seconds, before the cheering turned into screaming. First I didn´t realize what was happening, but then I turned around and saw my opponent: It seemed way more than only thirty feet from down here. And if I wouldn't be in this life threatening situation, I would've probably thought this dragon to be the most beautiful one I ever saw. My first thought was: run. But then I noticed the dragon wasn't even looking at me. It probably hand´t even noticed me yet. So my second thought was: hide. I made really slow moves and hide behind a big rock. I knew that dragons have a good sense of smell, so I wouldn't have that much time. I looked up into the crowd of people, hoping to see anything helpful, and I did. There was Ron making wild gestures in my direction with his arms. Then I understood. He wasn't pointing at me, he pointed at the rock behind me: "One of the best ways to fight a dragon, is from a higher position" that stood in one of the articles we read. But what am I going to do once I stand on that rock?! Because of their skin, it´s not clever to us the stunning spell (stupefy). I really couldn´t use the Fiendfyre curse, no, not in this small hall with all the people in it. The only thing I could think of was the conjunctivitis curse, but on the other hand, what would a dragon at this high level of aggression do, once its eyes were irritated?

I couldn´t know. But what else could I do? Nothing. So I just did it. I climbed up the rock, made sure the dragon still didn´t realize someone was in it´s near, and whipped my wand. But to make it a powerful spell, I had to make the dragon look in my direction, to hit it right in it´s eye. I started moving with my arms and screaming: "Hey, dragon! Look at me! I would like to show you something!" Of course it didn´t understand me, but I had to yell something. It slowly turned its head in my direction, and as fast as I could, I screamed: "Conjunctivito!" and made a flick with my wand. Out of it, bursted a really big pink beam of magic, and it hit the dragon right in it´s left eye. First I thought it didn´t work, because the dragon wasn´t moving at all, and I started to panic, but then it let out a really loud and long scream of pain, and its eyes started to turn pink and swell. I knew I had to be quick, bevor it was going to get mad, and maybe destroy the egg, or hurt somebody, especially me. I jumped of the rock and ran to the dragons nest, where I already saw from far behind, the big, golden egg. The Hebridean Black started waving with its big spiky tail and I knew I had to handle quick. But five meters in front of the nest, the dragons tail hit me right against my chest. It threw me ten meters away and I landed on my back. It hurt terribly, I tried to breath but i could´t. i just lay there and gasped for air. I heard all the people scream that I had to get up, but I couldn't. It hurt too bad. I just hoped the dragon would not find me. I closed my eyes and tried to just breath. And after a while my lungs were working again normally. I stood up rally slowly. I was surprised that the dragon hadn't find me yet, and I looked around. The dragon was on the other side of the stadium and was hitting a big tree with it´s tail, and spiting fire on the ground. This was my chance. I ran as fast as I could with my still hurting back, and hoped it didn´t already destroyed the egg. But when I came to the nest, the egg wasn't there anymore. Neither destroyed or whole. I started to look franticly around me. And then I saw it, it was stuck in a tree next to me. I had to climb about two meters to get it. When I held it in my hands, a loud noise from above the stadium rang out, and the crowd went wild.

I don´t know where the dragon went, but I was carried out of the stadium by, I think, two men from the ministry. Back in the tent, the first two people to storm in where Harry and Ron. "I knew you´d show that dragon! You should´ve seen its face when it started hitting that tree! I think the dragon thought it was you …", said Ron. "Dumbledore had to rebuild the protection spell above the seats, because of all the fire the dragon was spitting!", explained Harry.

In that night the whole gryffindor tower, and most of the ravenclaws and hufflepuffs celebrated in the great hall until midnight. Except for me, Harry and Ron. Because of my bag, I had to stay at Madame Pomfrey's. But I couldn't imagine something better than sitting here with my two best friends and croockshanks, eating Bertie Bott's every flavor Beans and talking about what the second task could be.

#harry potter #hermionegranger #triwizard tournament #fanfic #ronweasley

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katgametable · 2 months ago

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Oxventure: Wyrdwood Set-Up

Written 23 Feb 2025, shortly after listening to “Talking” pod episode, having watched the vids of all eight episodes of season 1 some months ago.

It feels a bit weird listening to this…almost a teaser, having already seen the game play out. It’s also interesting that they didn’t introduce the characters, although given they did that at the start of episode one anyway, they probably didn’t think it necessary.

