#i also like the idea of a really strict school like a dormitory where you are NOT allowed to get up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewidowsghost · 4 years ago

Text

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 4

3rd Person POV

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers follow Harry from the moment he and Ron left their dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms standing on tip-toe to get a look at him. Harry wishes they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were the doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, Harry thinks, because it all seems to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and (Y/N) and Hermione were sure that the suits of amour would walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist when you were late to class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" The only person that Peeves seemed to get along with was, strangely, (Y/N). When she would pass by him in the halls, he would ask how her day was going. The first time, (Y/N) was shocked, looking surprised at the poltergeist, then she nodded saying, "Uh, its going pretty well."

Even worse than Peeves, Harry thinks, if that was possible, was the caretaker Argus Filch. Harry and Ron manage to get on the wrong side of him on their first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, he was sure that they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone – except perhaps the Weasley twins – and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Marvel, (Y/n)'s black and white kitten had taken to attacking the dust colored feline whenever she had the chance.

Then, once you manage to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

(Y/N) enjoyed Wednesday nights where they went out to the tallest tower and learned the names of different planets and stars. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class, in (Y/N)'s eyes, was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns hand been very old when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while the students scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Hermione had told (Y/N) that she actually liked the class, and (Y/N) looked down at her.

"Honestly, Hermione," (Y/N) teases, "I'm not surprised."

One of (Y/N)'s favorite classes so far had to be Charms. Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name, he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, (Y/N) rolling her eyes.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she tells them. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then, she changes her desk into a pig and back again. They were very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon they realized that they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After they take a lot of complicated notes, they were given a match and told to start turning it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger, and (Y/N) (L/N)-Granger had made any differences to their match. Professor McGonagall shows the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gives the two a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turn out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, hand been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnegan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell goes pink, and starts talking about the weather. For another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.

There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron, the two had managed to find their way to the Great hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asks Ron as he pours sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron answers. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," says Harry. Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor House, but it didn't stop her from giving them a huge pile of homework the night before.

Just then, the mail arrives. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She would sometimes fly in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she flutters down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and drops a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tears open the letter at once, and it says, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,

I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry, borrowing Ron's quill, scribbles, Yes, please, see you later on the back fo the note, and sends Hedwig off again.

(Y/n), who was sitting across from Harry and Ron, and between Hermione and Fred Weasley, had just received a letter herself.

Dear (Y/n),

My name is Remus Lupin. You mother named me as you godfather, and I was good friends with both your mother and Harry Potter's parents when I was at Hogwarts.

I left you a box of presents and letter in you Gringotts vault, in a large wooden box. I didn't know if you had picked it up or not, but I decided that it was time that I sent you a letter at school. I hope you're doing well.

Love,

Uncle Remus

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry got the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry – he hated him.

Potions lesson took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call and like Flitwick, he pauses at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he says softly, "Harry Potter, our new – celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle snigger behind their hands. Snape finishes calling the names and looks up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made (Y/N) think of a dark tunnel.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," the Potion Master begins. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence follows this little speech. Harry and Ron exchange looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione and Iliana were on the edges of their seats and Hermione looks desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" says Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glances at Ron, who looks as stumped as he was; Hermione, Iliana, and (Y/N) had all raised their hands.

"I don't know, sir," Harry says.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't anything."

He ignores Hermione and (Y/n)'s hands, his gaze flicking between Harry and (Y/N)'s hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape asks.

Hermione's hand stretched higher into the air, as far as it would go without her leaving her seat and (Y/N) leaves her hand into the air.

Harry didn't have to faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answers.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape taunts, (Y/N) frowning slightly.

Harry forces himself to keep looking into Snape's cold, dark eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?"

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's hand, still glancing between Harry and (Y/N).

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asks, and (Y/N) and Hermione's hands remained in the air, Hermione standing up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon's ceiling.

"I don't know," says Harry quietly. "I think Hermione and (Y/N) know, why don't you try them?"

A few people laugh; Harry catches (Y/n)'s eye, and she winks at him. Snape however was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snaps at Hermione, "(L/N), answer the questions," Snape says, his head snapping to look at (Y/N).

(Y/N) straightens her back, clears her throat. "Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, but they also go by aconite. A bezoar is a stone taken from a goat that will save you from most poisons, and asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so strong that it is called the Draft of Living Death." (Y/N) rattles off, Harry and Ron exchanging shocked looks.

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor," Snape says to (Y/N), before snapping at the other students, "Well, why aren't you coping that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, and over the noise, Snape says, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor because of Potter's cheek." At this, (Y/N) turns around from her place in front of Ron, and smiles sympathetically at him.

Things didn't really improve much for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape set the first-years into pairs and set them to mixing a potion to cure boils, sweeping around in his black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush shake fang, criticizing everyone but Malfoy and (Y/N), whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at how well (Y/N) had stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing fills the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools wile Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moans in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarls Snape, clearing the potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpers as boils start popping up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the Hospital Wing," Snape snaps at Seamus. Then he rounds on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd made you look good if helot it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry thinks this is so unfair, he opens his mouth to argue, but Ron kicks him from behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," Ron mutters as (Y/N) turn around to look at him, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As the first years climb the stairs out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racking and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week – why did Snape hate him so much? At least (Y/N) had won those ten points for Gryffindor.

"Cheer up," Ron tells Harry, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?" he asks.

(Y/n)'s POV

Hermione and I are walking up from the dungeons behind Harry and Ron after the end of Potions Class.

"I noticed something strange," Hermione says.

"What?" I ask.

"Professor Snape seems to like you a lot," Hermione says, looking at me with her brown eyes.

"That was kind of weird," I agree, looking forward, then back at Hermione.

"Maybe he was wondering how you got to be so good at Potions," Hermione suggests. "You were the only one of us with a perfect potion."

"Yeah, that must have been it," I say as we enter the Great Hall.

After lunch, the two of us walk outside to sit by the Black Lake. I see Ron and Harry walking down to Hagrid's Hut, and I hear a faint barking coming from the same direction.

"Hello (Y/n)," comes one, well two, voices.

I look up to see the Weasley twins standing above me and my sister.

"Hey Fred, George," I answer cheerfully.

"Whacha first years doing out here?" Fred asks.

"Well, the first week of school is over," Hermione begins, her frizzy hair blowing in the wind.

"So we're enjoying the last of the summer air," (Y/n) finishes for her sister.

"(Y/n), we have a question for you," George says.

"What?" I ask curiously.

Fred and George look at each other before saying in unison, "Do you like funeral marches.

Hermione bursts into laughter at the question, and Fred and George sit down beside the two of us.

"Well, of course," I say, grinning. "It's my favorite song," I begin to hum a slow funeral march, and the Weasley twins join in, Hermione exchanges a look with me, shrugs, then joins in.

Word Count: 2887 words

Well, I'll see you see on the next chapter.

See y'all!

Love,

Kaitlynn ❤️😍

#hermione granger #hermione granger x sister reader #harry potter various x reader #harry potter #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley

26 notes · View notes

official-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 6

PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Chapter 6 - Christmas Weasley

Nova

It was the last week of October and I think it's safe to say that we finally got used to doing homework and all the professors. Tulip and I are proud to say that it has been 13 days since we last got lost on our way to lessons.

Now that we went through all the subjects a couple of times and it feels more real since we don't have any more introductions in classes, I have to say that I was surprised how well I was doing in Charms. When we did the Levitation Charm I was the first to get the feather flying almost to the ceiling. I also managed to cast Lumos on my first try and so far have been so good that I've earned Ravenclaw 35 points in just that class.

Tulip wasn't doing that bad in Charms either, even though she was beating us all in Astronomy, for which we later found out that her uncle is an Astronomer and has been teaching her since she was 5.

Penny, of course, was exceeding in Potions, something not even Snape could deny. She knew the answer to every one of his questions and when we finally had to brew our first potion, she had to help all three of us not to blow up half of the Dungeons.

History of Magic was still as dull as ever, something even Penny couldn't deny as Tonks told us one day, having dinner, that she was drooling on her notes, after falling asleep in the middle of the lesson. Penny denied the accusation and said that she was just resting her head because she stayed up all night working on her Transfiguration homework.

Speaking of Transfiguration, it is by far my favorite subject! I had no idea how I will do in the class and what exactly was expected from us as every time I saw Professor McGonagall she seemed so strict. I wasn't wrong about that as she gave detention to Tulip the first time she came in class 5 minutes late because she was confident she could find the classroom on her own and get one more piece of toast instead of going with me.

Because I was one of the first to arrive in class, I sat down in the second row on the right side and after a couple of Gryffindors came in I spotted the redhead immediately.

“Nova! I forgot we had this class together!” Charlie sat next to me without even asking if the seat was taken.

“Isn't Jae going to be mad if you don't sit next to him?” I knew now that the boy Charlie was spending the most time with was Jae Kim, a fellow First Year with whom Charlie also shared his dormitory. It was getting quite annoying sending notes across class to each other in subjects we had together so I didn't mind Charlie sitting next to me.

Besides, I wanted to prove to Tulip that she should've gone with me to class.

“Nah, we can't be together all the time and besides I want to spend more time with you.” He grinned at me. “And if it happens that you're good at Transfiguration I can benefit from it as well.” He was taking a couple of pieces of parchment out of his bag.

Perhaps Charlie was going to be great at Divination if he decides to take the subject as I was indeed amazing in Transfiguration. At first, I thought I was just lucky when I transfigured a matchstick into a needle perfectly. Then it also happened with the quill which was in perfect condition transformed from a fork.

Charlie was in awe at first and was excited that I was going to be the one who helps him with his Transfiguration homework. Much to his and Tulip's disappointment, I've made them do the homework in the Library on their own. However, I was with them all the time and I did check and correct it when they were done with it.

After I also cast Revelio correctly on my second try, Professor McGonagall made me stay after class one day to talk about having Advanced Classes in my Second Year if my talent would continue to grow. I accepted at once and I couldn't wait to tell my mum as Transfiguration was one of her favorite subjects as well.

We didn't do any practical magic in Defense Against the Dark Arts yet, but we have learned about a lot of dangerous creatures which Charlie and I always discussed after class.

—

The day after the 'slug incident' as Tulip liked to call it, I woke up very early as I kept thinking about how I have to finish my drawing of Pip. I decided to get out of bed and go down for breakfast alone. I knew I could bring Pip with me so I thought I could finish the drawing while munching on my toast.

I went to the Owlery and for the first time, I had to actually wake Pip up and he wasn't so happy to see me as he wished to sleep for a little while longer. Nonetheless, he gave in to my strokes on his head and hopped on my arm. Together we made way to the Great Hall which was practically deserted except for a couple of Ravenclaws that were half asleep and looked like they were studying for their O.W.L.s.

I put some jelly on my toast and opened my notebook.

“Now, where were we Pip?” I took out one of my pencils. I started working on the feathers again and was quite happy with the progress I was able to make since Pip was too tired to peek at his portrait.

“Good morning, Nova.” I heard a really sleepy voice say behind me.

“Mind if I sit next to you?” Charlie asked, sitting down before I could even answer him. I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw what a mess his red hair was.

“Good morning. What are you doing up already?” I helped myself to another piece of toast, while Pip was trying to get some of the crumbs left behind from my last one.

“We got a lot of homework yesterday by Professor Snape and I better get on it before I forget.” He shuffled a few spoons of cereal into his bowl. “Name and describe seven differences between the Wiggenweld Potion and Blood Replenishing Pooo...tion.” He yawned.

“Seven differences, what did you do to Snape?” I gasped.

“How did you know we managed to destroy a cauldron?” He poured milk over his cereal now.

“I didn't, I just thought you had to do something wrong since we only got three differences.” I put more jelly on my toast as I decided one thick layer wasn't enough. “And how did you manage to destroy a cauldron on your first lesson? We weren't even working with them?”

“Well, one of the Slytherins wanted to show off by performing the Fire Making Charm under the cauldron and it exploded.”

“A cauldron exploded, where?” Penny interrupted my laughing. She had a concerned look on her face. She was followed by Tonks who looked as if Penny woke her up so abruptly that she will never recover.

They didn't even sit down properly when Tulip came running to our table, panting.

“I...thought...I...missed...breakfast.” She said, trying to catch her breath.

“Tulip you have got to get a watch.” Penny chuckled.

“And who is this red-haired laddie?” Tonks reminded me that I haven't introduced Charlie to them yet.

“Oh, right! Sorry, Charlie. Tonks, Tulip, Penny this is Charlie. The boy I told you about yesterday. Charlie this are Tonks, Tulip and Penny.”

“Nice to meet you!” They exclaimed as they each shook his hand.

“Do you mind if he seats with us?” I asked, not knowing if they would be bothered by having breakfast with a boy.

“Get off it! He's one of us now.” Said Tonks while stuffing a huge piece of toast in her mouth. Charlie couldn't help but blush a little.

“Say, Charlie, Penny is really good at potions, perhaps she can help you with your homework.” I said while trying to make Pip, now completely awake, to be still.

“Homework, Potions homework?! What do you need?” Penny was so excited about what I just said that I thought she was going to scare Charlie away from our table.

He just chuckled and told her all about the cauldron, for which of course she scolded him as if it was his fault and then helped him with his homework so much that he was done before the beginning of the first class.

—

On Halloween, the girls and I decided to visit Hagrid and take him up on his offer of rock cakes and tea. We loved how beautiful the whole school was, now decorated in candles, spider webs and there were pumpkins everywhere.

We made our way down to Hagrid's hut, announced of course, with a letter Pip took to Hagrid one day prior. Hagrid was delighted that we were going to visit him and told us to come down after breakfast. Even though it was Wednesday, the lessons were canceled for the Halloween celebration which was happening at dinner.

Once Hagrid's hut was visible, we could see he has decorated it with webs and there were pumpkin patches all around it.

We knocked on his door and could hear a bark, which could only have come from a really small puppy. When Hagrid opened the door, a soft grin on his face, Penny got knocked down to the floor by Fang to which we got introduced after we helped Penny get up.

We promised ourselves not to say anything about Hagrid's rock cakes as indeed they were hard as rocks and kept making excuses that we have to save ourselves for dinner. Tea, however, we didn't mind and we drank about 5 kettles of it. Hagrid told us all about why he is living on the Grounds and he couldn't stop saying nice things about our Headmaster Dumbledore as he was very grateful for the position he gave him at the school.

It was almost time for the dinner celebration in the Great Hall when I had to wake Fang, who fell asleep on my lap because I couldn't stop scratching him behind his ear. He got off me not very happy about it and we thanked Hagrid for the tea and the cakes and ran up to our Houses to change, our stomachs growling as we didn't eat much at Hagrid's.

The feast was even greater than the one we had on our first day at Hogwarts. Of course, Tulip and I were a bit bummed as Tonks and Penny couldn't join us. For bigger celebrations and events, students had to sit at their House Table.

When the feast officially ended and a lot of students left the Great Hall we could finally be joined again. Charlie also sat down next to me, looking a bit blue.

“What's wrong, Charlie?” I asked while Tonks was still nibbling on a chicken leg.

“It's my birthday in December and this is going to be the first time I spend it on my own. Of course, I have my brother Bill...”

“And us!” Penny interrupted him. I could already see her planning a birthday party for him.

“Wait, your birthday is in December?” I finally looked away from Penny's cheering face.

“Yeah, why?” Said Charlie a bit cheered up.

“My birthday's in December too. When exactly is yours?” I asked.

“The 12th.” Charlie said surprised.

“Hers is on the 14th!” Penny showed excitement for me.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun! You two can celebrate birthdays together!” Said Tulip, mimicking Penny. I chuckled as I knew she was only doing so to mock her.

