#Haile Binns

[ancestorsalive]

A Samhain story from the Old Woman

I am known to my neighbours as the strange one, the one who talks to the unseen and it is said I walk the roads whilst others sleep.

These same neighbours come to me for help with the troubles of country living; a sick mare, a lame cow or a strange event that preys upon the mind.

At these times I make the tea, stand the pot on the hearth and let the silence brew. I suggest a simple explanation for the opening door, the chill at the fireside or a room the dog won’t enter. Most times they are satisfied.

With others a pinch of truth is all that’s needed to recall piseogs and buried knowledge then the chat goes on long into the night.

So I live amongst these people, not quite accepted by them, for I do not go to mass as they do nor hail the priest as father.

I keep to my own ways, spirit unbounded by men with rules and robes. Now and then I catch a sharp glance from some busy farmer as I visit mound and lone thorn but they do not guess my secret for I am as old as the hills.

Three times a year I leave my home in darkness, needing neither broom nor steed, I rise from my bed to fly above the sleeping townland.

Whitethorn scent may rise to meet me or, as tonight, turf smoke greets my flight across grey fields.

Skimming winding river I am observed but not by human eyes.

Deer, owl and hare all know my ways, the night is ours.

Over hidden valley and bald mountain top I rise to settle on the tumbled cairn.

Below land stretches away in shades of darkness undisturbed.

A sigh, long and deep, escapes me.

Eyes close to invoke Samhain long past when the people knew me, held me close, honoured my age and my wisdom.

But now my heart is heavy with old memories, sorrow gnaws at my breasts and I nurse it. Alone, unloved, forgotten in this modern world.

Finally a bitter wind shakes me from the past. Keen-eyed again, I stretch my sight to spy the distant horizon.

Far off, a shift, a smudge, disturbs my vision.

A wisp of smoke. A soar of sparks. Now a flare of yellow red. That is Tlachta. Her fire is kindled !

One by one other heights reply;

Teamhair first, then Cruacháin, Uisneach, Sliabh na Caillí, Cruachán Aigle and Binn Ghulbain. Sliabh gCuillinn, Sliabh Dónairt, twin fires upon Dá Chích Anann.

Hill top beacons burst with fire. In valleys tiny flames wake as dormant village cross-roads ignite.

A million flames, a rosary of fire across the land.

The old ways are remembered and us ancient ones, who have never left, return.

Here, upon the Height of Ireland, I stand tall again.

- Words © Jane Brideson

In the ancient past the Samhain fire was ceremonially lit by the Druids on Tlachtga, the Hill of Ward in Co. Meath.

Answering fires were also lit on other prominent places across the landscape. In more recent times the Tlachtga ceremony has been rekindled.

[jaketoria4ever]

Imagine the Second British Wizarding War

Imagine, that during the chaos of it all, people forgot their uniforms on the 2nd of May. That, when they all were summoned by Headmaster Snape, they just huddled in close groups regardless of house, because, the older ones were too tired to care and the younger ones either just plain didn't, or were too frightened to point it out. Some even felt it rebellious.

Imagine, Slytherins calmly following Filch, not showing a bit of emotion, inwardly seething at the assistant Headmistress at her prejudice, because We want to fight too! Hogwarts was their home too! Imagine, a group of them quietly planning a way to get out, because they wanted to fight against the prejudice, the stereotypes, especially against the one who fostered them, encouraged them, made the students outcasts within the one place in the entirety of Europe where they weren't supposed have been restrained.

Imagine, a muggleborn who loved philosophy and thinking, chained against the walls, waiting for the torture. As they are thinking, the reach a realization - it is human nature to be cruel, to hurt others, to hurt themselves. It is animal nature to hunt the weaker ones - in nature everyone is separated by their abilities, is it not. And it is evident - every child is born with both evil and good abilities. Society and environment perception is what changes. Just as a toddler squishes insects, pulls out rooted plant and destroys sandcastles, just as a child bullies those younger and weaker. Murderers, Hit-men, Executors, Prosecutors, the entire justice system. Hierarchy. Politics and Political Immunity. Power. The fact that there are such words and positions, descriptions in the human language is enough evidence - this was meant to be. Submission.

Then imagine, the quiet little ones, the ones who didn't want to fight themselves, the ones didn't want the fame or the grief, the ones who would rather sit on the sidelines and watch. But they didn't just watch, they helped in the small ways. They would either be known as cowards or traitors for not helping in the war effort, instead choosing to heal the fallen. Or they would be hailed as heroes, quietly, their recognition dwarfed by the larger heroes. But the spirit within them was satisfied that they had done their own work, hadn't gotten in the way, hadn't hindered anyone. That was enough.

Imagine, a Pureblood, who didn't like this supremacy, who wanted to help. They quietly slipped on the mask they wore at home, cold and haughty, to the point that no one could recognize them. Secretly they mastered non-verbal spells, how to say one spell's incantation and channel the command of another. They created a spell create the illusion of torture. When the torture sessions finally came and they were called on, their muggleborn's eyes widened, behind the security of the illusion, of course. Detachment.

Imagine, even after the that one year of rebuilding, none of the muggleborns who had attended their first and second years in 1997 trusting magic and turning away from it - attending private tuition payed for by the British ministry because it couldn't afford the loss of muggleborns. Not now, so soon after the war. Distrust.

Imagine, the ones who do take the risk of coming back, flinch at every corner and are so suspicious, that they would do Mad-Eye Moody proud. No one can blame them and, apart from the newly arriving 1st year muggleborns, everyone also is on edge too. Paranoia.

Imagine, one of them getting extremely angry that this unqualified ghost is going on about goblin rebellions when they have gone through literal war. Importance.

Imagine someone calming them down and gently explaining to the professor that Cuthbert Binns may have been a wonderful history professor, but ghosts were mere imprints. The ghost of Binns had no real purpose and should ascend or the cosmic balance of the Underworld would eventually collapse. Imagine them quietly mentioning that Binns had never actually lived through what they needed to learn. Admittance.

Imagine, when he finally ascends, all that is left of him was a simple stone grave, with the engravings of all the students who had passed through his class during is living years. Appreciated.

Imagine, two years later, the student who protested came back to teach and it felt exhilarating, being thought by someone competent. Experience.

Imagine, after leaving the magical world for good, a muggleborn marries a Jewish Muggle history teacher. They have a happy family, but the spouse notices the way the mage flinches at the slightest of unplanned touches, like a reflex. He's seen that in the way his parents act, as though they've been scarred forever by something none should have experienced. Scarring.

Imagine, in 2003, when no one but the teachers, ghosts and Hogwarts itself have witnessed war. They know war will keep happening - it is human nature. They also know that the ones who fight always do it for a reason - that is also Human Nature.

Imagine all those who were on the run - not just Ron, Harry or Hermione, all of them - still having moments where they chastise themselves for eating too much, for not being cautious, for being out of practice. Muscle memory, they say. Reflexes.

Imagine muggleborns, not as strong as Lily Evans, not as clever as Hermione Granger, not as impulsive as Dean Thomas, not as selfless as Colin Creevey, not as dismissive as Myrtle Warren, not as accepting as Edward Tonks, not as opinionated as Justin Finch-Fletchley, but not as innocent as they seemed to be. Imagine them, living with horrors they wouldn't have faced if only they weren't magical.

Imagine the Purebloods who played along and those that followed their own heart's desire. Whatever the decision, however, they were still marked by the events that took place in 1997.

Imagine the Half-bloods and the ones with mixed heritage - torn between accepting quiet safety and staying loyal to their families. They had to make their choices quick, themselves or family.

Imagine the ones that can never tell those who love them how they truly feel for fear of hurting them, who hide their talents, can they even be called that, for fear of frightening them. Imagine the decisions they took and the consequences they will forever live with.

Imagine the ones who never grew up and the ones that had to grow up too soon.

Imagine war victims and war survivors.

Imagine children.

[onlyfreds]

congrats on 700!! For your blurbs can I get 25- dialogue and 8- situations with possibly punk!Freddie? maybe some angst to fluff. or like an argument into cuddles? thank you!!

Of course Haley! Thank you for requesting this!

Blurb event is now closed

Leather Jacket

Prompts: Person B breaking into Person A’s room through their window + “It’s midnight, where the hell were you?”

Once your professor had dismissed the class, you were the first one out of the door.

Truthfully, class was supposed to be dismissed 30 minutes ago. But some of your classmates decided to be idiots - earning the whole class a 30 minute lecture.

You weaved past crowds of students, dashing to the parking lot, hoping that your boyfriend wouldn’t think that you ditched him.

He was on his phone, leaning against his motorcycle. Fred was wearing a gray shirt and ripped jeans, his hair messed up just the way you liked it.

You stopped in front of him, trying to catch your breath, “I-I’m sorry Freddie, I promise I didn’t forget. Our professor had to lecture some idiots and-“

You were interrupted when Fred pressed a finger to your lips, giving you a smile, “Hush darling. Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure that the whole school heard Professor Binns’ lecture.”

The two of you started laughing before he handed you a helmet as the two of you climbed on to his motorcycle.

You wrapped your arms around his waist as you sped along the highway.

Fred parked the vehicle before taking your hand and proceeding to enter the mall.

The two of you headed to the restaurant where you were supposed to have your date.

“Reservation for Weasley.” Your boyfriend said to the waiter.

The waiter smiled, “This way Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.” Then led the two of you to your table.

Both of you took your seat and ordered your food when Fred suddenly said,

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley huh? I kinda like the sound of that.”

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” You asked in between giggles.

Fred tried for an innocent look, “Did what on purpose?”

“Put the reservation under the name: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.”

He gave a dramatic gasp, “How could you accuse me of such a deed!”

You raised a brow at him, trying to hold back your laughter.

“Fine. You caught me. I just thought that it would be cute.”

This caused you to smile as you reached out and grabbed his hand from across the table,

“It is cute. But, someday, you won’t have to fake it.”

The two of you decided to walk around the mall for a bit before heading home.

You made a quick run to the bathroom, when you came back, you saw Fred looking at the window of one of the shops.

Sneaking up behind him, you saw that he was looking at a leather jacket.

“Why don’t you get it? It’ll look amazing on you.” You said.

He gave a reluctant smile, “Maybe next time.”

Neither of you brought up the leather jacket when he dropped you off at your house.

An idea popped into your head and once you had made sure that Fred made it home safely, you hailed a cab.

Fred had just woken up from his nap when he saw your parents and his parents gathered around the kitchen table, worried looks visible.

Your parents had told him that you had been missing for hours and since he was the last person you were with - he might have an idea on your whereabouts.

He shook his head, “She didn’t mention anything to me.”

He tried calling your cell multiple times but only got as far as your voicemail.

It was 11 pm when your parents decided to wait for you at home.

For the next hour, Fred kept on pacing in his room, cursing himself for letting this happen to you.

He was so distracted that he didn’t hear the creak of his window opening as you climbed in.

Your boyfriend pulled you into a hug the minute he saw you, “It’s midnight, where the hell were you?”

“I’m sorry.” You said, “There was an hour before midnight sale and that was the only time I could afford it.”

“Afford what?” He asked.

You sheepishly smiled as you handed him the paper bag, all he needed was one glance to realize that it was the leather jacket.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting @benny-boukendan @famdomhideout @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff @pandaxnienke @daedreamss @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @lunylovelovegood @thefallengodesse @cupids-crystals @madelineorionswan (Send a Message/Ask if you want to be added!)

[cursed-ice-queen]

Here she is! My HPHM OC Megan Parker! Profile template courtesy of @hogwartsmysterystory​.

          Identity

Name: Megan Sofía Parker

Gender: Female

Age: 15 (fifth year)

Birth Date: August 11th

Species: Human

Blood Status: Half-blood

Sexuality: Bi Disaster

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: Irish

Residence: Cork, Ireland

Myer Briggs Personality Type: ESFJ-A

          The Mage

Wand: 11″ Hornbeam with Dragon Heartstring core, scale-like pattern on the handle

Animagus: Copper-colored cat with white blotch on the nose

Misc Magical Abilities: Legilimens

Boggart Form: Jacob as a Death Eater with motifs of fire and suffocation

Riddikulus Form: Scooby Doo and Shaggy unmasking the Death Eater as Merula and McGonagall scolding her

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?) Cookie dough, ocean spray

Amortentia: (What do they smell?) Gingerbread

Patronus: Can’t cast one but if she could it would be a fur seal

Patronus Memory: Jacob singing her to sleep after waking up to a thunderstorm

Mirror of Erised: Her and Jacob when they were little with their parents (mother and grandmother) or with their parents but grown up, Jacob in his seventh year and Parker about to start her first

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Bluebell Flames for light and navigation

          Appearance

Game Appearance:

Height: 5′6″

Weight: 135 lbs

Physique: “Apple” body type, strong legs, flat chest

Eye Colour: Green

Hair Colour: Copper red

Skin Tone: Pale

Inventory: (what do they carry on them?)