I shall introduce them now. Mike plays Lug the Firbolg Barbarian, who acts as a guide for visitors to the woods. Luke plays Happen the Human Ranger, who belongs to the cult of Cadence, goddess of luck, and delights in extremes of luck both good and bad - he has his own personal mechanic where he can choose to roll the Cadence Dice, a d20 with five 20s and five 1s. Jane plays Willowfine the Aasimar Cleric, the first time they’ve had a dedicated healer. Ellen plays Cressida Blackwater the Human Elf Wizard, who is a morally deficient banker from an established family, and sports a pair of ram’s horns due to a mishap with magic gone weird. And Andy plays Robin Oatcake, a Normal Human Man.

BTW, they’re using DnD 2024 rules.

So, what do they talk about? Well, Johnny talks a bit about British folklore. They says that after they wrapped up the Guild, they were given a blank slate to come up with a pitch. And they came up with the idea of a world based on that folklore. They wanted low fantasy, but DnD is very high fantasy, and they didn’t want to restrict the players but nor did they want them firing off spells nilly-willy. So they put forth the concept that magic is corrupted, and while the characters can use as much magic as they like, there’s a risk. This is the debt mechanic. Every time a player draws on magic, they accrue a point of debt. Then they roll a d100 (in this game they have a single die with 1-100, rather than a d10 and a d10 percentile), and if the roll matches their debt points, or lower, they get an envelope with a consequence that will take effect next time they draw on magic - and then their debt is halved. Johnny wanted to make magic risky, but not disrupt gameplay too much, so rather than rolling debt after every magic use, they do it at the end of each episode.

As the tagline says, magic will have its due.

Additional notes, from the character creation video posted after episode 1 was released, so spoilers for that: They started at Level 5. Mike decided to make a Firbolg forest guide, but he knew Luke was already playing a ranger, so he leaned into the background and used the Barbarian class. Luke had read a novel called Black Tongue Thief, which has a character who can sense if he’s lucky or not, so he worked backwards from a character obsessed with luck and giving into it. Luke made the Cadence Dice himself, exploding out the net of a d20 and replacing some of the numbers. To Happen, a nat 1 and a nat20 are equally exciting, so only having a fifty percent chance of a crit felt right. He’s also only allowed three Cadence rolls per long rest. He is a Swarmkeeper ranger, so he has a swarm of pixies to help carry out his will. Jane felt inspired by the world profile to play a character dedicated to her people and her deity and nature, which felt like it fed into cleric, which fitted with her desire to play a dedicated healer – Oxventure did have two non-dedicated healers, but they never really healed. Jane also wanted someone helpful, a break from the chaotic evil of Prudence. Willowfine is Life Domain. Andy wanted someone very different from Corazon, and someone who had a lot of room for the story to develop around him and have a character arc. He doesn’t know himself fully how his characters will resolve the tension between them. He’s given Robin the commoner stat block, and contrasted it with Morven Hellwain being an Aberrant Sorcerer, whose skills are mostly psionics based. Corazon had about three spells that he used as a joke, and now Morven has about thirty. Ellen, once again, wanted someone very different from her Guild character, so rather than friendly Merilwen, she went for the slightly Disney villainesque character, who’s a total fish out of water in the wild; she always relied on magic, so she’s a wizard, which means her whole life has been upended, more than most of the party. With the new mixed-race rules, Ellen was picking and choosing elf features and human features.

#Oxventure #Oxventure Wyrdwood #Wyrdwood #DnD #Dungeons and Dragons #TTRPG

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septic-selfships · 6 months ago

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my friendos marvol and sunby. as british people, how do you like your tea

"Steaming hot. What other way is there to drink it?"

"I'm joking, mostly. I enjoy peppermint and herbal tea the most, my mum quite enjoyed it that way as well. Teas are also a wonderful way to give someone a healing spell. I've tried tea the way Valerie enjoys it, I find it strange but it's not awful. I prefer to measure my own sugar, though..."

"I like a nice, warm cup of earl grey tea. I'll drink just about any kind, I'm not terribly picky. Val has made myself and Marvin sweet tea a few times, I liked it as well, although it took a while to get used to it. I also like when Marvin makes peppermint tea, even if he makes it a bit strong."

"Have a wonderful evening."

#(ooc: they BETTER like it >:D /lh)#magic man 💚🩵#golden bear 💛🤍#prof/ovember #jasper answers #dtaegis #jasper screams

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tipsycad147 · 10 months ago

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What is Witchcraft 101? Magical Secrets of the Craft

What is Witchcraft – When Did Witchcraft Begin?

Many people write to us wanting to know the origins of witchcraft. Where, they ask, did it come from? What is Witchcraft really? Is witchcraft a cult of devil worship? A delusion? A mass hysteria? I can honestly say that is none of the above.

The word ‘Witchcraft’ has its origins in England where was used from the 12th century until the close of the 17th century to describe a person who used spells and charms to accomplish certain ends. The term ‘witch’ appeared to be the result of an amalgamation of various components drawn from folklore.

