#definition of witchcraft

[thelionesswitchblog]

Witchcraft and Her History

See helpful terms and definitions below The definition of witchcraft varies widely among historians, practitioners, and throughout history. Google states that Witchcraft is “the practice of magic, especially for evil purposes”; Google goes on to state that, in a modern context, Witchcraft is “a religious practice involving magic and an affinity with nature, usually within a pagan…

[kingstarkingslay]

Remus : ( quietly) Sirius…………

Sirius : ( looking up from his book ) Yes my darling wolf

Remus : ( fiddling with his hands ) um…

Remus : if you were an otter and I was an otter and we were sleeping

Remus : would you hold my paw so we wouldn’t drift away from each other?

Sirius : ( melts on the spot )

Sirius : yes I would my darling

[samwisethewitch]

REVIEW: Backwoods Witchcraft by Jake Richards

I feel like Jake Richards's books are pretty popular with folk witches. If you have any interest in Appalachian folk magic, or even American folk magic more generally, you've probably at least heard of this book. Part of why I put off reviewing it for so long is because I feel like there's already been plenty of attention given to it online, so I'll try to make this brief.

Pros:

Definitely authentic Appalachian folk magic. Jake Richards writes about a lot of things I've seen people do or heard people talk about but never seen written anywhere.

This book is really well researched! I'm very impressed by all the references and footnotes.

I love that Richards uses the correct Tsalagi (Cherokee), Gaelige (Irish), and Gaelic (Scottish) words when talking about the cultures that influence Southern folk magic. I also love that he includes pronunciation guides.

Cons:

I didn't finish this book on my first read. It wasn't until I revisited it recently that I actually read to the end. Something about the writing style and the way the book is organized made it a little hard to follow at times, at least for me.

The research is generally good, but there's definitely more detail given for European and Cherokee cultural influences than for African. When talking about European influences, Richards will usually specify the specific country or culture something comes from, but for African influences he just says "African." While this research is harder to do because the slave trade intentionally cut people off from their cultural traditions, other authors like Luisah Teish and Stephanie Rose Bird have shown that we can often trace these African influences back to a specific culture, or at least a region. I would have liked to see the same level of effort put into researching African practices that went into the European ones.

Other Observations:

Christianity is a big part of the author's practice. This is faithful to traditional Appalachian conjure, but just know that it may be triggering if you've experienced religious trauma in a Christian setting. I found this book harder to read than other books on conjure that incorporate Christian elements, and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because it sounded too similar to the Appalachian church where my abuse happened? Just something to be aware of if this is a tricky topic for you.

Overall Rating: 4/5 stars

[savingsallow]

‼️NEW MC ALERT‼️👀

— he shares the same brain cell with val 🤪

[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 6: A Quidditch Rivalry𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Chapter 5 (previous)

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 2.7K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: Professor Sprout requests that you help Cedric out and befriend him. You meet him in the library and things don't go as planned

Notes: Please comment anything I should change to improve this. Also, I am not British so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK.

Content warning: A lot of curing.

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDITS TO ME!

...

“No.”

Professor Sprout sputtered, “Mr. (Surname)—”

“I said no,” you spat, despite how disrespectful that was, “I don’t want to be associated with him anymore! I know I agreed to partnering with him for Herbology, but look how well that went. I’m sorry but you’re quite mistaken if you believe we ever got along.” And with that, you turned on your heel and walked off

“Mr. (Surname)! Please calm down and listen,” she said, running after you. For a teacher, she didn’t have much authority, “I care about my students-”

“No you don’t. You only care about the Hufflepuffs and those who take interest in herbology. But not me. Why would you? I’m just this silly little Slytherin who loathes your beloved Cedric Diggory.”

“Of course I care about you!” Professor Sprout said, “I hold all of the students close to my heart whether you know it or not.”

You stop and swivel around to face her, “Then why do you want me to spend time helping the person I despise most in the school? If you really wanted the “best for us”, you wouldn’t want us clashing again.”

A short silence passed between the two of you. The stout woman sighed, “Sometimes, what’s best for someone isn’t evident.”

“What do you mean?” You huffed, your confusion and irritation obvious.

“We can’t have the top students in Year 6 constantly butting heads. It’s not even friendly competition; both you and Mr. Diggory are constantly at each other's throats, whether it’s helpful to the situation at hand or whether it bothers everyone!” She explained, “And now that you are 6th Years, you hold so much more influence over your houses. Every corner I turn, it seems that no one gets along if they’re from different houses!”

