#hphm dumbledore

[chocfrog-enjoyer]

Yeah Ben I think you defo could pull it off 👌

[hpshipbattles]

ROUND ONE SHIPS

(keep in mind these are all randomly created from a pool of 64 characters. we are not here to debate dark ships vs light ships, we are here for fun. Feel free to suggest ship names for anything you see)

Lysander Scamander x Remus Lupin (Remsander)

Augustus Rookwood x Elphias Doge (Rookdoge)

Pavarti Patil x Blaise Zabini (Blavarti)

Lorcan Scamander x Septimus Weasley (Septorcan)

Victoire Weasley x Cassandra Vole (Vicsandra)

Neville Longbottom x Severus Snape (Sneville)

Minerva McGonagall x Horace Slughorn (Wiseslug)

Hermione Granger x Cornelius Fudge (Fudgmione)

Nearly Headless Nick x Tom Marvolo Riddle (Brainteaser)

Penny Haywood x Fleur Delacour (Penfleur)

Ron Weasley x Petunia Evans (Rontunia)

Hannah Abbott x Kingsley Shacklebolt (Shacklebbott)

Rita Skeeter x Yann Fredericks (What if we just called these two Yeet?)

Dennis Creevey x Dolores Umbridge (Creevbridge)

Rowan Khanna x Dorcas Meadowes (Rorcas)

Nymphadora Tonks x Firenze the Centaur (Centonks)

James Potter x Marcus Flint (Jarcus)

Rose Granger-Weasley x Dobby the House Elf (Robby)

Delphi Riddle x Qui LeBlanc (Augurvamp)

Molly Weasley II x Barnaby Lee (Barnolly)

Luna Lovegood x Penelope Clearwater (Lovewater)

Harry Potter x Pansy Parkinson (Hansy)

Sebastian Sallow x Chiara Lobosca (Loballow)

Barty Crouch Jr. x Albus Dumbledore (Albarty)

Sirius Black x Tulip Karasu (Prankstar)

Lily Evans x Madam Rosmerta (Lilymerta)

Cho Chang x Helena Ravenclaw (Cholena)

Fabian Prewett x Grant Chapman (Grabian)

Hestia Jones x Regulus Black (Restia)

Draco Malfoy x Albus Severus Potter (Dralbus)

Lily Luna Potter x Scorpius Malfoy (Scorlily)

Lavender Brown x Percy Weasley (Paperseer)

My bad for jinxing us guys as I was spinning this I wondered if we were actually going to get Scorbus and then the wheel decided to do something funny. some of these ships are ships I’ve seen before and I was surprised by how many of them could probably actually be enjoyed by people. but yeah suggest ship names if you have any ideas I did put down the ship names for ones I knew or ones that I could easily come up with myself.

(rules and submitted characters)

[carewyncromwell]

"In my life I feel like a prisoner, in a light...

Are you feeling me?

'Cause the way you make my

Break my, shake my walls around,

I feel like I'm breaking out!

Show me your colors --

Show me your colors --

'Cause without you, I'm blue..."

~"Hurry Up and Save Me" by Tiffany Giardina

x~x~x~x

~Inspired by a concept by @ag907 💜~

In the story of Jacob and Carewyn Cromwell, the two siblings had to face a lot of tragedy in their lives. One of the single largest was the loss of Duncan Ashe, Jacob's first friend and love. But what if Duncan hadn't died prior to Jacob's expulsion? What if Duncan had been with Jacob, Peter Pettigrew, and Patricia Rakepick on that ill-fated jaunt to the Portrait Vault that resulted in Jacob's imprisonment? What if, after Rakepick's supposed "betrayal," he decided he'd force the Gringotts Cursebreaker to help him save Jacob from the Portrait Vault and R, by any means necessary? And what if Lane Cromwell and little nine-year-old Carewyn caught wind that the last person known to have been with Jacob before his disappearance was his now-graduated Slytherin classmate, Duncan Ashe?

x~x~x~x

The end of Duncan's Hogwarts career had been very turbulent. However he'd imagined ending his time at school, it certainly wouldn't have involved him becoming an Apprentice Cursebreaker at Gringotts under the tutelage of a R stooge he was currently blackmailing to keep from fleeing the country. It also hadn't included being alone at his graduation ceremony -- sure, he hadn't expected anything more than detached applause from his father and stepmother...but he'd always imagined Olivia and Jacob on either side of him, when he finally accepted his graduation scroll from Dumbledore. And he'd certainly not expected to exchange such a piercing look with the Headmaster while doing it.

"If I'm to help Jacob, then I need to know everything you know about the organization he joined, Duncan."

"I already told you, Jacob and I know next to nothing about R! Even those people who've joined it don't seem to know much about it, and they've done that on bloody purpose. I don't need your help, Professor -- I just need access to Hogwarts. Once I find the enchanted portrait again and break all the Vaults' curses in the proper order, I can save Jacob. I will save him and Olivia, damn whatever R might do."

"You might feel that way, Duncan...but as Hogwarts' Headmaster, I must care about what R might do. I won't hinder you from visiting Hogwarts, should you reach out to me -- but if you are to have free reign, you will have to convince both me and the Minister of Magic that you will not likewise give the Dark Wizards Jacob has aligned himself with access to my school and the students I protect. And you mustn't forget -- Jacob himself now poses a threat, with his own forced allegiance to R."

"...So you don't want Jacob to be free..if it means R could use him to hurt people?! Jacob would NEVER want to be with R -- he would fight them with everything in him, if he could! Whatever dark magic is in that mark they put on him, he'd be doing it against his will! Jacob would never -- !"

"I know. Truly, I do. But until R is rounded up and brought to justice, it sounds as though Jacob will still be a weapon they can use against others, whether he likes it or not. And Jacob is powerful and talented enough that he would be a very valuable weapon for such people. I don't like the situation, Duncan...but until the people holding Jacob's chains are dealt with...it may be safest for himself and others if he -- at least for the interim -- remains contained.”

His last conversation with the Hogwarts Headmaster played over Duncan's head off and on the last month, flooding the Slytherin alum with resentment and rage. It seemed to crop up most whenever he and Rakepick headed to work -- perhaps because just about every time they collided in the Leaky Cauldron, Rakepick would be shooting furtive looks over her shoulder, monitoring their surroundings.

"Take a chill pill," Duncan remarked once dryly as he walked through the brick wall into Diagon Alley, not even looking at her. "Are you expecting some knobhead in a red cloak to pop up in broad daylight?"

"Don't be a fool," Rakepick hissed back coldly.

The twenty-six-year old witch took another critical glance around as they walked side by side down the street.

"R is always watching, Duncan Ashe. Neither of us know the extent of their numbers -- even I can't assess who is a member and who isn't without touching them."

"Let 'em watch -- I don't care," scoffed Duncan. "They only really have the ability to threaten and coerce, to get their way. R has nothing I want, and what little family I do have they can threaten all they want."

Something darker passed over his face.

"I've already lost the two most important people in my life, thanks to them," he muttered. "They've lost all power they could have over me."

Rakepick's lips knit together grimly. She looked away.

"Don't underestimate just how much the wolves of R can take from you, Duncan Ashe," she said lowly. "They feed on far more than just physical flesh."