The key to Jacob’s room on a chain under her shirt

A family heirloom locket from her grandmother on the same chain, unfolds into four photos

Binder of organized notes of spells that Jacob typed up on his computer

Fashion: Tends to wear headbands; short-sleeved shirt with her uniform

          Allegiances

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Ilvermorny House: Wampus

Affiliations/Organizations: Her Ballroom dance team; Hogwarts dance team (6th year)

Professions: Robe-tailor

          Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: Acceptable

Charms: Outstanding

DADA: Exceeds Expectation

Flying: Dreadful

Herbology: Outstanding

History of Magic: Exceeds Expectation

Potions: Exceeds Expectation

Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectation

Electives:

Arithmancy: Acceptable

Care of Magical Creatures: Exceeds Expectation

Favourite Professors: Sprout, Flitwick, Rakepick, Rowan

Least Favourite Professors: Snape, Binns

          Relationships

Brother: Jacob Lovino Parker, very close, his disappearance hurt her deeply

Mother: “Momma” Alice Parker

Grandmother: “Nonna” Sofía Vitale

Love Interest: Jae, Diego, Talbott, Penny

Best Friends: Rowan, Penny, Jae

Enemy: Merula, Ismelda

Dormmates: (Who’s in your MC’s dorm with them?) Rowan, Penny, Chiara, Tonks

Closest Canon Friends: Rowan, Penny

          Background/History

Pre Hogwarts: Born very premature but survives against the odds; grows up living with Momma, Nonna, and Jacob; very close to her brother; Jacob teaches her the magic he learns at Hogwarts and foolishly gives her his wand to try Lumos only for her to accidentally light her stuffed bear on fire, he gives her a wooden kitchen spoon after that; Jacob disappeared when she was 8

1st Year: Bullied by Merula; befriends Rowan and Penny; dreams of cursed ice spreading around school; discovers cursed ice in icy office and finds coded message

2nd Year: Finds first notes from R for Ben; joins “Ghostly Book Club” with Penny and Chiara where they read books to lonely ghosts (Parker unknowingly reads to Duncan); finds Jacob’s binders and lists of spells and makes one for herself; opens Vault of Ice

3rd Year: Finds Jacob’s room in the burned corridor; discovers her Boggart; receives note from “A Friend”; becomes an Animagus; opens Vault of Fear; meets Rakepick for the first time

4th Year: Rakepick teaches her advanced spells; Nonna gives her locket heirloom; Celestial Ball; sleepwalks into Forbidden Forest with Jae and meets Torvus, has to temporarily five Torvus her heirloom to ensure a promise, she gets it back when she returns the jeweled arrowhead to him; opens Forest Vault; goes on first date with Talbott; Rakepick begins teaching her how to cast a Patronus

5th Year: Parker is made Prefect despite having detention in the Kitchens all year long; learns that Duncan is dead and meets him in the Prefects’ Bathroom; Rakepick reveals that Parker is a Legilimens; Patronus lessons continue; Parker must perform “Mayhem Masterpiece” to get Vault portrait from Peeves; opens Portrait Vault and saves Jacob; Jacob and Rakepick promptly disappear again after being run out of the castle by Aurors

6th Year: Not sure yet

7th Year: Not sure yet

2nd Wizarding War: Living in States with Jacob where the war never reaches

          Personality

Shy and cries easily when she is young, grows more and more outgoing and flirty as she grows older. Her confidence comes from people praising her as the Heroine of Hogwarts for breaking the curses

Loves mermaids and will talk your ear off about them like Charlie with dragons

She and Rowan are BFFs and are practically glued at the hip, especially in their earlier years

Admires Penny so much that in second and third year she braids her hair to be like Penny

          Misc

Hailed as the “Ice Queen” throughout her Hogwarts years due to stopping the cursed ice; a title she wears with pride

Has a stuffed cheetah toy that used to belong to Jacob

Pokémon team: Primarina, Tsareena, Loppuny, Illumise, Eevee, Dragonair

Christmas is her favorite holiday because it meant Jacob coming home and being able to spend time with her. They would decorate cookies, decorate the tree, and ice skate together

Purple is her favorite color, she also likes “sea-like” color pallets

Has purple braces

Really bad acne spread across her cheeks and forehead, also on her nose so it looks like a capital “I”

[blindrapture]

Under the Read More, I will put a single-sentence question, followed by its answer. This is from Finnegans Wake. For the record, the question is asking “who was the person who matched this description.”