You frown, perplexed at what she was talking about. Maybe it was because you stuck close to your group and didn’t bother venturing to make new friends, but you’d never seen any conflict between Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. 

“I’m not actually aware of this, Professor.”

“Of course you’re not! You’re so engrossed in your rivalry with Cedric that you don’t notice how the problem’s spreading around campus,” Professor Sprout attempted to keep her voice soft as usual but it held a twinge of annoyance, “Now it’s time to grow up and forgive each other.”

You looked away, a bit irritated yet understanding where she came from. “Apologies, but I don’t like him enough to try and solve whatever’s going on. And, anyways, it’s been going on for a while, so it's kind of hard to forgive.”

“Well, do you even know how this whole deal started?” She asked.

The question made you pause, attempting to recall what caused you to hate him. You racked through your brain to find the root of the problem or even an interaction between the two of you before the start of your rivalry but your mind was blank. 

“I-I don’t know, Professor, it just seemed to always be that way.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“You don’t even know the root of your problem and look at how your relationship with him turned out!” Professor Sprout responded, then more kindly, “It’s unfortunate; Cedric — Mr. Diggory — is a kind lad, and you two could have gotten along quite well. What a duo you would have made.”

“And…you’re saying that kids younger than us are fighting because of us?”

“Yes, that’s the main issue.”

“Oh. So I have to…talk to him nicely to fix this?”

“Well,” Professor Sprout chuckled, “It’s a tad bit more complicated than that, but in theory, it could work. And who knows, you might even make a friend…or more.”

You gave her a slightly judgemental look but didn’t confront her on anything, “Did Diggory agree to this or…?”

“Well, actually, I visited him right after the first task and he was the one that came to me for help. Not specifically for your help but he was never very good at puzzles and I thought that you could use this opportunity to make up. He found it an excellent idea.” She beamed.

The fact that Diggory thought of it as a good idea to speak to you was suspicious but Professor Sprout tended to be a little positive when summarising things so you didn’t think much of it. But your mind wandered to the kiss you shared at the party. The one that kept you up at night.

“Fine,” you sighed, giving in, “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” You nodded apprehensively. “Fantastic! I’ll schedule a date with him and inform you then. Thank you so much, (Name)—Mr. (Surname). Sorry! I have to go now, so I wish you a safe return to your dorm or wherever you may be heading.”

You smiled and waved her goodbye as she slowly backed away.

At around 6 PM, she came to you as you were looking for a book at the library. She informed you that Cedric wished to figure out the egg’s secret as quickly as possible, so they scheduled the meeting for tomorrow afternoon.

For the rest of the day, all night, and the next morning, you pondered on what you were going to say to him and felt generally nervous about the interaction. 

Your thoughts wandered to the kiss back at the party. It’s been over two months, and you still had it stuck in your head like a catchy song. Maybe you two could’ve been friends if not for the entire rivalry thing. Or more. The back of your neck grew warm at the thought. You quickly shook it out of your head.

As per usual, you informed Winnie (who reacted rather pleasantly to the news), Brian (who started theorizing the other possible reasons why Diggory wanted to meet with you) and Elsie (whom you felt you could trust and joined Brian in his speculation). 

You didn’t inform Alistair, though. You hadn’t forgiven him for his rudeness after the first Task of the Triwizard Tournament and generally didn’t feel you could trust him with something like this. He always seemed to dislike Cedric more than you ever had and never handled his emotions well.

So after class, you bade Winnie goodbye as you headed to the library where you expected Cedric to be.

You found him sitting in a corner by himself, back to the window where the glass rattled, the shimmering golden egg on the table next to a book he was reading. On the table lay a pile of books. You recognized a few about riddles and old treasures. Diggory seemed focused on the novel in front of him, hand in his hair. 

He looked so calm, so at ease, that you nearly forgot that you were supposed to hate him. Nearly.

The handsome Hufflepuff looked up as you approached him. His face was blank, but his eyes seemed to glare daggers into your own, taking you aback with how much hate was in that gaze. 

Diggory stood up and walked past you, “Follow me.”

You gave his back a perplexed look but followed him nonetheless. “Where are we going? Why aren’t you taking the egg? Answer me, Diggory! This isn’t about wanting to apologise and becoming friends, isn’t it?”

“I’d never be friends with someone like you.”

“Then what do you want?” You replied, slightly peeved at his response, and somewhere in your heart, you felt stupid and betrayed. Of course he wouldn’t be friends with you. “Where are we going? Respond or I’m leaving.”