“Wicked, I would love to!” We were all so excited that Charlie completely forgot he was sad about not having his family here for his birthday.

“Why don't we go down to Hagrid's and celebrate there?”

“Oh, that's a great idea, Tonks! Nobody will bother us and we can have some of Hagrid's delicious tea.” Penny applauded Tonks.

“You guys are friends with Hagrid as well?” Charlie beamed.

“We just met him today officially but he is amazing and so nice. How do you know him?” I said while putting the finishing touches on my Pip portrait.

“Oh, I have been going there since the first week. Ever since I saw he has a puppy. How adorable is Fang?” We all nodded in agreement. “And he is giving me all these amazing books about animals and he promised me to take me into the Forbidden Forest next year. I keep trying to persuade him to take me this year but he reckons I'm too young and we could both get in trouble.” Charlie sighed.

“That settles it then.” Penny said slowly as I could see she was debating in her head why would anyone in their right mind want to go to the Forbidden Forest of their own free will. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get Charlie alone to ask him to owl me as soon as Hagrid agrees to take him, as I would love to join them.

“We just have to figure out how to bring some of our own food, since Hagrid's rock cakes aren't the best to, well, chew on.” Charlie clutched his lips as if his teeth were still hurting from biting into Hagrid's cakes. We all chuckled in agreement.

“I think Tonks and I can handle that one.” Said Tulip proudly.

I scribbled a message for Hagrid on a piece of parchment and gave it to Pip. However, he refused to go before I showed him his portrait.

“Alright, alright. Here you go.” I turned the notebook to him. He tilted his head for almost 90 degrees and stared at it for a couple of seconds. Tonks and Tulip who were on the other side of the table looked as well. When Pip hooted in agreement that he likes how I portrayed him, I turned the notebook to Penny and Charlie who felt left out for seeing it last.

“Another brilliant drawing, Nova.” Complimented Charlie.

“You are so talented. I wish I could draw like this.” Penny said, disappointed.

“You can't have both a pretty handwriting and know how to draw.” Tonks rolled her eyes playfully at her.

“She's right, you do have pretty handwriting.” Charlie said, half to himself as he was copying some of Penny's Potions notes. Penny couldn't hide the blush on her cheeks so she pretended to talk to Pip.

—

My birthday has always been amazing but nothing compared to the one I had with my friends at Hogwarts. As planned, we all gathered at Hagrid's on my birthday after we finished our lessons on Friday.

Charlie and I almost got into a fight as we couldn't decide when to celebrate. I was quite alright with celebrating my birthday on his birthday so that he wouldn't have to wait for two more days, while he insisted that it would be rude to me not to celebrate my birthday properly and that his birthday was in the middle of the week anyway and was more convenient to do it on my birthday which was on Friday. I agreed after Charlie didn't want to hear another word about it. He even waited until Friday to open all the presents his family has sent him. Of course, we also invited his brother Bill, who was delighted to accept the invitation and was very happy to see Charlie was finally doing well and finding more friends.

We had so much fun that night at Hagrid's. We drank tea and ate so much food which we later found out Tonks and Tulip smuggled from the Kitchens. Of course, they didn't want to tell us how they got in and kept giggling instead, every time we asked them.

Fang was rather conflicted as Charlie and I fought who was going to pet him next but he didn't complain at all when we finally agreed that sitting in front of the fire, both scratching him at the same time wasn't so bad either.

Even though Hagrid's rock cakes stayed untouched, he surprised Charlie and me with a birthday cake. It had 13 candles on it, pink frosting, and Happee Birthdae Charlie and Nova scribbled on it. Charlie and I each went on one side of the cake, looked at each other, closed our eyes, and blew our candles.

I've made a wish to always have such an amazing time with my friends as my First Year at Hogwarts has been nothing but great so far.

It was then time for us to open presents. Charlie got a jumper with the letter C on it from his mum. A bag full of candy and firecrackers from his twin brothers Fred and George. Something that Penny named a Rubber Duck from his dad, with a note attached that he should see if it floats on the Black Lake and a brand new edition of From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon-Keeper's Guide from Bill, for which Charlie jumped up so much that Hagrid's hut shook a little and we all laughed.

Tonks and Tulip gave Charlie a scarf with a Dragon embroidered on it. Penny gave him a book on Potions for easier understanding and I gave him a book I've made myself. I called it Fantastic Dragons and How to Train Them. Inside were my drawings of every known species of Dragons and descriptions of the most important details to know of each breed.

It seemed I've made everyone speechless, as they were staring at the book, while Charlie was slowly turning the pages, as his cheeks became slightly pink. He then put the book down and gave me the type of hug my mum usually gave me when she was super proud of something I did.

I got a scarf from Tonks and Tulip as well, just that mine had a Niffler on it. Penny bought me a set of magical pencils that dependingon how you rub them draw in different patterns. Bill gave me a new notebook with a special type of paper that changed colors depending on what you draw on it and Charlie gave me a necklace that had a little Dragon as a charm.

He showed me that if you rubbed the Dragon gently, it would breathe fire and I was in awe of how thoughtful his gift was. I put it on at once, bending my head down as I tried to hide my watery eyes.

Hagrid's gift for both of us was a set of 10 tea bags he made especially for us and we each got a book about Magical Creatures called The Creature Care.

That night when we finally said goodbye and Tulip and I climbed the stairs of the Ravenclaw Common Room, our family owl Waffle was waiting for me on the window shelf of our dorm. I opened the window to let her in and I took the letter and the present from her.

I must've frowned when I was reading the letter as Tulip rushed to my side. “Nova, what's wrong?”

I looked at her, sadly. “I think I'm going to spend Christmas alone.” I said miserably.

“My mum wrote to me. She was sent for Azkaban duty during the Christmas holidays and my dad is stuck in Egypt as they've just discovered a new tomb.” Tulip sat on my bed, putting her hand on my back, rubbing it in circles.

“Blimey Nova, if I knew I would've asked my parents to stay.”

“No, no. It's fine. You should go home and see your family. I know you can't wait to see your parents again.” I sniffed as my nose clogged from tears gathering in my eyes.

“We ALL want to see our families, Nova. You could ask Tonks or Penny if they could stay.” She tried to cheer me up.

“No, no. Penny has to go home as her sister can't wait for her to tell her all about Hogwarts. And Tonks, even though she doesn't want to admit it, misses her parents as well.” I put on a fake smile. “I'll be fine, really. I'll have Pip and I can play with all the amazing presents you guys gave me!” Tulip smiled at me, trying to hide that she felt sorry for me.

That night I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking what will I do for the Christmas holidays all alone. I didn't think this was going to happen and as much as my aunt could be annoying squeezing my cheeks and feeding me her not-so-tasty pie, I was seriously considering going to her for the holidays.

But then I remembered. I didn't know if Charlie was leaving home for Christmas. That's when I decided to owl him in the morning, to ask him what his plans for the holidays were.

I woke up with the sun gently brushing my face. I wrote Charlie a letter, asking him about his Christmas plans and thanking him again for the necklace, which I was still wearing.

I sent Pip to the Gryffindor Tower in the hopes that I wouldn't wake him up. I knew how much he liked to sleep in.

Pip found me not even an hour later in the Courtyard. I opened Charlie's letter at once.

Hi Nova,

I am so sorry to hear that you won't be able to spend Christmas with your mum and dad. But Bill and I are going home, mum misses us too much.

If you'd like I can ask her if you can join us? I'm sure she wouldn't mind.

Love, Charlie

I smiled at how small his handwriting was. Christmas with the Weasleys? Bill and Charlie were so amazing, I think their family can't be any different. I sent Pip back with a reply that if his family really wouldn't mind I would love to spend Christmas with them at the Burrow.

The next week went by as fast as you can say Kneazle. Our professors gave us so much homework to do over the holidays that I kind of regretted not staying at Hogwarts.

Penny in the meantime, couldn't stop talking about all the Muggle pastries her dad was going to make, for which Tonks and I couldn't deny, sounded delicious.

Tulip was waiting to pack almost until the last day, while Penny scolded her that she should've done it already and that she has been packed since the weekend of my and Charlie's birthday party.

The day before I was supposed to go spend time with Bill and Charlie's family Tonks, Penny, Tulip, Charlie, and I were sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast. Charlie was just explaining how each year they enchant a gnome and put it on the Christmas tree without their mum noticing. Which gave a brilliant idea to Tonks and made Tulip laugh so much that I thought she was going to fall off the bench.

I was about to put a spoon full of cereal in my mouth when an owl flew straight into my bowl, splashing us all with milk. Errol hooted confusingly as she had a couple of corn flakes on her head. Tonks flicked it off her, while Charlie took the letter she had tied around her ankle and frowned.

I placed my head on his shoulder as I read the letter with him.

My dear Charlie,

I am sorry to say that you and Bill ought to stay at Hogwarts this Christmas. Your brothers thought it would be funny if they set a whole package of Filibuster's Fireworks off in the living room.

Thanks to them, we are going to spend Christmas cleaning up the mess they've made. I would rather see that you, Bill, and your friend Nova spend a nice, quiet Christmas at Hogwarts.

I have already written Dumbledore a letter to sign you up on the list of students who are staying for Christmas as it is too late for you to do it.

Don't worry, you'll still get your presents and know you will be missed greatly.

Please give this letter to Bill if he's not reading it with you.

Love and lots of hugs,

Mum

“Oh, Charlie I am so sorry.” I hugged him.

“What's going on?” Asked Penny confused.

“My bloody brothers, that's what!” Charlie said, so mad that even his freckles got red.

“Language little brother.” Bill came to our table and upon seeing Errol playing with Tonks said: “What did Fred and George do now?”

“They blew up the bloody living room with them fireworks they always carry around.” Charlie was still frowning and gave Bill the letter.

Bill rolled his eyes slightly then smiled at Charlie.

“Look, we can make a nice Christmas for ourselves right here, can't we Nova?” He winked at me to encourage his idea.

“Yeah, we can celebrate here, see how the Castle looks in the snow. Perhaps have a snowball fight?”

“Hey, I want a snowball fight!” Tonks intervened.

“It's not going to be the same. I miss mum and dad, and Ginny and Ron. Even Percy and those cheeky trouble-makers.” Charlie frowned at the last few words. “And how are we supposed to celebrate Christmas with Nova? She is not allowed in our Common Room. We won't even be able to open the presents together.” He added.

“Charlie, listen. We can work something out. We can be here in the Great Hall on Christmas Eve for as long as they'll let us and then in the morning we can bring our Christmas presents here and open them together, what do you say?” Bill ruffled his hair.

“Oh, alright.” He said and let Bill squeeze him in a hug.

Later that afternoon we said goodbye to Tonks, Penny, Tulip, and Jae as they were all packed and ready to go to Hogsmeade Station to catch the train home.

On Christmas Eve it was just as Bill promised. We were sitting at the Gryffindor Table eating as many gingerbread cookies as our stomachs were letting us. I was drawing in the notebook Bill gave me while he was still explaining to me how exactly the enchanted paper worked. Charlie was trying a new hairdo on Pip, which he didn't appreciate as much as he appreciated the attention Charlie was giving him.

It was getting rather late. The time passed so quickly as Bill and Charlie were telling me all the stories of their previous Christmas when Fred and George almost set the Christmas tree on fire. How they were happy when they found out they are finally getting a sister and how their brother Percy is something else in the family. Bill then told me the secret recipe for Christmas cookies their mum makes every year to which they made me swear I will never tell her that I know and how their dad was obsessed with everything Muggle-related, which explained the rubber duck Charlie got for his birthday.

We then said goodbye as the boys went to the Gryffindor Tower and I went to Ravenclaw's. When I woke up in the morning, I couldn't help but feel excited. I put Tulip's Christmas present on her bed and as the Hufflepuff Prefect stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas as well, I decided to ask her, if she could put Tonks' and Penny's presents on their beds.

I put on a hoodie and the most comfortable pants I could find as I was still full from the previous day. Then I grabbed all my Christmas presents that were waiting for me at my bedside and rushed to the Great Hall.

Bill and Charlie were already there and Charlie beamed with excitement when he spotted me.

“There you are! What took you so long!” Charlie hurried me to take a seat at the Gryffindor Table.

“He meant to say good morning, he is just too excited for the presents.” Bill apologized on Charlie's behalf. “See, mum felt so bad that Charlie and I couldn't come home for Christmas that we both got an extra present.” Bill explained Charlie's excitement.

I chuckled as Charlie threw all of them on the table.

“This one's for you Nova,” he handed me a big soft package wrapped in red gift paper. “And this one.” Continued Charlie, as he gave me another, now a smaller soft package. “This one is from me.” Charlie beamed proudly as he gave me yet another present.

“If this one is from you, who are the other two presents from?” I was in awe at how many presents they had for me.

“Well, this one is from me.” Bill shook the small package Charlie gave me before. “And this one,” he said while blushing a little, “is from our mum. She felt bad that she couldn't meet you.” Bill chuckled as he pointed at the red soft package.

I gave Charlie and Bill each their present. Charlie opened it at once and he gasped when he saw what he got. I got him a snowball in which I recreated the Burrow as much as Bill could help me in detail.

“Since you can't go home for Christmas, I thought I'd ask Bill to help me bring home to you.” I smiled. I couldn't help but notice that his eyes got watery.

“Th-thank you.” Was all he could say, his eyes still on the snowball.

I got Bill a new Gryffindor tie as his old one was looking rather ghastly after he didn't take proper precautions in his last Potions class.

I opened their mum's present first and when they saw what I got they both chuckled. It was a navy blue Christmas jumper with baby blue N in the middle.

“Mum gives us one every year. When you get a Christmas jumper from our mum, you officially become a Weasley.” Charlie grinned.

I didn't know what to say. I took off my hoodie and took a while to get the jumper over my head so that I could cover my red cheeks. It was so soft.

“I love it! I didn't get anything for her though.” I felt bad.

“Don't worry, Nova. She doesn't make these to expect something in return.” Bill showed on the jumper he was wearing. His was burgundy with a golden W on it, while Charlie's was green with a red C on it.

I then opened Charlie's present which had a little notebook in it. “It's a self-doodler.” He explained excitedly.

“A self-what?” I opened the notebook and found it empty.

“You turn to the desired page, tap it with a wand, and whisper the creature you would like to see. Try it. He took my wand out of my back pocket and handed it to me.

I tapped on one of the pages and whispered: “Niffler.” Something started to form on the page. It was as if someone was drawing the creature in front of me.

“It draws all common creatures on your demand. The sketch stays there until you close the notebook. I thought it might come in handy when you draw.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Char...Charlie, this must've cost a fortune.” Was all I could say as his gift left me speechless. I looked at him and caught him quickly glance at Bill. I looked at Bill and he winked at me, indicating that he helped Charlie to buy me the gift.

Lastly, I opened Bill's present and chuckled when I saw it was a hat. It was amusing to me that we both got each other a piece of clothing.

After we ate our breakfast and opened the rest of our presents, Bill sent everything upstairs while we got dressed and headed outside. It was beautiful as snow has been falling all night and all morning. We went through the Main Courtyard and decided to go down to the Black Lake where we had an epic snowball fight and I couldn't help but think of how jealous Tonks was going to be when I tell her about it.

After 2 hours in the snow, we were practically freezing, so we decided to pay Hagrid a visit before heading back up to the Castle for dinner. He made us hot chocolate this time and Bill and Hagrid were in a heated discussion about creatures that might be found in ancient tombs as Charlie and I played with Fang.