Duncan didn't answer. Instead he adjusted the collar of his dark green robes and started up the stairs of Gringotts bank.

"Did you track down the portrait yet?" he asked.

Rakepick scowled. "I checked Pettigrew's old flat, but it hasn't been touched since Black supposedly killed him, so it's not there. I frankly don't know where else he might've hidden it -- it's not like he has any friends left in the world, with him having to play dead. It's frankly a miracle I was able to pressure him to help us with the Vault in the first place..."

"If by 'help,' you mean leave us for dragon chow," Duncan said scornfully.

"Beggars can't be choosers, Mr. Ashe," Rakepick shot back coolly. "We needed at least four people if we were to fight a dragon. And I don't believe you, Jacob, or I were about to ask any of the Hogwarts faculty to help."

Duncan scowled, but otherwise dropped the issue.

"We'll have to keep looking, then. Even if we break the other Vaults' curses again in the proper order, it won't mean a thing, if we can't get back to the Portrait Vault..."

"Pettigrew and his little Hogwarts buddies had plenty of old hiding places back on the Hogwarts grounds," said Rakepick, and her lips actually quirked up with a cool smirk. "But I daresay Dumbledore will want a proper explanation for why my Apprentice Cursebreaker would want such unfettered access to the school and would demand proper oversight. The Minister and our Head Cursebreaker, as well."

Duncan shot her a glare.

"I may have been assigned to study under you, but don't forget my terms, Rakepick. I won't tell Dumbledore or anyone else about what you did to Jacob, but you need to help me set him free. Therefore I'm the one calling the shots -- don't you forget it."

"And don't you forget," Rakepick shot back just as coldly, "that you made those terms out of desperation, since the only other great wizard offering you help is more interested in dealing with R, not the Vaults. Without me, you'll never save Jacob."

Almost as soon as the two entered the bank, they were flagged down by Griphook. Rather than give them an assignment as they expected, however, the goblin looked rather critical as he handed a sealed envelope to Duncan.

"A 'Lane Cromwell' sent this to the bank very early this morning for you," he said irritably. "She did not have your current address, so she followed up here instead."

Both Duncan and Rakepick stiffened sharply at the sound of the name.

"Cromwell..." murmured Rakepick.

"I initially thought to dispose of it -- after all, I am no owl, and if the woman had any friendship with you, I would think she'd already know you've been renting a bed at the Leaky Cauldron for the last two months," Griphook said stiffly as he handed the letter to Duncan and then crossed his arms. "But thinking it could be business-related, I thought best to let you deal with the initial letter, and then only burn any subsequent ones she might try to send through me."

He was tapping his long-nailed fingers beside his forearm, seemingly awaiting an explanation. Duncan looked from the letter to up at Griphook and tried to compose himself.

"Sorry. Yes, I...I'll deal with it at once. Thank you."

Griphook gave a sniff and then trudged back toward his desk.

Duncan looked back down at the envelope warily. Written in very neat, but slightly shaky handwriting in dark blue ink were the words:

Duncan Ashe

Gringotts Bank

Diagon Alley, London

The envelope was not the sturdy, wizarding parchment variety, closed with a wax seal. Instead it was very thin and made of simple white paper: a standard Muggle-produced envelope.

Just like Jacob used to use...

Duncan could feel Rakepick watching him. Stubbornly ignoring her, he ripped the envelope open and read the note inside.

Flat 13, 43 Harrison Way

Liverpool

Dear Mr. Ashe,

We have never met, but I'm Jacob Cromwell's mother. I understand you and my son knew each other at school.

At your earliest convenience, I should dearly like to know about your last interactions with Jacob, prior to his disappearance. If a private in-person meeting could be arranged, I am available on weekends. You will need to use the Knight Bus or careful Apparition, however, as my home is in a Muggle district and my fireplace is not connected to the Floo Network. If you'd prefer to simply give me a written account, I'm willing to accommodate, but please expect follow-up questions by Owl Post, preferably at your home address. Slytherin's new Head of House Severus Snape didn't have anything on file for you aside from your family's address, but he signaled you were unlikely to still be there after your graduation.

Hope this finds you well.

Lane Cromwell

"Well?" said Rakepick.

Duncan read the letter a few more times, considering the words carefully as he swallowed.

He hadn't reached out to Jacob's mother at all after what happened. How could he? He felt guilty enough about what happened, and he didn't know the woman at all -- how could he even begin to explain everything he, Jacob, and Olivia had kept under wraps so long? It had been their secret, their goal -- even now that everything had gone so out-of-control, it was hard to reach out for help with it. Especially when Dumbledore flat-out admitted he thought it'd be too dangerous to set Jacob free as long as R still existed and had power over him...

That, and...Duncan knew how much Jacob loved his mother. Not just her, but his little sister, Carewyn. Jacob's love for his sister overwhelmed just about everything else. It had been Carewyn's life being threatened that had scared Jacob so much. It had been Rakepick saving Carewyn that had coaxed Jacob to trust her, only for Rakepick to end up being part of R too. It was Carewyn, and to a lesser extent his mother, that made Jacob do as R said...made him not just run away and change his name and start a new life in freedom far away from R and their threats, the way Duncan had thought they could...

It was Carewyn -- and Lane -- that Duncan knew Jacob would always choose. Over his own safety, over his own life...over any kind of future with Duncan.

Resentment twinged in his mouth as he bit the inside of his cheek.

Rakepick said Jacob's grandfather has links to R, he thought. Anything I might write could get intercepted...knowing them, they probably have Jacob's flat under surveillance, so they'd know if I visited too...

He reread Lane's letter one more time.

Her "L's" had the exact same swirling flourish that Jacob's did.

His eyes narrowed as he finally lowered the letter.

"We're going to meet her," he said brusquely.

Rakepick was taken aback. "What?"

"Jacob's mother wants to meet me to talk about Jacob. You're coming with me."

Rakepick gave something of an shocked, offended cough.

"Have you lost your senses completely?" she demanded. "R explicitly instructed me not to go anywhere near Jacob's family! If you or I made any contact with them, then R would retaliate against both us and them -- "

"'Beggars can't be choosers,' isn't that what you said?" Duncan recurred very dryly.

He folded up Lane's letter and put it into his robes. Rakepick's eyes flashed.

"R already tried to hurt Carewyn Cromwell once," she hissed at him. "I know -- I was there -- "

"Good," Duncan shot back. "Then you can Apparate me cleanly over to their Muggle neighborhood without us being seen."

"If I hadn't turned against my companions that day, then Jacob's sister would've been crippled or worse!" said Rakepick, and her cold, angry voice betrayed the very slightest strain. "She and her mother have already been emotionally destroyed by his disappearance. Do you truly think that Jacob would want you putting his sister in R's cross-hairs again by doing this? Do you have no moral compunctions, putting the most important people in Jacob’s life -- one of them a nine-year-old child -- on the front lines?"

Duncan met her glare head-on.

"'They've already been destroyed by Jacob's disappearance?'" he repeated accusingly. "Then you've already seen them."

Rakepick flinched. Then her eyes narrowed.

"Only Carewyn," she murmured. "And only from afar."