With that, he swivelled to face you, causing you to nearly bump into him, “I challenge you to a one-on-one Quidditch match.”

You stared him down, finally getting a look at his outfit. What you thought as his school garments were actually his Quidditch uniforms, and with all the hints he gave you, you realised he was leading you to the Quidditch storage rooms where the brooms were kept.

You stepped away, feeling a bit weirded out. Earlier in the year, you would’ve probably accepted his challenge, but now, with the knowledge of the conflict between your houses and the turmoil of emotion clouding your head, you hesitated. And that hesitation gave Diggory the information he needed to get your answer.

“So you’re too scared for a competition?” he snarled.

“No, I’m just being logical.” you huffed, peeved, “It’s a tempest outside. Too dangerous to use our brooms.”

“So what? I don’t mind the extra difficulty.” Diggory looked you up and down, a cocky look in his eyes, “But it seems you do.”

The challenge triggered something in you, “I never said I refused. Get ready to get your ass beat, Diggory.” You spat his name at him and brushed past him to go to the Quidditch storage where you knew they kept extra brooms. Whatever hope of fixing the problems with the Houses vanished from your mind.

You were going to crush that motherfucker.

You grabbed your old broom — which you had given to the school for their own use — and stomped to the back door the Quidditch players used to leave unnoticed by other students. Along the way, you passed little to no students, most locked up in their dorms, cosying up by the fire as they watched the storm pass.

As you expected, Diggory was waiting for you, a confident look in his striking grey eyes. “You regret quitting, (Surname)?” he asked, eyeing you up and down.

Since you quit the team, you renounced your Quidditch uniform and stuffed it in the back of your closet back home instead of throwing it out. Maybe one of your cousins would grow up to love Quidditch. Who knows?

But now, you regretted your decision not to bring it to Hogwarts as you stood in your school cloak and warm uniform.

You huffed, “I’ll only regret if I lose to you, Diggory. Which would never happen, no matter how we play this game.” After a short yet intense pause, you added, “How do we do this with only two players?”

“Good question,” he said with a smirk and pulled out a small golden ball, “The goal isn’t to score points but to catch the Snitch. But for a little extra challenge, we also have to avoid the Bludgers.” He patted a case next to him.

A bead of sweat ran down your neck, and you silently gulped down your nervousness. “Sounds like you put the odds in your favour. Can’t wait to see the look on your face when I obliterate you.”

Diggory clicked his tongue, brows furrowing slightly as he pushed the backdoor open.

A gust of wind bludgeoned through, causing you to block your face with your arm. Rain splattered you in the face, and you turned it from the entrance.

“Are you sure this is safe, Diggory?” You asked, hesitant.

He handed you big goggles and put his own on his face. “An Impervius spell has been cast on them, so you’ll be able to see.” As you grabbed it, he added with a sly grin, “I can’t be beating you that easily.”

You shot him a glare as you put the goggles on your head. It certainly helped against the beating rain, but you kept flinching when it touched your face. You hated playing in shitty weather.

Diggory stepped outside, and you followed, closing the door behind you. You had to slow it so it would slam loudly.

Once the two of you were in the middle of the court, you got onto your brooms, and Diggory released the Snitch, keeping it in his line of sight until it zoomed behind him. As the case where the Bludgers rattled, you felt your heart rate increase; never had you felt unsafe playing Quidditch — there was always a professor around and Slytherin Beaters having your back — but now, the vastness of the court and unseen danger of it all frightened you.

“Three. Two. One.” Cedric counted over the blasting wind.

“Go!”

Then the both of you took off.

You scanned the court for the minuscule ball of gold that circled the arena — which was difficult because of how foggy and rainy it was but mostly kept away from Diggory. That was until he flew right next to you.

“I’m going to release the Bludgers. Be careful.” He yelled over the roaring wind and pulled out his wand, heading away from you. Your stomach dropped as he said those words; you had secretly wished he had forgotten about them.

Despite the tempest around you, you somehow heard the chains of the Bludger case falling and the sound of them zooming in the air in search of you. You let out an unconscious whimper and gripped your broom tighter, heart pounding your chest.

The rain drenched your clothes and skin, sticking your hair and uniform to your skin. The roaring wind reminded you of a howling pack of wolves: hungry and ready to take what they wished to feast on.

Your eyes frantically searched for that flash of gold, eager to get the game over with. It was rather difficult, considering the amount of fog and rain hindering your vision and the wind beating against you and your broom.