I said goodbye to the boys and returned to the Ravenclaw Tower with the biggest grin on my face. I was wondering if mum and dad would be mad if I said that this was the best Christmas of my life. I completely forgot that I wasn't home for Christmas and by Charlie's excitement and the smile he had on his face when we parted ways I think it's safe to say that so did he.

12 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 4 years ago

Text

Lolicassé Profiles

(I'm so sorry for this I know it's ugly af!😭 the quality completely died when I imported the images into my computer.) Welcome one, welcome all! To Lolicassé the dorm of misfit toy! Founded on the intellect of the toymaker (though it's technically "founded" on a Micky mouse episode just like the Ramchakle dorm). The students in this dorm all use a classification of magic known as "creator" which permits them to build marvelous inventions and toys from simple everyday objects. Students here, are also able to transform into some sort of toy, which sometimes makes it hard to tell the students apart from the actual toys littering every corner of the dorm. If you are thinking of paying this dormitory little visit, BEWARE the students can get rather clingy and obsessed, and are not above using rather unorthodox means to keep their new playmate with them forever!

Meet the Students of this patched up dormitory.

Xerxes Starness Year/Class: Year 3 Class A Seat 8 Birthday: 18/01 (Capricorn) Age: 18 Height: 183 cm Dominant hand: left Origin: City of misfit toys Club: Robotics Best subject: physics Hobby: Inventing new devices and fixing up old inventions Bad with: Sleeping Favorite food: Chocolat Disliked food: any seafood Special skill: Fixing broken tech He is Lolicassé's dorm leader who can transform into a tiny remote control robot. He's a direct descendant of the original "founders" of the City of misfit toys. His childhood was rather isolated, having two very strict parents that we're obsessed with the idea of creating the "perfect child". Even in Night Raven he still continues to distance himself from other people, which has resulted in several rumors about him to rapidly spread.

Special ability Optical database When he looks directly at an object or person he is able to pull up numerous information about them. His brain is the equivalent of the world wide web. It is rumored that this isn't his original special ability and that his mother stole his birth ability instead of replacing it with a man-made ability

Edgar Ross Year/Class: Year 3 Class B Seat 26 Birthday: 04/04 (Aries) Age: 19 Height: 189 cm Dominant hand: left Origin: City of misfit toys Club: Magical Shift Club Best subject: Protective magic Hobby: Exercising Bad with: Not invading peoples personal space Favorite food: Anything with gravy on it. Disliked food: corn Special skill: Sharpshooting

He is Lolicassé's deputy dorm leader who was raised in a military household and in such pride himself on being the "perfect" soldier. He's rather old fashioned and keeps a formal attitude with whoever he meets. He devotes himself to "protecting" his dorm members which have caused him to get in multiple fights with students from other dorms. It is said that he idolizes Xerxes father. He can turn himself into a toy soldier like the rest of his family members.

Special Ability Icy bullet He is able to emit glacier bullets from his body that freeze what every they touch. Due to his polished target skills he hardly ever misses his target.

Ray Sanada Year/Class: Year 3 Class C Seat 19 Birthday: 24/06 (Cancer). ‎ Age: 18 Height: 177 cm Dominant hand: Right Origin: City of misfit toys Club: Studying movies club Best subject: Alchemy Hobby: Sewing dolls Bad with: Focusing on one task for long periods of time Favorite food: Strawberry cake Disliked food: anything grape flavored Special skill: Memorizing books quickly

An emotionless boy with a doll-like beauty that can transform into a porcelain victorian era doll. His beauty is rumored to rival that of the Pomefiore perfect. He is said to be deprived of emotions. He rarely speaks and doesn't have any friends. Some students say that they see him roaming the Ramshackle graveyard in the unholy hours of the night.

Special ability Dollhouse his special ability permits him to bring inanimate objects to life. However they have to be objects that he himself makes. As of right now his ability can only keep something alive for exactly 3 minutes and 52 seconds.

Ezequiel Autumn Year/Class: Year 2 Class B Seat 18 Birthday: 18/10 (Scorpio) Age: 17 Height: 182 cm Dominant hand: Right Origin: City of misfit toys Club: Board game club Best subject: Summoning Hobby: Video games Bad with: Talking to girls Favorite food: Soft drinks Disliked food: spicy foods Special skill: Hacking

A shut-in with absolutely no social skills. No one knows what exactly happened to his mother or any of his aunts but he was raised by his father and uncles. Due to this he rarely ever spoke to any girls and freezes whenever he has to talk to them. With the acceptance of his godmother who happens to be Xerxes' mother. He considers Xerxes his only real friend. He is able to transform into an anime figurine. It is rumored that he has a pair of wings though no one has ever seen them.

Special Ability White Raven, Black raven It is unclear if he was born with this ability or if it was implanted in him when he was a young child. But his voice is able to manipulate the will of others. After an unfortunate incident some students have speculated that he also has the ability to control the life span of those under the influence of his voice.

London Lore Year/Class: Year 2 Class C Seat 5 Birthday: 31/10 (Scorpio) Age: 17 Height: 179 cm Dominant hand: Right Origin: Villiage of Harvest Club: Basketball club Best subject: Summoning Hobby: Collecting buttons Bad with: Keeping track of time Favorite food: Pumpkin spice drinks Disliked food: watermelons/ gravy Special skill: Sewing customers

A lazy second-year student with an unsettling creepy aura around him. He can transform into a rag doll, although even in "toy form" he is still very unnerving to be around. He was created in the city of misfit toys, but raised in the Village of Harvest were his family owned a small farm where they mostly grew pumpkins and corn. The chain around his neck tethers his body and mind to the soul of a famous killer, although this is all just a rumor it's still more than enough to get other students to avoid him at all costs.

Special Ability Plague's kiss He can emit a deadly toxin from his body which causes people to transform into hideous monsters and submit to his will. Although even after years of practice he is only able to create a max of five monsters.

Valentino Kartinez Year/Class: Year 2 Class A Seat 3 Birthday: 09/09 (Virgo) Age: 17 Height: 173 cm Dominant hand: Right Origin: City of misfit toys Club: Science club Best subject: Arts Hobby: Hosting tea parties Bad with: Ripping open his stitches Favorite food: Cookies and milk Disliked food: Vegetables Special skill: Cooking and baking

A trickster, who's elaborate tea parties are talked about all over the school and usually gather a large crowd. He grew up in a crowded family consisting of 13 siblings in which he was the "middle" child. His family owned a famous chain of restaurants that were known for their "childlike glow". Due to the restaurants taking up much of his parent's time, Valentino became accustomed to staying at home and only having his siblings as companions. Although he did enjoy the company of his younger siblings he detested his older, bossier siblings. His toy form is that of an old mangled teddy bear.

Special ability Childhood tea party Valentino is able to create a lifelike simulation of someone's memory, however, the illusion only lasts up to four minutes.

Jess Box Year/Class: Year 1 Class A Seat 23 Birthday: 14/12 (Sagittarius) Age: 16 Height: 171 cm Dominant hand: Left Origin: City of misfit toys Club: Basketball club Best subject: Magical Pharmaceuticals Hobby: Designing tattoos Bad with: Keeping his voice down Favorite food: Pudding Disliked food: Raisins Special skill: Memorizing nursery rhymes

A loud, hyperactive claustrophobic first year who's voice seems to constantly be echoing around the halls. Despite being a Jack in the box, he hates small, dark, confinements. He's rather happy go lucky and usually doesn't care much about what goes on around him.

Special Ability Pop goes the Weasel His body becomes as flexible like a spring, permitting him to jump around and attach to walls. According to a certain hunter, Jess's special ability would make him an amazing huntsman. Although the first year seems to prefer using his power set to prank his classmates and teachers.

🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️ 🐻❤️

Alright so this is how I'm going to do things. Interactions are open for these characters, meaning you guys can send them asks (yandere or normal. How they would react to something/Someone up to you), just talk to them or whatever else you can come up with. I'll do my best to answer everything, whoever if I think an ask better deserves a drawing as an explanation I'll put it on hold and make a quick sketch for it later. This whole dorm was really a giant drawing practice and since I really want to start digital I might re-draw them later (not likely but we'll see). I'm thinking if these characters get popular (Idk 55 likes and maybe 10 interactions) I'll release sprites of the characters doing poses similar to the TW boys (basically how I imagine them if they where in the game) and maybe later even do some chibis of the boys. Although I seriously doubt anyone is going to like or read this 😂 🤣 😂🤣. Also a huge thank you to everyone that encouraged me to continue working on this it means so much to me! And a special thank you to Rinna ( @minoux-deactivated20200516 ) the creator of Terrorwood who inspired me to take the first step in making this dorm. If anyone wants to make an oc for this dorm feel free to do so (let's be honest no one would want that) just please tag me.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #oc dorm #lolicassé #jess box #Valentino Kartinez #London Lore #Ezequiel Autumn #Edgar Ross #Ray Sanada #Xerxes Starness

100 notes · View notes

lovelystarlings · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Five - Neville’s Very Clumsy

——————————————————————————

The next morning was, eventful, to say the least. Camille had always been an early riser, her parents had insisted on her and sisters waking up at 5 am on the dot every morning, they had said it was to prepare them for when they themselves had families to wake up for but Camille knew it was just to torture them more then her parents already did. So when she woke up the next morning, wrapped in the velvety covers that they were provided, she felt a sense of tranquillity wash over her. There was no nagging mum leaning over her, no crying Gabrielle in the bed next to her and no annoying perfect Fleur singing in the shower for everyone to hear. It was quiet.

Just how she liked it.

Spinning her legs over the edge carefully, trying not to wake up the sleeping Hermione next to her, Camille walked over to the bathroom door that was left open on the opposite side of the strangely large dormitory.

Picking up her uniform on the way, Camille entered the bathroom quietly, looking around in awe at the extravagant manner of the simple room. On the wall facing the door stood four separate sinks, each having a mirror on the wall above and a small chest of drawers underneath them. Seeing as no one had claimed one yet, Camille chose the one closest to the shower, for once getting first choice of something. Placing her wash bag next to the sink, she carefully hung her uniform over the railing by the shower, not wanting to crease it straight away.

Grabbing her hairbrush out of her bag, she began to run it through her hair gently. Having slept with it in plaits had done her a huge favour, the usual straight and thick mess had been tamed into ringlets that now sat elegantly on her shoulders. Pinning her hair back with a clip, leaving the bottom layer down, Camille felt at peace with how she looked today. Sure, she wasn't as beautiful, after all she was only young, but she wasn't necessarily ugly (dear god did she hate that word), and that was enough.

Hearing movement from the room next her, and the familiarity of the other girls voices, she quickly pulled her shirt over her head and her skirt quickly over her hips, Camille turned to the door smiling at Hermione, who seemed shocked that someone was up before her.

"How are you up so early?" She spoke, her hand running through the bundle of curls that sat on top of her head. She walked over to the sink beside the French girl, placing her own stuff down gently.

"You know what they say," spoke Camille, brushing past Hermione with a smirk. "The early bird gets the worm."

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. It also didn't help that Camille knew where none of her classes were. And neither did Hermione, Or Ron. Or Harry.

Though after fumbling about the school for a long time they had managed to find most of their classes. And Camille had discovered a lot about her teachers.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Camille had noticed that Neville particularly enjoyed this one.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up, which didn't help Camille in the slightest considering she had no idea who either of them were.

Professor McGonagall had to be Camille's favourite, however. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione and Camille had made any difference to their match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione and Camille a rare smile, both girls giving each other a proud look as they linked arms and skipped off to the next lesson , leaving the boys and their matches far behind.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. Camille vaguely remembered her father telling Fleur (and Fleur told her) about an encounter he had with a vampire once, a very lovely vampire he had told her. His name was Carlisle, and he was a doctor. Camille had been shocked that a vampire could be a doctor, but her father had never lied to Fleur once.

Professor Quirrell's turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story.

For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Camille had befriended the Weasley Twins then and there, she thought they were charming and funny, and rather attractive if she was honest. They could well be veela, she thought, despite knowing that they were pure blood. She wondered what their mother and father looked like.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Camille and Hermione had been lucky enough to grab seats at the front, neither girls wanting to miss a thing. However, if Camille had known who their Professor was, she would've sat at the back, or even better out of the classroom.

His name was Professor Snape, and he was a tall man, who always seemed to be dressed in a black coat that billowed behind him like the wind itself followed him. His hair was pitch black and greasy, like it hadn't been watched in months, years even.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word, Hermione scribbling down most of it, the sound of her quill annoying Camille slightly, though she didn't say anything. She'd hate to insult the girl. Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sit," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Camille heard a loud noise behind her, and turned round to see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, shaking with laughter, and she had to hide a snicker herself. The three looked like utter pillocks.

"I don't know, sir."

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling, despite Camille's attempts to calm her down, not wanting her friend to embarrass herself more than she had. She had the feeling someone was gonna snap, whether it be Harry or Snape.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Camille laughed harmoniously at the sass Harry held in his voice, drawing the attention of the class to her. She had forgotten that most of them had probably never heard veela laugh before, and hers probably had a strange effect on the bunch, considering the majority of them were pre-pubescent teenage boys.

"Sorry," she squeaked, and slumped down in her chair. Hermione patting her head patronisingly. Though she too felt strange at the heavenly sound that had escaped the French girl's mouth.

"Sit down and be quiet," he snapped at Camille. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, though Camille had already been making her notes during the commotion. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter." Idiote, thought Camille. The poor boy had been living with muggles his whole life, how could Snape thing he'd know the simplest thing about potions. Idiote, she repeated.

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy and Camille who had been paired with the blonde boy, the only two whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.

Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Camille flinched, seeing the hurt look on the poor boy's face, unlike Malfoy, or rather Draco as he had asked her to call him, who had laughed.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

Camille and Hermione left the dungeon as soon as they could, both wanting to avoid the catastrophe of cleaning up the spilled potion.

#harry #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hermione #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #fluff #hogwarts #veela #fleur delacour

8 notes · View notes

leesuhyo · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s talk about trauma.

(TW for trauma, obviously)

My parents always tell me how I was a quirky and cheerful child when I was little. Now the quirkiness is only there when I fake it.

I started school at the age of three. Kindergarten was fun, people there was okay. Sometimes they were mean, but it’s fine. I was happy. My teachers were nice.

Timeskip to primary school at six. Initially, I thought people would be the same, since it was the same school and all of my kindergarten friends were there. I thought the teachers would be nice.

They were not.

You learn quickly to not step out of line, because there would be consequences. If you even whisper in the corridors after assembly, detention for you. If you were even late to school for a minute, you stand next to the stairwell where the whole school gets to look at who is late, even though most people don’t. If you made a mistake, the teacher stands you outside the staffroom, and yells so loudly people in the upper and lower floors could hear.

Public humiliation was the most common form of punishment. It wasn’t encouraged, but girls can be mean at that age. Gradually peer pressure usually sets the norm.

If you don’t have a ‘friend group’ you’re weird.

Soon you learn to avert people’s eyes, even if they don’t have ill intentions.

You learn to jump whenever a teacher walks too close to you while lining up, because they scrutinise you, and drag whoever’s talking out and give them a severe scolding.

You learn to run to school, desperately trying not to be late because even if you were late due to traffic, you were still punished

You learn to fit into the norms, painfully, because your peers laugh at you if you don’t.

You learn to mistake even light-hearted teasing as scolding, because it usually starts that way. They ask you a rhetoric question, and it spirals into yelling.

You learn.

And that’s how the trauma sets in.

Secondary school at twelve. Pretty much nothing changed, except there is more homework, and more classes. More teachers to take note of, who to avoid and who to curry favour with. You learn to manipulate teachers to your favour, until you’re their favourite student. Even though you hate their subject.