What secondtonone myther rector and maximost bridgesmaker was the first to rise taller through his beanstale than the bluegum buaboababbaun or the giganteous Wellingtonia Sequoia; went nudiboots with trouters into a liffeyette when she was barely in her tricklies; was well known to claud a conciliation cap onto the esker of his hooth; sports a chainganger’s albert solemenly over his hullender’s epulence; thought he weighed a new ton when there felled his first lapapple; gave the heinousness of choice to everyknight betwixt yesterdicks and twomaries; had sevenal successivecoloured serebanmaids on the same big white drawringroam horthrug; is a Willbeforce to this hour at house as he was in heather; pumped the catholick wartrey and shocked the prodestung boyne; killed his own hungery self in anger as a young man; found fodder for five when allmarken rose goflooded; with Hirish tutores Cornish made easy; voucher of rotables, toll of the road; bred manyheaded stepsons for one leapyourown taughter; is too funny for a fish and has too much outside for an insect; like a heptagon crystal emprisoms trues and fauss for us; is infinite swell in unfitting induments; once was he shovelled and once was he arsoned and once was he inundered and she hung him out billbailey; has a quadrant in his tile to tell Toler cad a’clog it is; offers chances to Long on but stands up to Legge before; found coal at the end of his harrow and mossroses behind the seams; made a fort out of his postern and wrote F.E.R.T. on his buckler; is escapemaster-in-chief from all sorts of houdingplaces; if he outharrods against barkers, to the shoolbred he acts whiteley; was evacuated at the mere appearance of three germhuns and twice besieged by a sweep; from zoomorphology to omnianimalism he is brooched by the spin of a coin; towers, an eddistoon amid the lampless, casting swannbeams on the deep; threatens thunder upon malefactors and sends whispers up fraufrau’s froufrous; when Dook Hookbackcrook upsits his ass booseworthies jeer and junket but they boos him oos and baas his aas when he lukes like Hunkett Plunkett; by sosannsos and search a party on a lady of this city; business, reading newspaper, smoking cigar, arranging tumblers on table, eating meals, pleasure, etcetera, etcetera, pleasure, eating meals, arranging tum-blers on table, smoking cigar, reading newspaper, business; minerals, wash and brush up, local views, juju toffee, comic and birthdays cards; those were the days and he was their hero; pink sunset shower, red clay cloud, sorrow of Sahara, oxhide on Iren; arraigned and attainted, listed and lited, pleaded and proved; catches his check at banck of Indgangd and endurses his doom at chapel exit; brain of the franks, hand of the christian, tongue of the north; commands to dinner and calls the bluff; has a block at Morgen’s and a hatache all the afternunch; plays gehamerat when he’s ernst but misses mausey when he’s lustyg; walked as far as the Head where he sat in state as the Rump; shows Early English tracemarks and a marigold window with manigilt lights, a myrioscope, two remarkable piscines and three wellworthseeing ambries; arches all portcullised and his nave dates from dots; is a horologe unstoppable and the Benn of all bells; fuit, isst and herit and though he’s mildewstaned he’s mouldystoned; is a quercuss in the forest but plane member for Megalopolis; mountunmighty, faunonfleetfoot; plank in our platform, blank in our scouturn; hidal, in carucates he is enumerated, hold as an earl, he counts; shipshaped phrase of buglooking words with a form like the easing moments of a graminivorous; to our dooms brought he law, our manoirs he made his vill of; was an overgrind to the underground and acqueduced for fierythroats; sends boys in socks acoughawhooping when he lets farth his carbonoxside and silk stockings show her shapings when he looses hose on hers; stocks dry puder for the Ill people and pinkun’s pellets for all the Pale; gave his mundyfoot to Miserius, her pinch to Anna Livia, that superfine pigtail to Cerisia Cerosia and quid rides to Titius, Caius and Sempronius; made the man who had no notion of shopkeepers feel he’d rather play the duke than play the gentleman; shot two queans and shook three caskles when he won his game of dwarfs; fumes inwards like a strombolist till he smokes at both ends; manmote, befier of him, womankind, pietad!; shows one white drift of snow among the gorsegrowth of his crown and a chaperon of repentance on that which shed gore; pause and quies, triple bill; went by metro for the polis and then hoved by; to the finders, hail! woa, you that seek!; whom fillth had plenished, dearth devoured; hock is leading, cocoa comes next, emery tries for the flag; can dance the O’Bruin’s polerpasse at Noolahn to his own orchistruss accompaniment; took place before the internatural convention of catholic midwives and found stead before the congress for the study of endonational calamities; makes a delictuous entrée and finishes off the course between sweets and savouries; flouts for forecasts, flairs for finds and the fun of the fray on the fairground; cleared out three hundred sixty five idles to set up one all khalassal for henwives hoping to have males; the flawhoolagh, the grasping one, the kindler of paschal fire; forbids us our trespassers as we forgate him; the phoenix be his pyre, the cineres his sire!; piles big pelium on little ossas like the pilluls of hirculeads; has an eatupus complex and a drinkthedregs kink; wurstmeats for chumps and cowcarlows for scullions; when he plies for our favour is very trolly ours; two psychic espousals and three desertions; may be matter of fact now but was futter of magd then; Cattermole Hill, exmountain of flesh was reared up by stress and sank under strain; tank it up, dank it up, tells the tailor to his tout; entoutcas for a man, but bit a thimble for a maid; blimp, blump; a dud letter, a sing a song a sylble; a byword, a sentence with surcease; while stands his canyouseehim frails shall fall; was hatched at Cellbridge but ejoculated abrood; as it gan in the biguinnengs so wound up in a battle of Boss; Roderick, Roderick, Roderick, O, you’ve gone the way of the Danes; variously catalogued, regularly regrouped; a bushboys holoday, a quacker’s mating, a wenches’ sandbath; the same homoheatherous checkinlossegg as when sollyeye airly blew ye; real detonation but false report; spa mad but inn sane; half emillian via bogus census but a no street hausmann when allphannd; is the handiest of all andies and a most alleghant spot to dump your hump; hands his secession to the new patricius but plumps plebmatically for the bloody old centuries; eats with doors open and ruts with gates closed; some dub him Rotshield and more limn him Rockyfellow; shows he’s fly to both demisfairs but thries to cover up his tracers; seven dovecotes cooclaim to have been pigeonheim to this homer, Smerrnion, Rhoebok, Kolonsreagh, Seapoint, Quayhowth, Ashtown, Ratheny; independent of the lordship of chamberlain, acknowledging the rule of Rome; we saw thy farm at Useful Prine, Domhnall, Domhnall; reeks like Illbelpaese and looks like Iceland’s ear; lodged at quot places, lived through tot reigns; takes a szumbath for his weekend and a wassarnap for his refreskment; after a good bout at stoolball enjoys Giroflee Giroflaa; what Nevermore missed and Colombo found; believes in everyman his own goaldkeeper and in Africa for the fullblacks; the arc of his drive was forty full and his stumps were pulled at eighty; boasts him to the thick-in-thews the oldest creater in Aryania and looks down on the Suiss family Collesons whom he calls les nouvelles roches; though his heart, soul and spirit turn to pharaoph times, his love, faith and hope stick to futuerism; light leglifters cense him souriantes from afore while boor browbenders curse him grommelants to his hindmost; between youlasses and yeladst glimse of Even; the Lug his peak has, the Luk his pile; drinks tharr and wodhar for his asama and eats the unparishable sow to styve off reglar rack; the beggars cloak them reclined about his paddystool, the whores winken him as they walk their side; on Christienmas at Advent Lodge, New Yealand, after a lenty illness the roeverand Mr Easterling of pentecostitis, no followers by bequest, fanfare all private; Gone Where Glory Waits Him (Ball, bulletist) but Not Here Yet (Maxwell, clark); comminxed under articles but phoenished a borgiess; from the vat on the bier through the burre in the dark to the buttle of the bawn; is A1 an the highest but Roh re his root; filled fanned of hackleberries whenas all was tuck and toss up for him as a yangster to fall fou of hockinbechers wherein he had gauged the use of raisin; ads aliments, das doles, raps rustics, tams turmoil; sas seed enough for a semination but sues skivvies on the sly; learned to speak from hand to mouth till he could talk earish with his eyes shut; hacked his way through hickheckhocks but hanged hishelp from there hereafters; rialtos, annesleyg, binn and balls to say nothing atolk of New Comyn; the gleam of the glow of the shine of the sun through the dearth of the dirth on the blush of the brick of the viled ville of Barnehulme has dust turned to brown; these dyed to tartan him, rueroot, dulse, bracken, teasel, fuller’s ash, sundew and cress; long gunn but not for cotton; stood his sharp assault of famine but grew girther, girther and girther; he has twenty four or so cousins germinating in the United States of America and a namesake with an initial difference in the once kingdom of Poland; his first’s a young rose and his second’s French-Egyptian and his whole means a slump at Christie’s; forth of his pierced part came the woman of his dreams, blood thicker then water last trade overseas; buyshop of Glintylook, eorl of Hoed; you and I are in him surrented by brwn bldns; Elin’s flee polt pelhaps but Hwang Chang evelytime; he one was your of highbigpipey boys but fancy him as smoking fags his at time of life; Mount of Mish, Mell of Moy; had two cardinal ventures and three capitol sinks; has a peep in his pocketbook and a packetboat in his keep; B.V.H., B.L.G., P.P.M., T.D.S., V.B.D., T.C.H., L.O.N.; is Breakfates, Lunger, Diener and Souper; as the streets were paved with cold he felt his topperairy; taught himself skating and learned how to fall; distinctly dirty but rather a dear; hoveth chieftains evrywehr, with morder; Ostman Effendi, Serge Paddishaw; baases two mmany, outpriams al’ his parisites; first of the fenians, roi des fainéants; his Tiara of scones was held unfillable till one Liam Fail felled him in Westmunster; was struck out of his sittem when he rowed saulely to demask us and to our appauling predicament brought as plagues from Buddapest; put a matchhead on an aspenstalk and set the living a fire; speared the rod and spoiled the lightning; married with cakes and repunked with pleasure; till he was buried howhappy was he and he made the welkins ring with Up Micawber!; god at the top of the staircase, carrion on the mat of straw; the false hood of a spindler web chokes the cavemouth of his unsightliness but the nestlings that liven his leafscreen sing him a lover of arbuties; we strike hands over his bloodied warsheet but we are pledged entirely to his green mantle; our friend vikelegal, our swaran foi; under the four stones by his streams who vanished the wassailbowl at the joy of shells; Mora and Lora had a hill of a high time looking down on his confusion till firm look in readiness, forward spear and the windfoot of curach strewed the lakemist of Lego over the last of his fields; we darkened for you, faulterer, in the year of mourning but we’ll fidhil to the dimtwinklers when the streamy morvenlight calls up the sunbeam; his striped pantaloons, his rather strange walk; hereditatis columna erecta, hagion chiton eraphon; nods a nap for the nonce but crows cheerio when they get ecunemical; is a simultaneous equator of elimbinated integras when three upon one is by inspection improper; has the most conical hodpiece of confusianist heronim and that chuchuffuous chinchin of his is like a footsey kungoloo around Taishantyland; he’s as globeful as a gasometer of lithium and luridity and he was thrice ten anular years before he wallowed round Raggiant Circos; the cabalstone at the coping of his cavin is a canine constant but only an amirican could apparoxemete the apeupresiosity of his atlast’s alongement; sticklered rights and lefts at Baddersdown in his hunt for the boar trwth but made his end with the modareds that came at him in Camlenstrete; a hunnibal in exhaustive conflict, an otho to return; burning body to aiger air on melting mountain in wooing wave; we go into him sleepy children, we come out of him strucklers for life; he divested to save from the Mrs Drownings their rival queens while Grimshaw, Bragshaw and Renshaw made off with his storen clothes; taxed and rated, licensed and ranted; his threefaced stonehead was found on a whitehorse hill and the print of his costellous feet is seen in the goat’s grasscircle; pull the blind, toll the deaf and call dumb, lame and halty; Miraculone, Monstrucceleen; led the upplaws at the Creation and hissed a snake charmer off her stays; hounded become haunter, hunter become fox; harrier, marrier, terrier, tav; Olaph the Oxman, Thorker the Tourable; you feel he is Vespasian yet you think of him as Aurelius; whugamore, tradertory, socianist, commoniser; made a summer assault on our shores and begiddy got his sands full; first he shot down Raglan Road and then he tore up Marlborough Place; Cromlechheight and Crommalhill were his farfamed feetrests when our lurch as lout let free into the Lubar heloved; mareschalled his wardmotes and delimited the main; netted before nibbling, can scarce turn a scale but, grossed after meals, weighs a town in himself; Banba prayed for his conversion, Beurla missed that grand old voice; a Colossus among cabbages, the Melarancitrone of fruits; larger than life, doughtier than death; Gran Turco, orege forment; lachsembulger, leperlean; the sparkle of his genial fancy, the depth of his calm sagacity, the clearness of his spotless honour, the flow of his boundless benevolence; our family furbear, our tribal tarnpike; quary was he invincibled and cur was he burked; partitioned Irskaholm, united Irishmen; he took a svig at his own methyr but she tested a bit gorky and as for the salmon he was coming up in him all life long; comm, eilerdich hecklebury and sawyer thee, warden; silent as the bee in honey, stark as the breath on hauwck, Costello, Kinsella, Mahony, Moran, though you rope Amrique your home ruler is Dan; figure right, he is hoisted by the scurve of his shaggy neck, figure left, he is rationed in isobaric patties among the crew; one asks was he poisoned, one thinks how much did he leave; ex-gardener (Riesengebirger), fitted up with planturous existencies would make Roseoogreedy (mite’s) little hose; taut sheets and scuppers awash but the oil silk mack Liebsterpet micks his aquascutum; the enjoyment he took in kay women, the employment he gave to gee men; sponsor to a squad of piercers, ally to a host of rawlies; against lightning, explosion, fire, earthquake, flood, whirlwind, burglary, third party, rot, loss of cash, loss of credit, impact of vehicles; can rant as grave as oxtail soup and chat as gay as a porto flippant; is unhesitent in his unionism and yet a pigotted nationalist; Sylviacola is shy of him, Matrosenhosens nose the joke; shows the sinews of peace in his chest-o-wars; fiefeofhome, ninehundred and thirtunine years of copyhold; is aldays open for polemypolity’s sake when he’s not suntimes closed for the love of Janus; sucks life’s eleaxir from the pettipickles of the Jewess and ruoulls in sulks if any popeling runs down the Huguenots; Boomaport, Walleslee, Ubermeerschall Blowcher and Supercharger, Monsieur Ducrow, Mister Mudson, master gardiner; to one he’s just paunch and judex, to another full of beans and brehons; hallucination, cauchman, ectoplasm; passed for baabaa blacksheep till he grew white woo woo woolly; was drummatoysed by Mac Milligan’s daughter and put to music by one shoebard; all fitzpatricks in his emirate remember him, the boys of wetford hail him babu; indanified himself with boro tribute and was schenkt publicly to brigstoll; was given the light in drey orchafts and entumuled in threeplexes; his likeness is in Terrecuite and he giveth rest to the rainbowed; lebriety, frothearnity and quality; his reverse makes a virtue of necessity while his obverse mars a mother by invention; beskilk his gunwale and he’s the second imperial, untie points, unhook tenters and he’s lath and plaster; calls upon Allthing when he fails to appeal to Eachovos; basidens, ardree, kongsemma, rexregulorum; stood into Dee mouth, then backed broadside on Baulacleeva; either eldorado or ultimate thole; a kraal of fou feud fires, a crawl of five pubs; laid out lashings of laveries to hunt down his family ancestors and then pled double trouble or quick quits to hush the buckers up; threw pebblets for luck over one sodden shoulder and dragooned peoplades armed to their teeth; pept as Gaudio Gambrinus, grim as Potter the Grave; ace of arts, deuce of damimonds, trouble of clubs, fear of spates; cumbrum, cumbrum, twiniceynurseys fore a drum but tre to uno tips the scale; reeled the titleroll opposite a brace of girdles in Silver on the Screen but was sequenced from the set as Crookback by the even more titulars, Rick, Dave and Barry; he can get on as early as the twentysecond of Mars but occasionally he doesn’t come offbefore Virgintiquinque Germinal; his Indian name is Hapapoosiesobjibway and his number in arithmosophy is the stars of the plough; took weapon in the province of the pike and let fling his line on Eelwick; moves in vicous cicles yet remews the same; the drain rats bless his offals while the park birds curse his floodlights; Portobello, Equadocta, Therecocta, Percorello; he pours into the softclad shellborn the hard cash earned in Watling Street; his birth proved accidental shows his death its grave mistake; brought us giant ivy from the land of younkers and bewitthered Apostolopolos with the gale of his gall; while satisfied that soft youthful bright matchless girls should bosom into fine silkclad joyous blooming young women is not so pleased that heavy swearsome strongsmelling irregularshaped men should blottout active handsome wellformed frankeyed boys; herald hairyfair, alloaf the wheat; husband your aunt and endow your nepos; hearken but hush it, screen him and see; time is, an archbishopric, time was, a tradesmen’s entrance; beckburn brooked with wath, scale scarred by scow; his rainfall is a couple of kneehighs while his meanst grass temperature marked three in the shade; is the meltingpoint of snow and the bubblingplace of alcohol; has a tussle with the trulls and then does himself justice; hinted at in the eschatological chapters of Humphrey’s Justesse of the Jaypees and hunted for by Theban recensors who sniff there’s something behind the Bug of the Deaf; the king was in his cornerwall melking mark so murry, the queen was steep in armbour feeling fain and furry, the mayds was midst the hawthorns shoeing up their hose, out pimps the back guards (pomp!) and pump gun they goes; to all his foretellers he reared a stone and for all his comethers he planted a tree; forty acres, sixty miles, white stripe, red stripe, washes his fleet in annacrwatter; whou missed a porter so whot shall he do for he wanted to sit for Pimploco but they’ve caught him to stand for Sue?; Dutchlord, Dutchlord, overawes us; Headmound, king and martyr, dunstung in the Yeast, Pitre-le-Pore-in Petrin, Barth-the-Grete-by-the-Exchange; he hestens towards dames troth and wedding hand like the prince of Orange and Nassau while he has trinity left behind him like Bowlbeggar Bill-the-Bustonly; brow of a hazelwood, pool in the dark; changes blowicks into bullocks and a well of Artesia into a bird of Arabia; the handwriting on his facewall, the cryptoconchoidsiphonostomata in his exprussians; his birthspot lies beyond the herospont and his burialplot in the pleasant little field; is the yldist kiosk on the pleninsula and the unguest hostel in Saint Scholarland; walked many hundreds and many score miles of streets and lit thousands in one nightlights in hectares of windows; his great wide cloak lies on fifteen acres and his little white horse decks by dozens our doors; O sorrow the sail and woe the rudder that were set for Mairie Quai!; his suns the huns, his dartars the tartars, are plenty here today; who repulsed from his burst the bombolts of Ostenton and falchioned each flash downsaduck in the deep; apersonal problem, a locative enigma; upright one, vehicule of arcanisation in the field, lying chap, floodsupplier of celiculation through ebblanes; a part of the whole as a port for a whale; Dear Hewitt Castello, Equerry, were daylighted with our outing and are looking backwards to unearly summers, from Rhoda Dundrums; is above the seedfruit level and outside the leguminiferous zone; when older links lock older hearts then he’ll resemble she; can be built with glue and clippings, scrawled or voided on a buttress; the night express sings his story, the song of sparrownotes on his stave of wires; he crawls with lice, he swarms with saggarts; is as quiet as a mursque but can be as noisy as a sonogog; was Dilmun when his date was palmy and Mudlin when his nut was cracked; suck up the sease, lep laud at ease, one lip on his lap and one cushlin his crease; his porter has a mighty grasp and his baxters the boon of broadwhite; as far as wind dries and rain eats and sun turns and water bounds he is exalted and depressed, assembled and asundered; go away, we are deluded, come back, we are disghosted; bored the Ostrov, leapt the Inferus, swam the Mabbul and flure the Moyle; like fat, like fatlike tallow, of greasefulness, yea of dripping greasefulness; did not say to the old, old, did not say to the scorbutic, scorbutic; he has founded a house, Uru, a house he has founded to which he has assigned its fate; bears a raaven geulant on a fjeld duiv; ruz the halo offhis varlet when he appeared to his shecook as Haycock, Emmet, Boaro, Toaro, Osterich, Mangy and Skunk; pressed the beer of aled age out of the nettles of rashness; put a roof on the lodge for Hymn and a coq in his pot pro homo; was dapifer then pancircensor then hortifex magnus; the topes that tippled on him, the types that toppled off him; still starts our hares yet gates our goat; pocketbook packetboat, gapman gunrun; the light of other days, dire dreary darkness; our awful dad, Timour of Tortur; puzzling, startling, shocking, nay, perturbing; went puffing from king’s brugh to new customs, doffing the gibbous off him to every breach of all size; with Pa’s new heft and Papa’s new helve he’s Papapa’s old cutlass Papapapa left us; when youngheaded oldshouldered and middlishneck aged about; caller herring everydaily, turgid tarpon overnight; see Loryon the comaleon that changed endocrine history by loeven his loaf with forty bannucks; she drove him dafe till he driv her blind up; the pigeons doves be perchin all over him one day on Baslesbridge and the ravens duv be pitchin their dark nets after him the next night behind Koenigstein’s Arbour; tronf of the rep, comf of the priv, prosp of the pub; his headwood it’s ideal if his feet are bally clay; he crashed in the hollow of the park, trees down, as he soared in the vaguum of the phoenix, stones up; looks like a moultain boultter and sounds like a rude word; the mountain view, some lumin pale round a lamp of succar in boinyn water; three shots a puddy at up blup saddle; made up to Miss MacCormack Ni Lacarthy who made off with Darly Dermod, swank and swarthy; once diamond cut garnet now dammat cuts groany; you might find him at the Florence but watch our for him in Wynn’s Hotel; theer’s his bow and wheer’s his leaker and heer lays his bequiet hearse, deep; Swed Albiony, likeliest villain of the place; Hennery Canterel—Cockran, eggotisters, limitated; we take our tays and frees our fleas round sadurn’s mounted foot; built the Lund’s kirk and destroyed the church’s land; who guesse his title grabs his deeds; fletch and prities, fash and chaps; artful Juke of Wilysly; Hugglebelly’s Funniral; Kukkuk Kallikak; heard in camera and excruciated; boon when with benches billeted, bann if buckshotbackshattered; heavengendered, chaosfoedted, earthborn; his father presumptively ploughed it deep on overtime and his mother as all evince must have travailled her fair share; a footprinse on the Megacene, hetman unwhorsed by Searingsand; honorary captain of the extemporised fire brigade, reported to be friendly with the police; the door is still open; the old stock collar is coming back; not forgetting the time you laughed at Elder Charterhouse’s duckwhite pants and the way you said the whole township can see his hairy legs; by stealth of a kersse her aulburntress abaft his nape she hung; when his kettle became a hearthsculdus our thorstyites set their lymphyamphyre; his yearletter concocted by masterhands of assays, his hallmark imposed by the standard of wrought plate; a pair of pectorals and a triplescreen to get a wind up; lights his pipe with a rosin tree and hires a towhorse to haul his shoes; cures slavey’s scurvy, breaks barons boils; called to sell polosh and was found later in a bedroom; has his seat of justice, his house of mercy, his com o’copious and his stacks a’rye; prospector, he had a rooksacht, retrospector, he holds the holpenstake; won the freedom of new yoke for the minds of jugoslaves; acts active, peddles in passivism and is a gorgon of selfridgeousness; pours a laughsworth of his illformation over a larmsworth of salt; half heard the single maiden speech La Belle spun to her Grand Mount and wholed a lifetime by his ain fireside, wondering was it hebrew set to himmeltones or the quicksilversong of qwaternions; his troubles may be over but his doubles have still to come; the lobster pot that crabbed our keel, the garden pet that spoiled our squeezed peas; he stands in a lovely park, sea is not far, importunate towns of X, Y and Z are easily over reached; is an excrescence to civilised humanity and but a wart on Europe; wanamade singsigns to soundsense an yit he wanna git all his flesch nuemaid motts truly prural and plusible; has excisively large rings and is uncustomarily perfumed; lusteth ath he listeth the cleah whithpeh of a themise; is a prince of the fingallian in a hiberniad of hoolies; has a hodge to wherry him and a frenchy to curry him and a brabanson for his beeter and a fritz at his switch; was waylaid of a parker and beschotten by a buckeley; kicks lintils when he’s cuppy and casts Jacob’s arroroots, dime after dime, to poor waifstrays on the perish; reads the charms of H. C. Endersen all the weaks of his evenin and the crimes of Ivaun the Taurrible every strongday morn; soaps you soft to your face and slaps himself when he’s badend; owns the bulgiest bungbarrel that ever was tiptapped in the privace of the Mullingar Inn; was bom with a nuasilver tongue in his mouth and went round the coast of Iron with his lift hand to the scene; raised but two fingers and yet smelt it would day; for whom it is easier to found a see in Ebblannah than for I or you to find a dubbeltye in Dampsterdamp; to live with whom is a lifemayor and to know whom a liberal education; was dipped in Hoily Olives and chrysmed in Scent Otooles; hears cricket on the earth but annoys the life out of predikants; still turns the durc’s ear of Darius to the now thoroughly infurioted one of God; made Man with juts that jerk and minted money mong maney; likes a six acup pudding when he’s come whome sweetwhome; has come through all the eras of livsadventure from moonshine and shampaying down to clouts and pottled porter; woollem the farsed, hahnreich the althe, charge the sackend, writchad the thord; if a mandrake shricked to convultures at last surviving his birth the weibduck will wail bitternly over the rotter’s resurrection; loses weight in the moon night but gird girder by the sundawn; with one touch of nature set a veiled world agrin and went within a sheet of tissuepaper of the option of three gaols; who could see at one blick a saumon taken with a lance, hunters pursuing a doe, a swallowship in full sail, a whyterobe lifting a host; faced flappery like old King Cnut and turned his back like Cincinnatus; is a farfar and morefar and a hoar father Nakedbucker in villas old as new; squats aquart and cracks aquaint when it’s flaggin in town and on haven; blows whiskery around his summit but stehts stout upon his footles; stutters fore he falls and goes mad entirely when he’s waked; is Timb to the pearly mom and Tomb to the mourning night; and an he had the best bunbaked bricks in bould Babylon for his pitching plays he’d be lost for the want of his wan wubblin wall?