You occasionally saw Diggory close to you or heard the sound of a Bludger, but every time that any of the two seemed to approach you too much, you quickly flew to a different area to search for the Golden Snitch as you fought against the harsh winds of the growing storm.

Suddenly, you saw a dark shape in front of you, zooming towards you. A Bludger.

You swerved to the right, barely dodging the ball and willed your broom to fly away as fast as possible. The Bludger chased you across the pitch like a starving lion chasing an injured antelope. 

You rolled to the left, turned to the right, rushed up and dropped down, desperately trying to get away from it. It nearly hit you once, but instead ran into your broom. You hoped it wasn’t damaged. At that point, you had completely forgotten about the Snitch, the beating of your heart against your chest blurring your thoughts. You normally don’t feel this fear. You shouldn’t feel this afraid.

At some point, you’re flying neck to neck with Cedric. Throwing away your pride you yelled at him to put the Bludgers back in their case.

“What, are you scared? You’re backing out this early?” He mocked.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you think; I value my safety. This is certainly not keeping me safe!” You growled, “Put the fucking Bludgers away! Ah!” A gust of wind had pushed you, and you nearly ran into Diggory.

“Safe? The way you’re flying isn’t safe!”

You grunted, trying to keep your broom under control, but for some reason, it was swerving wildly. “I can’t — It’s not doing what I want! What the–” You yelled over the screaming wind, your panic increasing and your stomach dropping.

By now, Diggory had noticed something was actually wrong, and you weren’t fucking with him. “(Surname)! Your broom is broken!” He warned, realising too late that the Bludger probably hit your broom, cracking it.

You swore under your breath, the crazy winds abusing your broom, and the ride suddenly worsened when your broom seemed to stop working altogether, causing you to go spiralling across the arena.

You held onto your broom out of fear as you screamed.

Oh God. Oh God.

You were going to die.

Suddenly, you felt your body jolt. You felt branches whip at your face and limbs, and your right arm felt numb and like jello, but the tree nevertheless caught you and prevented you from hitting the ground, which would have probably killed you instantly.

Your head felt light. You probably hit it when you crashed into the tree.

If this was how death felt like, you wouldn’t mind dying.

You closed your eyes, and it was as if the light in your body was snuffed out, and everything around you turned black.

[lets-do-lesbianisms]

(Its goddamn 23: 38 and i just thought of some dumb shit again)

*sirus is cleaning Remus's new scars after a full moon. He had a bun pierced with a wand*

Sirius: How do you feel?

Remus: *sarcastically* like i could shit rainbows and unicorns.

Sirius: My fault for asking that.

[slyterinthings]

*Ravenclaw enters the room*

Slytherin: Bitch.

Ravenclaw:

Ravenclaw: Remind me, why am I friends with you again?

Slytherin: Because whenever you whip out questionable stuff, I never ask why you have them or where you get them from.

Ravenclaw: *sighs* ofcourse

[yuri-is-online]

A Pocket Full of Posies and WTF is up with Rollo's Hankie

Before we begin, a slight disclaimer: yes, Medieval beliefs about disease and how it spread were weird. They did not have the ability to know about germs because those are literally microscopic and germ theory would not be "discovered" until the 1860s. THIS DID NOT MEAN THEY WERE STUPID AND IF I SEE YOU SAYING THAT WE WILL FIGHT. Anyway-

If you have been kicking around on the internet for a bit, chances are you might have heard the "dark history" fact that that the "Ring Around the Rosey" nursery rhyme is about the Black Plague. That's probably not true but the reason it was originally theorized to be the case has to do with Miasma theory, and the use of strong scents (typically herbs and flowers) to ward off the "bad air." What does this have to do with Rollo huffing that handkerchief every time someone talks about magic? Well we'll get there but first just what the hell do I mean by bad air?

Miasma Theory in Practice

The Black Death/Bubonic Plague was a roving pandemic that gets it's name from the first wave that bitch slapped Europe from 1347-1351. There were technically three forms of plague kicking around by I am not a scientist and we are here to talk about that. Given that this was, as stated in the disclaimer, pre-germ theory the ideas people had about why this was happening and how to prevent it wildly varied, but Miasma Theory was so popular it actually stuck around long enough to duke it out with Germ Theory when scientists started talking about that.