These elements were “fused together with the conceptual glue of ‘demonic pact”. During this time, witches were assumed to have abandoned Christianity and to worship Satan. Through labelling someone as a ‘witch’, religious and political groups, as well as ill-intentioned individuals, were able to exercise a system of subjugation and control over the people whom they perceived as a threat. People were seen as threatening, due to their abilities as healers, because of their divergent beliefs or simply because they did not ‘fit’ into the roles which society had deemed as being acceptable.

Labelling a person as a ‘witch’ left them vulnerable to attack and open for persecution. The persecution of ‘witches’ often resulted in torture and death. The witch-hunts and inquisitions which took place from 1450 to 1750 are thought to have resulted in 35,000 – 100,000 deaths. Most of the people killed during this time were women. Possibly the most notorious witch trial of all is that of Joan of Arc. Joan was burned alive at the stake after having been accused of being a witch in what was later deemed to have been politically motivated and unlawful trial.

A woman accused of being a witch being burned alive at the stake.

Witchcraft itself is steeped in mystery and hidden in antiquity. There are few written sources describing witchcraft and those that do exist are often obscure and difficult to make sense of. We can find traces of witchcraft and magic in old Norse legends and an Arthurian legend has it that Arthur’s half-sister, Morgan la Fay was a witch.

Much of what we now understand as ‘witchcraft’ is simplified and unsophisticated in comparison with the lost witches lore burned during the inquisitions. Witchcraft itself has long been associated with cultural stigma and even recently, to call a woman as a ‘witch’ was considered a grave insult.

Up until 1959, the ‘Witchcraft act’ which prohibited the practice of witchcraft remained in force in Britain. In 1959 the ‘witchcraft act’ was repealed by British courts. Following the repeal, witchcraft has undergone a worldwide renaissance and interest surrounding the topic seems to be following a sharp upward trend.

It’s becoming much more common to hear people identify themselves as witches. Isn’t it great home times have changed?

What is Witchcraft?

Modern understandings of witchcraft have been largely shaped by people such as Gerald Gardner, Aleister Crowley and Dion Fortune.

According to Gerald Gardner witchcraft can be divided into three categories:

Those who believe that witchcraft is a mass hysteria resulting from psychological causes

Those who believe that witchcraft is real but centred around the service to Satan

Those who maintain that witchcraft is the remains of an old Pagan religion, dating back to the stone age and that the church’s persecution of it was because it was a dangerous rival.

Gardner claims that there are still witches practising the craft today who are direct descendants of ancient witch families. He believes that these witches have inherited ancient knowledge but that they remain highly secretive and that their knowledge remains largely hidden.

Garner also writes that witches believe in reincarnation with a common saying amongst witches being ‘once a witch always a witch’. Although much of the ancient knowledge of witchcraft has been lost or destroyed, Garner believes that the real knowledge can never be lost and that it will continue to find its way into human consciousness life after life.

“The witch is the babe in the womb and the child in the arms of the mother. She is the maiden racing through the sun-drenched fields and dancing coyly in the moonlight. She is the eternal women in the arms of her lover, the mother giving birth and caring for her young. She is the old one sharing her knowledge and love with those who follow in her footsteps, waiting with a happy heart for the cycle to start anew. The Witch is the Wise One, and to her door come those seeking to share her knowledge, love and light. Standing solidly she flows with the tides, drifts with the winds and warms herself in the flames of knowledge”

What is Witchcraft – Types of Witchcraft

We’ve also written a detailed guide about different types of witches if you want a more detailed guide.

The Dark Witch – Deals with the darker side of magic. Works with hexes and taboos. Focus on raw primordial energy. They do not have laws like the ‘threefold law’ and do not believe in Karma

The Grey Witch – Works with both the lighter and the darker side of magic and seeks to balance the two. For them, magic is a neutral grey, neither inherently good or bad.

The Green Witch – Works with the energy of natural objects and the natural world such as herbs, crystals and the elements.

The Hedge Witch – A healer or wise woman. Skilled in the use of herbs and natural plant-based medicine.

Wiccan Witch – One who embraces the religion of Wicca

Stregha / Stregheria – A form of witchcraft native to Italy. Its followers worship the forces of nature.

Do you know what type of witch you are? Maybe you love to work with familiars!

What is Witchcraft – Are Wicca and Witchcraft the Same?

Although opinions differ in regards to this question, with some people putting witchcraft and Wicca into the same ‘pot’ so to speak, I beg to differ. Whilst Wicca is a recognised religion, birthed in the 1950s by Gerald B Gardner, Witchcraft enjoys no such official recognition.