Answer: Finn MacCool!

[missjosie27]

Character Profile: David Grant

Decided to update formally David’s info. Thank you @hogwartsmysterystory for the template. Actual pic of MC to follow!

HPHM Profile

Age 17

Identity

Name: David John Grant

Gender: Male

Age: 11-17 throughout the series

Birth Date: January 16th, 1973

Species: Human

Blood Status: Pure-Blood

Sexuality: Straight

Alignment: Neutral Good

Ethnicity: Caucasian (white)

Nationality: British

Residence: Bath, England (U.K.)

Myer Briggs Personality Type: ESFP

  The Mage

1st Wand: Blackthorn, 10 inches, unicorn hair

2nd Wand: Ebony, 11 ¾ inches, dragon heartstring

Animagus: N/A

Misc Magical Abilities: Legilimens, Occlumens, Expert Dueler, Master of Transfiguration

Boggart Form: Voldemort standing over the dead body of his brother

Riddikulus Form: Overweight Voldemort slipping on a banana peel and falling on his ass

Amortentia: Fresh laundry, morning dew, citrus shampoo

Amortentia: nail polish, cloves, a British garden, something elusive (aka Merula)

Patronus: A Grizzly Bear (will sometimes appear as a blackbird when alongside his wife)

Patronus Memory: A memory of Jacob expressing brotherly love and will always be there for him

Mirror of Erised: His family whole and happy again, later on this includes Merula by his side holding his hand

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Reducto, Melofors Jinx (pumpkin head), Protegus Maximus (will stop most dark curses except the Unforgivables),

  Appearance

Faceclaim: young Tom Delonge from blink-182

Height: 6’1

Weight: 170 pounds

Physique: lean

Eye Colour: hazel-blue

Hair Colour: dark brown

Skin Tone: fair

Body Modifications: none

Scarring: plenty when he’s an auror but none while at Hogwarts

Inventory: wand, guitar pick, picture of Merula, holster, pack of gum, and a watch

  Allegiances 

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Ilvermorny House: Wampus

Affiliations/Organizations: Hogwarts Alumni, Auror Office, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Official Guns N’ Roses fan club, ally of the Order of the Phoenix, The British Commonwealth

Professions: Auror, vigilante

  Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

·        Astronomy: 4/10 (P)

·        Charms: 5/10 (A)

·        DADA: 9/10 (O)

·        Flying: 7/10 (E)

·        Herbology: 8/10 (E)

·        History of Magic: 3/10 (D)

·        Potions: 7/10 (E)

·        Transfiguration: 10/10 (O)

Electives: Care of Magical Creatures (later switches to Divination), Ancient Runes

Quidditch: Plays beater during years 6 and 7 at the behest of Charlie Weasley

Extra Curricular: Gryffindor Quidditch Team , Weird Sisters Fan Club, Dueling Club

Favorite Professors: Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Bill Weasley (temporary fill in)

Least Favorite Professors: Professor Binns

  Relationships

Brother: Jacob Elias Grant

-Three years older than David (b. late 1969)

-Fair complexion

-medium brown hair

-Blue eyes

-Also a legilimens

-5’9 in height

-Jacob Grant is a brave, bold, but extraordinarily reckless wizard who let his obsession with finding the cursed vaults cost him his education and family. As a youth, he was fun loving and often played with his young brother three years, teaching him many things. His disappearance was felt severely by the Grant family, especially after it was rumored Jacob went mad and joined Voldemort. This latter accusation proved to be untrue, but when he is released from the portrait vault, he is severely changed by the experience and slightly unhinged, dead set in seeking revenge on Rakepick and R.

 Father: John Grant

-b. 1945 at the end of WW2

-sons inherited his very dark brown hair

-slightly ruddy faced

-hazel eyes

-six feet tall, well built

-works in the Department of Magical Cooperation, one of the envoys to the United States

-John Grant is a competent, reasonable wizard of fair judgement and sound mind. One of the reasons he was chosen to become an envoy was due to his exceptional ability to reason with people and engage them in compromise or mutually beneficial deals. Relations with the United States have improved remarkably under his tenure after tensions during the first British Civil War. However, in the absence of his eldest son he has become somewhat withdrawn and tired, speaking very little on anything besides work or sports. Currently in a strained marriage, John knows his wife is slowly getting worse but he does not have the means to calm or assuage her, causing further stress on him.

 Mother: Elizabeth Grant (nee MacMillan)

-b. 1947

-blonde hair

-blue eyes (Jacob inherited this)

-considered one of the most attractive witches during her time at Hogwarts

-5’5 and thin

-runs her own tea shop in London

-Elizabeth Grant was once a good natured, enthusiastic, driven young witch who loved her sons and her family. Originally hailing from the Macmillan clan, her stable upbringing did not spoil her as it did with other wealthy families such as the Malfoys. She possesses a high energy and entrepreneurial spirit when at her best and combined with her natural maternal instincts made for a very fine tea shop which she runs in the heart of London, serving wizard and muggle alike. Losing Jacob, however, caused Elizabeth to turn for the worse. Blaming herself for the incident that led to him disappearing, she raised David in a far stricter environment, never allowing him twenty feet outside the house unless it was a family gathering. Over the years, she has become more high strung and controlling due to her fear, something that David comes to heavily resent and even despise as he grows into his teen years.

 Love Interest: Merula Snyde

-In the beginning to mention the name ‘David Grant’ around Merula would usually result in the nearest object being thrown at your head. As a complicated, angry child of locked up Death Eaters, she saw David as a target to try and torment, but when he wouldn’t back down or take her seriously, it only served to infuriate her more.

-From then on, Merula would always try to sabotage David’s efforts to find the vaults (or do anything to make his life difficult), seeking to find their power for herself. But time and again she was thwarted by him and his growing group of friends while she found herself increasingly alone. Her incessant need for attention yet unwillingness to treat anyone with kindness wore thin on the rest of her peers very quickly. For his part, David thought nothing of Merula, dismissing her as a power-hungry, petulant brat who he wanted as far away as possible.

-This didn’t change until year 4, when Merula first starts to make an effort to alter her previous ways, beginning to question what her parents had taught her.

-In a strange way, they begin to challenge each other. David assists her in learning the Patronus Charm while she helps him in facing off against an angry Centaur. When spooked and tricked by a mysterious hooded figure, Merula tells him not to give up his search and to keep going. The true turning point is when they go to the ball together, which is where the seed of true feelings starts to blossom. By the end of the semester both develop crushes on the other.

-The begin to informally, then formally date during Year 5. After the events of the portrait vault, Merula becomes withdrawn and angry once more and David, emotionally unstable himself, can’t handle it causing them to break up. However, after some serious soul searching, David is able to convince her to try again and this time they both make concerted efforts to be more communicative and supportive.

-By the end of Hogwarts, they are happily in love and end up marrying in 1996.

 Best Friends: Charlie Weasley, Penny Haywood

Rival: Merula Snyde (formerly), Ismelda Murk

Enemy: Patricia Rakepick, R, Death Eaters

Dormmates: Rowan Khanna, Ben Copper, Charlie Weasley, Jae Kim

Pets: None

Closest Canon Friends: Charlie Weasley, Penny Haywood, Rowan Khanna, Ben Copper, Tulip Karasu, Nymphadora Tonks, Barnaby Lee, Andre Egwu

Closest MC Friends: None yet but hoping to make some!

  Background/History

·        David lived a rather blissful existence in his first eight years of life. His parents were happily married, lived comfortably and he idolized his brother beyond measure. However, that changed dramatically after Jacob’s disappearance and unable to understand what had happened, David felt it was somehow his fault that he no longer saw his older brother. Unbeknownst to him, both his mother and father blamed themselves as well, causing a strain in their marriage and his next three years before Hogwarts to become bleak and uneventful.

·        Upon arrival at the famed school of witchcraft and wizardry, David developed a wisecracking, sarcastic, yet talented reputation as a wizard full of precociousness and intelligence. He saw Hogwarts as an opportunity to see something new and different. Though he had been warned not to try and find Jacob or resume his mission to find the vaults, David, through events outside of his control was slowly drawn into the search himself, the aching to see his brother too strong to ignore.

·        As more curses are broken and his reputation increases, David begrudgingly accepts his resident position of ‘curse-breaker’, something he sees as insignificant compared to finding his brother. However, as his curse breaking becomes more prominent, so do other aspects of his personality- his cockiness, vanity, wit, and his overall skill as a wizard. He joins the dueling club and quickly establishes himself as one of the best in the school.