The basic idea is that diseases like the Black Death were spread from bad smelling air. This theory was proposed by Hippocrates, as in that guy from third or fourth century Greece we aren't even sure existed, but it was a pretty universal belief, we have sources from Ancient China that also reference the idea that bad smells can make you sick. This "bad air" was thought to come from decay; in the case of the plague, dead bodies were believed to have released it (hence all the "bring out your dead" stuff), as were cracks in the earth, and sewage. ALL AIR WAS THOUGHT TO HAVE A LEVEL OF MIASMA, but smell was the best way to tell if you were in danger of getting sick; basically if it smells like shit out then you are in danger because there is only so much of it you can breathe in before you get sick. So when you end 1351 with 40% (that we can confirm!) of the population dead, how exactly do you keep yourself from huffing in all that invisible miasma?

Roi du Mouchoir

Well you make the air you breathe smell nicer of course! And this is where we get to Rollo's hankie.

The "posies" in that nursery rhyme doesn't actually refer to one specific flower. It's a type of small bouquet, which apparently are also called nosegays or tussie-mussies? It's also the technical term for those tiny groups of flowers that make up a corsage. The idea was that people would carry around things that smelled good, like flowers and herbs, and any time you smelled something bad you would bring the flower out of your pocket and hold it up to your nose just like Rollo does with his handkerchief. Literally, people usually kept those nice smelling flowers in "Plague Bags," which could refer to nicely sewn sachets or just neatly wrapped up in cloth. Eventually these got super fancy, and evolved into these really elaborate pouches people put potpourri in, but given how strict Rollo seems to be with himself (and everyone else) I've chosen in my own fan fic to interpret his posies as being the common kind, which would be rosemary and lavender. Today they are thought of as being soothing scents that calm you down, and that does seem to be what he is trying to do with all those deep breaths.

I got a lot of this specific information from this article here which is on a wonderful website curated by a professional perfumer I highly recommend poking around if you are interested in learning more.

Cool Story But?

"Sure Yuri, all of that is neat but isn't Rollo's handkerchief a reference to Esmeralda's scarf?" Yeah probably. I don't really think it has to be that deep, but I do think this stuff is cool and well-

Malleus's name is likely a reference to the Malleus Malificarum, a book I have a PDF of on my computer because of course I do that was published around the same time that this theory of disease would have been kicking around. It's about- well the author says it's about "witchcraft" but that's another paper for another time, and why they are super evil and bad and should all die. Specifically why they should all be burned at the stake, it's a fun read. And sounding oddly familiar to certain events...

That's all to say, sure it probably isn't that deep but with all the other really well researched and designed character choices, I would not be surprised if it was.

Semi Unrelated Fun Facts:

Bridal Bouquets are thought to have started, in part, as a way to ward off Miasma and keep the bride healthy on her wedding day.

Miasma theory was still super popular in the Victorian Era and lead to a lot of public clean up projects as people thought that they could get rid of disease if they got rid of all the sewage everywhere. And hey they were right, just not for the reason they thought they were.

Yes a lot of people thought the Black Plague was a punishment from God and a sign of the end times. I will remind you that 40-60% of Europe's population DIED IN FOUR YEARS. I'd assume something supernatural was out to get me too tf? Seriously these people were not stupid, they just lived in interesting times.

If you are wondering "hey I heard Plague Doctors stuffed herbs in the long beaks on their masks, is this why?" Yeah it is! Gold star!

I love you for making this far, thank you for listening to me friend and I hope to get back to entertaining you soon (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

[inkydiamonds]

I saw Scott's deer skull mask and I had to draw it.

[mo0ns-and-stars]

If Sirius is Padfoot then Regulus is Pawprint.

[ravenclawh0re18]

Slytherin: Are you reading fan fiction? Ravenclaw, reading an article about extremely rare diseases: Wh- No. Slytherin: Oh, is it on AO3? Ravenclaw: This is CNN.

[yourwitchjay]

dude my day is fucking jacked

I've been blasting the vengeance saga since the watch party, my fyp is FLODDED with marauders angst as per halloween, rise of the order starts, I've done a lot of samhain deity work AND I'm doing a bunch of rituals to communicate with spirits with my friends, I get to dress up and it's okay, I get to see a bunch of hot gay ppl in costumes, I'm watching halloween movies

and after allllll of that the set it off remake come out tomorrow!