You then learn more about the world. But not the right way, because this is a Catholic school. You learn that homosexuality is a sin. That mental illnesses exist, but they’re bad. That the internet is dangerous. That swearing is bad. And so on.

You also learn that boys are weird, because this was a girl’s school and there were no men, except for male teachers. Your classmates say all sorts of strange things about boys. They’re weird, but they’re cute. Going to after-school tutorial classes with students from that boys’ school down that road makes you feel weird, and you feel instinctively defensive despite them not looking at you.

Sixteen. First year of public exams. You sleep at 2am, drag yourself out of bed at 7am to arrive at school at 8am. You’re tired all the time, but your peers are tired all the time too. I slept at 1am. Oh yeah? Well I slept at 2am. The continued toxic cycle of bad habits.

The only source of happiness around you comes from your favourite singer, because back then you’re struggling to find friends after your best friend transferred schools due to her depression. You try to write down a list of reasons of why you liked him to remember how to feel. Ew, what are you doing? 100 reasons why I like ____? That’s so creepy. You stay silent, turn a new page, and continue writing stories to drown out the maths lecture going on.

You start healing a little when you were sixteen. You start to get angry at social issues, and managed to find your own group of misfits who doesn’t want to follow the norm. You start to feel at home at your drama group, where you applied for, out of a leap of faith.

Do you want to study overseas?

Seventeen. Your mother suggested for you to study overseas, and you don’t want to, because you only just found your friends. But you don’t have a choice, because your old school doesn’t have the only subject you’re good at. You found out later through a scolding in the corridor by the headmistress that in fact, they did have that subject after you applied for it, and you’re a traitor for ‘betraying the school’s trust’.

Seventeen. You start studying at a new school in another country twelve hours’ flight from home, a new environment. And you’re panicking because you had arrived two weeks late and everyone has friends. You throw yourself into your schoolwork to distract yourself from the creeping depression, and stay close to the teachers. You avoid your classmates, girls who seemed so much confident of themselves and boys. Suddenly your determined plan to make a new role for yourself seem insignificant.

And then one of the girls started approaching you. You feel wary because your past experience taught you girls cannot be trusted. But she was friendly, and you decided to get a little closer. Nonetheless, your only trusted figure is your house parent, who is so kind as to stay behind every night to listen to your crying and ranting.

Halfway through the year. Your older cousin, an established and popular prefect at the school, became one of your topic starters and you decided to let your guard down a little. You’re still wary of the group of girls who were first introduced to you though, because they wear makeup, they were interested in fashion, they were girly and popular, people your past experience had taught not to associate with.

(You also learn that the teachers are nice. They aren’t strict authority figures, and were bewildered why you didn’t go to them for help when you needed it, because you learnt to keep quiet and just power your way through things. You slowly learn to stop flinching at a raised voice, and even found your teachers for insignificant things. Staying behind to talk about his favourite book, for example.)

Christmas came, and you became reluctant to leave the school to your parents. After Christmas break though, you were reluctant to go back to the school because you had no friends. Nonetheless you went back, and made new friends in the year above you. You slowly grow back into the community and even laughed with your new friends.

And then your house parent told you she’s changing jobs. You cried a lot, but she promised to write. She tells you to seek out one of the school nurses. You did. To this day she’s still your confidant.

Then coronavirus struck. Your closest friend decided not to go back, because her parents were afraid of her staying in a high-risk country. You throw yourself into prepping for your university applications, because that’s the only goal in front of you now.

It was announced prefects were being chosen. In your old school leadership positions were widely sought after and considered a badge of honour, so you try to take on as many as possible. The teachers told you it was a bad idea, but you did it anyways. It was only later you realised, the responsibility attached was more than the honour it gives.

(You weren’t chosen for prefect, but it was okay. The teacher was biased anyways)

September 2020. Coronavirus is still an issue, but you decided to go back to school. You were still afraid, but you had friends ( - acquaintances, really) and a few valuable leadership positions that gives you a purpose. You steel yourself anyways, because the dormitory you were about to move into don’t have any of your old friends.

October 2020. You have new friends. You managed to piece your life together, and for the first time, you actually have a decent social life. But beneath the facade, you’re still afraid. You’re still nervous. You’re still afraid of getting close to people, because what if they abandon you?

But it didn’t matter. You’re healing.

#trauma #childhood trauma #depression #anxiety #mental illness #Mental health #mental health awareness #social anxiety #mental disorders #this went on so long and i'm sorry

20 notes · View notes

thekidultlife · 4 years ago

Text

IT'S OUR 2ND ANNIVERSARY! 🎉🥳🥂

@Authors' Note: This is Leanne and Hyeri's story. Please bear with us as we try to reminisce over the past years and celebrate where we are now as writers, as friends, and most especially, as individuals who have grown a lot and changed a lot through the years.

Warnings: Contains a semi-reveal of what we actually look like in real life lol so if you’re interested, keep reading down lol.

We started this blog in 2017. We deactivated in 2018, just weeks before what was supposed to be our first anniversary. We stayed silent throughout the rest of 2018 and 2019, but we picked up where we left off this 2020. Despite the messy history of this blog, though, and the changes in our lives, we are extremely happy that we did come back. And the reason why we came back? Well, it’s pretty simple.

The same love for SEVENTEEN, which made us start this blog, brought us back again.

We’re not lying when we tell you that this blog was what made us closer and what our friendship grow deeper.

Back then, we were just classmates who found common interests in each other (history, writing novels, analyzing politics, and being one of the ‘Big 3′ in our class lol) but didn’t know how to bond over these interests. But when we both started sharing a room in a dormitory close to our university in 2017, things changed. And things changed because we both found SEVENTEEN.

LEANNE: I wasn’t really a K-pop fan during that time. But I remember sitting beside Hyeri at our study area, watching her as she watched DWC and thinking to myself, “Maybe this could be it. Maybe this could be the ‘thing’ that we could bond over and could make our friendship grow. And so I leaned over and asked, “Oooh, which group is that?” What followed then was a night where I became a convert, and SVT became a part of me forever.

After that night, we found ourselves always talking about them because they became the thread that made us close. And while bonding over SVT, we started to become more open about our lives and about ourselves in terms of personalities. We didn’t know why but we just clicked. Before we started becoming really close, we had different sets of friends. But then, we just knew that our friendship was different because we truly understand each other.

HYERI: I wasn't a Kpop stan before either. Like if my high school me knew I'd become like this, she'll cringe in embarrassment. But it happened. A friend recommended me to watch React to the K because I'm a huge classical music nut, and I discovered Seventeen there. I seriously can't remember that exact moment when Leanne asked, but I do remember that one time when I showed her the dance practice for Aju Nice. It was one of the first things I showed to her, and then without knowing, we've already watched a lot of Seventeen videos.

Whenever I look back at that time, I just remember how happy we were even though it wasn't really a good moment in our lives. There were a lot of stress and problems, and everything just seemed to spiral down from there. But I just feel a warm feeling in my chest whenever July and August comes, I smell the rain, and remember how many nights we spent binging on Seventeen, talking inside the nearby 7/11 until 1am, knowing that classes were cancelled the next day because of the weather. It was truly a magical moment for me because I never had a friend like Leanne, like sometimes we just have the same thought patterns, and we bonded over Seventeen so much. We would just talk endlessly about them, brainstorming ideas for fics and so on to the point that we only stopped because the 5AM alarm went off lmao Those times were just absolutely incredible.

LEANNE: We also have kind of the same goal back then: to have a platform where we could practice writing. Hyeri suggested that we try creating a blog for fanfiction. I agreed because I truly wanted to try and I was so obsessed with Choi Seungcheol back then. So we planned our first fics, who posts first, and we created it. Just like that. On August 12, 2017, we made our first post.

Our first name was “diabolically-diamondiferous”. We wanted something different (and we now admit that we did go overboard with the bing different thing lol) and so we agreed that this would be our URL. We chose it because of the concept that there is a duality in this blog that readers should look forward to, a dynamic that they would only see here, I guess? That was the goal. That was how it all started.

HYERI: I was a Wonwoo stan back then. I had already written Love is A Fallacy and a bit of 30 Nights before we even created the blog, and I wanted an avenue where I can post it. I admit I myself can't think of a better url than "diabolically-diamondiferous", so I just went with it.

Honestly, the blog has helped me a lot with writing. I used to write anime fanfictions and original stories, and I've already established my style back then. This blog has really helped me a lot with refining my writing style and experimenting with new ideas and ways to tell a story, as well as being able to write quickly. I do think I've improved with my dialogues and the way I pace my stories, and make them feel organic. And with that, I've never realized I've already written a lot, until I arranged the masterlist recently.

What began with a few stories turned into hundreds as we started pouring our hearts into this blog. And we would be lying if we told you that it was pressure-free.

LEANNE: During this time, my responsibilities at uni, family and other personal matters made me unable to focus on the blog a lot. I really feel sorry for Hyeri during this time because she was the one who was more consistent with posting her stories. I joke every now and then these days whenever she couldn’t write that it’s okay, you once had too much weight and now I’ll carry my share and more, too, if it gets hard for you. Even though I was busy with other things, however, Hyeri really pulled through and made this blog come alive. And as a friend, she really helped me get through my darkest moments. This blog, too, became my crutch. Whenever my heart got broken, I would write here. I would try to find my voice (and at that time, I couldn’t find myself, either. Just ask Hyeri why, lol.) in writing. I was experimenting what voice I had while writing and what genre fits me.

HYERI: Following Leanne's, I guess after our trip to Korea, things became way harder. I had a lot of low points back then as well: losing my scholarship and just so much responsibility in life and at school. I did carry much of the weight of the blog after that semester, and I'm surprised how I managed to do that. I kept on badgering Leanne to finish some requests, but she really had a lot going on as well. Not to mention our plans to join an exchange program to Korea which was another hell we signed up for. It was extra difficult because our department doesn't want us to leave, thinking we're just running away from the strict (and often unfair) professors (ironic when our major is International Relations).Seventeen and this blog was the only way we could bond together and have fun and just forget about everything. I could remember sending each other fake messages from Seventeen just to cheer the other up when things get depressing, or imagining what it would feel like to be an idol and whatnot. It sounds silly now, but that was the only way we could cope with how intense and exhausting our lives were. It was the only thing that kept the constant dread in our nerves from taking over.

What began as an experimental way to boost creativity became something like a career, and steering our motivation, was of course, the boys. Our boys. The amazing people that we write about and that we imagine about. They made us happy during the times when there was nothing to be happy about. They made us take risks that brought out the braveness we didn’t know we had in us, and they made us feel hopeful about the future.

However, we hit a hurdle we couldn’t bring ourselves back from hurdle after hurdle during our second semester as juniors in college.

LEANNE: Second semester of junior year in college was really hard for me. The bottom line of it all was the manipulative relationship that I was in with my s/o back then, but a lot of things piled up as well: school responsibilities (I was handling three classes at one point as a professor’s assistant and then ran for a student government position I didn’t really want but felt obliged to). All the while this was happening, I was really feeling myself slip away. I was suffering from depression but I had a lot of things going on around me that I could not just drop because people were depending on me. The only way I thought I would be able to not give up is by going somewhere else to finish my studies. Yes, the environment got that toxic. I really needed to get away. Around this time, I wasn’t active on the blog anymore. Right after elections, I lost my motivation to do anything. I would sometimes pitch in to help Hyeri with some requests, but it took way more effort than I thought it would.

Hyeri and I decided that we needed to take the risk of applying for the South Korean exchange program, which was one of the best that our uni had to offer. We figured that since our grades were okay, it would be easy. Boy were we wrong.

HYERI: The Coldest Human, The Warmest Robot was the last fic I've posted in the blog before the hiatus. I couldn't do it anymore. There were so many problems and issues with the exchange program that I could no longer handle the blog alone. Leanne had withdrawn too, considering how she has her own things to face as well. It was a really difficult time. After being rejected a visa, I just can't think of writing, or even Seventeen anymore. Just their presence seemed to only remind me that I had been rejected after months and months of preparation. Their songs only reminded me of our disappointments. It was awful and I knew I can't face them at that time. I found myself in Taiwan. Alone. Leanne had stayed and it was depressing. I had to move on despite that, but it felt like an empty success.

We planned to become a part of an exchange program in South Korea, but it didn’t pull through at the last minute. We had staked all our bets, and we lost motivation in a lot of things. One of those things was this blog. We just knew that we had to let it go during 2018, because it was impossible to maintain it when you don’t feel inspired about life anymore.

LEANNE: I was miserable during first semester as a senior because everything did not go as planned. I was really losing the resolve to keep going on because nothing had gone the way I had planned it to be. I think the only silver lining during 2018 was that my parents and friends finally stepped in to protect me from the person who had been harming me emotionally and therefore affecting my self-esteem and resolve. We also went to Macau, where I really healed a lot as well while teaching music with close friends from church. But beyond that, I could see no other way to get through the last semester except to follow Hyeri and go to Taiwan. It wasn’t just her friendship that I was missing; it was also about that goal I had in my mind: to find peace and quiet away from everything that had hurt me and drained me.

We didn’t have any high hopes about what lay ahead, but the biggest plot twist came.

LEANNE: By some miracle, I managed to convince my parents that I was well enough to go to Taiwan and that I would be safer there. It all happened so fast. February I was still crying, standing at the train tracks, telling our other friend that I wanted to just end it. But then March came and my visa got approved on a Friday. Three days later, just packing whatever I had with me in my apartment, I left for Taiwan.

It was a miracle Hyeri and I still talk about a lot. We started to heal from everything that we had gone through. We started to re-explore our friendship and in the end, after so much drama and after so much challenges, we finally concluded that this friendship of ours was really something that we wanted to keep forever. We grew a lot through the years.

HYERI: Who would've thought that with a lot of begging and pleading and praying, Leanne was finally able to go to Taiwan. I was so happy. It was one of the happiest memories of my life so far. Being in Taiwan, away from the world, from the responsibilities back at home, it was such a liberating time.It was also the exact period which we started to heal from past disappointments. Seventeen no longer gave me the pain I used to feel, and to this day, You Made My Day---the album which was released before everything happened, and reminded me a lot of what had transpired---is one of my favourite Seventeen albums.

But here we are now, in 2020. It was really because of Hit the Road that we decided to come back. We agreed to start writing again come June 2020. We started doing what we loved again.

HYERI: We had fully healed from everything and we're fully ready to come back to writing about our precious boys! I am so happy to be able to finally celebrate the actual anniversary for this blog!

LEANNE: And now, here we are, celebrating our anniversary! The first one we really had! This is all impromptu editing but we really wanted to make it special.

Highlights Throughout the Years:

💎 Love is A Fallacy (Lawyer!Wonwoo)

The first ever fic I've written for SVT. I remember I wrote this while I was at the dorm on my bed, it was a miraculously stress-free night. The song I kept on playing was "20" and I could imagine it being the OST if this was a kdrama 😂 This was at a time when Wonwoo was still my bias.

💎Adagio Cantabile (College Student!Jihoon)

A fic I first wrote after Jihoon became my bias. I could still remember, I was so inspired by a fic titled Customer Satisfaction, that I wrote this one. Plus I'm really into Classical Music, that I could just write one whole fic about it. I'm still amazed how we were able to write fanfiction even though we were swamped with school work, and I mean, SWAMPED, like a lot of exams, graded recitation, things to memorize, super long essays, but we still managed to write. 😂

💎Saffron (Victorian AU DK)

This was written shortly after Leanne and I went back from Korea. I was so blissfully happy back then. I think I've spent a night or two writing this. This was heavily inspired by the game "Chocolatier" which I was playing days before I've started writing 😂 I really love writing for DK, he's such a positively innocent character who was so endearing.

