#St Cornelius

[portraitsofsaints]

Happy Feast Day

Saint Cornelius the Centurion

1st century

Feast Day: October 20

Patronage: soldiers, benefactors, philanthropists, Jewish converts

Saint Cornelius the Centurion was the first non-Jewish convert to Christianity. He was an Italian Captain of the Roman Army. As related in the Acts of the Apostles, an angel appeared to him and invited him to seek St. Peter for instructions and baptism. At the same time, St. Peter had a vision from God that released the Jews and converts from the strict dietary Mosaic laws. After St. Peter baptized Cornelius and his family the Holy Spirit descended upon all of them.

Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase. (Website)

[cuties-in-codices]

saints & fancy border decorations

in the hours of catherine of cleves, dutch, c. 1440

source: NYC, Morgan Library, MS M.917/945, pp. 228-280

[noirgasmweetheart]

Lorre's Cat Cafe: Leyden

One of the few purely innocent creatures in this cafe, Leyden is shy, curious and a lapcat. His favorite room is the library. But he enjoys sneaking out and exploring places he's not supposed to. He is an meticulous sniffer, investigating any new object or individual in the building. Leyden is no hunter though. Most of the time he couldn't hurt another animal, and actually seems somewhat afraid of mice, though he does chirp at birds.

But there was one time when an unleashed St. Bernard got into the house and began chasing and terrifying all the other cats. When the huge dog sniffed Leyden, the tiny cat batted its snout with an angry hiss, then pounced on the canine's shocked face. Leyden was a hissing fur grenade until a human plucked him off the dog, who ran out with his tail between his legs. To this day, when that dog's owner walks him past our building and he sees Leyden sitting in the window, the dog is terrified.

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1916 – Easter Rising | Irish patriots, Michael Mallin, Eamonn Ceannt, Cornelius “Con” Colbert and Sean Heuston are shot dead in Kilmainham Gaol.

Executions of Easter Rising Leaders continue by a British regime in Stonebreakers’ Yard at Kilmainham Gaol, completely insensitive to the fact it was creating numerous martyrs and generating an emotional calling cry for Irish rebellion that would culminate in the War of Independence. Shot dead on this day: Michael Mallin | Born in Co Dublin, he was a music teacher, devout Catholic and teetotaler.…

[dandelion-de-deus]

Liturgical colors are great. I love being able to walk into a church to see it garbed in red and immediately think to myself, “ah, yes. Who died today”

[nerds-yearbook]

With only 6 issues, Marvel concluded their "Tomb of Dracula" vol 2 line, cover date August, 1980. The issue introduced Annabelle St John, Nathan Beauregard, Sarah Beauregard, and Cornelius St John created by Jim Shooter and Gene Colan. ("A House Devided", "Violets For A Vampire", Tomb of Dracula 6# vol 2, Marvel Comic Group.)

[catholic-saint-tournament]

I nominate Pope St Cornelius, and you can add my vote to Saints Francis of Assisi, Joan of Arc, John the Apostle, Julian of Norwich, Lucy, Mary Magdalene, Michael the Archangel, Nicholas of Myra and Teresa of Avila.

Pope St Cornelius added to the pre-schism list, and everyone else has got another vote!!

[gastricotv]

PONLE PLAY | 2024 - 012

[theyonagoda]

Cornelius Hickey's 2nd son + The general tragedy of it all.

So, like, I guess a lot of people know that IRL Cornelius Hickey had a son baptized in 1844. Looking through the birth registrations of St Mary's parish, Limerick, Ireland reveals that Thomas Hickey was likely not his only son. In May 1846, John Hickey was baptized, with Cornelius and his wife, Bridget Garvey, clearly stated to be his parents. By then, of course, Cornelius would've set sail to the arctic- the timeline matches exactly if Bridget got pregnant RIGHT before the expedition, and then waited, as many families did, for a few months before baptizing the child.

Here's the snippet! If you find it hard to read, the ancestry.com screenshot is below.

For reference, the more well-known Thomas Hickey's baptism record:

Sometimes I find myself imagining Bridget. One child in her hand, another in her womb, waiting for her husband to come home from the sea. When did she start losing hope? How did she feel, watching them grow up, looking like the father that Thomas will never remember and John had never met?