AND IM EXPECTED TO BE NORMAL AND FUNCTION AND GO TO CLASS?!?!

edit: OMG I FORGOT ABIUT THE NEW HELLUVA BOSS EPISODE I JUST SAW IT BUT IM STILL IN CLASS IMMA LOSE IT

[kingstarkingslay]

Desi James who grew up watching Bollywood movies, those movies shaping his view of the world, teaching him that love was dramatic, often messy, but ultimately worth fighting for

Desi James who grew up watching Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, daydreaming about going on an epic road trip with Sirius, Remus, and Peter cause he relates way too much to the trio of friends in the movie

Desi James who grew up watching Dil Chahta Hai and completely shaping his view on friendship and life based on that movie. He lives for that carefree, "let’s take on the world together" attitude

Desi James who grew up watching Kal Ho Naa Ho, always believing that life is too short to waste time on regrets

Desi James who grew up watching Om Shanti Om and the first time he met Regulus, Ajab Si started playing in his head

Desi James who grew up watching Bollywood movies.

[max05nb]

An echo of past wonders in the midnight sky

(read more for old art I redrawn)

Did I improve?

date 2023 march 18th (~2 years ago) :

[savingsallow]

—A Melody Reawakened—

[HCU Christmas Oneshot: featuring Valentine and Callan]

Summary: In the silence of Christmas Eve of 1891 (at Hogwarts), two long-separated childhood friends unexpectedly found solace through a familiar melody.

Pairing: Valentine Black × Callan Gaunt ( @girl-named-matty )

Rating: General Audience

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff (?), Second Chances, Childhood Friends, Sentimental Gifts, Christmas Theme, Fulfilling Promises, Bittersweet Past, Slow Burn, Soulmates.

Content Warning: This story contains themes of childhood trauma, emotional struggles, and feelings of isolation. It explores complex family dynamics and the impact of loneliness during the holiday season. Reader discretion is advised for those sensitive to themes of abandonment and personal loss.

★ word count: 2.1k

There was serene silence that cloaked the corridors of Hogwarts as the holiday spirit echoed softly through the ancient stone walls. It was the Christmas eve of 1891 and most students had already departed to celebrate with their families, laughter and warmth filling homes across the wizarding world and beyond.

Yet not everyone reveled in this joy or feels lucky to be a part of something worth celebrating for. At least that's what our resident Grinch—Valentine Black—felt.

Val never liked the Christmas holidays. 

To be fair, she used to love it not until her uncle Phineas Nigellus Black raised her in a household where she was made to feel invisible and invalid, especially on Christmas.

Gifts? Gifts for Valentine? What is that? I have no idea.

As she wandered through the empty halls of the castle, her heart felt heavy with the quiet solitude that was all too familiar. But then again, there was a sense of freedom that sparked somewhere in the guarded walls of her heart that reminded her that maybe things wouldn't be as bad this time. 

Entering the Slytherin common room, the flickering flames of fire danced cheerfully in the fireplace, casting warm, golden light over the plush green and silver furnishings. The chilly air nipped at the girl's cheeks as she silently wandered through the common room, the dim glow of the fire casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. 

As the Slytherin girl wanders through the space, her gaze drifts to the grand piano nestled in the corner, its polished surface inviting her to escape into her world of music. 

With a soft sigh, she approached the instrument. Taking a seat on the chilly bench, she gently brushed her fingers over the keys and began to play a melody, allowing its familiarity and comfort to wash all over her. Each note resonated with longing and solitude, wrapping her in a cocoon of bittersweet memories; she had loved this song for as long as she could remember.

With most of her housemates gone for the holidays, the solitude wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, yet the absence of festive chatter and laughter left an ache in her chest. The soft notes she played resonated in the stillness, each chord a tender reminder of happier memories. Her heart fluttered as she recalled the faces of her friends, or, as she calls them her 'newfound family.' They may be away for the holidays but Val is happy that they get to spend their time with their loved ones.

'Lucky them,' she mused while a playful smile tugged her lips.

—

Meanwhile, on the other side of the dormitory lies Callan Gaunt staring out of the frosted window, watching the snowflakes swirling playfully in the icy air beyond the glass. 

In the silence, the boy is haunted and tormented by his thoughts—mainly driven by the constant urge to escape his family. A Gaunt by blood, he felt a deep sense of disconnection from his heritage and so does his cousin, Ominis Gaunt, who's situated a few feet away and is already asleep. 

Despite his love to celebrate such an occasion, the boy can't help but feel worried about the possibility that his family would nag him about staying in the castle again. 

'Not like they actually care,' he shrugged.

However, Cal has no ounce of regret left in him about choosing to spend the holidays in the castle. After all, Ominis is staying, so why shouldn't he? 

Amid the boy's war with his mind, a familiar tune echoed into Cal's ears once again, the sound that he had been anxiously trying to search for in the past few days. 