In fact, many people who call themselves ‘witches’ do not believe in any form of religion at all and may even find it irritating to be defined as ‘Wiccan’. Witches may be spiritual but non-religious, they may define themselves as Pagan or as non-Pagan. They might call themselves Wiccan or they may seek to differentiate themselves entirely from Wiccan religion.

Amaria wrote a whole article explaining the difference between Witchcraft and Wicca if your interested in learning more.

What is Witchcraft – What is the Purpose of Witchcraft?

“Witchcraft is a practical system of mysticism, whose method is known as magick” The foundation of magical beliefs, of which witchcraft is one, is that there are certain unseen powers in existence and that through performing certain rituals or actions these powers can be contacted or asked to assist in some way. Witches believe that this magical power also resides within themselves.

Magical powers are in everyone and everything. Learning how to harness them is the key.

Witchcraft actively acknowledges and encourages a psychic dimension to life. Through the use of rituals and certain actions, this elemental and unseen power is given expression. The purpose of Witchcraft is to foster and maintain a lifelong relationship with these powers.

As such, Witchcraft itself is neither black nor white, good or bad. It is the intention or knowledge behind it which matters. As one witch said to a reporter, “What do I get out of it (witchcraft)? I get a life that holds infinite possibilities and is entirely satisfying to me on all planes of consciousness. I experience pleasure in forms unknown to most people, I have conquered fear. I have learned the unordered pattern behind apparently unrelated things”

What is Witchcraft – Can Anyone Become a Witch?

This is a question that I have been asked quite often and whilst I am aware that some opinions differ from mine, I would answer that yes, everyone can become a witch. Some people believe that you are either born a witch or not but I find this to be an outdated and elitist understanding of witchcraft.

Some people do not yet know that they are witches but they will discover it over time. If you have a natural inclination towards spellwork, found yourself engaged in magical thoughts and fantasies as a child and have sometimes or often had visions come to pass, all signs point to the fact that you may be on your way towards becoming a witch.

What is Witchcraft – What Religion is Witchcraft?

Witchcraft is not a religion. Unlike Wicca, which has been officially recognised as a religion, witchcraft enjoys no such recognition.

What is Witchcraft – What was the Mark of the Witch Really?

The mark of the witch was used as a way to identify witches during the witch trials and inquisitions which took place between the 12th and late 17th centuries. The search for the witches or Devils mark made up an important part of the examination of suspected witches. In England and America, the mark was often thought to be an extra nipple where the witch’s familiar suckled. New witches were believed to have been given the witches mark by the devil himself.

The mark is described by Reverend John Bell, minister of Gladsmuir in 1705, as being found in “secret places, as among the hair of the head, or eyebrows, within the lips, under the arm-pits, and even in the most secret parts of the body… I myself have seen it in the body of a confessing witch, like a little powder-mark, of a blea colour, somewhat hard, and with all insensible, so as it did not bleed when I pricked it”.

There is no scientific evidence to suggest that the mark of the witch exists at all. In all probability, the mark was used as a way to persecute innocent people accused of witchcraft. The mark could have been a mole, a skin lesion, an area of discoloured skin, a genetic abnormality or a tattoo.

People who confessed to having the mark of the witch often did so under extreme duress in the form of torture. During the 17th Century, so-called ‘prickers’ were employed to validate that the mark in question was indeed the mark of the witch. This was done through ‘pricking’ the mark with a needle. The mark was confirmed as being ‘of the Devil’ if the person in question did not flinch in pain when the mark was pricked or if the mark did not bleed after having been pricked. Many of the men employed as prickers were rogues who “ went about the country abusing simple and ignorant people for private gain and commodities‘.

As to the question of why some people did not flinch in pain, I offer the following excerpt as an explanation:

“Finally, some subjects may have voluntarily suppressed any display of pain in order to get the search over with … Many suspects must have come to the conclusion that the procedure would continue until the prickers found what they were looking for. Being repeatedly stabbed to the bone with a long needle could be embarrassing as well as painful … some suspects might have suppressed a flinch to a needle prick in their arm in order to avoid having their anus or vagina probed … or to simply put an end to a painful and seemingly endless search”.(Mcdonald, S. W. (1997). The Devil’s Mark and the Witch-Prickers of Scotland. Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine)

You can read about the way in which witches marks were used as a way to prove guilt in this article. The story centres around Mrs Laing, who was accused of stealing a glass of milk in Scotland in 1704. After the prosecution carried out a full body search on Mrs Laing and confirmed that she did indeed carry the mark of the witch, she was brutally tortured, placed in a dungeon and died shortly thereafter.

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