·        Through it all, David also continues to harbor a guilt complex regarding his brother which turns to anger and frustration after he finds Jacob in the portrait vault only to witness just how unstable he is. This, along with numerous events in Year 6 lead David to reevaluate and later reinvent himself, defeating R and later helping his broken family to become whole again.

·        David becomes an Auror after graduation, being formally inducted in 1994 along with Tonks. He later marries Merula Snyde two years later. Though he does not join the Order, he is willing to look the other way and even assist Moody and Tonks in order to help their cause.

·        The second British Civil War is a tumultuous, traumatic period for David. Merula is kidnapped by her parents (recently released from Azkaban) and he has no idea where to find her. When the Ministry falls, David immediately resigns from his job and becomes an international vigilante/bounty hunter, scrapping a living off hits and capturing wanted witches and wizards. His travels take him to New York, Normandy, Berlin, and even Russia, but each target he seeks bears his mission in mind: to find his wife.

·        David locates Merula and manages to set her free during the Battle of Hogwarts. As it turned out, she was gang pressed into servicing Voldemort and though she is forced to do his bidding, secretly undermines the Death Eaters in small pivotal ways that ended up being crucial for the light side. As a favor to David and due to testimony from Lucius Malfoy, Merula is spared Azkaban by Minister Shacklebolt. Both of their internal wounds take time to heal, so they end up renewing their vows and resume building their life together.

·        By the year 2005, he and his wife are happily married once more and have three small children.

 Personality

·        David is a wisecracking, sarcastic, witty person who uses humor as a defense mechanism in his early days at Hogwarts but later takes on a life of its own. He is openly friendly and outgoing, enjoying the company of people he considers to be his friends, though he will turn serious when needed.

·        He is a bold person who has perfected the art of setting aside fear in favor of decisive, even spontaneous action as needed. He is not a glory seeker like some in his house, but he has no trouble showing bravery and even a defiance of the rules when deemed necessary.

·        David has a naturally caring side and is often a good listener when one of his friends has a problem that needs to be talked out or solved. He is slow to anger and though he gives little regard to subjects he hates, succeeds academically in his strong areas.

·        On the flip side, David has a vain, cocky streak, especially when it comes to his natural talents. Due to lack of warmth at home and from Merula, he can become quite lustful when it comes to girls.

·        David’s temper is a combination of his parents. It’s difficult to provoke him, but if one does, his anger locks him into steely-eyed, cold blooded rage that is not pleasant to witness.

·        Finally, David harbors a guilt complex and will gladly focus and deflect to something else when pressed about his personal problems. It is partially for this reason he is such a good listener to his friends, as it distracts him from inner feelings of shame, hurt, and anger.

  Misc (will be continually updated)

·        During Frog Choir auditions, Tulip encouraged him to sing a muggle rock song to impress Flitwick and it was ‘Every Rose Has Its Thorn’ by Poison. After the Weird Sisters cover it during the Celestial Ball, combined with Merula’s newfound love for muggle music, David becomes an enthusiastic lover of all things rock and roll. Tonks even lends him a few CDs to listen to in his spare time and he buys more than a few on his own time.

·        David and Merula become so enamored with rock music, one of their favorite pastimes is going to concerts together. His favorite band is Guns N’ Roses while hers is Motley Crue (Merula’s favorite song is ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’).

·        David is ticklish underneath the armpits and hates it when people do so.

·        Though not close, Talbot and David have a mutual understanding where they assist each other from time to time.

·        Jae once switched his pumpkin juice for one filled with belch powder and caused such a ruckus that Filch thought he had set off a dungbomb.

·        Believe it or not, Merula was not David’s first. That honor belongs to Tulip, who became his ‘friends with benefits’ buddy for a period of time.

·        Penny Haywood was technically his first crush and kissed her once, though the stars never aligned for them to date.

·        David is a good singer but Merula in his opinion, has the voice of an angel.

·        He is not bad on a broom and becomes much better at flying with his ascension to beater.

·        Fred and George Weasley can alternate between fun and a huge thorn in his side. There constant pranking and mischief gives him headaches, as he is supposed to be their prefect. They make up for it, however, by showing him secret passageways they find and tip him off to what they know. David never figures out how they seem to avoid trouble all the time.

·        He develops a fondness for a pint during his later Hogwarts years and Aberforth will sometimes comp him.

·        During year 5, Tonks and Tulip decide to throw a raging party before the OWLs which brings some….interesting results.

·        Saw his first concert- Aerosmith when he was 16 years old and caught a pick flung into the crowd by Joe Perry (he cheated by using a silent ‘accio’)

·        David is an avid Quidditch fan and loves rooting for the English national team during the World Cup.

·        During third year, David once helped the Weird Sisters put on a secret concert in the middle of the training grounds. However, some of the magical enhanced effects and fireworks got out of hand, resulting in the Professors finding out and punishment for the band.

·        Once blew the biggest bubble with droobles gum (Fred Weasley later popped it).

·        During his third year, David’s pants somehow caught fire from a Fire Crab, and ever since will not even so much as touch a magical creature. Merula also never fails to remind him about it.

·        Merula will wear a bow for David when the two are out on private dates together as she secretly likes them but hates the idea of anyone making fun of her for it.

[goonlalagoon]

The Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry || Leagues and Legends

A few months back I wrote a Leagues & Legends/Hogwarts AU as a birthday present for a friend who’s also a huge fan of the books, and figured I may as well post it here!

When Laney Jones goes under the sorting hat, her back is perfectly straight and her face is placid, relaxed. Her hands fold neatly in her lap, and none of the students and professors think she’s anything other than calm, maybe even disinterested. 

Internally, she quite seriously threatens the Hat with a fiery death if it spits out her secret. The threat alone would probably merit Gryffindor, but the Hat isn't easily swayed by mere stunts. When the rip along it's hem opens, it sends her to Slytherin.

(Such a thirst to prove yourself. You'll do well there)

She's practically a squib. She makes no attempts to claim otherwise, because if you say you're Merlin reborn everyone watches you, but when they think you're a step away from being a muggle they take the fact that you got some coloured sparks as a victory, even if you're supposed to be turning a matchstick into a needle. Pride is one thing, but Laney knows that sometimes you have to let people think poorly of you so they won't look too close. 

She excels in herbology, potions, and magical theory. She won't excel at History of Magic until her second year, because she is unequipped both for professor Binns and for the way all of the magical history she knew was geographically removed from everything they covered in class.

(Laney Jones isn't a squib; her mother is a squib, so that effectively makes Laney a muggle. Her brother is a wizard, though she hasn't seen him since she was eight. She scours the Prophet every morning, because she still thinks her big brother is the centre of the world)

Rupert Hammersfeld had already read every History of Magic text book on Hogwarts' seven year book list at least once by the time he was ten. He stays awake in Binns' classes making detailed notes anyway, but most of them are his own thoughts and recalled external sources. Rupert likes history; his mother is a curse breaker, and so he knows plenty of non euro-centric history from her, and his uncle made sure to teach him at least some of the history of the parts of India their ancestors hailed from as well. He writes out theoretical alternate lesson plans when he's done transcribing his years-old notes on the British goblin wars.

He's read a lot of textbooks over the years, curled up in the Hogwarts library in the holidays. He watched years worth of students pass through the halls before it was his turn, helping his uncle with the paperwork and quietly finding the homesick kids at weekends with his palms full of hot-chocolate and handkerchiefs tucked into his pockets. 

His uncle fretted, sometimes, that he couldn't give Rupert as much time as he deserved. The world outside thought he did, of course he did, the headmaster of Hogwarts having to raise a child, it was a wonder he had any time for the boy at all. They sniffed and murmured about how irresponsible, how unseemly, it was for that Elizabeth to have not only had a child out of wedlock but to have then left it with her respectable, long-suffering brother to raise while she ran wild. 

He was pure-blooded (that his father had magic at his fingertips was one of the few things Rupert knew, not because his mother gave two figs about blood status but because one of the few stories she shared of him included the elegance of his preserving spells), from a line that could trace itself back to the Founders, and he just wanted everything to be orderly, calm, and safe. He spends ten and a half minutes under the hat, discussing where he should go. The hat is quite adamant, but Rupert knows how people would talk and takes a while to convince.

(Usually, the hat accepts a direct request to go into a certain house - but this is from a self-imposed sense of obligation, and under it there’s a strong sense that the hat’s option would be really nice, actually, so it insists)

The Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins don't have any first year classes together; for historic reasons they tend to be paired with the Ravenclaws, which suits Rupert quite well. He's from a family of Gryffindors, but they can be a bit...much, sometimes. He’s all for chivalry and protecting those who need it, but from a lifetime in the castle he’s familiar with just how often the Gryffindor common room exists in a state of chaos.

He's aware of the black almost-squib in his year anyway, of course. He watched his fellow first years arrive on the boats, matching names to faces as they were called up to the front of the Great Hall, noted houses. And you could never escape the gossip - a castle full of teenagers lived on rumour and hearsay.

Rupert sneaks down to Hogsmede regularly, to meet up with Sez and Bart. He slips past Laney in the halls or out on the grounds, unseen, and he says nothing to anyone - not that there was a student out of bed, or about the mix of muggle tricks and magical practical jokes she was carefully practising with, night after night.

They don't meet properly until third year, when they chose between the optional subjects and classes became more widely mixed between the four houses. Laney takes Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies. She doesn't particularly like the sound of muggle studies, but she knows her own grades - the extra work is worth it, she figures, for that number of perfect grades to outweigh her abysmal practical demonstrations. Besides, she's eyeing the idea of a political career, and she figures it wouldn't hurt to be officially Able To Speak the Muggle Lingo.

Rupert signs up for all of the same subjects except for Muggle Studies as well, so their schedules rather abruptly align almost completely. It's several weeks into third year before Rupert (hesitantly) offers her the recipe to a colour changing powder he'd found in a market stall, one summer visiting his mother. Laney had been hiding dyes up her sleeves and hidden in bracelets for years, turning mice green when she was supposed to make them into a pin cushion. The Dozen Drop Dyes she’s been using are expensive, and require active enchantment to make. A powder is in several ways easier to hide, and it’s something she can make herself with the help of a few magical ingredients.

She drops her Magical Theory books down next to him in the library the next day because he'd been struggling with the underpinnings of Gamp's Exceptions (again. It just didn't make sense! What was different about food? He could conjure wooden furniture, but he couldn't conjure spices that were made from dried bark. It wasn't logical) and Laney was painfully aware of anything even close to a debt.

By the end of the year, she would be trading notes and explanations because it was easier to study together than alone. He would be occasionally transfiguring things in class for her, always partially and always incorrect, and talking her through the non-magical defences he'd learnt over the years of helping Sez and Bart track down dangers in the streets of Hogsmede and the edges of the Forest.

At the start of their fourth year, there are  two arrivals of particular note. One is a red-head who towers over the first years, and the other is short even by the standards of his cohort. Farris, Jack, goes into Gryffindor. Sanders, Grey, has an extended period under the hat and is finally sent to Ravenclaw.

(Jack thinks the hat sounds a bit grudging about it)

It turns out that Jack is actually in their year, a transfer student. When asked where from, he shrugs and says "here and there", which people generally take as either home schooled, or expelled from every other magical school in the world, because it turns out that Jack gets into fights the way most people breathe.

It isn't even duelling; magic is rarely involved. Rupert half-suspects that's intentional. After all, when you're fighting someone over the fact that they've just said something dismissive about the muggleborn, sending them to the hospital wing with a broken nose without drawing your wand at all does rather illustrate the point. Rupert lectures him about fighting and files neat, official complaints and sends home form-written teacher’s notes where it will help.

(Grey slips safely beneath the radar, by and large. He doesn't get letters at breakfast, but occasionally he'll find a book he's never seen with his name on the fly leaf in the Ravenclaw common room. Spider had been at Hogwarts, once upon a time, and he used to slip out to Hogsmede, and after all -  the Ravenclaw tower was guarded only by riddles.

This was all immaterial, given he could also turn into a spider at will, but at heart Spider appreciated the detail of these things)

Laney and Rupert quickly discover that it is very difficult not to like Jack. He seems permanently cheerful, but has a streak of dark humour that never fails to make Laney snicker. His magic is all over the place, which Rupert marks down to his haphazard teaching. Some of the fourth year material  is old hat to him, and some of their first year spells are novelties.

He also has a distressing (to Rupert, at least) tendency to wander at will into the Forbidden Forest. Rupert makes sad sounds whenever he catches Jack wandering in or out of the trees, and ignores the guilty awareness that he's been gradually working on containing an acromantula infestation in there for years. 

Laney tells Jack she isn't even an almost-squib, magically speaking, early in their fifth year. She had thought about it the summer before but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She's too used to secrecy, and she can't just hand this over to someone without knowing for certain that they won't let it slip. He stares at her, delighted, and immediately produces a battered jacket imbued with a shield charm. She pours over it, and he promises to write to the friend who made it for him to see if she can be persuaded to share her secrets. 