"Well, I’m not such a coward," said Duncan. His own voice was sharper now, more confrontational. “If you want to talk about moral compunctions, how do you justify refusing to face the family of the bloke you got trapped in a portrait?”

Rakepick’s face was almost forcibly stoic, but she could offer no verbal response. Duncan turned his back on her.

“I need a way back into Hogwarts and into the Cursed Vaults. Maybe some angry mother yanking at his beard will make Dumbledore reconsider his stance.”

[nocontext-hphm]

[eliaswoodt]

Hyp-o-crite

[jacobscursebreakerlilsis]

MC out here practicing legilimency in public for everyone to see💀

They can be really dumb sometimes🤦🏻‍♀️

[rewritingcanon]

which sibling dynamic be reminding you of daylight by david kushner? i honestly think it could fit ANYTHING

[nicos-oc-hell]

Who’s Goddamn White Uncle Is That?

Inspired by a conversation @rosachaotic, @magicapandora and I had back when the hphm MC’s dad was revealed and since I already had established dads for my ocs, i made him one of the many uncles that are in an Italian mafia family. This story is an expanded/continuation of what I had originally posted on here.

Summary of the series: In the forest in 6th year when Rakepick ambushes Barnaby, Dimitri, Rowen and Rowan, Rowan takes the spell that was meant for Rowen and falls into a coma. Follow Dimitri as he tries to get his magic back as it was stripped from him when his uncle, Arthur, came and gave Dumbledore permission to put magic dampeners on him. It’s a wild ride, Arthur & Dumbledore are pieces of shit, Dimitri stoops very low to get his magic back and hurts others in the process.

French is in bold italics, Thoughts are in italics

It was like time was moving in slow motion when a green spell shot out towards Rowen Khanna from the tip of Patricia Rakepick’s wand. Without hesitation Rowen’s twin sister, Rowan Khanna, and his best friend, Dimitri Di Angelo, both went separate ways. Dimitri tackled Rakepick to the ground while Rowan managed to tackle her brother to the ground. The two of them were laying on the ground for a few moments before Dimitri picked his head up with a huge grin on his face as he was listening out for Rowen’s heartbeat.

“Thank god, you are ok my friend.” Dimitri’s smooth accent came out with a slight strain as Rakepick was struggling beneath him. He muttered his own spell and Rakepick was suddenly not moving any more. The smile dropped off of his face with a cock of his head as saw that Rowen did not share the same look as him but rather one of sorrow. “Roe? Are you alright?”

Dimitri quickly noticed that two of the five heartbeats in the clearing were steady as if the people weren’t just in a battle. He knew one was Rakepick as he had magically knocked her unconscious but he couldn’t identify who the second one was. Dimitri quickly scrambled to his feet and rushed over to where the twins were still on the ground. He quickly turned Rowan over so she was no longer face down on Rowen and immediately started looking for the source of the glassy look and slow heartbeat.

A lot happened at once, Dimitri and Barnaby were panicking over Rowan not responding to any stimuli while Rowen was trying to slap Rakepick awake. “Wake up! Wake the hell up! Dimitri, cancel the damn spell!” Smoke was starting to rise out of Rakepick’s clothes from where Rowen was gripping her robes. Barnaby ran over to Rowen and yanked him up off of Rakepick while sending sparks up into the air to alert anyone who was near. Rowen immediately starts struggling against Barnaby trying to get back to trying to set Rakepick on fire.

“Calm down, Rowen!” Barnaby shouted while twisting Rowen’s arms behind his back.

“Calm down?! CALM DOWN?! She did something to my sister and she will pay for it!” Rowen started to breathe very heavily with sparks coming out of his hands from his magic starting to get out of control. Suddenly his heartbeat dropped back to its normal pace, his head dropped down and he became dead weight from the quick spell Dimitri threw his way.

Dimitri turned around with Rowan in his arms and casted Leviosa on Rakepick’s body, he motioned for Barnaby to stand up with Rowen then walked away to the path back to Hogwarts.

Dimitri sat next to Rowan passed out while holding her hand in a tight grip pushing as much of his sun flames as he could. He was passed out for about a good hour before Snape had come and dragged him out of the Hospital Wing so that he could go to class. It was futile as Dimitri passed out in the middle of charms class as he had basically drained his magical core in the short two hours, he was with Rowan in the Hospital Wing.

A short while later, Dimitri woke up to low voices talking above him. He slowly opened his eyes and hissed at the bright light that hit his eyes the second he had opened them. He put his forearm over his eyes and noticed the tube in his arm after it had touched his face. “1, why is there a tube in my arm? 2, when did I get here?” Dimitri asked, taking his arm off of his face and sat up while rubbing his eyes.

Snape turned his head towards Dimitri then flicked his eyes up to above Dimitri’s head. “You’ve been here for about two hours. This is why you don’t overexert your magic, Mr. Di Angelo. It is a very dangerous thing especially for two hours straight.” Dimitri glared over at Snape with a quick sarcastic smile, he took the offered glass of water from Dumbledore and sniffed the drink before he took a sip of it. “The tube is to get fluids into your bloodstream as we can’t force anything down your throat.” Dimitri instinctively tilted his head to the side with an amused smile and Snape glared at him as soon as he noticed it.

Dimitri started looking around the room before his eyes landed on an unfamiliar face, “Who in the hell is that?” He asked, nodding his head towards the tall blonde man behind Snape. Dumbledore stepped in front of the blondie and Dimitri immediately rolled his eyes at the fact that Dumbledore was now in his direct line of sight.

“Dimit-”

“Mr. Di Angelo” Dimitri injected before Dumbledore could get the rest of his name out. “If you’re gonna lecture me, I’d rather you not try and sound like my disappointed nonno while you do it.”

He noticed the tick in Dumbledore’s jaw before he spoke again, “Mr. Di Angelo, what you did was not only dangerous but it could have lasting effects on not only your magical core but also your body. You need to realize that your actions have cons-” Dumbledore was cut off again by Dimitri rolling his eyes and moving his hand in a way a child does whenever they are mocking someone behind their back. Dimitri silently yanked the tube out of his arm and slashed his arm in a way where the person it was directed at would be pushed out of the way by a gust of air. That is when he finally noticed the metal cuffs on his wrist with the lack of a chain between them.

Dimitri opened his mouth but no words came out as he tried to put together while he had cuffs on. He let out a little laugh before he turned his attention back to Dumbledore, “Sir with all the disrespect in the world, don’t try to fucking lecture me on the fact that I’m trying to help my friend, whom as you may notice, “ He mumbled something underneath his breath that faintly sounded like probably not you useless sack of shit, “is in a coma. I don’t particularly care about ‘potentially damaging my magical core’ if it means that I can see my friend make it out of her coma.” He pointed at the man who had side stepped Dumbledore and was staring at Dimitri as if he had seen a ghost.

“You have quite the mouth on you young man.”

Dimitri held his hand out and just stared at Snape with his head fully tilted to the side. “Why has nobody answered my question on who the random white man is! He’s looking at me like it’s the first time he’s seen me in decades.” The man had finally stepped forward to introduce himself and held his hand out towards Dimitri, who just stared at the hand until the man retracted.