💎The Coldest Human; Warmest Robot (Android!Jihoon)

This was probably the last one shot I've posted before the hiatus in 2018. I remember finishing it in my hometown when we went there for summer vacation. It was a really bad time ngl I lost my scholarship and was supposed to go to an exchange program to South Korea with Leanne. Back I didn't know if I could support that dream financially.

💎The Most Convenient Escape (Soulmate!Jihoon)

This was the first fic I've written after the hiatus. Truthfully, over 2018-2019, I lost my love for SVT. It was painful to be reminded of the fact that we weren't able to go to Korea, so I avoided them while I was in Taiwan. But I came back around this year and started to write this one. It's heavily inspired by the book "Voices of the Past" which is a compilation of American newspaper articles over the years, and anime reviews which talked about Deconstructing a genre (i.e., Madoka Magica and Evangelion). Right now I really do want to finish this series.

Highlights Throughout the Years

💎The Return of Superman Series

My first work, TROS Seungcheol, was the first fic in the entire blog that I was truly proud of. All my other works were too rushed, too experimental for my own taste even, and just doesn’t look like what I, Leanne, if you personally know me, would write about. I strongly believe that there is a unique voice in each story, a voice that belongs only to its writer, and back then, I was still trying to find that voice. The Return of Superman was my breakthrough in writing. I suddenly found an AU that I truly loved to write about, and, most importantly, my voice in writing.

💎After-Party, Only Us, and Afterglow | Yoon Jeonghan

This is the spin-off series that came from Yoon Jeonghan’s The Return of Superman. I started to become more comfortable in my style of writing as I wrote these. You will notice a change of style after the first part, “After-Party”. My writing style has matured, and I really congratulate myself a lot for that. It took me years and tons of experiences to get that flavor I had always wanted in my works! Haha.

💎The And Series

This is another one of those imagines that really brought out the hopeless romantic inside me, and for that, I am proud of it. It’s still mostly in the works, but I am really happy about how it’s turning out.

💎Through the Seasons Series

Ah, this is my pet project. All my heart is poured into this one. This is the first series that I truly explored the beauty of love in realistic settings. My writing process here is done by looking at real couples LOL and also tapping into beautiful memories of mine about love and about life and all the drama that comes along. I’m really glad that a lot of our new readers liked the first one that came out!

Our story-time ends here.

All in all, we just want to say thank you. Thank you for everything. For being with us through this crazy ride of a blog, truly, sincerely, thank you. From our followers since the beginning, to the new ones that we are finding joy in communicating with now, thank you. From the bottom of our hearts!

LET’S MAKE MORE MEMORIES TOGETHER!

- Leanne and Hyeri.

#HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US!#Leanne and Hyeri #thekidultlife

24 notes · View notes

snapshotsinsidethehotel · 4 years ago

Text

This is an old story of mine from around March of 2020 (though the original story was created earlier, maybe around late 2019, I just rewrote it a little)

It's pretty long so you decide whether you want to read or not <33 It's just a fun little wip of mine, so please don't go too hard on me! [;w;]/

I'm a bit too lazy atm to actually fix up the mistakes but we never know~ Do tell me if you want more! I currently have three chapters up of this, and it's still uncompleted fjdjf

Please tell me if I need to add a tw warning! <33

Urges Of Nostalgia (unofficial name)

Chapter 1:

I wasn't going to keep my mouth shut today. This school keeps hiding the truth and fills it with lies about the outside world. It was probably their lucky day when they found a huge patch of land far away from the student's families. I could feel an itch forming in my throat, begging to be let out. I opened my mouth to shout but-

"Donovan! Donny!"

My newest unexpected best friend and roommate, Jerry, ran in front of me. He was a curly haired, tall, and loud-mouthed boy that I can't seem to get away from. He ran to me with hints of tiredness and that silly grin taped onto his face. He took a bit to catch his breath before looking back at me,

"Hey, did you also get the note from Michael? I haven't asked anyone but you, since well y'know..snitches get stitches"

Ah.. Yes. Michael, the strict student president! That chubby blonde guy from A-6, a well known all smarts section. Although he was as much of a fuss as the others were, it was a complete miracle that he was chosen to be the president..

"I don't think I did. Why? What did the note even say? Is he complaining about your rowdiness during class again?"

Jerry smirked and shrugged, grabbing the crumpled note from his uniform's pocket. Although it was severely crumpled up, it was still somehow legible.

"Jeez! What'd you do to it?! Just because the note is from Michael doesn't mean you have to destroy it!"

I jokingly punched his shoulder, a small grin forming. Jerry glared back with an annoyed smile.

"Oh shut it! That's not important right now. Read it!"

I laughed as he slammed the paper onto my face. I turned my attention to the note, seeing what it said through the crumples.

'To : Jerry Stewart. I am requesting a meeting with a few others. This includes a few faces from class B-8, class C-1, and class R-5. This is highly confidential so please do NOT share it with anyone. The meeting will take place in room 76 in building 9 after school. Thank you.

PS: please burn this after if possible, or bring it to me during the meeting so I will be responsible for the burning. From : Michael Gelbart, student president'

I stared at the note for a bit before looking back at Jerry's excited face. My face contorting into a confused expression and I saw nothing to get from this.

"Uh.. So, I saw my section. Is that why you showed me this? I don't think I know anyone that Michael might know?"

We were now closer to the wall, as more students were starting to arrive at the school.

"Well duh! Look at it this way, Donny. Although Michael is a bit of a sore loser who can't take a joke, I know for sure that he's smart with his tactics. There HAS to be a reason as to why he chose ME! And you're the only guy in your section that I'm close with! Unless he has someone he knows then-"

He was interrupted by a hand covering his mouth out of nowhere. I turned my head to the intruder and...well.. It's none other than Michael himself.

"I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your little conversation. But I am in fact, not a sore loser that can't take a joke, that you claim I am. But I can confirm one thing though"

He turned his gaze to me, softening a bit compared to the hard glare at Jerry. He pulled out a neater wrapped envelope and held it out to me with a smile.

"You too.. Are expected at the meeting, Mr. Santayana. Though I don't think you'll be needing this in hindsight"

He took it back before I went to grab it, placing it in his bag. He nodded at the both of us and walked into his homeroom. Jerry and I were staring at the door for a minute or so, before Jerry sprung into life again.

"That reminds me, I have to get to class early as well. See you after class man!"

He patted my shoulder before he ran down the hallway leading to the stairs. I shook my head in disbelief. I was getting involved in whatever shenanigans they were up to. Even if I were to disagree, the student president of the whole school was in on it. So he could do anything with his power! My mind was rushing with thoughts as I continued making my way to my classes. Time passed quickly from there, either from the boredom or my continuous racing ideas of what the meeting was going to be about.

Eventually, school was over and it was time to face reality. I picked up my bag and scurried out of the room while my mind was still contemplating my decision. It would be easier to not join, right? What if the problem was because of class? Then it would be a waste of time!I continued to walk to the middle of the campus to observe the map, the confusing arrangement of buildings really take a toll on your mind. I brushed my hand through my hair as I stared confusingly at the board. Seriously. Why is this campus so confusing?!

"After two years here, I should have memorized the place by now.."

I turned around to see a first year with a stitch on his right eye. He was holding an envelope and was observing it, looking up and down for confirmation.

"So..Michael sent for you too.."

I asked him without leaving my gaze from the map. But even so, I could hear him gasping a bit. The sound of the envelope being squeezed inside a bag, and.. silence. It stayed like this for a while, before I checked my watch to make sure we weren't late or anything. It was currently 5:50PM, an hour after school ended.

"We better go, I heard that Michael has the shortest temper in the world.."

His loud voice lowered to somewhat of a loud whisper as his shoes tapped in the ever-growing silence surrounding us. This was getting really awkward, and it wasn't that simple to just sit around and wait. I was about to walk away, before the guy grabbed my arm and ran forth to one of the large dormitories. He had a small smirk on his face and continued to lead the way until we reached the front entrance, where I managed to break free from his tight grasp.

"Man! What were you even thinking! That hurt!"

I furrowed my brows as I rubbed my arm while glaring at the younger boy. But he wasn't paying attention to my dismay, rather, he was looking up at the top of the building. I followed his gaze and attempted to ignore the blur that was starting to form from staring up at the far away boy for so long. There was a boy, who's uniform says that he was also a first year student, though his height and childlike features made it so he looked to be around five years old. He was sitting on the edge of the roof, playing with a Nintendo. He seemed to be very focused in the game and his anger noises could be heard from down below. I widened my eyes in shock and looked back at the other first year in front of me before looking back at the kid on the roof.

"Hey! Get down from there kid! Life here is much nicer than you think!"

I heard a shout from behind before I was able to say the same thing. I turned around quickly and held my breath, expecting a teacher or staff to catch us when we aren't at our designated dorms. I let out a long sigh when I saw a familiar face. It was Jerry! He seemed as shocked and worried as I was, which relaxed me knowing that I wasn't crazy to be worried of this kid. It was certainly odd that kid in front of me seemed to be laughing instead of joining our chants of fear. He seemed to be joined by another boy who was in the same year, he looked like he was heading inside before noticing the tiny crowd.

"Oi Alec! Stop scaring your elders, it's rude! Fate isn't going to go your way if you keep staying there!"

The new boy yelled with a similar joyful tone that kept bothering me. The tiny boy looked down and showed a peace sign. If I squinted hard enough, I could almost see a big bright grin. This calmed me a bit, knowing that the boy was going to be safe even though the new guy was straight up insulting us right then and there. The other new guy turned to Jerry who was staring blankly at the now-empty rooftop.

"Hey Jerry, you good?"

I lightly shook him before he looked back at me with a confused face. Jerry was in the middle of forming words before a familiar looking envelope landed in between us, the same envelope that we have received. Sounds of snickers coming from the first years made me turn to the first years who were looking up at the upper floors again. I was expecting another friend of theirs to be standing there instead as some sort of inside joke. But when I followed their gazes again, I saw Michael waving a paper from the fourth floor. He held a piercing glare and that all-too-familiar frown that you get greeted with when you first enter the school.

The other first year got a bit nervous and walked right into his room without hesitating and looking back. The three of us understood what he was hinting at and attempted to run up the stairs without disturbing the other students who were most likely sleeping. When we arrived there, Michael was waiting for us by his fancy looking doorway that had his name hanging on it. It was pretty funny to see since it stood out so much. He opened the door and hurriedly invited us in to assure no witnesses would see us outside of the curfew.

As soon as we had arrived, I noticed that his room was reasonably better than ours. He had a much-larger room with at least three rooms since he had this entire floor to himself. I walked around in circles before plopping down onto the soft couch. It was remarkable! I took a moment to admire it's fluffiness that us 'normal' students aren't given the pleasure of having. Our couches felt like concrete being planted on a wooden frame which weren't even CLOSE to the beauty of his couch. Either he bought it from somewhere else, or the office just loves him that much!

I dazed out while listening to the sweet instrumental being played on a small radio near the television. I noticed his older taste in music and smiled. Perhaps he was also an only child who had older parents too? I took my gaze off of the roof and turned my head to look at Michael who looked upset.

"Hey Mic, something going on? Don't tell me we're missing a guy.."

The stitched-eye boy confidently said with a grin. This bugged me, due to how casual he seemed around the powerful student president himself. Michael slightly opened the curtain near the door and waited for a bit.. Before closed it with an annoyed expression.

"That's exactly it, Kurt. Alexander isn't here yet and knowing him, he must've gone somewhere dangerous out of pure fun!"

I rose from my position and leaned back on the couch. I glanced at the other quiet guy in the room, who was Jerry, to discuss this with him but he was busy watching from the also-luxurious television.. So that wouldn't be possible. I blanked out and observed the two who were more closer than I thought they were. Which was surprising since the two were in very different sections and grades. I stared at the stitched-eye boy and started to make small connections. He was definitely Kurt, but who was Alexander? Considering the fact that Michael managed to be close to a first year, it would be hard to pinpoint every Alexander in the school.

My thoughts were answered when a young boy kicked the door open, nearly breaking it. Isn't that the same guy from the rooftop?! Questions quickly stacked up higher than the answers but I tried to keep my composure.

"Alec! Where were you?! This meeting is serious, you can't just wander around the campus like nothing is expecting you!"

Michael shouted at him with such a demanding tone, I was expecting the tiny boy to start crying. I know I would if I was in his spot.. Well, I understand why he became the student president over the other candidates. Instead of crying, the boy merely smirked and continued walking to the empty seat besides me. He wasn't even tearing up! Michael sighed from the lack of the attention, and closed the door. He turned off the lights without warning and quickly walked to the kitchen, turning on the dim lamp seated on the middle of the table.

"Everyone. Please make your way to the table. Feel free to sit anywhere you feel comfortable"

Ugh..I'd rather stay here. I forced myself to stand up and felt my way through the literal darkness. Now that we're in total darkness, it felt more wider and more confusing than when it was on. We all arrived at the circle table and Michael wasted no time.

"I've bought you all to discuss a very important matter. This won't be the usual schoolwork discussion you all might've been expecting, but something much more important than that. For years now, I've been eavesdropping the staff, and I've collected some....interesting information"

He reached under the desk and pulled out stacks of paper. He pulled out the top paper, and placed it in the middle of the table. I leaned in closer to read it closer, but Michael pulled it away before any one of us were able to read it.

"To quicken up this meeting, we're all just a bunch of lab rats to the staff in this school. A close friend of mine discovered documents labeling our deaths, which were stated to be about ten months ago. Each and every one of our parents believe that we're dead.. Most of them have probably accepted it and moved on!"

He was visibly angered and slammed his palms onto the table. Jerry flinched, Kurt nervously looked down, Alec smiled, and I started to get a bit worried. I wasn't paying attention to the other things he said, but his outburst and the absurdity of the information stuck itself to my brain. I started to think of rational reasons for this.. Perhaps this was a way to finally let my thoughts out. I raised my hand and kept until Michael acknowledged me...

#Wip #Scrapped #Maybe #Writing #Story #Oc #tw heights #tw fire #tw mention of death #tw death #[Hall Of Memories] Series Edition!#I expected to cringe at this but somehow..#I quite like it still haha #But that's just my opinion #:33

2 notes · View notes

leopardprintismybrown · 5 years ago

Text

1. We formed a band with friends in our school days and we often used to perform for some coins.

The first Queen interview in our country. (From Music Life September Issue 1974)

The first chance encounter between the long-standing music magazine “MUSIC LIFE” and Queen happened at the beginning of summer ‘74 at the time of the release of the famous second album “QUEEN II”. Unfortunately, Brian was absent due to an illness, but we’re reintroducing the unforgettable moment when Roger’s natural voice was delivered to Japanese fans for the first time.

**********************************************************

Can you tell us about your personal music career?

John Deacon: I started to perform with various amateur bands since I was 12-13 and attending Leicester School. When I was 18 I went to London to start university, but, even though I met a lot of friends, the first time I played with a professional band it was with Queen. I’ve been playing with Freddie, Brian and Roger for 3 years and a half, but they were already together for 6 months before they made me join. The first instrument I learnt was a six chord guitar but I switched to the bass guitar when I was 14. I learnt all by myself.

Freddie Mercury: I was born in East Africa and I spent my years as a young boy in India when I was 7-8. I was admitted into a school dormitory. Since the rules were strict, I could never go out. In those school days, I started learning the piano and I studied classic piano reaching the intermediate level. After that, I entered an art college in London and I met Brian and Roger. They were playing in a band called “Smile” and even if I was in a group called “Sour Milk Sea” the three of us hit it off immediately and we shared a rented apartment. Then, one day, Smile disbanded and the two of them asked me to form a group together. That was the beginning of Queen.