Laney and Rupert are too busy with their own studies to help Jack catch up on the patches in his own past learnings completely, so he’s had a mismatch of tutors since the professors first realised he was missing several foundations. Somehow he ends up being taught second year Charms by the runty first year he shared a boat over with. Grey trades off time running Jack through old class notes borrowed from Laney and Rupert to explain things he hasn't necessarily studied yet himself for time going over the material the fifth years are currently studying. 

(Grey is vaguely considering taking his OWLs early, except then he'd take the NEWTs early too, and he'd be stuck out in the world with stunning grades but no legal guardians, too young to do things like rent a flat or get a job even with his forged papers placing him as a few years older than he actually is)

Jack gets letters sporadically, usually accompanied by pictures covered in sticky fingerprints. They rarely seem to be delivered by the same bird twice, until he goes home to Mexico for one winter break, Grey in tow. They have a great time, even if Grey complains about the heat, but he also notices that none of the family know anything about what their youngest has been up to for the past six years. 

He corners Jack about it once they're back at Hogwarts, in a roundabout way, and it spills out - the one magical son in an entirely muggle home, except for a mother who had some magical relatives and extended family friends in several different countries. They'd fabricated an excuse for why he was leaving home, and Jack hadn't gone back since. His mother had been insistent that it would be good for him, better than staying at the local underground schools or going to the closer boarding school in America, even if she hadn't been able to verbalise why. She just knew.

His mother had been quite keen to hear what he'd been up to since he ran away from school, but Grey knows he wasn't supposed to have heard that conversation and won’t be getting any answers if he asks.

Laney listens closely, peers sidelong at Grey, and smirks at them both. 

"Well, I had to forge enough paperwork to get onto the Hogwarts register and fool my mother." While Grey splutters at the new information, Rupert tilts his head and asks ‘why Hogwarts’. She's never spoken about this before, and he hadn't wanted to pry. Laney shrugs. 

"Uagadou acceptance can't be faked, and I was actually born in England - mom and dad were over for a year living with my uncle, diplomatic stuff - so it was just feasible that I would have gone onto their register not Uagadou's." She smiles, sharp. "And anyway, everyone at Uagadou uses gestures not a wand, so magic would be a lot harder to fake."

They derail into a conversation about different schools of magic. If Rupert or Laney find it odd that Grey goes quiet when they mention Mahoutokoro, the school of magic closest to his home town (though they don't know this, precisely, just that he has a certain face structure and accent, and a tendency to slip into Japanese when he’s grumbling over books without realising), neither mention it. 

Jack waxes unexpectedly, passionately lyrical about how colour coding robes is harsh and minimising and biased anyway, because it rewards grades not effort, and some of the more flashy, non-grade related ingrained colour shifts follow no reasonable pattern, with no care for context.

Did you know that if you kill an aggressive giant with a third year spell you'd use to play pranks on your friends every week (and a lot of luck), your robes turn shimmering gold for 'services to the community'? But if you kill a rampaging dragon as it tries to eat you after razing an entire village with a curse you've only heard of and never dreamt of using, they'll go white as snow.

The year Laney, Rupert and Jack reach their sixth year of school, Grey is finally old enough to go to Hogsmede with them - well. According to his paperwork, anyway. They had offered to take him before through the hidden passage Rupert preferred for getting to the village to meet Sez, but he'd waved an ink specked hand to decline because he was too recognisable, too obviously not old enough to be on a Hogsmede trip, and that meant he wouldn't be allowed into the bookstore, so what even was the point?

Jack cheerfully trails Grey into the bookstore, holding a growing pile of books and trying (and failing) to see any kind of rhyme and reason behind the collection. Laney peels off to the joke shop to buy a few new toys. She comes out with a mental list of other purchases for Rupert, Jack, or Sez to pick up for her later to make sure nobody draws too many connections to her.

Rupert wanders around the local houses with his pack full of gifts he's carefully brought down from the castle - a pepper up potion brewed with better ingredients than a family could afford, a handful of pages carefully transcribed from an old rare book that only existed in three collections in the world for someone's research, several bags of cookies baked in a corner of the kitchens (the house elves had gotten used to this when Rupert was a child and didn't panic too much nowadays) to hand out to anyone he knows is having a bit of a rough patch, or will just appreciate a friendly visit.

They meet up at Sally-Anne's place as always, because it's good, cheap food and Rupert wouldn't dream of going anywhere else unless required by circumstance to be a Noble Example of a Pureblood Son.

(Sally had inherited the Hog's Head not more than a couple of years ago, but she's been practically running it since she was fifteen so everyone thinks of it as Sally-Anne's)

When Rupert arrive there are already textbooks scattered over his favourite booth. He, Jack and Laney all have a Care of Magical Creatures group project to work on. Grey is theoretically working on his own History of Magic essay, but is actually pouring wide eyed over their notes. Jack is waving his hands as he talks at length about dragon communications to an increasingly fascinated Grey and a frustrated Laney, because none of this is in any of the five books she's read, Farris, where are your sources - Rupert nudges her as he sits down, because while the mystery of Jack's sporadic yet strangely specific knowledge base is something they both agree they need to get to the bottom of, they've also agreed they should probably make sure they do it somewhere they can't be overheard, given how much he slides away from it.

Halfway through doodling a dragon (it's supposed to be a Liondragon, but Jack knows it's a poor copy of the carved sketches he's spent years watching George leave on tables, support beams and pieces of firewood) Jack feels a chill on the back of his neck, and shrugs it off as residual paranoia. 

The window explodes a moment later, and he pushes himself thoughtfully up from the scattered glass.

"Huh, so I guess that was an anti-apparition ward being set." He tries to explain this to the aggressive fellow Gryffindor who's loudly threatening to go fetch the aurors, and winds up tearing up his robes to act as a tourniquet because he isn't carrying any dittany and it's not like he's going to be given his wand back to actually repair the splinching wound anyway so he needs to do something.

Laney catches his eye as the two searching men start tearing up the floor in search of the rumoured tunnel to Hogwarts. She's fiddling with the bracelet on her left wrist, a dark wooden bangle with - if Jack remembers correctly - some constellation etched onto it. Rupert goes very still beside him, eyes apparently fixed on Sally shouting furiously at the Wizards tearing up her pub.

The hidden compartment on Laney's bangle flips open, and the room is abruptly plunged into night as it fills with dark mist. Jack lunges forwards towards the wizard holding their wands, and rolls cheerfully to his feet amid the sound of them clattering to the floor. From somewhere off to his left he can hear the loud oof of someone who has just been punched in the guts and probably hasn't been in a fight other than a magical duel since he was ten and doesn't remember how to roll with the punches.

In the dark, Jack grins.

[gingertodgers]

THANK YOU FOR WRITING TRANSGENDER AND GENDERFLUID CHARACTERS! Crescent Moon was the 1st Harry Potter story I've read and it was ery0ijjdsfl;ghserwerpj Padma helping her sister make the trans right banner! stjhrtqowhtqwr TWO GENDERFLUID CHARACTERS! I read in the batgirl and MCU fandoms and there's only one GF character per story. When I saw Fig and Millicent I yelled! THANK YOU!! I could key smash forever! What other trans Harry Potter stories do you like? THANK YOU!

Hello and welcome to the HP fandom, I’m really glad you liked Crescent Moon!

Pretty much everything angryspace-ravenclaw/LadyElena writes is wonderful, especially in terms of genderfluid characters and here is a list of most of their fics. Also @mxlfoydraco​​ did a rec list for trans Draco

Here are some of my other favourite fics:

All Hail the Outlaws by angryspace-ravenclaw(E - 29,330 words - Remus/Sirius)One of Remus Lupin’s three jobs happens to be working maintenance for their flat building. He gets to meet all sorts, most of whom he would rather have nothing to do with. Until James Potter and Sirius Black move in across the hall. Engineering students and self-proclaimed geniuses, the pair set out to make their neighbours new best friends, and everyone’s life is turned upside down, but in the best way possible. 

The Only True Goal of the Universe by punk-rock-yuppie(E - 22,753 - Harry/Draco)It comes up, as most juvenile things do, in a game of Truth or Dare.

Succession of Halos by angryspace-ravenclaw(G - 7,340 - Remus/Sirius)When Remus gets talked into seeing his favourite author–Astronomy Professor S. Black–hold a stargazing lecture, he anticipates a stodgy old man in tweed. He does not expect the ripped jeans and rolling-stones t-shirt wearing, motor-bike riding Sirius Black with his wicked smile and passion for the stars. Remus is sure there’s no chance between them, but little does he know, Sirius has a passion for many things in life, one of which being Remus Lupin.

The Dragon’s Arms by @ani-mage​(E - 22,650 - Harry/Draco)Since the war, Harry’s been living on the fringes of the Muggle world and alienated from the Wizarding world. Draco’s struggled his whole life to satisfy his father’s idea of what it means to be a “Malfoy Man” in the Wizarding world, never comfortable in the role. Can they help each other find a place where they feel at home?

Forever Is A State Of Mind by angryspace-ravenclaw(G - 36,408 - Remus/Sirius)Remus Lupin has an easy life. He manages his University studies and his chronic illness, and lives comfortably with his flatmate Regulus Black. Then one day he meets Regulus’ older brother and his entire life gets turned upside down when he’s offered an opportunity to make his life just a little bit easier. It was supposed to be just a business transaction between friends. Feelings were never supposed to get involved.

Colour Me Inside Out by angryspace-ravenclaw(E - 11,148 - James/Remus/Sirius)In spite of their fundamental differences, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin have a happy marriage. It’s open, and they have strict rules. Only one night, a stranger at a pub turns everything upside down, and now both are afraid with these new feelings, it means everything’s falling apart. Neither of them expect this outcome when James Potter enters their lives.

We’re Just a Box of Souvenirs by quiddative(T - 9,737 - Harry/Draco)Harry returns to England. Draco won’t make the same mistakes again. 

Living Like We’re Renegades by angryspace-ravenclaw(E - 24,378 - Remus/Sirius)Exuberant, proud, genderfluid, cheerleader, self-described narcissist. All things to describe Sirius Black. It’s a stark contrast from the self-imposed loner, Journalist, and Gender Studies major Remus Lupin who is thrown into Sirius’ world after accepting a project for a class. When the two worlds collide, both lives are changed for the better.

Pretty in Pink by @writcraft​(E - 3,757 - Harry/Draco)What happens when the only person who accepts your secrets is the one person you can’t stand?

Name Like Poetry by angryspace-ravenclaw(G - 1,222 - James/Regulus)James Potter has always loved Regulus Black. It’s not more complicated than that. And no matter what Regulus has done, he has always forgiven him.

Fics that I haven’t read but have been recommended:

The Queer Retellings series by SpaceHead(T - 33,776 - Harry/Draco)Harry Potter is trans, Draco Malfoy just desperately wants to be friends with him, and Lord Voldemort isn’t a thing. Going through all 8 years and retelling how Harry and Draco would interact if, well, everyone was queer. Also, Harry and Hermione are POC.

In Your Binder by SpaceHead(T - 3,912 - Harry/Draco)Harry and Draco end up in each others shoes in eighth year, or rather, Draco ends up in Harry’s binder. TW: Mentions of self harm.

Fresh Starts, Old Hearts by @centrumlumina(T - 6,901 - Harry/Ginny)“I think we’ve got a lot to figure out. But together we’ll get it sorted.”Harry kissed her forehead.“Together. Sure.”It didn’t sound any less impossible when Harry said it. But then, impossible was their speciality, wasn’t it?Or, the one where Harry is a trans woman, and she and Ginny are still in love. 

Out And Open by henrymercury(M - 74,526 - Harry/Draco)The war is over, and Draco finally has the courage to decide who she is.The war is over, and Harry finally has the freedom to decide what she likes.

the girl who lived (again) by @ink-splotch(G - 10,330 - Harry/Draco)Peeves, though he was nasty about everything else–ickle firsties and orphan girls–got it immediately. For all six years of Harry’s Hogwarts tenure, he dropped water balloons on the heads of anyone who misgendered her.Professor Binns never quite figured it out, but he didn’t know any student’s name. Nearly Headless Nick gallantly and somewhat awkwardly called her lady and tried to hold open doors for her, despite the fact that he couldn’t open them.Snape called Harry “Mr. Potter” for all seven years that he was in Harry’s life. Around year three, Ron stopped counting the detentions he got for his increasingly sarcastic responses to this.

‘Twas Brillig by Queenie_Mab(E - 73,998 - Harry/Draco)Harry reads a chapter of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland to his children before bed every night and through the story, he and his middle child find an ally in each other as they, along with Alice, discover a world that just doesn’t seem to make sense when taken at face value. The more aware Harry becomes - embracing his child’s reality - the more motivated he is to build a wizarding world that is fully inclusive, and by processing these life lessons finds he’s able to connect with another person in ways that have always eluded him.

[shazyloren]

The Room: Chapter 55 - Trusting the Friend

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710496/chapters/32932713

--------------

The attack on Jazzalyn Quench had meant to cause panic at the school, and it had done a wonderful job in achieving it's target. No one was walking alone anywhere, everyone was screaming every time a suit of armour moved. It was like walking through a horror house. And not to mention more fights had broken out due to people suspecting others and accusations flying left right and centre. Not even spells, just outright fists being used against each other.