[viennafantasies]

𝜗𝜚- Character's I write for

Outer Banks: jj maybank, rafe cameron, john b routledge

The Vampire Diaries: damon salvatore, stefan salvatore, klaus mikaelson, kai parker, kol mikaelson, elijah mikaelson, jeremy gilbert, enzo st john

Pretty Little Liars: toby cavanaugh, caleb rivers, Jason dilaurentis

Glee: santana lopez & sam evans

Once Upon A Time: killian jones & peter pan

Brooklyn Nine Nine: jake peralta

Gossip Girl: chuck bass & nate archibald (for now)

Riverdale: archie andrews & jughead jones

The Office: luke cooper & jim halpert

Stranger Things: steve harrington & billy hargrove

Cobra Kai: miguel diaz, robbie keene & hawk aka: eli horowitz

The X Files: fox mulder

American Horror Story: tate langdon, kit walker, kyle spencer

Pen15: dustin long, brandt

Outnumbered: jake

Marvel: loki laufeyson, steve rogers, bucky barnes, peter parker

DC: bruce wayne, clark kent, dick grayson, joker

Hunger Games: finnick odair & peter malarky, ps. I haven't done cornelius bc I haven't watched the new movie :)

Harry Potter: ron weasley, draco malfoy, blaise zabini, mattheo riddle, tom riddle, lorenzo berkshire, theodore nott, lucian bole, james potter, sirius black, remus lupin, regulus black

Note: Let me know if you want any poly, my requests will be open by tomorrow. You can request whatever you want but it has to be x reader. I don't mind writing anything but be careful with warnings. I hope you have a great day!! mwah :) ps. tell me if you want fluff, smut or angst. I don't know how to do smut that well but I will try!

cba to do tags

still did it ...

[scotianostra]

Mary, Queen of Scots, was born at Linlithgow Palace, on December 8th 1542.

Mary’s father was at his beloved palace of Falkland, where he would in fact die aged thirty on 6 days later, having learned of the birth of his baby daughter. The true cause of the death of James V has never been satisfactorily explained, although all sources agree that the king underwent a physical and nervous collapse as a result of his humiliation and devastation at the Battle of Solway Moss. However as I posted two weeks ago the King missed the battle and was perhaps suffering from a fever beforehand, in my opinion it is being used as a poor excuse for his death.

The room in which Mary was born is now little more than a romantic ruin without a roof, however its location in the north-west portion of Linlithgow Palace, still enjoys the view out over the loch as it did when Mary’s mother Queen Mary of Guise, gave birth to her here.

History would in fact come full circle, with Mary’s own granddaughter, Elizabeth of Bohemia, the so-called “Winter Queen”, residing also at Linlithgow in her time. The near-lying St. Michael’s Church is traditionally thought to have been the setting for Mary’s christening. Mary in fact only remained some months at Linlithgow, being taken onwards to the castle of Stirling by Mary of Guise. Historical doubt has arisen over the accuracy of December 8 as the actual birthday of Mary Queen of Scots and it has been suggested that the event in reality may have taken place on December 7th, but that December 8th was used so that the day could coincide with the feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Mary herself however always referred to December 8 thas the day she regarded as being her birthday.

Indeed one historical works about Mary's life gave this short account.....

"The nation partook in Mary of Guise' misfortunes, when she lost both her sons, soon after the birth of the second. She had the consolation, however of bringing her husband, while he was dying of an afflicted spirit, a daughter, on the 7th of December 1542, in the palace of Linlithgow."

The birth of Mary Queen of Scots is commemorated annually by a short private ceremony at Westminster Abbey on her birthday, 8 thDecember, together with the laying of flowers in the Queen’s memory. The Marie Stuart Society raised funds to enable a statue of the Queen to be erected on the Peel at Linlithgow Palace, the place of her birth and I have heard some of them gather there now to remember Queen Mary.