“My name is Arthur, I’m your uncle and your father has sent me to look after you while you recover as I’m the only one who can use wizard magic.” The man, Arthur, stated with a tight smile as he waited for the explosive reaction he was guaranteed was going to happen from the look on Dimitri’s face. Yet Dimitri just scoffed and rolled his eyes while muttering something underneath his breath. “Per your father’s request, I am to stay here until you are able to be by yourself.”

“You mentioned my father…which one are you referring to when you say that? Giotto or Sora?”

The man hesitated for a second because he wasn’t aware that the boy considered both of the brothers as his father. “Uh Giotto?”

“That man is not my father and you will not refer to him as such. He is a disgrace to the family. Also,” He turned his head back to Snape and Dumbledick who were standing next to each other watching their interaction, “This is a white man. A WHITE man, now while both my father and uncle look white they are in fact asian with a quarter of white in them, this man could not possibly be my uncle. My dad’s side of the family is Asian and Italian, he sounds like a fucking American. I know Hogwarts has some pretty shitty security but honestly you should’ve spotted this shit from a mile away.” Dimitri threw his hands in the air with an exasperated look on his face. He looked back at Arthur in disgust and muttered something underneath his breath that only Snape could hear as he was standing directly above him.

Arthur's jaw was clenched by the time Dimitri had finished his rant about him being a white American. He walked over to Dimitri, leaned down and started to whisper something in French in his ear. “Just because I am an adult, it does not mean I won’t smack the everloving shit out of you and make you have the face only a mother could love. I may be an American, I may be white but you will treat me with the respect that you show the others in the family. You hear me, Boy?” Dimitri just raised an eyebrow before he turned away from the man with a muttered you smell like onions and garlick. “You are a little shit, you know that right. Giotto should have raised you better than this.”

Dimitri pushed himself up off the bed and shoved past Dumbledore who was trying to stop him from leaving. He ignored the shouts from Dumbledore and Snape while walking up the stairs, if it was a cartoon, he would have steam rising out of his ears from how angry he was.

[dorelia23]

I haven't finished the Black sisters' tlsq yet, I'm still listening to Dumbledore talking about Bellatrix and thought, what if her password is Toujours Pur 👀

[mizutoyama]

The Smell of Success

A/N: This is my entry for @hp-12monthsofmagic April prompt "I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up to No Good".

Despite her strict upbringing, Tulip Karasu had always been a free spirit at heart. Her parents' rigid rules and expectations had only served to fuel her rebellious nature, which she had managed to keep hidden from them for years. However, as Tulip grew older, it became increasingly difficult for her to keep up the façade of the obedient daughter they wanted her to be. When she finally received her letter from Hogwarts, it was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Freedom would soon be hers. Her time to shine and show her true nature would finally come.

However, she had no idea that pulling pranks at Hogwarts would not be as easy as she expected. She had to be very careful not to get caught by anyone, especially Argus Filch, Hogwarts' caretaker, who seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to detecting pranks. He was always lurking around the corners, keeping a close eye on her every move. It was as if he knew she was up to something, and anytime she tried to place one of her Dungbombs or Stink Pellets, there he was, staring at her. It was frustrating for her because she had to constantly watch her back and make sure that she wasn't caught. If it wasn't him, it was his cat, Mrs. Norris, who was always there to ruin her plans. These two were quite the anti-prank pair, making it even harder for her to execute her prank.

In fact, this constant supervision had given her an idea. Having bought all the Dungbombs and Stink Pellets she could at Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, she was getting ready to pull off what was in her 11-year-old mind, the ultimate prank. She had to be very careful when acquiring those smelly pranks in Diagon Alley, ensuring her parents remained none the wiser. Her initial plan had just been to plant one here and there as minor stinky pranks, but with Filch's constant presence, she decided she would use them all at once. If she was going to get caught, might as well go out with a bang. The biggest of bangs. The stinkiest of bangs.

For this prank to even happen, she first needed to make sure Filch would not catch her prepping it. Being punished for an attempted prank would feel like a failure compared to being punished for a successful one. So, the first thing she had to do was figure out Filch's habits, like when he took a tea break, which area he tended to patrol at what time, did he ever sleep, etc. That was a challenge as she had to remain inconspicuous so as to not raise Filch's suspicion. This took longer than she expected, but she ended up with a schedule detailed enough to know when to put in place the elements of her plan.

The next step in her plan was to carefully consider the timing and location of her prank. She knew that the best options were either during breakfast or dinner when there would be the most people around to witness her masterful work. After careful consideration, she ultimately decided to go with breakfast. Not only did this allow her to potentially cause a stir and get classes cancelled for the day, but there would be fewer professors in the Great Hall at that time, thereby reducing the chances of getting caught. She understood that a good prank required planning and timing and felt she had made the right choice.

Once she had everything she needed to prepare her prank, she decided it was time to set it up using the cover of darkness to her advantage. Thankfully, her roommates were mostly heavy sleepers, except perhaps for that girl who was prone to nightmares about her brother, who had reportedly joined forces with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, according to some Slytherins. Although Tulip had her doubts about whether this girl would notice her absence, she took precautions by placing pillows under her covers to make it appear as though someone was still in the bed. Making sure not to make any noise as she left, she sneaked outside of the empty common room.

Avoiding Filch was no easy feat, but Tulip managed to do so with great care. She tiptoed through the Great Hall, her eyes scanning the area for the best locations to hide her collection of Dungbombs and Stink Pellets. She kept only one Dungbomb with her, as it would be the one to start the chain reaction that would cause chaos throughout the castle. Tulip had placed a Dungbomb right under the chair of the Potions Master, ensuring that he would be caught in the midst of the stench. The sleeping inhabitants of the castle were blissfully unaware of the malodorous morning that awaited them, but Tulip knew that it would be a day they would never forget. Her work done for the night, she retreated to the comfort of her bed with a sense of excitement and anticipation.

The following day, she made her way to the Great Hall with a visible glint in her eyes and a spring in her step. This was the day she would go down in Hogwarts' history as the greatest prankster this school had ever known. Sitting down at her usual spot at Ravenclaw's table, she could hardly contain her excitement, tapping her feet and fidgeting with her spoon. As she waited for more students to arrive, Tulip couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. What if her plan didn't work? What if she got caught? But she quickly shook these thoughts away, reminding herself that she had been planning this prank for weeks and it was going to be perfect.

Finally, once she figured most students were there, she bent under the table, pretending to look for something. She threw her Dungbomb toward one of the Stink Pellets and flicked her wand toward a Dungbomb hidden under the Slytherin table. The effect was instantaneous. Within seconds, the Great Hall was filled with the rancid smell of the Dungbombs and Stink Pellets, causing the students to cough and gag. Even Professor Snape, known for his stoic demeanour, was waving his arms around and trying to get the smell away from him, looking like a giant bat trying to fly away.

The chaos was absolute as students ran out of the Great Hall, coughing and wiping their teary eyes. Tulip followed them, partly to avoid looking suspicious but also because even she had been affected by the overpowering stench that was now stinging her eyes. As she stepped out into the Entrance Hall, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had done it! She had pulled off the greatest prank in Hogwarts' history!