'That sound...' he thought while turning his head in the direction of the music playing.

Intrigued and guided by the melodic echoes, he left the comforting solitude of his room and made his way toward the sound, the thrill of anticipation quickening his pulse.

As he crossed the threshold into the common room, he found Val seated at the piano, her fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys, a serene expression of concentration gracing her features. It was a scene bathed in golden light, illuminated by the flickering fire and the soft glow of enchanted candles lining the walls. 

Cal's heart raced, a mix of nervous energy and admiration flooding his senses. She didn’t notice him at first, so he gathered his courage, sweating under the weight of his shyness.

"You’re… you’re playing my favorite song,” he managed to stammer, stepping cautiously into the room, his heart racing. The tension hung in the air, thick and sweet, but Val's playful nature quickly shattered it.

“Is that so?” she teased, a smirk dancing on her lips. “I didn’t know I had a fan.”

As Val beckoned him closer, he felt a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. “Want to learn how it’s played?” she asked, her voice light and inviting.

As he settled beside her, the tension between them thickened the air like the scent of festive pine. Cal tried to keep his composure as he placed his hands on the keys but fumbled through beginner mistakes. Each misplayed note felt like a betrayal, but the brightness in Val's eyes made him want to try harder. 

“Ah, let’s try that again,” she said, gentle laughter peppering her words. It was more soothing than the song itself. 

They resumed, and with each failure, a palpable tension simmered around them. Each time their hands brushed—his clumsy reach colliding with her nimble grace—his heart raced with a jolt of electricity. Val's laughter danced in the air, each giggle striking something deep within him, and he found himself enchanted.

“Come on, you can do it,” she encouraged, her voice a soothing balm. “You just need to relax.”

“I can’t believe I’m so bad at this,” Cal feigned annoyance, his smile brightening the room. 

Val rolled her eyes playfully, but there was an unspoken weight in the air, something that lingered just beneath their shared laughter. As she leaned closer to demonstrate the next part, the warmth of her presence enveloped him, and he felt a longing to bear his heart surged within him.

For a moment, the laughter faded, and the atmosphere shifted. “You know,” Cal began hesitantly, “I haven’t heard this song in years. Who taught you to play it?” His tone softened, curiosity alight in his eyes.

Val hesitated, her expression growing contemplative as she looked down at her hands resting on the piano. “A friend,” she whispered, her voice dipping as a shadow crossed her features. 

The moment hung heavy between them. He watched as her expression shifted, a veil slipping over her eyes. And in that instant, she opened up slightly, revealing a glimpse of her guarded heart. “After everything happened, it became my comfort when I felt lost.”

Cal felt a pang of longing echo in his chest as she spoke, and he desperately wanted to bridge the gap—to reach the part of her that was still hidden beneath layers of protective armor. “What happened to your friend?” he asked quietly.

Val's fingers hesitated over the keys, emotion pinching her features. “I…I really don't know... One day, my uncle told me that I was not allowed to visit my friend anymore."

Silence enveloped them leaving only the flickering fire and their steady breaths. It was a silence laden with a space of shared vulnerability that made the world outside fade into oblivion.

“Is that why you play?” he asked softly, earning her undivided attention. “To remember?” 

“Yeah,” she replied, the confession of a mere thread of sound. “And to feel less alone.” 

"I think…” Cal started, but the words slipped through his grasp as their hearts raced together in the quiet of that moment. The air crackled with the unfulfilled promise of connection.

“I’m sorry,” Val said suddenly, a mask of uncertainty crossing her features. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” he interrupted, leaning slightly closer, daring the space between them. “No, it’s okay. It feels good to remember. To share.” 

Just then, as if drawn by an unseen force, Cal reached over to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers barely grazed her skin, causing a spark to flit through the air between them. Val's breath caught, and their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes of the unsaid words dancing on the tips of their tongues.

But tragedy struck in a moment of clumsiness; he shifted at the piano, accidentally bumping against the edge, and the necklace nestled beneath his shirt slipped from its hiding place, revealing the emerald ring that hung on a silver chain. He quickly grasped it, but not before she noticed; a gasp escaped Val's lips, curiosity painting her face.

“Where did you get that necklace?” she asked, her voice slightly breathless, eyes wide with curiosity.

“It was a gift from my childhood friend,” Cal shared, trying to keep his voice steady in the heat of vulnerability. “I loved her dearly, and I wanted to keep a piece of her with me.”