I also think it sad that our Queen was buried in Westminster, the traditional burial setting for many of England’s monarchs and the setting for each royal coronation since her own death. Although Mary had herself requested to be buried in France, this wish was not granted by Elizabeth I and she was initially interred with great solemnity at Peterborough Cathedral in late 1587, where her body remained at rest for twenty five years. It was the eventual wish of James VI/I, that her body be removed from Peterborough Cathedral to Westminster Abbey in 1612, ordering a spectacular marble canopy tomb to his mother’s memory by the sculptors Cornelius and William Cure, today to be found opposite the tomb of Elizabeth I, in the Abbey’s south aisle of the Lady Chapel. The tomb is loaded with symbolism particular to Mary’s ancestry and life with a crowned Scottish lion, bearing a magnificent Latin mourning inscription written by Henry, Earl of Northampton and containing two verses from the Gospel book of Peter. Close to her tomb is that of her mother-in-law, Margaret, Countess of Lennox.

However, the tomb of Mary Queen of Scots did not remain undisturbed following her reburial, nor was the peace of her final resting place unbroken. Mary would come to share her burial vault with many of her descendants, including her granddaughter Elizabeth of Bohemia, the unfortunate Arbella Stuart, Prince Rupert of the Rhine, the much lamented Henry Prince of Wales as well as ten infant children of James II and the eighteen babies of Queen Anne who died at birth. This search had been prompted by Dean Stanley in 1867, because the location of the coffin of Mary’s son James VI/I was at that time unknown. Logical thought led the searchers to assume that he may have been buried in the Stuart vault of his mother, although his lead coffin was eventually found in the vault of Henry VII, where he lay alongside the remains of his great-great-grandparents Henry VII and Queen Elizabeth of York.

So there you have it from her birth in 1542, to her death in 1587, I think I cover enough of her life throughout the year for you all to fill in the missing years, which as usual I will endeavour to do once more in the year 2020.

The pic is her portrait by the French artist François Clouet. she is thought to have been 16-18 years old at the time.

[portraitsofsaints]

Saint Cornelius the Centurion

1st century

Feast Day: October 20

Patronage: soldiers, benefactors, philanthropists, Jewish converts

Saint Cornelius the Centurion was the first non-Jewish convert to Christianity. He was an Italian Captain of the Roman Army. As related in the Acts of the Apostles, an angel appeared to him and invited him to seek St. Peter for instructions and baptism. At the same time, St. Peter had a vision from God that released the Jews and converts from the strict dietary Mosaic laws. After St. Peter baptized Cornelius and his family the Holy Spirit descended upon all of them.

Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase here: (website)

[wc-confessions]

Hello, it’s xenofic recs anon again! Please check this link for the previous list; there’s a lot of books here: https://www.tumblr.com/wc-confessions/753648281346801664/heres-a-rapid-fire-list-of-non-warriors?source=share.

I made an error with The Secret of NIMH, it’s a trilogy, not a single book! I learned that Silverwing has a TV show, too. I’m also changing my method to save time. If a novel interests you, I suggest searching it up.

In exchange, I’ll clarify my goal in sending these recommendations. I do it because I want xenofiction to grow. I want people to realize there are plenty of series out there. If you end up liking a series more than Warriors, good for you! If you end up disliking a series more than Warriors, good for you! I want to invite constructive discussions surrounding xenofiction as a whole. You aren’t better for not reading Warriors just like how you aren’t better for reading only Warriors. These asks come from a love of xenofiction and wanting to spread the word. I am in no way attempting to show malice towards Warriors or uncritical favoritism towards the series I list. 

The Guardian Herd series by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez.

The Gryphon Insurrection series by K. Vale Nagle.

The Council of Cats by R. J. F.

Swordbird series by Nancy Yi Fan.

Strong Hearts are Mandatory series by Teelia Pelletier. Hey, did you know the song Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles? Throw some cats in there!

Hunter’s Moon: A Story of Foxes by Garry Kilworth.

Darkeye series by Lydia West.

Prehistoria: The Raptor’s Tail by Jack Blackburn. One book but seemingly a future series.

Raven Quest by Sharon Stewart.

The Tales from Veynekan series by Fiona Jade Thornburg.

The Dogs of the Spires series by Ethan Summers.

Skytalons series, The Wolves of Elementia series, and Griffin Quest series by Sophie Torro. Fun fact: the author used to be Warriors Unlimited, and she published her first book, Cornelius’ Curse, at 16!

The Wildings series by Nilanjana Roy.

War Bunny Chronicles series by Christopher St. John. 

Hunters Universe series, more commonly known as Hunters Unlucky, by Abigail Hilton.

This is all I have for now. To cap this off, I want to give a shout-out to @/drive-pdfs-and-stuff. They have resources for those who are unable to pay for novels. I’ll appear again when I have more to show!