However, her satisfaction was short-lived as she saw Dumbledore, the Headmaster, come running down the Grand Staircase. He stood at the entrance of the Great Hall, and, with a simple flick of his wand, the putrid smell disappeared, allowing the students to finally breathe in some odourless air. Tulip was slightly disappointed that her prank had been ended so easily and that there hadn't been more chaos. On the other hand, even if Filch was eyeing her as if he knew she was the perpetrator of the prank, it seems no one knew who had started it, and there was no evidence left to point out a suspect.

While this was not the great prank she thought it would be, she couldn't help but feel proud that she still had managed to pull this off without being caught. As she walked away from the Great Hall, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for what other pranks she could pull off in the future.

Unbeknownst to her, a Slytherin girl with striking purple eyes had seen what she had done but had decided to keep it to herself. She knew that having an ally like Tulip, who was willing to take risks and push boundaries, would be invaluable in her search for the Cursed Vaults.

[vastly-fixated-devotee-667]

new headcanon hagrid has a massive crush on dumbledore

[redhairedgryffindor]

How have you been holding up since the battle?

Not well

All right

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley: The Wilderness Years

Chapter 12: The Point of No Return

A/N: the final challenge of the Triwizard Cup is here. We all know that it’s not going to go well… Warnings: canon death, mentions of war and murder, angst, description of injury, language.

The curtains did little to block out the morning sunlight, though Artemis had been awake long before the sunrise. She turned one way and then the other before getting up with a sigh and walking across to the window that looked out on the still sleepy Hogsmeade street below her.

She had come to the Three Broomsticks the night before, having left Chester’s flat with a hurriedly packed rucksack full of her things and Fergus the cat within an hour of returning from their disastrous dinner. Rosmerta had seemed only a little surprised to see her, and had shown her up to her old room without asking her too many questions that she didn’t yet have answers to. Was it over for good? Was she upset? What was she going to do now?

At least one question she could almost answer. That evening the last challenge of the Triwizard Tournament would be taking place, and there were bound to be plenty of final preparations to make up at the castle. And the Weasleys were going to be there. If Artemis went soon, she might be able to catch them beforehand, she could fill Bill and Charlie in on what had happened and to hear their thoughts on the matter. 

She dressed herself and left Fergus asleep on her pillow to walk up to the school, which was filled with students rushing between their dormitories, the library, and the Great Hall. The hall was bustling with its usual breakfast crowd, and Artemis walked straight through it without stopping to talk to anyone, until she reached an antechamber leading off from the far corner, where a small group of witches and wizards were gathered. Among them were Mrs Weasley, who was talking to a wizard Artemis recognised as Amos Diggory - a colleague from the Ministry and father of Cedric - and Bill, who was leaning against a window and looking out at the grounds. Artemis made a beeline for him, and as he saw her, his face split into a wide and knowing smile.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here so early,” said Bill. Artemis glowered at him, and his grin rapidly faded. “Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“What do you think is wrong, Bill?”

Bill’s eyes flicked towards Artemis’ left hand. Artemis sighed heavily and crossly, and he grimaced. 

“Did he ask…”

“Yes, he asked.”

“And did you say…”

“No,” said Artemis. “I said no.”

“Ah.” Bill nodded. “Well, shit.”

“Is that all you have to offer?” Artemis asked him impatiently. She looked around. “Where’s Charlie?”

“He’s had to work.”

“What?”

“Dragon-based emergency,” said Bill. “He had to get a last minute Portkey back to Romania.”

Artemis made a noise like a growl and raised her eyes skywards. “What is the point of him?”

“I’ve been asking myself that question since 1972, Artemis.” Bill’s lips twitched, but Artemis remained stony-faced and narrow-eyed. “So is it over between you two?”

“I think so. I can’t really see things going back to how they were before, so probably.”

“And how do you feel?”

“I dunno,” Artemis shrugged. “Mainly just annoyed.”

“About what?”

“That it was all a big waste of time. That I let him in and he still didn’t get it, or get me. That he didn’t even talk to me about it before springing it on me out of nowhere. That he asked other people for their permission first. That those people gave their permission, when it was none of their bloody business.”

She looked at Bill accusatively, and he sighed.

“Sorry, little one,” he said. “In my defence, he sprung that question on me out of nowhere too.”

“You could’ve said no. I mean, I did.”

“As was your prerogative.”

“What?”

“Well, he asked if he could ask you. It didn’t really matter whether I gave permission, because the final say was always going to be down to you, wasn’t it?”

Artemis sighed. Bill had a point. 

“Mum will be disappointed, though,” he continued. “She’s already picked out her hat.”

He chuckled, and as if on cue, Bill’s mother strode across the room with a smile so wide her cheeks must have hurt and her hands extended towards Artemis’ own.

“There she is!” Molly exclaimed. “Come here, I want to see…” 

Her voice tailed off as she looked at Artemis’ bare fingers, and her eyes widened. She cast a questioning glance up at her son.

“Mum, maybe just-”

“Oh, Artemis. Are you okay, dear?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Artemis told Molly, taking her left hand back and stuffing it in her pocket. “Really, it’s… I’ve got to get to work. Nice seeing you, anyway.”

“Artemis…”

“I said I’m fine, Bill.”

Both Bill and Molly looked at her with mingled concern and pity, and she made a conscious effort not to sigh or scream at them. Was this going to be how everyone looked at her now? 

Her dark mood quickly returning, Artemis made her way back out through the Great Hall, where the breakfast crowd was beginning to dwindle, and across the grounds in the direction of the Quidditch pitch, where Badeea’s labyrinth had been constructed from twenty-foot high hedges. A few of Artemis’ colleagues were milling around already, including Badeea herself, who frowned at her as she approached.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and Artemis shook her head.

“Can you ask me an easier question?” she replied. “Or just give me a job, something I can help you with.”

“Really, Artemis, if you’re stressed you don’t need to-”

“I want to be helpful. What can I do?”

Badeea sighed before gesturing to a large crate of immensely ugly creatures that somewhat resembled maggots or scorpions, only they were almost ten feet in length, were covered in a thick, armour-like hide, and had dark spiky parts at either end of their bodies.

“What the hell are those?”

“One of the obstacles,” said Badeea. “Hagrid bred them, he called them Blasting-End Shoots or something.”

“Why did he call them that?”

In answer to Artemis’ question, one of the creatures turned one of its ends - she couldn’t tell if it was the head or tail - towards them and with a loud bang, emitted a flurry of flames at the pair of them. Badeea extinguished the flames with a wave of her wand.

“That’s why,” she muttered darkly. “I’m meant to get them into the maze, but I’m not sure how. Once they’re in it’s just sorting out the Cup itself and briefing the professors on how to get to a champion if anyone needs help.”

Artemis rolled up her sleeves and pulled out her wand, and she and Badeea set to work. By the time they had managed to figure out a way to get Hagrid’s bizarre and ugly creatures to a space in the labyrinth, it was early afternoon, and they had both ascertained several burns on their arms and hands.

“You might need to get that looked at,” Artemis told Badeea, looking at a particularly nasty looking red mark on her forearm. “It looks painful. I can get the Cup into the maze for you while you’re at the Hospital Wing.”

“Are you sure?” Badeea asked, and Artemis nodded her head. “Thanks. I’ll meet you later to watch the challenge. Is Chester going to be sitting with us, or…”

“No.” Artemis hadn’t meant to answer Badeea’s question so forcefully. She sighed and shrugged. “He’s not coming. He had… a work thing. A law-based emergency.”