Roger Taylor: I started playing the drums seriously when I was 12, but since I was a huge fan of rock’n’roll I learnt immediately. Back then, I preferred to listen to Bill Haley, The Shadows, The Who, The Yardbirds, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix. I formed a band with my friends at school. We used to perform frequently as a semi pro band for a little money. Then, I started to attend university in London and I got acquainted with Brian and we formed Smile. At university, I was studying for a major in dental school, but I abandoned after a year. Then, I started a major in biology and I got a degree. At the end of those studies, Queen were formed.

At the time Queen were formed there were a lot of difficulties, right?

FM: To some extent, yes. But we were confident in the music we wanted to make and also we were certain which kind of direction we should take. First of all, we made a demo tape and we took it to many record companies. We didn’t think such things as “any record company is fine”. We kept on searching for the best record companies and the most appropriate for us. For this reason, we never compromised.

After recording the demo tape, how long did it take until the release of the first album “QUEEN”?

RT: A lot. Must have taken approximately 2 years. The recording was completed easily, but back then the record company thought it wasn’t still the moment to release it. The company waited until the suitable moment to release came, but given various problems, we didn’t sell much even when the album had been released. On the contrary, things went smooth for the second album and as soon as the recording was completed it was immediately released for sale.

Your sound is strongly English and you can feel elements from Led Zeppelin and Yes music…

FM: We have no intention to imitate those groups. I personally like Zeppelin, but not so much Yes lately. Surely, when our first album came out we were compared to other groups and probably they thought about us that way. But now that our sound has been established they are saying that other bands sound like Queen. We’re not trying to create Queen sound on purpose, it happened naturally.

Today Brian is not here, is he still hospitalized for his illness?

JD: No, he’s already been discharged. Since he’s currently resting at home and having proper meals, he should be completely recovered in 2 weeks.

The second album “QUEEN II” is divided in “White Side” and “Black Side”. Does it have a particular meaning?

FM: There isn’t that deep meaning. We came up with the idea by chance, during the recording. I wrote the song “The March of the Black Queen” for that album and Brian wrote “White Queen”, that’s where the idea came from. Also, that mood is reflected to a certain extent in both sides. The White Side radiates a bright feeling of a white mood, the Black Side turns into a rather dark image of a devilish feeling. We even wear black and white on stage and it becomes a really good contrast.

Tell us about the new album.

JD: We plan on concentrating on the third album through July, August and September. Since we’ll be away on tour from the middle of September, we intend to have it finished before then. We’ll be in charge of the production in collaboration with Roy Thomas Baker.

Tell us about your PA system and your instruments manifacturers.

JD: Roger uses Ludwig drums, Brian a handmade guitar and VOX “AC30” amp, I use a Fender Precision Bass guitar and an acoustic amp. The PA system is usually rented during tours.

I look forward to your visit to Japan next year. Thank you very much.

**********************************************************

T/N: First interview from the Music Life special issue about Roger Taylor. As always, I am not an English native speaker, so forgive any possible error. Also, remember that translating into a foreign language is difficult and I hope I have preserved the original meaning.

#translated by me #music life #queen #queen interview #queen in japan #1974 #roger taylor #John Deacon #freddie mercury #Brian May #70s

81 notes · View notes

circuscarnage · 5 years ago

Text

Part 2 of ???

I’ll keep the intro short, since the fic is so long. I wrote more! I actually can’t stop myself whenever I get a new idea. It’s just so fun to write, I adore it! Also a special thank you to @choconanime @disasteromnia and @edda-blattfe for letting me incorporate their OC’s into it. I hope you enjoy.

Words: 1580

After the events that transpired earlier, Anna was unable to do her job of painting the roses, and instead put the paint back and headed to the Heartslabyul dormitory. Luckily, they were right beside the Night Raven garden, and thankfully she did not have to travel very far. It wasn't hard to miss any of the dormitories, you could see them from miles away. Each one was specially catered to a specif theme, and that included the exterior. Heartslabyul was no different. The outside was decorated with brightly coloured rose bushes, and the castle was tinted a deep red with accents of white. Hearts were dotted all over the castle, but there was no time to sight see, she felt as if she would fall apart any second. But she persisted. Anna was able to maintain a straight face. Until she entered the Heartslabyul dorm.

As soon as the door behind her closed, Anna collapsed onto the floor in a nervous heap. She felt the weight of her actions suddenly come crashing down on her. Of course she knew exactly who Malleus Draconia was. It would be a challenge to get through a week at this school without his name being mentioned. He was everywhere. In hushed whispered and silent conversations. There was no escaping him.

It was considered bad luck if you disturbed him. And, instead of apologising instantly and begging for forgiveness, she had the bright idea to question his existence. Great going, Anna! Now one of the most powerful fae's will remember you as 'that one girl who almost spilled paint all over him and forgot who he was!'

Her hands clasped over her head, trying to contain the manic shaking that was convulsing through her body. This was surely not going to end well for her. Sure, Malleus had the courtesy to fix her uniform and reverse the damage she had caused. But he probably only did that because of how pitiful she looked. Absolutely pathetic, hunched on the ground covered in paint. And then there was the other one, the one with the green hair. He only made matters worse, spewing on and on about how weak humans were in comparison. Damn that intolerant, slightly handsome, guy.

Anna's attention was snagged away when she heard two voices coming towards her. Cater and Choco entered the common area, talking and laughing as they walked. It is very rare that these two would be seen together, but today seemed to be full of surprises. They stopped in their tracks instantly when they found the mortified Anna hunched on the floor. They exchange a look before heading over and helping the distressed student.

Choco keeled down beside her, placing a hand on her shaking shoulder. "Anna? Is everything okay?" Anna shook her head, not removing her gaze from the floor. Sweat started to form on Choco's cheek as she began to panic. She was used to dealing with the chaos that came with the trio, but this was an entirely different subject. Just as Choco was about to ask what happened, Anna answered. "I just told a member of Diasomnia to 'bite me'"

"Kinky." Cater winked. There was a pause. Both Anna and Choco turned to face him slowly, unimpressed by his efforts to cheer her up. Anna sent him a sharp glare. Her expression could only be described as pure hostility. "You are not helping, Cater."

"Jeez, sorry. Thought it would help lighten the mood. Obviously not." He put his hands up defensively and huffed. Without missing a beat, Choco quickly changed the subject. "Did you paint the roses?" Choco asked, trying to divert Anna's attention elsewhere.

"No. No, I couldn't. I had to come back here. I couldn't stand being there any longer. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Choco said, patting her shoulder gently. "Me and Trey will paint them for you, okay? Please calm down."

"Sorry, I don't mean to be so much trouble."

"No, No! Not at all!" Choco reassured her. She gently helped Anna off the floor and make her way over to the hallway. "Come on, I'll take you to my room, we can talk there. Do you want to discus what happened?" Anna nodded slowly. Cater was left alone in the common room. Until he heard the angry shouting of a certain red haired leader.

Unbeknown to them, another student at Night Raven was also having a serious problem. He paced the hallways of Diasomnia, constantly walking up and down the cobbled floors, footsteps echoing throughout the dim castle. He had been doing this for a while now. Whenever he was agitated by something, or something occupied his thoughts for longer than needed, he would try and rid them from his mind by doing mundane tasks. Pacing the hallways seemed to work well, but this particular thought wasn't leaving. It was stuck within his mind, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake it.

The other members of Diasomnia seemed to notice. They were used to his strict behaviour, but never before had they seen him like this. His natural stern demeanour seemed to have increased, which caused other students to keep out of his way.

Two other students from Diasomnia seemed particularly concerned. One a blue fairy and the other a gifted magician. They had kept a close eye on Sebek ever since he came back with the others, noticing that something was off. They split off, trying to gain more information. Blue, going after Lilia, and Ali, questioning Silver. The conversation with Lilia went as well as it always does. Trying to wrangle information out of him is like trying to get Idia to leave his room. The boy lives for gossip, but loves to keep a secret. As such, he was no help.

Ali wasn't a fan of talking to Silver, but her curiosity got the better of her. For the sake of gossip, she approached the silver haired male. He was standing outside of his room, not being able to sleep as the sound of footsteps prevented him from doing so. He looked awful, deep purple bags hung under his eyes. Ali had to stifle a laugh before speaking. "What's up with him?" Ali questioned, pointing to Sebek.

Silver sighed. Truth be told, he had no clue. He didn't care enough about his accomplice to question why he was acting like that. "I have no idea," He grumbled. "But I want it to stop." He was just about to approach Sebek when Ali pulled him back. He lazily turned to face her, unfazed by everything. She pulled a frown. "Okay, something must have happened. Did another student challenge Malleus, again?" No. That couldn't be right. If someone challenged Malleus, Sebek would be overjoyed that he won. He wouldn't be walking by himself, he would be fangirling.

"I think it's best if we ask him directly." Blue piped up. Silver and Ali jumped, both surprised to see the fairy suddenly standing behind them. Ali condemned Blue for sneaking up on her, warning that next time she'll have to put a bell around her neck. Blue apologised and laughed it off, turning back to the subject at hand. "So, did something happen?"

Silver ran a hand through his hair, trying to recall the day. He talked as he headed back to his room. "Nothing, really. The only thing that I can think about is him running into a Heartslabyul student, but she was nothing of interest..." With that, a tired Silver retreated to his room, leaving the two girls with more questions.

In the end, it was the blue fae that approached the distressed guard. He stopped dead in his tracks when she approached him, and gave a small bow. Blue was quick to brush off the formalities while Ali concealed a snicker. She had to admit, it was funny seeing an intimidating student like Sebek bow to someone as adorable as Blue. "Here, sit down for a moment." They moved into a concealed area of the Diasomnia dorm, where students would often calmly drink tea and talk. With a wave of her magic wand, three cups and saucers appeared on the table, along with a fancy tea set. She poured a drink for Ali, and then herself. "Would you like a drink? Black coffee?" Blue questioned.

Sebek nodded. He had never tried black coffee before, but had seen Silver drink it many times. Surely, if it was good enough for Silver, it was good enough for him. Blue handed the freshly brewed coffee to him, presented in a chequer cup.

His body instantly rejected it, the bitter taste doing nothing to soothe his worries. Blue noticed this and charged in to help. "Sorry! That must be really bitter. Oh, I have an idea!" Blue reached into her bag and pulled out two flasks. One was white and the other was green. Ali raised an eyebrow as she watched Blue pour the green one in, stir the concoction with a silver spoon, then top it off with the white flask. "Here you go, peppermint syrup and creamer. I think you'll find the drink much more manageable."

Sebek took the drink eagerly, letting the sweet smell waft through the air. He took one sip, and was instantly smitten. The other two watched him gulp the drink down, seeing an almost immediate change in attitude. Blue cleared her throat.

"Now, hon. Why don't you tell us what's troubling you?"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #self insert #oc x cannon #sebek zigvolt #I can't stop writing this storyline I'm finding it too fun #Can you spot all the references?#anna x sebek

25 notes · View notes

stories-by-rie · 5 years ago

Text

#4 Winter Panic

A/N: there’s some swearing in this one, also some panic

Several months later, winter was still clinging to Guhlsdorf, covering it in a coat of white. While everyone was longing for the spring to come, the new students at the Searcher’s School had found a new home behind those walls that shielded them from the outside.

It was a boring day. The first year was only theoretical studies of runes and while harsh wind was blowing outside, the students were listening to the different types of runes associated with healing purposes.

“And this one, called Hanne, is a rune that will slow down blood flow. How and why that can be useful is something you will study next year in medicine class. But you need to be able to read it either way of course, and it will be relevant for the midterms.” The teacher, Mrs Martens, in front of the class was a woman close to her retirement. She wore her grey hair in a strict bun, wrinkles on her forehead that surely had come from all the frowning. Despite her appearance, she was a very soft person though. Her voice was light and when she spoke, it was a little as if the words danced to her students. She was quite tolerant and maybe even as the only teacher at that school, she was indifferent to Jeanne’s family relations. Not only indifferent, but she actually seemed to have grown quite fond of her. Which might have been the reason, why she instantly noticed when something was wrong.

“Ms Everley, are you fine?”, she interrupted her class and every head turned to the pale girl sitting in the back of the classroom. She had buried her face into her hands and as her name was mentioned she flinched and looked up. “Is it your headaches again?”, Mrs Martens added.

“No, no, I am fine”, Jeanne replied hurriedly, her voice a little stiff.

“Are you sure? You may go to the infirmary if your health isn’t well.”

“Mrs Martens”, another girl interrupted and put on a too friendly smile, “I think Jeanne must suffer from exhaustion, since she clearly didn’t have a headache, but fell asleep during class.”

Chatter and quiet giggles echoed through the room and Mrs Marten’s friendly face grew a little darker.

“Well, if it’s exhaustion, you may be excused from today’s lecture and rest instead. If that’s not the case, I want to ask you to listen more carefully, please.”

Gloating hung in the air until the teacher resumed the course. Obviously, Jeanne stayed in the class, after all she hadn’t fallen asleep due to exhaustion but boredom.

“You can’t always fall asleep during class, they’re going to kick you out of school”, Ahn scolded on their way back to their dormitories after class was over. Jeanne let her shoulders drop and sighed deeply.

“I know, I know. It’s just so boring. I can’t help it.”

“You have to think of something exciting instead. Like, think about your favourite noodle soup. You won’t fall asleep.”

“Ahn, if I have to hear your passive complaints about the school’s food one more time, I’ll feed you my succulent”, Mira bickered and crossed her arms before her chest.

“It’s not my fault! We’ve been here for four months now, and the only soup they serve in the canteen is lentil soup. Lentil! Who liked lentil soup?”

“Anyway. They won’t kick you out for falling asleep, but the other students already dislike you, so you shouldn’t give them something to hold against you”, Mira said to Jeanne.

“I know, I know.”

“It’s kinda unfair. My family never taught me anything about runes, Collectors and Searchers. Nothing aside from anecdotes that is. You really have such a cool advantage”, Ahn dreamed and opened the door to their dormitory for them.

“Well, at least you actually think that classes are interesting. So I don’t know whether I would call my strict education an actual advantage.” It was late in the afternoon and the few hours of their free time laid before them. After their tight schedule, no one of them really was in the mood to do any activities, and so they agreed to just hang out in their rooms. Ahn left on her floor and finally Jeanne and Mira were alone in theirs again as well.

During the time the two girls had managed to warm up to each other a little and the first thing that happened as they entered their dorm was that Mira turned on the music. Jeanne, who never really had bothered for this art, liked the change. She sat down on her bed and started to read through one of her books, while Mira worked on her playlist, singing along to one of blackpink’s songs, dancing along as good as possible while working on her laptop.

“How can you actually read stuff like that after that horrible day? Isn’t your head going to explode learning those high level runes?”

“I was sleeping during all classes. So...”

Mira giggled and as she had her music set, she pulled out her crotchet and sung along in very questionable Korean.

It was only a few hours later that sirens started wailing. Mira and Jeanne both shot up, alarmed looks on their faces.

“Maybe it’s just a training?”, Mira whispered.

“At nine in the evening?”

“Is that the siren for fire or creatures?”

“Creatures.”

They looked at each other, and in unison got ready to leave the dormitories.

Hectic voices yelled through the building, over all of them the older students who tried to keep the panic down.

“Where’s Ahn?”, asked Mira with slight fear in her voice.

“Don’t worry, she’s probably already outside. Let’s just hurry.”

The sky was already black and the clouds shut out all the light the moon could have offered. The heavy and rhythmic steps of the Searchers stomped through the snow, while the lower grades walked towards the open spaces where they had to gather.