‎

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (see full series list here)

1993

"Excuse me — sorry — just coming through..." you squeeze past the throes of people, trying to make your way to your seats with McGonagall. "Bloody hell."

You're starting to get quite agitated, though you're still brimming with excitement at the match ahead. McGonagall mutters something under her breath, gesturing subtly to your left. You follow her hand and groan.

There's Cornelius Fudge, and he's just after catching sight of the pair of you.

"Professors!"

Beside him, is a wizard you don't recognise, Mr Weasley, Ron, Harry, and Hermione. You smile widely at them, trying your best to ignore the fool beside them.

"Hello!" you say cheerfully, as yourself and McGonagall make your way over.

"Wonderful to see you as always, Minerva!" Fudge booms happily. He then gives you a weak, forced smile, and says, "And...you, too, of course."

"The pleasure's all mine, Minister," you say blankly.

He begins to chatter away with McGonagall and you can't help but notice the subtle annoyance in her expression. You turn to the kids and Mr Weasley, holding out your hand.

"Mr Weasley, right? It's wonderful to meet you — I teach your children Astronomy at Hogwarts."

Mr Weasley, a red-headed man just like the rest of his family, beams at you, excitedly shaking your hand.

"Ah, yes — I have heard plenty about you! You are here for the match as well?"

You grin. "Of course! Fingers crossed for an Ireland win!"

"Have you ever been to a World Cup, Professor?" Hermione asks you.

You nod. "Oh, yes. Quite a few, actually! Sirius used to — "

You pause.

"Seriously used to love it."

You exchange a glance with Harry, who gives you a small smile, and you return it.

"...ah, and here's Lucius now!" You catch the ends of Fudge's words and fail to hide your grimace.

Edging along the seats is a sour-looking man with disgustingly bleached hair, followed by his equally sour-looking son and his wife.

Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa Malfoy.

Narcissa, who's technically your...cousin-in-law?

"Ah, Fudge," says Lucius, holding out his hand for him to shake. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do? How do you?" says Fudge, smiling and bowing to Narcissa. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblonsk — Mr Obalonsk — Mr — well, he's Bulgarian Minister for Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. Let's see, who else — well, the professors teach your son, I'm sure — I daresay you know Arthur Weasley?"

Mr Weasley and Lucius look at each other, tension in the air. Lucius' nostrils flare as he looks Mr Weasley up and down derisively.

"Good Lord, Arthur," he says softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

You bristle, but Fudge, who conveniently wasn't listening, says, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"Trying to save a spot for when you go barmy, are you, Lucius?" you say with a sweet smile. "Or...has that process already started?"

His sour face turns to you, looking down his nose at you. "I would watch my tongue if I were you. I'm sure there's no lack of teachers for Hogwarts."

Ah, Lucius Malfoy. Always threatening my job, the sweetheart.

"Now, now, there's no need for heated words..." Fudge intervenes and you throw on a bright, charming smile.

"Not to worry, Minister! Why, myself and Lucius are old chums from school, aren't we? We're only bantering."

Lucius fails to hide his disgust. "Yes, old...chums."

"Well, isn't that just wonderful? And I'm sure you're close considering your...marital ties!" Fudge says awkwardly, eyeing you warily.

You sigh. "What an astute observation, Cornelius."

"We better get to our seats," Lucius sneers, and Narcissa and Draco follow behind them. Narcissa gives you and almost imperceptible nod and you glance at McGonagall from the corner of your eye.

She pulls out your tickets, glancing down at the seat numbers again.

"Looks like we've still got a ways to go," she says and you nod, smiling at your students and Mr Weasley.

"Alright, enjoy yourselves!" You say cheerfully.

They all say their goodbyes and the two of you set off again, finally reaching your seats among the crowd.

It's a good thing you found it too, because as soon as you sit into your seats, Ludo Bagman's voice suddenly booms over the excited chatter. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...WELCOME TO THE FINAL OF THE FOUR-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SECOND QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!"

Everyone screams and claps and you share an excited grin with McGonagall. The scoreboard lights up to show: IRELAND: 0, BULGARIA: 0.

"AND NOW, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE...THE BULGARIAN NATIONAL TEAM MASCOTS!"