Daenerys was worst of all, if the Heads and champions were being targeted she hardly ever left Jon's side. He, while showing that he was a man who was not scared, she knew he was too. You'd be foolish not to be anything else, really, particularly with everything going on and the impending doom that was the second task. Only a week away and causing more mass hysteria in Dany's body than the school put together. She wasn't ready for it, and even thought she felt like she knew more about Dragon's than an expert Professor, she was absolutely quacking as she was almost falling apart.

And Stannis Baratheon's suspicious behaviour did not help on that front. Jon had said what he'd noticed when they'd been in the Headmaster's office explaining the attack and Daenerys had fully agreed with him. She'd got a cold feeling from him, he was very shut off from the rest of them; and he was always disappearing in the hallways, you'd never find him after catching a glimpse of him once. There was something familiar about him though, it was that shut off and 'adult' exterior that she long associated with the dysfunctions of the men in her family. Men always were the same, only Professor Lannister was different, jolly and welcoming for the most part. Even the Minister had that same cold exterior that made Dany's skin crawl.

Men in power always act like it, she thought.

"And so Emeric the Evil slained as he had so many of his victims, claimed them no more thanks to Egbert the Egregious" She wasn't listening to Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, for he had been talking about this subject for so long she thought she'd grown old and was on the precipice of death. She looked at the clock and saw five minutes left, then she had a ten minute walk to the Room after lessons had finished. she would be on her own aswell, Jon had a free period and was doing his homework in the library last thing.

Well, he says that. Daenerys knows that he and Robb will just be talking about absolute rubbish and he'll get none of it done. Then he'll be panicking because he doesn't have enough time to finish it all and Dany will end up helping him. That's the way it always went. I should probably stop doing that, he doesn't do anything for me in return, she thought, a smile creeping on her face. He kisses well though, another thought crept in.

Dany's eyes widened as she realised what she'd thought and just shook it off as tired musings of someone who was still int the so called 'happy honeymoon' phase of her brand new relationship. If that's what they were. Of course, they called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, they probably were that too each other, but they'd never actually defined what they are. Dany wasn't in a rush to do this, their companionship was the only thing she'd been enjoying since the second attack, it was hard to keep spirits up, but Jon helped in doing exactly that.

It was ridiculous that they struggled so much in staying away from each other but if they were not careful this could be exactly what happened. They could be torn apart from each other forever if these attackers got their way. Suddenly, the prospect of facing a dragon wasn't as harrowing to Dany, the thought of losing Jon was so much greater in this moment. No one except him and Missandei would be upset if you went, she thought harshly about herself, and that last one is at a push.

It was true, she and Missandei hadn't spent as much time together as they'd have liked in the past few weeks. They had different schedule with only a few lessons crossing over nowadays and between keeping herself and the students safe, she was struggling to fit time in for her friend. It wasn't good enough, she'd been with her through all of it, she'd been a great friend and this was how she'd treated her.

She still hadn't told her about... him.

She should do it, she knows she should, but the prospect of letting someone else in on her deepest and darkest secret is so scary. however, if Dany didn't tell her soon, she'd find out from the papers and that was not how she wanted Missandei to find out. Stop being a wimp about it, you're a Targaryen, you're fire and blood and you are stronger now than ever before. Tell her!

Seeing everyone else get up and leave the room she scribbled a 'I'll be a little late to the room, need to speak with Missandei about something. See you in an hour Xx' on their magically linked notebooks before packing her stuff away and holding her wand firmly in her hand. The notebook warmed in her hand and so she looked at his reply. 'No problem, be safe X'. Daenerys felt her cheeks flush, he was so understanding.

Missandei had Herbology last and so Dany made her way to the Greenhouse to greet the Hufflepuff Students walking through the door. She stood awkwardly, not sure she even knew where to go to have this conversation, perhaps outside near the lake where no one else could hear. Even if it was a little chilly still. She spotted the hair first off, walking by herself with her head down. She said hi to passing students who smiled at her; even if most of them were fake (as were many of the people in the school to be honest) before hugging Missandei who seemed surprised to be accosted.

"Dany you're here" She seemed a little surprised, her honey eyes confused in the glow of the candles nearby. Dany nodded before asking her to come for a walk with her to the lake, but not actually giving her a choice and just dragging her with ease. She almost felt excited by the prospect of telling her, it would be a huge weight off of her shoulders. But she actually had to tell her, and that was the tongue-twister. "But dinner will be soon, I haven't eaten since breakfast"

Daenerys had to laugh at this, there was only one person in this whole school who had a bigger love for the elves cooking than Missandei and it was Jon. Although that was mainly just pancakes and the fish and chips. The winter sun was actually a little warmer than Dany had anticipated, it had to be double figures outside today. That or they were so cold still from the deep snow and hail that even a plus feels like the beach. "You'll be fine, I won't keep you that long"

They walked in silence, the wind howling as the chatter of students faded away behind them. Missandei looked tired, she always wasn't the best sleeper and Daenerys almost felt bad about telling her about her ordeal. She wouldn't sleep for weeks, and it would be all out of caring for Dany. A week didn't go by still without Missandei asking her if she was eating properly, drinking plenty and not pushing herself, Jon does the same too and she knows they both mean the best.

When they reached the lake, it was slowly melting, the lasting winter was fading away. Daenerys breathed in deeply, her nose tingling as the cold still snapped despite it's shaky cling on the coming spring weather. Bleak January had turned into hopeful February and with it, her attentions had been once again turned to inevitable death in the tournament and the need to tell all the truth. Missandei's gaze met hers, she knew something was up. "Something's wrong, what is it?"

Daenerys found her tongue getting caught in her throat and her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. "Do you remember, when we first came here together in third year?" Missandei nodded, remembering the first time they'd truly felt like they could be friends. It had been the last time she'd been here before the incident that Christmas. "That was the last time, until recently where I remember clearly being happy"

"What do you mean? You are happy, I see the way you and Jon are with each other" Her speech was impeccable, she really had improved. "Has something changed? Have you both fallen out with each other?"

"No, no. It's not Jon. It's..." She trailed off as the pain in her arm came to her attention, it was all in her head the pain she knew it, it had been four years since he'd grabbed her arm in that way, four years since she'd lost herself. "My brother attacked me" She said, tears already pooling at her eyes as she remembered the feeling of being split open as he forced himself inside her. "I was fourteen, Missandei"

"What do you mean he attacked you?" She looked lost, and Daenerys didn't want to say the R word again. She was tired of saying it, of think it, of feeling that word in her body. She was tired of reliving it every time she thought of the word, she was tired of this trial not being over. She was tired of hearing others talk about it and having to relive it every second of every day. She sighed exasperatingly and the sharp intake of breath she heard from her left meant Missandei had understood. "Dany... I- you... I mean"

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I just needed to tell you before everyone else knows" She sat on a rock to try and calm herself down. There was going to be a few long weeks ahead with the trial and everything else thrown into it. She wanted the support of Missandei, even though she shouldn't assume she'd get it, to help her through it. She had Jon, but she needed her best friend. "Yes, I was raped by my brother"

Missandei looked intense, as if she wasn't properly processing what she'd said but also struggling with what to say. "He w-won't get away with it, w-will he?"

"He's been arrested"

There was a silence, Missandei clearly was struggling harder with words than she had done in a while and Daenerys felt bad for causing it. But she had to tell her, she felt bad for only just doing so. "When?" She asked frantically. "When was he?"

"A few weeks ago, the minister is keeping it all hush. I asked him to until everything was ready to go forward, and it will be soon" Words came pouring out, it had not been nearly as emotional as her heart pouring out to Jon, but as she was beginning to accept that this all happened, she was finding it easier to talk about. Not that it should ever be easy because it was a horrifying thing that happened. "Piece of shit"

"Your own brother..." Missandei was horrified, she sat next to Dany on the rock. "Was... was it just the once?"

Daenerys shook her head, her braid blowing behind her in the freezing cold as it whipped around and hit her in the neck a few times. Missandei, placed her hand on Dany's shoulder to offer support. They'd never shown much affection to each other in such a way as normal friends should before. Dany had always struggled with it since her violation in third year and Missandei could never communicate well. But this moment between them, was a show of support that's never been there between them before.

"I... I'm so sorry" Missandei cried then and Dany just held onto the hand that was on her shoulder and looked out to the lake, the giant squid popping it's head up slightly before going back down into the depth of the black lake. She knew it would be raw, she knew it would be emotional, but never expected it to be like this. Especially when Missandei couldn't say what she felt properly. "I should've asked- I didn't see... You were hurt and I-"

"That is not on you, Missandei" Dany assured her, squeezing the hand tighter. "I've been in so much pain, he hurt me so bad... but you got me through it, you were my only friend when everyone else hated me, and you didn't have to. You saw past how angry I had become and still was my friend anyway. I'll never forget that, Missandei" Daenerys couldn't make much of the lake out now, her tears and Missandei's being the only sound, the wind even stopping. "You kept me standing"

"I don't... I can't..." She stuttered.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything" Daenerys was happy to just hold her hand as they looked out at the view before them, wiping her tears away. She was happy to have her friend in the know, a pressure once again eased off of her but with that, the knowing that something else will come along and take it's place.

But for now, she was a little more free.

[derrickperegrine]

uh wow so this is crazy ... just around a week ago i hit 800, and now i’m at 900 ... this is absolutely insane, thank you all for following me and supporting me! this really means a lot and i’m really honoured that so many of you like my blog!

so here’s a little something to thank you all!! i want you guys to know that you are the best and that i appreciate every single one of you!

rules:

mbf this slavophile

reblog this post!

send me up to two of these:

☁ for a durmstrang rate

✎ for a blog rate

☆ for an aesthetic rate

mutuals only - ♥ for a promo

maybe check out my awesome net @snakepitnet

maybe check out some of my stuff

mutuals - maybe join my gang! if you’re not sure we’re mutuals, i follow from @perfectchekov!!

if you don’t want to see any of these please blacklist the tag durmsdang!

formats under the cut

durmstrang rate

best subjects: history of voyage | shadow transfiguration | combative charms | legend herbology | summoning charms | eagle riding | transfigurative alchemy worst subjects: history of voyage | shadow transfiguration | combative charms | legend herbology | summoning charms | eagle riding | transfigurative alchemy quidditch position: chaser | keeper | beater | seeker | captain | audience extracurriculars: dueling club | alchemy society | hunting & games club | blacksmiths club | sailing team | archery team | history society | myth society pet: owl | raven | eagle | cat | hound | wolf | snake blood status: pureblood | halfblood | muggleborn | creature | mystery favourite place: the whispering forest | kraken lagoon | common hall | sparring grounds | library of eternal learning | mages’ bazaar | the docks | observatory job: professor | quidditch player | wandmaker | auror | duelist | governmental | researcher | explorer | magical creatures specialist | artist | architect

blog rate

url: little whinging | pigfarts | fluffy | whomping willow | werewolf mcwerewolf icon: walburga | sir cardogan | fat lady | dumbledore | merlin theme: drooble’s best | sugar quill | jelly slug | sherbet lemon | chocolate frog mobile theme: mimbletonia | mandrake | gillyweed | devil’s snare | elder content: lockhart | binns | flitwick | lupin | mcgonagall overall: acceptable | exceeds expectations | outstanding | auror | minister following: no, but ily | just did | yes | until the very end comment: you’re fucking awesome thank you for following my sorry arse

aesthetic rate

musical movement: baroque | romanticism | symbolism | tin pan alley | jazz | blues | latin | rock | punk | disco | grunge | hip hop | experimental | pop artistic movement: renaissance | romanticism | baroque | classicism | impressionism | expressionism | art nouveau | cubism | abstract weather: sunny | cloudy | foggy | windy | rainy | thunderstorm | snowy | hail time: early morning | late morning | noon | afternoon | evening | midnight plant: mint | cactus | eucalyptus | cherry | pine | oak | maple | apple | lavender landscape: seascape | meadow | desert | forest | mountain | canyon | steppe colour: (hexcode) word: (word + definition/translation)

[carewyncromwell]

Favorite Gryffindor: Bill Weasley. I already liked him in the books, but him basically adopting MC just made me like him even more. ❤️

Least Favorite Gryffindor: Emily Tyler, hands down.

Favorite Hufflepuff: Chiara!! Though Diego’s recently become a close second.

Least Favorite Hufflepuff: Jane, but it’s a stretch. I mostly just wonder what the hell she did to get a stint in Azkaban!!

Favorite Ravenclaw: Talbott! Andre is up there too, but I’m sorry, I just adore our sweet bird bb.

Least Favorite Ravenclaw: Tulip, but only by default — I actually think Ravenclaw has the most diverse personalities of the houses, and I think that’s great.

Favorite Slytherin: Barnaby Effin’ Lee. He’s my favorite character in the game too! I also have a soft spot for Duncan Ashe.

Least Favorite Slytherin: Ismelda — I wish she’d gotten more character development like Barnaby and even Merula have over the years.

Favorite Quidditch Character: Orion! I love his laid-back, philosophical attitude and his backstory.