Having been given instructions from Badeea, Artemis set off to collect the Triwizard Cup, which she was to place in the very centre of the labyrinth, a task that was undeniably more important than dealing with Hagrid’s ugly creatures. However, it was also less dangerous, and far less distracting. For several hours Artemis had not thought of the previous night’s events, nor of Chester, or the fact that she still needed to go back to his flat and either attempt to smooth things over or collect the rest of her belongings and leave without returning. Without the loud bangs and flame bursts to keep her mind occupied, her thoughts had once more begun to circle and chase one another round the inside of her head. 

She was so caught up in her own private concerns that she did not notice that she was not alone until she heard someone clearing their throat behind her, and she turned to see the heavily scarred face of Tonks’ former mentor and now Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Mad-Eye Moody.

“Sorry,” Artemis said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I just didn’t know you were here, that’s all.”

“Thought not,” said Moody gruffly, and both his magical and non-magical eyes settled on her. “You seem distracted, girl.” 

“I am, I guess.”

“Personal issues?”

“Something like that,” Artemis shrugged, and Moody let out a harsh laugh.

“Can’t help you there. Look at me, do you think this is the face of someone who can help you with your personal life?” Said face twisted into a grin. “I can kill him for you, if you want.”

Now it was Artemis’ turn to laugh. “No, you’re okay.”

“Suit yourself. You look like you could use a strong drink, though. I’ve got some brandy in my office. You won’t have to drink from my flask.”

“I don’t…”

“Or you could try Madam Rosmerta’s? If you go now, you’ll be back in plenty of time for the challenge.” Moody raised his eyebrows as if he knew that Artemis would be sorely tempted by this suggestion. She glanced at the trophy she had been tasked with, and he rolled his non-magical eye, keeping the magical one fixed on her. “I can take that Cup for you, get it to where it needs to go.”

“I said I’d do it,” Artemis said. “It has to go in the middle of the maze, and there’s all the obstacles in the way, and you don’t know where they are.”

“What do you think the point of this is?” asked Moody, pointing to his magical eye. “And don’t you think me capable of facing a few obstacles? If anyone can get your trophy to the right place safely, it’s me.”

He was right, his magical eye did make him the the best person for the job. And Artemis really had ought to see Rosmerta. She had left the Three Broomsticks so early and without even telling her what she was doing. Ros was bound to be worried. So, Artemis handed Moody the Triwizard Cup and walked away, feeling his magical eye still on her back long after she should have been out of his sight.

Shortly before sunset, Artemis returned to the Quidditch pitch, where a thousand-strong crowd had filled the stands overlooking the maze. A brass band was playing a triumphant-sounding tune, and banners were being waved around the arena. She took a seat on one of the benches of the commentary box, next to Badeea.

“Ladies and gentleman,” announced the voice of Ludo Bagman from near the entrance of the maze, “the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!”

The four champions lined up ready to enter the labyrinth. Even from the distance, Artemis could make out the round glasses of Harry Potter and the bronze-coloured hair of Cedric Diggory, the hooked nose of Viktor Krum, and the pretty features of Fleur Delacour. If she had been closer, perhaps she might have been able to see how they were feeling. Nervous, she expected, or maybe excited, like the crowd around her, who were clapping so hard that birds were taking off into the sky from the branches of the Forbidden Forest’s nearest trees.

One by one, the champions entered the labyrinth and disappeared. Not a lot could be seen other than the tops of the hedges, spiraling and winding towards the centre of the maze like a spider’s web. Moody’s magical eye was on the labyrinth, and at intervals he muttered to Bagman, who announced what obstacle each champion was facing.

“Diggory has just taken on a Blast-Ended Skrewt and come off better in the fight. Sounds like the dragons were good practice after all!” he called out, and a cheer went up from an area of the stands where the crowd was decked in yellow and black. A few minutes later, he called out again: “And Potter takes on a Boggart, nicely done by-”

A high-pitched scream echoed through the air from deep within the maze, cutting Bagman off mid-sentence. The scream came again a second time, and he whispered something to Moody.

“Ah, it sounds like Miss Delacour of Beauxbatons has run into some trouble,” said Bagman, as two people on broomsticks flew over the top of the hedges towards the area of the maze where the girl’s screams had come from. “Assistance is on the way, but that does mean that there are only three champions remaining.”

Not long after the Beauxbatons champion had been retrieved from the maze, pale and shaken but clearly not too badly injured, a flurry of red sparks emerged over the tops of the hedges. Another champion was out of the running.

“It’s officially a two-hippogriff race now,” Bagman told the crowd, as an unconscious Viktor Krum was pulled out from the labyrinth, closer to the centre than Fleur Delacour. “All is left to play for between Potter and Diggory, but one thing is for certain: the winner of the Tournament will be from Hogwarts School!”

The two Hogwarts champions must have been close to the centre of the maze now. Artemis craned her neck, but it was pointless. She could not see anything at all. There was nothing to do but wait for one of them to reach the Cup and return victorious.

A minute passed, then ten, then twenty, and there was still no sign of either Potter or Diggory. The crowd was growing restless.

“Do you think something’s happened to them?” Badeea asked, frowning deeply. Artemis shook her head.

“No, Moody’s magical eye would see it if it had. He doesn’t look worried, everything must be fine.”

After another fifteen minutes passed, Artemis began to doubt her words. But Moody still did not look concerned; if anything, he looked almost triumphant. Surely that meant that one of the two Hogwarts champions had to be close to the centre?

Her deduction turned out to be correct, because not long after, something silver swirled into existence at the side of the maze: the Triwizard Cup, held by a scruffy-looking boy with round glasses. A roar went up from the crowd, but Artemis’ eyes were fixed on what else - or rather, who else - the boy held in his arms as he lay on the ground.

Beside Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory lay motionless, as if he were badly Stunned, or…

People were running towards the two champions, and as each one drew near, their faces fell, and looked horrified. A blood-curdling scream went up from the group of onlookers nearest the scene, and another, and another. 

Artemis felt herself grow cold. She wanted to look away, to close her eyes, to leave, but she could not. All she could do was look unwaveringly at the scene unfolding before her in disbelief and dread, her blood stinging her like ice as it moved through her veins.

The brass band had stopped playing, and the crowd had stopped cheering. Now the air was filled only with undulating wails of fear and misery and mourning, for the boy who had been pulled lifeless from the maze, for the life he should have still had left to lead, and for the joy that should have come from his return.

Chaos reigned in the hour that followed. No one knew what had happened in the maze, nor what should happen next. The school faculty and the ministry officials were panicked, and the rest of the crowd even more so. A group of teachers were attempting to wrangle the students and escort them back to their dormitories, while a team of witches and wizards from the Ministry were ordering everyone to stay put until more information had come to light. Meanwhile, several people rushed back to the castle, among them the Minister for Magic, Professor Dumbledore the headmaster, and Bill and Molly Weasley. 

Artemis decided to follow them. She left Badeea in the stands and fought her way through the throngs of spectators to get to the edge of the pitch and across to the path that led back across the grounds. By the time she managed to get to the castle, no one was to be found there. She frowned, wondering where everyone could have gone.