"I've read about these," McGonagall says beside you, flicking open her programme. You glance over at it, before returning your eyes to the pitch.

A stream of beautiful women emerge, dancing elegantly around the pitch. You watch as they dance and twirl and spin, all to the delight of the crowd, particularly the men. They're practically drooling.

Beside you, a woman is angrily tapping her heel while her husband ogles the dancing Veela, entranced.

The Veela dance faster and faster, spinning and twirling, their hair flowing in the air behind them. Another man not far from you looks like he's about to jump into the stadium from his high seat.

Then they stop.

Everyone around you seems to be rather dazed and confused. Angry yells and shouts rise from the stadium. The crowd didn't want the Veela to go.

You begin to wonder whether the Veela is really ethical, considering the amount of men you can see taking off their shamrock hats and Irish flags. You pull the flag tighter around your body, like a blanket.

"AND NOW," Ludo Bagman roars, "KINDLY PUT YOUR WANDS IN THE AIR...FOR THE IRISH NATIONAL TEAM MASCOTS!"

You grin excitedly, clapping furiously as a steady beat starts from a group of men holding bodhráns at the Irish corner of the pitch. Two large spheres of light appear in the air, gleaming and shining. They spin rapidly towards opposite goalposts, before a rainbow appears and moves in an arc to connect the two dots of light. They rise to form a large, glittering green shamrock, and the crowd begins to cry out in delight as what looks like gold coins begins to rain down from it.

You cry out when a few coins painfully hit against your head, colliding with the soft skin. You rub the sore areas, scowling. You glance at McGonagall, checking if she's had the same problem, to find she has conjured up an umbrella for herself and is holding it above her head, deflecting the lethal coins. She looks very unimpressed.

Everyone around you is in bits, gleefully gathering up the shiny gold objects. One woman in front of you is stretching her shirt and making it into some sort of makeshift basket, collecting the coins there. A few fall into your lap and you pick one up, bringing it closer to your eye to inspect it. It's clearly fake — it doesn't have the same indentations as a regular galleon. There are going to be some very disappointed spectators here later.

Then, to your delight, a line of Irish dancers spill onto the pitch, their feet a flurry of movement beneath them, all in perfect sync. They dance and spin and twirl and kick high, spinning around the field before settling finally as the bodhráns stop and they return to the side of the field, sitting to watch the match.

"AND NOW, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, KINDLY WELCOME THE BULGARIAN NATIONAL QUIDDITCH TEAM! I GIVE YOU — DIMITROV!"

A scarlet figure on a broomstick darts out onto the field at an incredible speed, to the raucous applause of the Bulgarian supporters.

"IVANOVA! ZOGRAF! LEVSKI! VULCHANOV! Volkov! AAAAAAND — KRUM!"

The scarlet players zip around the field, raising their arms triumphantly to the crowd of white, green and red Bulgarian flags.

"AND NOW, PLEASE GREET THE IRISH NATIONAL QUIDDITCH TEAM!" yells Bagman. "PRESENTING...CONNOLLY! RYAN! TROY! MULLET! MORAN! QUIGLEY! AAAAAAND — LYNCH!"

Seven green blurs zip out onto the field and you cheer as loud as you can, waving your flag in the air. Excitement has properly settled over you now at the prospect of the good Quidditch game ahead.

"AND HERE, ALL THE WAY FROM EGYPT, OUR REFEREE, ACCLAIMED CHAIRWIZARD OF THE INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF QUIDDITCH, HASSAN MOSTAFA!"

A small, skinny wizard, completely bald with a moustache, wearing robes of gold strides out onto the pitch. He's carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, and his broomstick under the other. He mounts his broomstick and kicks the crate open — four balls burst into the air; the Quaffle, the two dark Bludgers and the miniscule, winged Golden Snitch. He lets out a sharp blast from his whistle, and fires into the air after the balls.

"THEY'RE OFF!" screams Bagman. "AND IT'S MULLET! TROY! MORAN! DIMITROV! BACK TO MULLET! TROY! LEVSKI! MORAN!"

The speed of the players is unbelievable — they zip around the field, throwing the Quaffle with such speed you'd think they were playing hot potato. Actually, that reminds you of a time when the lads decided to play a game of hot potato — with an actual hot potato. James had launched it at Sirius' face and you had spent the evening running his cheek under cold water, which resulted in a very put-out wet dog.