“Fuck, I can’t see Ahn anywhere.” Mira stood on her tiptoes but it was impossible to find single faces among the mass of students.

“Don’t worry, Mira. She definitely is here. You’ll notice as soon as someone whines about being hungry”, Jeanne tried to calm her, but it didn’t work at all.

“There! I can see her room mate! Why isn’t she with her?”

Mira fought her way through the people, Jeanne following her closely. Ahn’s room mate was chatting with other classmates, the same horrified look on her face.

“Tanja, where is Ahn?” Mira had put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, her grip a little too tight.

“Gosh, what do I know. She wasn’t in our room when the sirens started so she could legit be anywhere.”

“Fuck. Jeanne. Let’s look for her, please?”

Jeanne didn’t like that idea at all. They weren’t supposed to leave the gather places under any circumstances, but she also saw the panic in her friend’s eyes. Moreover, she considered Ahn her friend as well and was worried just as much.

“Okay.” They stormed out of the place, a few hands tried to hold them back. The cold wind stung in their eyes and lungs and it was hard to walk on the high snow, causing them to nearly slip several times. Mira yelled Ahn’s name over and over again, but the sirens were way too loud for her to actually be heard.

“Damn it, Jeanne. Where is she?”

They stood close to the school ground’s gates, the flashing light throwing bizarre shadows on their faces. With a loud humming the flood lights got turned on, illuminating the whole campus in white light as if it was day.

“Fuck, I can’t see anything”, Mira cursed. Blinded by the light, they would have nearly missed Ahn who was running towards them.

“Mira! Jeanne! Oh wow I am so relieved to find you here.”

“Shit, Ahn where have you been?”

“The drinks dispenser in our dormitory is broken so I went for the one in the dormitory next to ours. But I didn’t know the way to the gathering place from there”, she apologized and with a slightly mischievous grin she added “Why, were you worried about me?”

Mira was too angry to answer and just grabbed her wrist to lead the way back.

A fast shadow lunged at them. Ever so elegantly, Mira kicked it away from them.

“Don’t you touch her!”, she shouted at the creature. The cold light made the grey body look even more like a corpse, the four eyes staring at them, a gnarl rumbled inside.

“How did those get inside?”, Ahn shrieked and dropped her water bottle.

The creature shook its body, crunched down and prepared to jump at them again.

“This should not be possible”, Jeanne mumbled and before they could be attacked again, they started to run.

“Just don’t look back, just run to the gathering place!”, Mira said.

“I honestly don’t know if that’s such a good idea, we will just lead them to the rest of the students”, Jeanne replied.

“Isn’t a Searcher here anywhere? Help!”, Ahn shouted and did the only reasonable thing.

“There are more!”, Jeanne warned them as she had dared a look behind.

“How many?”

“Four.”

Mira mumbled another curse and started to run even faster. “Let’s just find someone who knows how to fight these things!”

A loud thud as one of the creatures got hold of Jeanne’s leg. She kicked herself free and with a helping hand of Mira, she got up again.

“What are you still doing here? You were supposed to gather – oh shit!” Finally they had found a Searcher. The girl stared at the creatures with the same horror as they did, but she had her collector ready. The golden device hovered above her left hand and with the right she quickly chose the rune and blasted the creatures away.

“Go to the gathering place. Don’t tell anyone of this just yet to avoid panic!”, she ordered and the three friends quickly complied.

~ masterlist ~

#writeblr #invincible #4 winter panic #1700 words #go save your girlfriend mira #quite happy with how this one turned out #cw swearing #fiction #fantasy #story by rie #i don't know what to tag this as

4 notes · View notes

authormitchel-blog · 6 years ago

Text

GOF: Part 12

Harry was sitting in the common room waiting for Blaise to get ready so they could head to Transfiguration when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. But when he looked back there was no one there.

“Do try to keep up, Potter,” Ely McGovern said, not standing in front of Harry.

Ely shoved something in his hands.

“What’s this?”

“Information, Potter, you can read can’t you?”

Harry nodded dumbly.

“Good then, I had my doubts, but Cass seems to think more highly of your abilities than I do. He was always one to favor lost causes and abandoned pets.”

“I’m not a….”

“Of course you’re not a pet, Potter, you’re clearly a boy,” Ely puffed some of his long blonde bangs out of his face looking handsomely candid as he did so. Harry probably would have just ended up with a mouth full of his messy locks if he attempted to do any such thing.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been getting a lot of attention, Potter, from a particular judge in this tournament.”

“Bagman?” Harry asked.

Ely waved his hand in a “come on” gesture, urging Harry to continue speaking.

“What about him? He’s a prat?”

Ely stared at him intensely.

“And are you or are you not attempting to cheat in this tournament?”

“What?” Harry exclaimed. “Of course not, I never wanted anything to do with this tournament in the first place, and I certainly don’t want anything to do with Bagman now.”

“Then why were you talking with him in Hogsmeade a while back?”

Harry huffed, feeling all sorts of wobbly as Ely showed him the other side of his politician’s persona, the one who gets the information they want at any cost.

“That was nothing. He was just talking to me about Barty Crouch.”

“Yes,” said Ely. “And just how much do you know about Mr. Crouch?”

“He’s been sick. I mean, my mate Ron’s brother works for him, but that’s it.”

“Ah, but I meant how well do you know, Mr. Crouch?”

“I just answered you?” Harry said, uncertain of his certain answer.

“Did you?” Ely asked before turning to walk away. “Perhaps you should read that Potter before you go thinking that you know anything.”

Ely left him then, and Harry stared down at the parchment in his hands.

When Harry got a chance the first thing he did was read what was in the parchment, and lucky for him and Madam Pince he moved the letter off the table he had it on in the library as soon as it caught on fire after he was finished with it. For someone with a Pureblood upbringing Ely sure did seem to like to reference Muggle movies.

Harry got out his quill and started a letter to Remus. If he wanted to know what happened right after the first war then Remus would be the one to know. Everything that Ely or whomever had written about Crouch couldn’t be true, could it?

Harry received a reply back that next morning at breakfast.

“Dear Harry,

Sirius says hello. He is currently out at the shops. The ministry has allowed him that much leave to stray from our residence. We are working on attaining license for a visit to see you very soon. Having a Hogwarts champion for the school looks quite good on the Ministry and a happy one looks even better. I did quite enjoy what you said about SPEW at the first task, that was wonderfully put. Should I think Ms. Granger or Ms. Bulstrode for the lovely outfit you were photographed as wearing? All joking aside, I am glad that you are well. Sirius has been in a tizzy, and I confess that I am not that much better. But using what skills you have and what tools are available is a wonderful lesson for dealing with the Dark Arts and I’m glad that you remembered that. You always were one of the best DADA students. Please also tell Ms. Granger that I still have her last essay with extended notes and commentary if she would like me to owl it to you for her. She has been quite insistent on its status.

Please tell me that you are being careful. I have no idea how you came by the information that you did, but I have to tell you that everything that you wrote to me is right. Barty Crouch did serve as the sentencing agent in many of the cases regarding rouge death eaters. Karkaroff was one of them. He eagerly gave up the names to several others. Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy. I am sure that none of these names will come as a surprise to you Harry. Everything you read in that harrowing account was real, even the part about Crouch sentencing his own son. He was involved in the rather gruesome torture of the Longbottoms alongside the Lestranges. We were rather good friends with the Longbottoms. They were fierce aurors and they loved each other and their son very much. I was glad to see that Neville is so much like them as you are your father. Barty Crouch Jr. was sentenced to a life sentence in Azkaban. His poor mother was devastated, but it turned his father into the man that he is today, strict, unrelenting.

We have no information about Crouch yet, but we will check into things on this side. No one can seem to get a hold of him. Until then, please take care. Sirius sends his love as always. Also, Sirius and I would like to know what color you would like your room to be painted?

Love,

Remus Harry tried to think about all of the things that he had just learned about Crouch and his son, but all he could really think about was what Remus had said. His own room? What color? The tournament would be coming to an end soon, and then the year and he would have to go back to the Dursleys, but then would he? Would he finally have a home like so many of his friends and housemates had? Would he finally be able to feel like he belonged somewhere, where the people were happy to see him instead of anxious for him to leave? Would he finally have what Malfoy had? Not the summers spent in luxurious places, but the time that the boy seems to spend with his parents. Would he finally have something that most people seem to take for granted? A family?

But Harry wouldn’t. No, he would cherish it if he got the opportunity. He would, he promised himself.

Now, all he had left to do was act on the last piece of information that was in the letter. After the location, it had said, “Time to take a bath.”

***

The prefect bathroom was magnificent and large. It was the size of a swimming pool with different taps for bubbles and different colored water. He placed his things by the side and got in. It was so deep that his feet barely touched the bottom, but even as he swam a few laps around the pool no sudden streak of brilliance came upon him. No more understanding seemed forthcoming as he donned a bubble beard either.

Finally, Harry decided to just try opening the egg while he was in the water. The wailing, screeching sound filled the bathroom and he quickly closed it so as not to attract Filch. Wouldn’t that be awkward?

“I’d try putting it in the water, if I were you.”

Harry had swallowed a considerable amount of bubbles in shock. He stood up, spluttering, and saw the ghost of a very glum looking girl sitting cross-legged on top of one of the taps.

“Myrtle!” Harry said in outrage. “I’m…I’m not wearing anything.”

The foam was so dense that it hardly mattered but it was still eerie.

“I closed my eyes when you got in,” she said innocently blinking at him through her thick spectacles.

“You haven’t been to see me in ages unlike that rather nice George Weasley,” she said nice like Hermione says library. Harry tried not to think about that.

“Sorry, Myrtle, but see I got in trouble for being in there the last time. Didn’t want to risk it. If I got caught then I couldn’t visit you at all and that would have been horrible.”

Myrtle seemed slightly appeased by this.

“Well, anyway….I’d try putting the egg in the water. That’s what Cassius Warrington did. Not too handsome in the face that one, but actually quite fit. His boyfriend wasn’t that bad either.”

Harry tampered back the question of whether she had watched them take a bath too, and instead lowered the egg into the water. When he opened it….it didn’t wail. A gurgling song was coming out of it.

“You need to put your head under too,” said Myrtle.

Harry nodded, took a breath and then dived under the water.

“Come seek us where our voices sound. We cannot sing above the ground. And while you’re searching ponder this. We’ve taken what you’ll never miss, An hour long you’ll have to look, And to recover what we took, But past an hour, the prospects black, too late it’s gone it won’t come back.”

Harry popped back up above the water.

“What on Earth does that mean?”

Harry swam around in the tub for what felt like an eternity before he had to get back to the dormitory. Snape always had the head girl and boy do nightly checks to make sure that everyone was where they should be. It involved nothing more than a quick charm cast on the outside of the room that monitored body heat, but if anything was amiss, Snape was notified immediately. And Triwizard champion or not Snape would have Harry in detention for the rest of the year if he caught him out this late after hours.

After getting dressed and heading back to the common room, Harry was almost there when he felt someone pull on his collar.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Draco Malfoy said from the alcove he had just pulled Harry into.

“The dorm,” Harry answered succinctly, wondering where Crabbe and Goyle had gotten themselves off to.

“Did you get caught in a rain storm, Potter, or perhaps a poorly cast aguamenti?”

Harry shook his head no, and moved to leave when Malfoy noticed the egg.

Harry was walking away, going to the door, ready to go back to the dorm and try to solve the riddle when Draco said, “I can help you solve that thing you know.”

Harry stopped walking.

Draco met him down the hall.

“It’s obvious to everyone that you need a bit of help, and since this is now the battle between the upper and lower years, it only stands to reason that I should help you.”

“And what do you want out of it?” Harry asked, knowing that nothing with Draco Malfoy came without a cost.

“A favor to be named later,”

“Absolutely not,” Harry replied.

Malfoy laughed. “Then let’s just say that I get to be in charge of your campaign. Harry, the true Hogwarts champion.”

“I won’t bash Warrington,” Harry said plainly.

Draco scoffed.

“And you think I would. I do have eyes Potter, there’s no way I would ever want to get on Warrington’s bad side. I’d even less like to get on Ely McGovern’s bad side.”

“What’s Ely have to do with Warrington?” Harry looked on confused.

“They’re together,” Draco clarified. “Ely and Warrington, Warrington and Ely, they’re together, boyfriend and boyfriend til Warrington’s father has Ely murdered and then marries Cass off to a lovely Slytherin Pureblood with a vagina. Until then McGovern pulls that leash though I haven’t heard Warrington complaining.”

“Okay, okay,” said Harry. “I get it. Then what will you do then as the head of my campaign?”

Draco approached Harry who had basically all ready given his assent to this proposal and said, “First, you’re going to take me back to wherever you just were and I’m going to solve this puzzle for you, and then after that, I’m just going to….support you. Having a Triwizard champion from Slytherin and one as young as you are will only do good things for the House and thus by extension, me.”

Now, that made sense to Harry. He was sure that Malfoy wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but he figured that it was good enough.

“Deal,” said Harry, sticking out his hand.

Draco merely smirked then trotted off in the direction Harry had come from not even waiting for him to catch up.

***

Draco was apparently very aware of the prefect’s bathroom. He flicked his wand at the nozzles to turn on the hot water and what seemed to be a very specific series of bubbles and green balm that tinted the water.

Draco turned to look at Harry.

“I have to know how to work these for next year. It’s practically guaranteed that I’m going to be a prefect.”

“Sorry to tell you this Malfoy, but you don’t need any practice on how to be a pompous git. You don’t need a prefect badge to teach you how to be bossy.”

“The air of authority is a natural trait, Potter, that’s true,” Malfoy dismissed.

Then after making sure that the door was locked, and that no one could hear them from the outside, Draco started unbuttoning his robes.

“What are you doing? I already told you the riddle,” said Harry.

“I’m aware,” said Draco as he slipped out of his shirt.

“But I am also painfully aware of your memory and complete lack of detail when describing anything remotely important to anyone. So, forgive me if I’m not going to take your word for it.”

Harry turned away as the sound of a zipper filled the air, and he heard Malfoy slipping his pants off. Harry thought he waited long enough for Malfoy to get in the pool, but when he turned back around, Draco was still standing there naked as the day he was born.

Nobody in the dorm was particularly shy about their bodies, but it was also quick changes or Blaise walking around without a shirt, and that was when they were all bumbling first and second years trying to make it to class on time in the mornings, but this was different. Harry might spend most of his time at the Dursleys alternatively starving and working his body to exhaustion, but even he had grown taller and filled out with age.

Draco, it turned out, had done the same thing.

He was still skinny, but now it was more like lean. The sharp lines of his face were starting to soften, his legs were long, and his limbs were no longer gangly. Harry was starkly reminded of how Malfoy had looked at the Yule Ball, and how he had felt in his arms. The image of Flint and Wood’s passionate display also played out in Harry’s mind. Harry’s eyes were traveling a bit oo low when Malfoy huffed in annoyance.

“The egg, Potter,” Draco said, hurriedly.

“Oh, right,” Harry said, reaching down and then handing Malfoy the egg.

He wasted no more time after that, jumping into the water then diving under. He stayed under for so long that Harry thought that he might have to dive in after him, at least to get his egg back. But just as Harry was about to do just that. Draco popped back up. But didn’t say anything.

“Did you hear it?” asked Harry. “What do you think?”

Still, Draco remained silent.

Then Harry looked to the stained glass behind Draco. Then the words clicked.

“The Black Lake,” they said at the same time.

“What?” said Draco.

“The Black Lake, that makes perfect sense, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.”

“Right,” said Draco. “But Potter, do you know what kind of creatures live in the Black Lake? Do you know what haunts those waters? What the flicker of shadow is that blocks the light for only moments in the dorm?”