The answer came to her relatively quickly: of course, they would have taken the champions to the Hospital Wing, especially if one of them was badly injured or even...

She swallowed down a substance that tasted like bile. A part of her hoped that Cedric wasn’t really dead, but she knew in her heart that he had to be. She had seen his limp body and the reactions of the people around him. She had seen reactions like that before. That little boy she had known at school was now dead, and a selfish part of her sincerely hoped that it had not been at the mercy of one of the maze’s obstacles that she had helped to procure.

She arrived at the Hospital Wing just in time to see the door open, and a wizard with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles slipped through it. His elderly face seemed extraordinarily lined, more so than ever before.

“Professor Dumbledore,” said Artemis, and he regarded her with blue eyes that did not twinkle. Instead they looked tired and determined, both at once. “I was looking for Bill, is he in-”

“Young William and his family are busy, Miss Hexley,” Dumbledore told her, his voice firm yet gentle. “As we all shall soon be, I suspect.” 

“Right, yeah. Of course,” Artemis nodded. “Professor, what’s going on? Cedric, is he… Is he dead?”

“Yes.”

“How? Was it something in the maze?”

“Not precisely,” said Dumbledore. “Unfortunately, a great evil has occurred tonight. For a time, the two Hogwarts champions were transported out of the maze and away from Hogwarts entirely, and it was then that Cedric met his fate at the hands of a Death Eater.”

Artemis tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. It had not been her fault. The thought struck her, and immediately she began to feel almost as guilty as she would had she been responsible. 

“There has been a Death Eater disguised here for some time, and tonight he enacted a terrible plan. It was he who placed the Triwizard Cup in the maze after turning it into a Portkey-”

“What?” Artemis’ breath caught in her throat, her mind spinning with confusion and her guilt twisting like a knife in her back.

“- and orchestrated the challenge so that Harry Potter would be the first to reach it. Cedric was merely an innocent bystander, and the first victim of his actions, but there will be more,” Dumbledore continued. He fixed Artemis with a pointed look. “Miss Hexley, do you remember what we discussed shortly before you left school? What I told you would one day come to pass?”

At Dumbledore’s words, Artemis’ eyes widened, and she shook her head.

“You-Know-Who… Voldemort… He’s back?”

Dumbledore inclined his head. “He has returned, yes.” 

“So… Now what?”

“I am afraid that we are on the cusp of an incredibly trying and terrible time. From now on, we must all endeavour to remember what truly matters,” said Dumbledore. “As for more practical solutions, this is why I must now leave you. I must find the Minister for Magic so that we can discuss where to go from here.”

The headmaster nodded his farewell to Artemis, who watched him walk away, the sound of his feet treading and the hem of his cloak brushing over the flagstone floor echoing in her ears with his final words.

Where to go from here… Where was there to go from here? She had come in search of Bill, but he was busy, and so was Molly, and everyone else in the castle, because something bad had happened, and it had been her fault, and now… 

Before she was aware of what she was doing, her feet had started to carry her back towards the grounds, in the direction of the Quidditch pitch and the labyrinth, where the crowd was now dispersing, with Aurors having appeared at the scene to manage and interview the confused and concerned witnesses mingling around the edges of the pitch. She caught a glimpse of Badeea’s headscarf among them, and began to walk towards her friend, but stopped in her tracks when she saw that Badeea was talking to Chester, and pointing in the direction that Artemis had left by. He was looking for her, but she did not want to be found. Not by him, nor by anyone.

Artemis ducked behind the changing tents so that she was out of sight from the crowd. She could hear them behind her, the noise they made like the hum of bees, loud but strangely distant, the peculiar sort of low hum of activity that could have been peaceful, but she knew that was not the case. Nothing was peaceful, nor would it be so again. Everything had changed, the world had shifted, and now here she was, standing at the edge of it, alone and with no way of going back. 

She felt dizzy with a mixture of feelings, none of which she wanted to feel. It was too much. It was all too much, and every fibre of her being was telling her to run, to get away from it all; from the maze, the crowd, the castle, her own thoughts, everything.

Her eyes focused on a single broomstick resting against the canvas material of the changing tents, and everything in her periphery faded away. She reached out and took hold of the broom, feeling the polished wooden handle beneath her fingers, before swinging one leg over it and pushing off from the ground.

And then she flew away.

[carewyncromwell]

"We've got the right to choose, and There ain't no way we'll lose it! This is our life...this is our song! We'll fight the powers that be -- just Don't pick on our destiny, 'cause You don't know us -- you don't belong!"

~"We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister

x~x~x~x

Albus Dumbledore reached out to many old associates while trying to recruit members for the Order of the Phoenix. After all, however powerful of a wizard he was, he was wise enough to know he wouldn't be able to face off against Voldemort and all of his Death Eaters alone. There were people who could see and hear things he couldn't -- who were part of communities he wasn't -- and, yes, who were younger and healthier than he was. Dumbledore may have put forward a strong affect much of the time, to the extent that he wondered if some of his students saw him as immortal, but that didn't change the fact that he was a very old man and he was painfully aware of it.

There was one old associate, however, who joined the Order of the Phoenix without Dumbledore reaching out to him. On the contrary, he chose to join both despite Dumbledore deciding not to ask him and the person himself hating the Headmaster's guts. This person ended up arriving in Hogsmeade the morning of 27 June 1994 and -- upon checking into his room at the Three Broomsticks -- he immediately stuck his head into the fireplace and called Dumbledore's office.

"Oi! Dumbledore! I want a word!"

As it so happened, Dumbledore was at his desk writing several letters at the time, and the sound of the familiar voice made him look up over his half-moon spectacles, mildly startled. When he got up and approached his fireplace, the Headmaster found the frowning head of a young man with very hollowed-out, skull-like almond-shaped blue eyes and a mane of long, messy black-brown curls sitting in the flames.

Dumbledore smiled.

"Jacob," he said. "This is a surprise. I was under the impression you were in Bolivia."

"I was," Jacob Cromwell said irritably. "Not that I remember telling you that, you old fart. Now let me over there -- I want to talk to you about Diggory."

His white eyebrows raised, Dumbledore nonetheless took his wand out of his sleeve and waved it across the top of the fireplace, making it glow a light gold.

"There you are, Jacob," he said lightly. "You have clearance to come through -- "

Right as the Headmaster had finished saying this, Jacob shoved his way head-first into his fireplace and out through Dumbledore's. He brushed soot and sparkling Floo powder out of his long hair and off his baggy Whitney Houston T-shirt and bell-bottom jeans -- clearly wherever he'd been in Bolivia, he'd been dressed more to interact with Muggles than with wizards, and he hadn't bothered changing on the way. Even so, sticking out of the side pockets of his jeans were not one but two wands: his original white Aspen wand in his left and another blackthorn wand Dumbledore hadn't seen before in his right.

"Was that a present, Jacob?" asked the Headmaster, eying the new wand with interest. "The carvings look distinctly unlike Garrick's varieties."

"It was made by a wizard member of the Navajo Nation," said Jacob shortly. "So yeah, of course it's not like Ollivander's work."

Dumbledore cocked his eyebrows. "Then you've learned how to duel with two wands simultaneously? That's most impressive. But, I suppose, unsurprisingly so, given how talented of a duelist you've always been..."