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

1976

"Love, I'm sure we've been here long enough — "

"Fifteen minutes, Sirius! Fifteen. You should count yourself lucky I'm even doing this considering how stupid you have to be to even play that in the first place — "

"Come on, it was just a bit of fun — "

You point the tap at his mouth for a second and he blubbers dramatically.

"Not so fun now, huh?"

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

1993

"TROY SCORES!" roars Bagman, and you're plucked out of your memory to let out a loud cheer in delight. McGonagall jumps in her seat, just as happy, clapping her hands rapidly. "TEN-ZERO TO IRELAND!"

Troy does a lap of honour around the field and you gleefully hoist your flag in the air, waving it enthusiastically. Across the field, the Irish dancers cast glittering green shamrocks above each of their heads with their wands.

Within ten minutes, the Irish team have scored twice more. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, are whacking the Bludgers as hard as possible at the Irish Chasers, forcing them to abandon some of their best moves and formations. Ivanova manages to break through Ireland's ranks and score Bulgaria's first goal.

The Veela start to dance again as a celebration, and you wait impatiently for them to stop their enchantment and for the game to resume.

"DIMITROV! LEVSKI! DIMITROV! IVANOVA — OH, I SAY!" roars Bagman.

The crowd lets out a collective gasp as both Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummet through the centre of the Chasers, splitting them. They're neck and neck, speeding faster and faster towards the ground —

At the last second, Krum pulls up sharply and spirals off. Lynch, however, hits the ground with a dull thud that can be heard throughout the stadium. A groan is heard from the Irish supporters.

"What an excellent feint!" McGonagall comments, in awe. "Pity Lynch didn't realise."

You hum in agreement. "One of the oldest tricks in the book!"

"IT'S TIME-OUT!" yells Bagman. "AS TRAINED MEDIWIZARDS HURRY ONTO THE FIELD TO EXAMINE AIDAN LYNCH!"

The wizards hurry out onto the field, carrying medical bags with them. They sit Lynch up, giving him cups of potion to revive him. He finally gets up, much to the delight of the Irish supporters, and returns to the air on his broomstick.

Fifteen minutes of rapid playing, Ireland pulls ahead by ten more goals. You blink, missing an altercation between the two teams, causing Mostafa to give a sharp, shrill blow of his whistle.

"AND MOSTAFA TAKES THE BULGARIAN KEEPER TO TASK FOR COBBING — EXCESSIVE USE OF ELBOWS!" Bagman informs. "AND — YES, IT'S A PENALTY TO IRELAND!"

The Veela leap to their feet, tossing their hair angrily, and start to dance again. You watch as Mostafa has landed right in front of the dancing women, and is acting very odd. He's flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

You can't help but laugh, watching as he winks at the Veela, though he's unable to wink with one eye so he just...blinks at them.

"NOW, WE CAN'T HAVE THAT!" says Bagman, though he sounds very amused. "SOMEBODY SLAP THE REFEREE!"

A mediwizard streaks across the field, his fingers in his ears, and delivers a harsh kick to Mostafa's shins. He seems to snap out of his daze and starts to yell furiously at the Veela.

"AND UNLESS I'M MUCH MISTAKEN, MOSTAFA IS ACTUALLY ATTEMPTING TO SEND OF THE BULGARIAN MASCOTS!" Bagman cries. "NOW, THERE'S SOMETHING WE HAVEN'T SEEN BEFORE...THIS COULD TURN NASTY..."

It does: members of the Bulgarian team land beside Mostafa, furiously arguing with the referee. You see them point accusingly at the Irish side, whose bodhrán-wielding musicians have enchanted the covers to spell out "HA HA HA". Mostafa doesn't appear impressed, however, and is jabbing his finger in the air frantically, as if to tell the players to get back in the air.

"TWO PENALTIES FOR IRELAND!" yells Bagman and the Bulgarian crowd yells in anger. "AND VOLKOV AND VULCHANOV HAD BETTER GET BACK ON THOSE BROOMS, YES...THERE THEY GO...AND TROY TAKES THE QUAFFLE..."

The play just gets more and more ferocious.

"FOUL!"

"FOUL!"