Least Favorite Quidditch Character: Skye — sorry, honey, still haven’t forgiven you for starting rumors about Erika Rath stealing that broom without any proof.

Favorite Teacher: Minerva McGonagall! All hail the Queen.

Least Favorite Teacher: Binns — he ruins what could be an amazing subject with how boring his lectures are!

Favorite Non-Teacher Adult: I really like Madame Rosmerta — I love that she helped Jacob out. 💗

Least Favorite Non-Teacher Adult: Gilderoy Lockhart — he was absolutely insufferable in that Valentine’s Day quest!

Rate Rowan on a scale of 1-10, 1 being “Why are we even friends?” and 10 being “BFFs for Life!”: 9

Rate Jacob on a scale of 1-10, 1 being “You’re dead to me” and 10 being “Love you forever, big bro!!”: 9

Rate MC and your similarities on a scale of 1-10, 1 being “MC is nothing like me” to 10 being “MC is ttly a self-insert lol”: 6 — Carewyn slightly visually resembles me as a teenager and we both love music, fashion, and history, but she’s actually a lot like my mum too, with her organized, methodical view of things and her interest in Quidditch. Her relationship with Jacob is also based on my mum’s relationship with her older brother!

Favorite Side Quest: I really enjoy the friendship quests, especially Chiara’s friendship quest and the Flying Solo quest for Talbott. I love diving into the characters’ histories and getting to know them better.

Least Favorite Side Quest: The All-Wizard Tournament came across as very forced and contrived, to me. Though I appreciate the energy boost from the trophy Carewyn won for it.

Your Ideal Ending for Patricia Rakepick: I want Rakepick to end up being a really morally gray, complex character in the end — ideally by her being a terrible, selfish person blinded by her own desire for glory and greatness who nonetheless developed some genuine affection for her students — and so I’d like her to either die repaying a life debt to MC or be defeated in an epic duel with MC and be captured and imprisoned in Azkaban. I want her to be someone you could feel compassion for, but I’m not sure I want her to be made into a hero by the story. We could use a really good, interesting anti-villain, to contrast the straight evil Voldemort and the hotly debated “anti-hero” Severus Snape.

Starting a HPHM Tag! Feel free to fill it out, and tag your fellow players!

@immagrosscandy @dat-silvers-girl @weasley-adoptee @annabelle-tanaka @pepperuppuffskeins @hphm-roger @hphm-brooke @kyril-hphm @blubxtch @nikyiscreepy @cursebreaker-lilith I know I’ve forgotten people, so please steal! ❤️💛💙💚

Hogwarts Mystery Survey!!!

Favorite Gryffindor:

Least Favorite Gryffindor:

Favorite Hufflepuff:

Least Favorite Hufflepuff:

Favorite Ravenclaw:

Least Favorite Ravenclaw:

Favorite Slytherin:

Least Favorite Slytherin:

Favorite Quidditch Character:

Least Favorite Quidditch Character:

Favorite Teacher:

Least Favorite Teacher:

Favorite Non-Teacher Adult:

Least Favorite Non-Teacher Adult:

Rate Rowan on a scale of 1-10, 1 being “Why are we even friends?” and 10 being “BFFs for Life!”:

Rate Jacob on a scale of 1-10, 1 being “You’re dead to me” and 10 being “Love you forever, big bro!!”:

Rate MC and your similarities on a scale of 1-10, 1 being “MC is nothing like me” to 10 being “MC is ttly a self-insert lol”:

Favorite Side Quest:

Least Favorite Side Quest:

Your Ideal Ending for Patricia Rakepick:

[shockinglyunambitious]

⚡️Save The Date! May 2nd ⚡️#SHEINSPIRES Group Show @untitledspaceny Curated by #IndiraCesarine ⚡️ Featuring #artwork by 60 #artists revolving around inspirational #women with proceeds supporting non-profit @SheShouldRun⚡️ #ARTISTS INCLUDE: Agent X, Alex Nuñez, Alexis Duque Art, Ann J Lewis, Anna Cone, Annika Connor, Anya Rubin, Anyes Galleani, Cabell Molina Art, Cassandra Klos, Cecilia Collantes, Cristin Millett, Danielle Siegelbaum, Daryl Daniels, Dena Paige Fischer, Desire Rebecca Moheb-Zandi, Diana Casanova, Elise Garcia De La Huerta, Farrin Chwalkowski, Fischer Cherry, Haile Shawna Binns, J'Nell Jordan, Jacqueline Secor Artist, Jamie Martinez, Jasmine Anokye, Jen Dwyer, Jeremy Penn, Jess De Wahls, Joanna Wlaszyn, Joseph Cavalieri, Miss Meatface (Kat Toronto), Katherine Crockett, Katya Zvereva, Kelsey Bennett, KiSub Lee, Kim Rae Taylor, Laura Murray, Lauren Rinaldi Painting, Leslie Sheryll, Lili Lopez, Linda Friedman Schmidt, Loretta Lomanto, Lynn Bianchi, Manju Shandler, Marcelo Daldoce, Maria Petrovskaya, Michael Hubbard, Molly Crabapple, Nichole Washington, Nils Karsten, Rebecca Leveille Guay, Reza Rafiei Rad, Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Sam Cannon, Senem Oezdogan, Shihori Yamamoto Studio, Sylvia Maier Paintings, Tara Lewis, Yulia Vanifatieva, Zen Sevastyanova. Get all the info! http://untitled-space.com/she-inspires/ @untitledspaceny (at The Untitled Space)

[berezina]

"An Excelente Balade of Charitie"

In Virgynë the sweltrie sun gan sheene, And hotte upon the mees did caste his raie; The apple rodded from its palie greene, And the mole peare did bende the leafy spraie; The peede chelandri sunge the livelong daie; 'Twas nowe the pride, the manhode of the yeare, And eke the grounde was dighte in its moste defte aumere.

The sun was glemeing in the midde of daie, Deadde still the aire, and eke the welken blue, When from the sea arist in drear arraie A hepe of cloudes of sable sullen hue, The which full fast unto the woodlande drewe, Hiltring attenes the sunnis fetive face, And the blacke tempeste swolne and gatherd up apace.

Beneathe an holme, faste by a pathwaie side, Which dide unto Seyncte Godwine's covent lede, A hapless pilgrim moneynge did abide. Pore in his newe, ungentle in his weede, Longe bretful of the miseries of neede, Where from the hail-stone coulde the almer flie? He had no housen theere, ne anie covent nie.

Look in his glommed face, his sprighte there scanne; Howe woe-be-gone, how withered, forwynd, deade! Haste to thie church-glebe-house, asshrewed manne! Haste to thie kiste, thie onlie dortoure bedde. Cale, as the claie whiche will gre on thie hedde, Is Charitie and Love aminge highe elves; Knightis and Barons live for pleasure and themselves.

The gatherd storme is rype; the bigge drops falle; The forswat meadowes smethe, and drenche the raine; The comyng ghastness do the cattle pall, And the full flockes are drivynge ore the plaine; Dashde from the cloudes the waters flott againe; The welkin opes; the yellow levynne flies; And the hot fierie smothe in the wide lowings dies.

Liste! now the thunder's rattling clymmynge sound Cheves slowlie on, and then embollen clangs, Shakes the hie spyre, and losst, dispended, drown'd, Still on the gallard eare of terroure hanges; The windes are up; the lofty elmen swanges; Again the levynne and the thunder poures, And the full cloudes are braste attenes in stonen showers.

Spurreynge his palfrie oere the watrie plaine, The Abbote of Seyncte Godwynes convente came; His chapournette was drented with the reine, And his pencte gyrdle met with mickle shame; He aynewarde tolde his bederoll at the same; The storme encreasen, and he drew aside, With the mist almes craver neere to the holme to bide.

His cope was all of Lyncolne clothe so fyne, With a gold button fasten'd neere his chynne; His autremete was edged with golden twynne, And his shoone pyke a loverds mighte have binne; Full well it shewn he thoughten coste no sinne: The trammels of the palfrye pleasde his sighte, For the horse-millanare his head with roses dighte.

'An almes, sir prieste!' the droppynge pilgrim saide, 'O! let me waite within your covente dore, Till the sunne sheneth hie above our heade, And the loude tempeste of the aire is oer; Helpless and ould am I alas! and poor; No house, ne friend, ne moneie in my pouche; All yatte I call my owne is this my silver crouche.'

'Varlet,' replyd the Abbatte, 'cease your dinne; This is no season almes and prayers to give; Mie porter never lets a faitour in; None touch mie rynge who not in honour live.' And now the sonne with the blacke cloudes did stryve, And shettynge on the grounde his glairie raie, The Abbatte spurrde his steede, and eftsoones roadde awaie.

Once moe the skie was blacke, the thunder rolde; Faste reyneynge oer the plaine a prieste was seen; Ne dighte full proude, ne buttoned up in golde; His cope and jape were graie, and eke were clene; A Limitoure he was of order seene; And from the pathwaie side then turned hee, Where the pore almer laie binethe the holmen tree.

'An almes, sir priest!' the droppynge pilgrim sayde, 'For sweete Seyncte Marie and your order sake.' The Limitoure then loosen'd his pouche threade, And did thereoute a groate of silver take; The mister pilgrim dyd for halline shake. 'Here take this silver, it maie eathe thie care; We are Goddes stewards all, nete of oure owne we bare.

'But ah! unhailie pilgrim, lerne of me, Scathe anie give a rentrolle to their Lorde. Here take my semecope, thou arte bare I see; Tis thyne; the Seynctes will give me mie rewarde.' He left the pilgrim, and his waie aborde. Virgynne and hallie Seyncte, who sitte yn gloure, Or give the mittee will, or give the gode man power.

~Thomas Chatterton

[jaeame-blog]

Virgin Money London Marathon 2017: All the world records from this year's race confirmed | London Marathon

An astonishing moment of sportsmanship warmed the hearts of London marathon spectators today when an exhausted runner was carried over the line. EastEnders legend Ian Beale posed for pictures while eating a 99 ice cream halfway through the London marathon today. A runner competing in the London Marathon has been praised for sacrificing his own race to help another exhausted competitor over the finishing line in what has been described as the ultimate act of sportsmanship. A London Marathon runner helped an exhausted competitor across the finishing line in an act of sportsmanship that increased his own time.

A London marathon runner is being praised for embodying the spirit of sportsmanship after he offered a helping hand to another exhausted athlete struggling to cross the finish line. The closing miles of a marathon can be absolute bedlam. A runner competing in the London Marathon has been praised for sacrificing his own race to help another exhausted competitor over the finishing line in what has been described as the ultimate act of sportsmanship.A runner paused to do something nearly unthinkable for a competitive athlete in an important race as he neared the finish line of the London Marathon on Sunday. The royal trio kicked off the 2017 London Marathon on Sunday , then camped out at a cheering point to support the runners.

There's joy from those completing their first 26.2 mile race or clocking a personal best There's tears knowing all the hard work from training paid off. London Marathon Runner Helps Exhausted Athlete Over Finishing Line And It Was Brilliant.The Telegraph's Bryony Gordon celebrates finishing the London Marathon with a quick sign-off. London Marathon competitor Liam Jolliff proposes to his girlfriend Sarah Binns after he completed the race. 0 comments. A runner squirts water towards Britain's Prince William, the Duke of Cambridge, as he hands out water to runners during the London Marathon. Virgin Money Giving has apologised for a website malfunction which meant last-minute well-wishers were unable to donate to London Marathon runners. Prince William, Princess Kate, and Prince Harry carried their message on mental health to the London Marathon on Sunday.

[martineali]

[derrickperegrine]

ahh congrats!! you totally deserve it!!! ✎ and ☆ please :))

thanks so much!!

url: little whinging | pigfarts | fluffy | whomping willow | werewolf mcwerewolficon: walburga | sir cardogan | fat lady | dumbledore | merlintheme: drooble’s best | sugar quill | jelly slug | sherbet lemon | chocolate frogmobile theme: mimbletonia | mandrake | gillyweed | devil’s snare | eldercontent: lockhart | binns | flitwick | lupin | mcgonagalloverall: acceptable | exceeds expectations | outstanding | auror | ministerfollowing: no, but ily | just did | yes | until the very endcomment: your blog is so gorgeous!! i love your theme (the blue is so gorgeous) and your posts all look wonderful!! i love the aesthetic you have going on, it’s super nice, and i feel like your url is sweet considering that your name is daphne :)

musical movement: baroque | romanticism | symbolism | tin pan alley | jazz | blues | latin | rock | punk | disco | grunge | hip hop | experimental | popartistic movement: renaissance | romanticism | baroque | classicism | impressionism | expressionism | art nouveau | cubism | abstractweather: sunny | cloudy | foggy | windy | rainy | thunderstorm | snowy | hailtime: early morning | late morning | noon | afternoon | evening | midnightplant: mint | cactus | eucalyptus | cherry | pine | oak | maple | apple | lavenderlandscape: seascape | meadow | desert | forest | mountain | canyon | steppecolour: #9bbab6word: saudade - a portuguese word that refers to a longing for something or someone that you love and is now lost

reb celebrates 900