"Not talented enough that you were willing to risk keeping me at school after R forced me to join them, though, eh?" Jacob said sardonically.

He crossed his arms, slouching so that his hip popped out and his left leg stuck out a bit at an angle as he stared Dumbledore down.

"Stop jive-talking, old man, I didn't come here for that. Now give it to me straight -- is Voldemort back?"

Dumbledore's expression grew more grave.

"Yes, Jacob. I'm afraid he is."

Jacob's skull-like blue eyes narrowed. He didn't look surprised or scared -- instead he nodded in grim acceptance as he looked away in the direction of Fawkes sitting on his perch.

"I presume Carewyn told you," said Dumbledore.

Jacob snorted. "Obviously. Pip wrote to Mum and me as soon as she found out what happened to Diggory."

His eyes darkened as they drifted up toward the ceiling.

"...I remember the kid from the Sunken Vault," he muttered. "He was part of the group that helped Pip and me -- the Circle of Khanna. He didn't deserve this."

Dumbledore's expression softened sadly.

"No," he said quietly. "No, he did not. Cedric was a brave, loyal, selfless young man -- he deserved a far longer and happier life."

The Headmaster crossed the room back over to his desk.

"So too does Harry. So does he, a mere boy of fourteen, deserve a long and happy life, when he had to fight for his life and only just barely made it back to Hogwarts with Cedric's body. So too do his classmates, who mourn Cedric's death same as our school mourned Rowan Khanna...and Duncan Ashe."

The mention of his boy best friend made Jacob visibly twitch. His eyes flashed at Dumbledore like a warning, but the Headmaster regarded him solemnly over his half-moon spectacles.

"Jacob...I hesitate to even bring this up, when your distaste of me is more than apparent," he cocked his eyebrows in rather pointed wryness, "but since you've come so far to meet with me, and since Carewyn has been in contact with you, I can only presume you know that I have decided to act, in response to this turn of events."

"Form your own army to fight old Moldy Shorts, you mean?" said Jacob. "Yeah, Pip told me. She also told me you wanted to recruit her to join it, even when you know she hates fighting," he added rather coldly.

"Both I and other members of our group knew that your sister would be invaluable to our cause, as a combatant or not," Dumbledore answered lightly. "I must confess that I also thought it more likely that we could receive aid from Carewyn than from you, given that she's only prone to express cold disapproval toward me, rather than active hostility." His blue eyes sparkled with some amusement as he added, "And of course Carewyn is far easier to get in touch with."

"I get in touch with those I want to be in touch with," Jacob spat. "I have no interest in getting letters from people who can't mind their potatoes."

"Like Olympe Maxime?" Dumbledore asked with a dewy smile. "She spoke very highly of you over breakfast, the morning after she first arrived...it was nice to see Filius beaming so brightly, hearing the head of Beauxbatons speak so highly of one of his students."

Jacob was a bit startled by this, but he stubbornly tried to obscure the pride he likely felt hearing this with irritation.

"I thought I told you I'm not here to chew the fat with you," he said shortly.

Dumbledore gave an amused shake of the head. "Yes, I suppose you did. Well then? What is it that you do wish to discuss with me?"

Jacob put a hand on his hip. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here to join your bloody army."

Now this took Dumbledore aback. His eyebrows rose very high

"Look -- for however much of a shady minger you are, everyone knows you're the most powerful wizard in the world -- at least, on the non-Dark-Magic side of things," Jacob said brusquely. "If you say old Morty's back, then clearly he is. It'd be idiotic and pointless for you to lie about something like that, especially when anyone with a brain cell knew there was a damn good chance that creep was going to come back sooner or later. If anyone's going to have a chance standing toe to toe with Voldemort, it's sure as hell not going to be Fudge: it's going to be you. And if that coot Corny is really so determined to put his head in the sand about this, then I intend to align myself with those people who intend to actually do something, not just pussyfoot around and stupidly act like everything's fine."

Jacob's eyes narrowed upon Dumbledore's face.

"However much I don't like you -- however much I know Pip doesn't either -- you can't do this on your own. That much is obvious. And I would've fought old Lord Stupid-Name the first time if I'd been old enough, so why the hell wouldn't I do it now? Even if it does have to be alongside the likes of you."

Dumbledore's light blue eyes actually twinkled.

"...You'll fight with us for the greater good, then?" he asked.

"For goodness's sake, period," Jacob shot back. "How I feel about you has nothing to do with good versus evil: I just think you're a Machiavellian old geezer who thinks you always know best. This fight, on the other hand, is."

Dumbledore's face broke out into a smile.

"Indeed it is."

Sweeping up his long, bell-shaped sleeve, he extended a wrinkled hand.

"Very well, Jacob...I accept your application. Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix."

Jacob cocked his eyebrows at Dumbledore and then at Fawkes, before he took the Headmaster's hand and curtly shook it.

"'Order of the Phoenix,' huh? Hm. Decent name -- here I was imagining you marching around as head of a 'Dumbledore's Army' or something..."

"Coming from you, that's quite a compliment," Dumbledore said amusedly as Jacob withdrew his hand.

His expression became a bit more kind.

"...Thank you, Jacob. I mean that wholeheartedly. I'm truly pleased to see you, once again, prove yourself to be a very brave and noble young man."

Jacob shot Dumbledore a miffed look and opened his mouth, and Dumbledore chuckled.

"Forgive me...I know you don't wish any such compliments from me. Perhaps if Minerva echoed them, they might be easier to accept? I'm certain she would agree with me, when she learns you've chosen to join us."

"I'd rather you give me something useful to do so I don't have to listen to you trying in vain to butter me up," Jacob said exasperatedly.

"Very well. I actually was hoping you would consider stopping by Knockturn Alley and making contact with Mundungus Fletcher. He's already answered my call to arms, but I anticipate that to get some of the information we need about Voldemort's forces, he may need a talented duelist to back him up."

"To save his arse, you mean," scoffed Jacob.

"In so many words, yes," said Dumbledore with a wry smile.

Jacob sighed tiredly and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Maybe while I'm there, I'll get some of that information we need myself. I'd love to know what Lucius Malfoy has been up to, for instance..."

"Lucius Malfoy is a practical person to look into," Dumbledore agreed. "Harry even said he saw Lucius there in the Graveyard, with Voldemort. I imagine he would be the sort to desire a position of leadership, among Voldemort's supporters."

Jacob nodded curtly as he turned on his heel, striding back toward the fireplace.

"Be careful, Jacob," Dumbledore cautioned him. "Knockturn Alley is likely to be more dangerous since you were last there."

"If any of those Dark-Magic-happy losers want at me, let them give it their best shot," said Jacob with a cold smirk, tapping his temple significantly. "It'd take a damn accomplished Occlumens for me to not sense them coming. And if they are, groovy -- I'm always up for an actual challenge."

He stepped into the fireplace, threw down some Floo Powder from the mantle at his feet, shouted, "Three Broomsticks, room 21!" and disappeared in another flare of green flames.

[nocontext-hphm]

[eternalchaoschocolaterain]

Dumbledore remembers Merula's existence.

I don't like him. Always pretending to help when doing nothing.