You watch as, enraged, the Veela burst from their position and appear to be throwing handfuls of fire at the Irish mascots. Their faces are elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads and long, scaly wings are bursting forth from their shoulders.

"Oh, Merlin!" McGonagall exclaims.

Ministry wizards flood onto the field to separate the fighting Veela and the Irish mascots but with little success.

"LEVSKI — DIMITROV — MORAN — TROY — MULLET — IVANOVA — MORAN AGAIN — MORAN SCORES!"

The Irish cheers are barely heard over the chaos below, blasts are now coming from both the Veela and the Ministry wizards. Quigley launches a Bludger hard at Viktor Krum's face, seeming to break his nose. Blood gushes from his nose but Mostafa barely notices, too occupied with the furious Veela and the end of his broomstick which has now caught alight from one of their fireballs.

Then, you spot Lynch zipping through the air, seemingly in pursuit of something — the Snitch! But it's not long before Krum notices and takes after him at such a tremendous speed you can barely keep up. They hurtle towards the ground once more and you hope and pray that this isn't another feint from Krum and that Lynch'll pull up in time...but your prayers go unanswered and Lynch barrels into ground once more. You groan, watching as Krum lifts up, simultaneously raising his right hand, which was bunched tightly around the Golden Snitch.

The scoreboard flashes brightly, showing: IRELAND: 170, BULGARIA: 160.

The crowd erupts into incredible cheers and screams and you grin, raising your arms high in triumph.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouts. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS — good Godric, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

The Irish teams lands and dance gleefully around their mascots, as their dancers spin and twirl, throwing green and gold confetti around them. Flags are waved all around the stadium, the Irish national anthem blaring from all sides.

"AND, AS THE IRISH TEAM PERFORMS A LAP OF HONOUR, THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP ITSELF IS BROUGHT INTO THE TOP BOX!" Bagman roars.

You turn to the scoreboard, which has now taken on the form of the top box to allow everyone to see inside. The large, gleaming, gold cup is handed to Cornelius Fudge.

"LET'S HAVE A REALLY LOUD HAND FOR THE GALLANT LOSERS — BULGARIA!" Bagman bellows.

You clap your hands, joining the crowd in polite applause, as a very dejected Bulgarian team files into the box. Bagman calls out each of their names and they all shake hands with their own minister and then Fudge. Krum is nursing two black eyes on his bloody face, lumbering towards the two ministers. The crowd erupts into an ear-splitting roar when his name is called out.

Then comes the Irish team: Lynch is being held up by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seems to have rendered him much more dazed and confused. He grins happily as Troy and Quigley raise the Cup into the air and the crowd thunders its approval.

The team leaves the box, doing a victory lap around the stadium, and you gather up your things and stand.

"What a great match!" McGonagall exclaims. "Well worth the trip!"

You grin in agreement, and the two of you leave the stadium along with the crowd. High-spirited singing carries through the air, the Irish supporters rife with merriment and celebration as the two of your return to your campsite. A campsite next to yours has lit their fire again, and someone has produced a fiddle while the rest dance jovially. You grin, grabbing McGonagall's hand and pulling her towards the festivities. She seems reluctant, giving you a bit of a surprised expression, before she joins you in dancing around the fire mirthfully. You swap partners with another man and she fails to conceal her laughter as he twirls her around gleefully.

You find yourself with a woman, a long braid falling from her head to her ankles, who leads you in a jig around the fire. Finally, when yourself and McGonagall have tuckered out, you bid your goodbyes to the lively strangers and return to your tent.

McGonagall sits down at the little table, sighing contentedly.

"Tea, Minnie?" you ask, setting the teapot down on the table and grabbing your cup, pausing to ask her the question. You're a bit wary of calling her that, but your mood is so light that you find yourself not worrying about it.

"Please," she replies. She lets out a small, surprised chuckle and says, "Minnie."

"Has no one ever called you that?" You place a cup in front of her and sit down, opening the latch on the pot and prodding the teabags with a spoon.

"Only my husband, and my mother," she answers. "It has been quite a while since I've heard it."

"I'm sorry if I overstepped," you say sheepishly. "I won't call you that."

She doesn't answer you, eyes focused on the flame of the candle between you. Then she meets your eyes, a small smile playing on her lips, "No, do. We're friends, aren't we?"

You positively beam at her, honoured at the privilege she's just given you. You don't say anything in response, for fear of getting that privileged revoked.