She leaned forward slightly, a look of recognition flickering across her face, sending his heart into a wild rhythm. “That's sweet,” Val said with a soft voice, almost like a whisper.

“I wish I had a chance to tell her how much she means to me,” he said, as a few tear drops threatened to spill from beautiful dark brown eyes. “But I never got to say goodbye.”

Val inhaled deeply, summoning courage, and reached into her pocket. A teasing smirk played on her lips as she revealed a music box. “I promised I would return, didn't I?”

Cal's heart raced, memories flooding back to the day in their childhood when he exchanged gifts with Val; they were only five years old when it happened. It was a summer business soiree in the Gaunt Manor when the young versions of themselves met. Their friendship was an instant click and they bonded over their favorite hobbies.

They may never have had the chance to say it to each other (since they were children), but they were both each other's sunshine at that time; they just didn't know it yet. Before their decade-long separation, the two children exchanged sentimental gifts from the people that meant the most to them at that time: the music box from Aunt Noctua and the emerald ring that belonged to the late Mrs. Black. The last words they exchanged were: “Promise you’ll be back?” “I promise."

“You… It was you,” Callan stammered, eyes wide. “You’re the one I gave it to!” 

The air felt electric now, heavy with their memories, and the flames in the fireplace crackled louder as if echoing their discovery. The barriers they had both built around themselves began to crumble in that moment of shared intimacy, like the walls of Hogwarts that sheltered them.

Eventually, they decided to leave the piano behind and find new surroundings in the glow of the soft fire. They settled on the couch, hot cocoa warming their hands as they spoke about everything and nothing, the stories of their childhood merging into the fabric of this special night.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Val confided while looking at him with awe, all her limiting beliefs being proved wrong as she spoke. "Yet here we are."

"Am I dreaming?— This certainly feels like a dream; one I wouldn't dare to wake up," their eyes locked into a gaze full of unsaid words but enough for only the two of them to understand. They both let out a quick laugh as the warmth of the fireplace embraced them.

The next thing they know is that Val found herself resting her head on Cal's shoulder; a gasp of surprise welled up within him, panic mingling with elation. His heart slammed against his ribcage, each beat a reminder of this delicate moment that felt as if it would shatter with the slightest movement.

But Val was warm and secure, and he melted into the moment, letting himself breathe. She felt so right against him, his nerves quieting as they embraced the calm. 

For the first time, the shadows of loneliness began to lift, replaced by the flickering warmth of connection, the promise of something beautiful unfolding between them by the fire’s gentle embrace. 

Who would've thought that after all this time, the person they were searching for was just right in front of them? And it took a cherished shared melody to awaken the memories that their mind had forgotten over the years — but the heart always remembers.

— thank you for reading! 🫂✨

[additional notes]

🥞 i'm not a writer but i have free time and a brain full of ideas 🤪 so if my style ain't your cup of tea, just kindly skedaddle in peace ♡

🥞 non-native english speaker here! so teeny tiny grammatical errors are possible 😅

🥞 this one-shot is written by me: @savingsallow

🥞 coordinated the ideas with: @girl-named-matty ♡

[thecarrionwitch]

PSA to You Witches

The home you live in is to be protected at all cost. I thank Lord Lucifer for letting me know such and reminding me of it because I have these neighbors and they are all their FIFTH strike with me.

Let me list them:

Their dog which is a big dog was loose one good time running up and down the street and I had to tell em. This dog can be heard barking at mine when my lil dog goes outside to potty.

Today I found DOG REPELLENT in my front yard and when I went to check my fencing it was OPEN. not fully but enough for someone to pull on it and open it.

They tossed a two over my fence to get my dogs attention. One I'll be keeping for a specific curse for them.

They don't respect my yard because I had to go to the hospital yesterday and came back in a car that was THEIRS was in MY yard??

They are just destructive and loud and I hate not being able to have a peaceful moment because of all the noise.

As a dark witch, the dog repellent on its own is enough for me to ruin they whole life so it's not an issue to me. Y'all wanna play, imma play harder but don't be crying and whining when all hell breaks loose.

There was actually another time of one of their kids leaving basketballs in my yard and I told em to pick it up. Either way I'm sick of it and imma show em something.

I'm not a nice witch, I'm not a white one either, mess with my peace and imma ruin your whole outlook on your own. IDC and IDGAF.

I have five good spells I worked up last night and when the planets are aligned as I want them imma start but I'm literally irritated and mad. There's no forgiveness here for them.

(likes and comments are nice hehe)

For engagement lemme put this here