After a while, you pour the tea out from the pot, grabbing milk from the tent's fridge and placing it on the table as well.

"Thank you for bringing me along, by the way," you say.

She smiles, waving you off. "Thank you for coming. I would have been very bored without you. And — though Bagman is a fine commentator, I think you would have been the better choice."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I'm honoured you think that but...probably not."

"Do you ever miss it?"

"What, commentating? Yeah, I guess. It was pretty fun — "

"School. Do you miss it?"

You shrug. "I go back every year."

She sighs, giving you a knowing look. "Do you miss the time when you attended school?"

Miss it? Of course you miss it. That's like asking a prisoner 'do you miss the time before your imprisonment?'

"All the time," you reply softly. "It was the best time of my life."

There's a brief silence, before Minnie says, "I never thought you were mad, by the way. I know many make you out to be, but I've never thought it. When I look at you, I see an incredibly strong woman — perhaps a bit stubborn — but nonetheless an extremely intelligent woman, a woman well-worth listening to — and I fear you haven't been listened to enough in your life."

You don't even know what to say, you were not expecting that. You can't find the words at all, so you just look dumbly back at her and open and close your mouth repeatedly.

"I...I don't know what to say. You're amazing."

She chuckles, seemingly taken-aback, and just smiles again before setting down her empty cup and standing.

"Time for bed, I think. Goodnight."

You smile, sipping the last of your tea. "Goodnight, Minnie."

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→→ read chapter fifteen here!

*bodhrán: a drum used in Irish music

also, I changed the Irish mascots to be dancers instead of leprechauns, just because personally I find leprechauns to be a poor representation of Irish culture and never liked it in the books/movies!!

a big big thank you to my taglist loved for all their constant kindness and support:

@izuoyarmin @carpe00diem @wholelottalove05 @hyperspeedo

→ please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!

[the-nettle-knight]

Prince Caspian rewatch notes:

-Caspian has a sun on his chemise and Ray like embroidery, which I feel like is a parallel to Peter and a symbol of Caspian's destiny to take on Peter's mantle

- Also a possible reference to Aslan, perhaps it's Dr Cornelius' influence or a suggestion that there might be more part Narnian (or Archen) servants in Miraz's castle

-Caspian's naivety about Miraz's intentions may have been more believable if Ben Barnes wasn't in his mid 20s

-When Trumpkin first sees Caspian he's very obviously got a rubber knife

-Susan is reading a copy of the Picture Post that was published on December 9th 1939 featuring a photo of a girl in the Land Army, so as this was probably 1941 this is an old issue

-This definitely shows her practical and logical nature and might suggest that her role as Queen in Narnia may have focused on the practical elements of farming, land management, supplying their armies etc

- There are at least four schools shown in the Underground scene, St Finbars, Hendon House, a boy's school with a red uniform and a possibly mixed sex school with a grey uniform

-St Finbars' crest is a varient on the Tudor Rose - a lot of the Narnian leather belts/straps have rose motifs

-Hendon house has a cross with three stars over it, which also feels very Narnian and looks quite knightly

-Cair Paravel's ruins look to be in pretty good shape for being 1000s of years old. In our world, when a castle is abandoned, people tend to repurpose the stones and timbers. However, due to the Telmarines' superstition they probably left it completely alone

-There's a big wild rose bush covering the ruins, adding to the rose motif

-Susan is the only one who's throne is partially intact, and she's the only one who survives the series

-On the Telmarine Lord's thrones there is a sigil of their mask-helmet over a horizontal spear with a a personalised image beneath. Miraz has tentacles wrapping around shields, probably a nod to their piratical origins

-Lucy's dress sleeves look like an odd length, as if they were 3/4 length sleeves on a taller person

-Peter Dinklige's accent has definitely improved by the time GoT comes round

- The fact that Cornelius is a doctor suggests that there is a university somewhere in the wider Narnian world to award such a title

-I really like the fact that Edmund and Susan basically have their heads right next to each other

-The trees that move first for Lucy are silver birches. They're one of the last trees to loose their leaves in the winter and they start to bud relatively early

[metmuseum]

Virgin and Child with Infant St. John the Baptist. 17th century. Credit line: Gift of Cornelius Vanderbilt, 1880 https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/342129