Harry shook his head no, as Draco got out and wrapped a towel around himself.

“Come on, Potter,” he said, dressing quickly. “There’s a lot I have to tell you.”

***

By the evening before the second task, Harry left as if he were trapped in a nightmare. He was fully aware that even if he found a spell that would help him hold his breath for an hour that he’d unlikely be able to master it before tomorrow. Draco had been as much help as he possibly could be, but not even all the gold in the Malfoy vaults could help him now. He sat with Hermione, Ron (Romione, as Millicent had taken to calling them), the girl herself, and Draco’s representative Crabbe in the library, tearing feverishly through one book after the other, trying to find anything that could help him.

“There must be something,” Hermione muttered. “They’d never have set a task that was undoable.” Ron looked like he wanted to disagree, but kept his mouth shut as Hermione shouted, “There has to be a way. There just has to be!”

Crabbe kept silent, dutifully flipping through book after book. But when Draco walked into the room, Crabbe breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank Salazar,” said Crabbe rising to leave with his master, commander, and owner. But Draco simply raised the letter in his hands.

“You and I have a date with Snape.”

Great, Harry thought, rising despite the bricks in his shoes.

“Not you, Potter. Snape wants to see me and Mil.”

Millicent seemed surprised by this, but said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” then lower to Ron, “Keep Granger on the rails or we’re all doomed.”

Ron nodded solemnly accepting the duty. Crabbe moved to go with them, too, following Millicent.

“Oh,” said Draco in mock surprise. “Have you solved it already, Vince? If that’s the case, you should have said and then we all would leave.”

Crabbe looked down at his hands. “No,” he muttered, sitting back down looking like a kicked puppy.

Millicent was gone for longer than Harry thought and even Hermione had to leave.

“I have a meeting with Professor McGonagall, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

Eventually both Crabbe and Ron feel asleep and Harry had to admit defeat as his own heavy eyelids fell shut.

#Slytherin!Harry #Harry Potter #Slytherin Harry #Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire #Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire rewrite #gofp12

6 notes · View notes

isthatbloodonhisshirt · 7 years ago

Text

Tutoring the Tutor

For @sterekgala‘ s Sterek New Year’s Extravaganza.

Ao3 Link on the collection.

It was starting to get a little annoying, if he was being quite honest. He was getting a little frustrated and knew that he was going to start snapping soon, which he felt would’ve been entirely within his right.

“Come on, then. Give us a look.” Isaac leaned into him heavily, attempting to see over his shoulder as Derek tried valiantly to keep his parchment away from his friend. “Derek, it’s due in ten minutes, just a quick peek!”

“You’re not going to be able to peek during your NEWTs, you might as well start anticipating failure now.”

“That was harsh,” Isaac insisted with a small pout. “After all we’ve been through together.”

“All the detentions you got me, you mean.”

“Half of those were Erica,” Isaac argued, pointing to the girl in question, who was lazily turning pages in her book, head held up in one hand, and her boyfriend Boyd pointedly ignoring them.

Derek just rolled his eyes and kept his parchment hidden away from Isaac. Really, it was his own fault for not having worked on it sooner, he knew how strict McGonagall was. He should’ve known better.

Isaac was still trying to fight him for his homework, Derek managing to keep it to himself mostly, when he heard someone say his name. He turned and saw their Head of House, Professor Sprout, waving him over from the other end of the library.

Wrenching his homework away from Isaac, he rolled it up and gathered his books, telling them he’d see them in class, and then headed for Sprout. She smiled at him as he approached, and then motioned out of the library.

He followed without a word, a part of him wondering if maybe he’d done something wrong, but he knew that couldn’t be right. Isaac often got them both in trouble, but it was never anything that he worried would get him expelled. Whatever Sprout wanted, it was likely nothing.

He followed her outside the library and she asked what his next class was before slowly heading in that direction. He figured she wanted to speak with him while making sure he wasn’t late for class.

“How are your studies going?” She asked kindly while they meandered slowly through the corridors.

“They’re fine, I think. Just trying to focus on the harder courses so I’m ready to take my NEWTs in the spring.”

Sprout looked at him fondly. “I remember your first day here as if it were yesterday. I can’t believe you’re already seventeen, in your final year. You were such a quiet little one, it’s amazing how far you’ve come.”

Derek tried to squash the embarrassed flush creeping up the back of his neck. He had always liked Professor Sprout, and he remembered being extremely pleased when he got sorted into Hufflepuff. He hadn’t ever felt like he suited any of the other houses, and he actually liked being in Hufflepuff a lot, even if he was stuck rooming with Isaac, who literally did everything in his power to get them in trouble.

Derek’s immediate family was actually one of the only ones who’d hit all four houses, none of them having been sorted into the same one.

His mother had been in Ravenclaw when she’d been coming to Hogwarts, and after having married their father—who was a muggle, and extremely patient for being stuck in a house with four magic users—they had had three children.

The eldest, Laura, had been sorted into Gryffindor. When she was in her second year, Derek had arrived and been sorted into Hufflepuff. Two years later, with Derek a third year and Laura a fourth year, their youngest sister Cora had started her first year and been sorted into Slytherin.

One family, four houses. Derek felt like he got the best deal.

“I’ve a favour to ask of you,” Spout said after another bout of silence.

“All right,” Derek said, frowning slightly at his professor.

They stopped at the end of the corridor in one of the open areas. People were talking and milling about, some of them heading for their next class while others headed for the Great Hall or the library.

“I’ve got a student in my Herbology class. Brilliant student, very talented, but it seems he’s expressed concerns with professor Flitwick about his struggles with Transfiguration. He’s concerned he won’t pass his OWLs and get into the classes he needs for sixth year.” She smiled sadly. “He’s a good lad, just easily distracted. Professor Flitwick said the student mentioned speaking to professor McGonagall about her best seventh year student, and she told him that it was you. I was wondering if you might be so kind as to help him with his studies this year. I know you have your exams to consider in the spring, but look at it as additional revision. Everything he needs for his OWLs, you will also likely need to review for your NEWTs.”

Tutor? Derek wasn’t exactly the best person to be tutoring someone else. He was grumpy and quiet and impatient. He hated slackers, despised skivers, and mostly liked to just stick to his own group of friends.

If he agreed to this, then he would be missing out on a lot of time with Isaac, Erica and Boyd.

Well, maybe not Isaac, since they roomed together.

But at the same time, everyone knew he wanted to go into teaching. Some of the professors at Hogwarts were going to retire in the next few years, and Derek was interested in seeing if he could get one of the teaching positions. Dumbledore wouldn’t even consider him if he didn’t show he could do this. Tutoring would be a good stepping stone to teaching.

And Sprout was right, tutoring someone else would help him study at the same time, so it wasn’t a terrible idea.

“Sure,” he finally said. “I can try for a bit.” He figured if the guy didn’t work hard enough or sassed Derek, he could always just drop him.

“Great. He’s a Ravenclaw fifth year named Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but everyone calls him Stiles.”

Derek almost groaned but managed to refrain. He knew the name, mostly from Cora. They were close friends, but the Hale siblings all did their own thing in school, so he didn’t really know Stiles, he just knew of Stiles.

He also remembered the first time he’d met him. It had been on the Hogwarts Express, when Derek and his friends had chosen a compartment on the train and had gotten settled. Halfway through the trip, the wall between Derek and Erica’s heads exploded, a hole forming connecting their compartment with the neighbouring one. When Derek had angrily put his face into the opening to tell off the moron who’d done it, he was greeted by a howling Cora, a terrified dark-haired first year, an annoyed redhead and a grinning Stiles holding a wand.

He’d angrily snapped for him to watch what he was doing before he took someone’s head off, and then had been forced to listen to the idiotic conversations from the next compartment over for the remainder of the trip, since the giant hole in the cabin wall made it impossible for them to keep their two compartments separate conversation-wise.

Of course, he should’ve figured Cora would stay friends with him. Despite her being sorted into Slytherin, and Stiles being sorted into Ravenclaw, they were like two peas in a pod and it drove Derek crazy because all he ever heard when they went home was Stiles this, Stiles that, Stiles is so amazing. Laura had teased her for a few years about them being together, and Cora insisted it wasn’t like that. It hadn’t been until this past summer, when Laura had been particularly nasty in her teasing, that Cora had shouted, “Fuck off, Laura, Stiles is fucking gay!”

He knew she hadn’t meant to blurt it out, because she looked horrified with herself for having done so, but it didn’t end up being a problem since Stiles had basically announced it earlier that year. Cora had probably come clean and Stiles had figured it would be best to say so himself before it spread on its own.

Which was ridiculous because who was Derek going to tell? Literally no one. He’d have to care enough about Stiles to talk about him to other people.

“Derek?”

He focussed back on Sprout, who was staring at him with concern, and cleared his throat.

“Sorry, yes professor. I’ll touch base with him in the morning and do what I can.”

“Excellent.” Sprout grinned. “I’ll inform professor Flitwick. He can let Stiles know to expect you in the morning.”

Derek nodded, bid the woman farewell, and headed off to class where he knew Boyd, Erica and Isaac would be meeting him.

He could do this for a little while. If Stiles ended up being as idiotic at his tutoring as he was in general, Derek would just drop him and tell him to figure his own shit out.

No big deal.

“What do you know about Stiles?” Derek asked Boyd while they headed for breakfast the next morning. Isaac and Derek had left the Hufflepuff dormitory early and headed in the direction of the Great Hall, but Derek had wanted to meet up with Boyd first because once Erica showed up, it’d be impossible for them to speak.

Namely because the Slytherin would attach her face to Boyd’s and try and suck the oxygen right out of his lungs. Derek still didn’t know how a Slytherin and Ravenclaw had gotten together, but he didn’t dwell on it. Erica was great, even if she was annoying.

“He’s smart,” Boyd said in his low, deep voice. “Good kid. Causes a lot of trouble, which loses us house points, but he also almost always earns double back for us.”

It was true. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seemed to be neck and neck for the house cup more often than not since Stiles’ arrival, though his friend Lydia helped, too. They were both eager beavers, and both in Ravenclaw.

“Isn’t your sister best friends with him?” Isaac asked. “Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Because it would mean talking to her.”

“You’re a right wanker,” Isaac said with a grin, the three of them heading for the Great Hall. They’d barely reached it when Erica appeared and, as predicted, she latched herself onto Boyd and they snogged in the doorway while he and Isaac just headed inside. They’d have to split for the tables anyway.

“Save me a spot,” Derek said, heading away from Hufflepuff and towards Ravenclaw instead.

It was easy to spot Stiles, because he was the most animated person at the table, and had a group of fangirls around him, sighing wistfully with their chins in their hands, staring at him with practical hearts in their eyes.

Derek didn’t get it. Especially since everyone knew he wasn’t into girls, but he figured they were just hopeful.

He walked right up behind him and interrupted him mid-sentence.

“Stiles.”

The student in question cut himself off and turned, staring up at Derek and grinning. “Hey Derek! What brings you here?”

“Sprout said she’d tell Flitwick,” he insisted grumpily. “I’m your tutor for Transfiguration.”

“Tutor?” Lydia asked, having been reading beside Stiles while eating her breakfast. “What on earth do you need a tutor in Transfiguration for? Aren’t—”

“Tell the whole school, why don’t you?” Stiles cut off, hissing the words at her while scrambling out of his seat on the bench and motioning for Derek to follow him away from the table. Sighing internally, he followed him to a more secluded area. Stiles crossed his arms defensively, shifting his weight and eying Derek.

“Thanks, I guess. For helping. Um, what time works for you?”

“I’ve got Quidditch practice on Tuesdays after five. Do you have any activities?”

“Nope, I’m cool with only one type of ball flying at my face.” His eyes widened at his own words and he rubbed at his face with both hands. “Ignore I said that.”

“With pleasure,” Derek grit out. “We can set up a schedule for you. How about a few hours on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. Meet in the library after supper and I can help you for a few hours.”

“Sure.” Stiles half-smiled. “Sounds good. So, today too, then?”

“No time like the present.” Derek turned to leave, but Stiles grabbed his sleeve and tugged lightly.

“Derek?” He turned back to him. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Just don’t waste my time.”

Derek moved away from him once more and headed for his table. He found Isaac easily enough and took the empty seat beside him, the other chatting away at him the moment he sat down. He ignored him for the most part and went about eating his breakfast.

After they’d all finished eating, they headed off to their various classes. Derek saw Stiles a bit ahead of him, along with Lydia. They met up quickly with Cora, and another boy from Gryffindor, whom Stiles immediately put into a chokehold just for fun.

The kid was an idiot. He was still a child, despite being a fifth year, and apparently failing a class, which was ridiculous. How Boyd could insist he was smart, Derek had no idea. There were much harder courses than Transfiguration.

They reached their first class relatively quickly, and took their various seats. Derek spent a majority of the day trying to plan the study schedule for Stiles. He paid attention to his lessons, and took notes, of course, but there were some parts of the lessons he already knew extremely well and he used that time to try and organize his thoughts.

The day passed quickly, and after he finished with supper, he bid his friends farewell and headed back to the dorm to grab some of his books, then went to the library.

Stiles was already waiting for him, books open in front of him and the Ravenclaw taking notes on a piece of parchment. Derek had to at least give him credit for looking like he was trying.

Wandering over to him, he dropped his own books across from him, Stiles jumping before glancing up. He grinned when he saw Derek, straightening and putting his quill down.

“Hey.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Derek said while taking a seat. “I’m doing this as a favour to professor Sprout, nothing more. If you slack off, if you don’t show any improvement, and if you waste my time, I’ll drop you and leave you to fail your OWLs, understand? I only have a few months before my own exams, and I won’t waste time on a hopeless cause.”

Stiles seemed a little startled at his words, but he just nodded emphatically, saluting Derek.

“Yes sir, Derek sir! Understood. Shall we begin?”

Derek grunted and asked Stiles what chapters he was struggling with. The first night of tutoring had mostly just been Derek trying to figure out what Stiles needed help with, and taking notes on his various errors and grades—the ones Stiles remembered, anyway. Derek suggested they try some practice wand movements, but Stiles had immediately dismissed that and reminded Derek of the hole in the compartment wall.

Derek didn’t want to lose his eyebrows, so he agreed perhaps the practice could come later and to focus on the academic side first.

All in all, it had been a good lesson. Stiles had been attentive, though he fidgeted a lot, playing with his quill, tapping his fingers, jerking his legs up and down. It was clear sitting still wasn’t his forte, but he’d listened to everything Derek had said, and when the Hufflepuff told him he was assigning homework he expected done for the following day, Stiles had just nodded and agreed without complaint.

After three and a half hours, he decided it had been long enough and they began packing away their things.

“Thank Derek,” Stiles said with a huge grin. “I appreciate your help.”

“Sure,” Derek replied, watching Stiles walk away with a bounce in his step. He just rolled his eyes and gathered his own things, getting to his feet. He turned and almost walked right into Cora, who was standing right behind him, glaring with her arms crossed.

“What are you doing?”

“What does that mean?” Derek demanded, side-stepping her and beginning to head for the exit. She kept up right behind him, poking him insistently in the back.

“I mean what are you doing? Why were you hanging out with Stiles?”

“I wasn’t ‘hanging out’ with your friend,” Derek snapped, turning to glare over his shoulder. Was she worried that Stiles would drop her for him or something? “I was tutoring him.”

“Tutoring him? You?”

“Something wrong with that?” he demanded while they exited the library, Cora moving so they were walking side by side now.

“Why on earth would you be tutoring Stiles? In what class?”

“Transfiguration.”

“Transfiguration?” Cora echoed. “You?”

“Is there an echo in here? Yes, Cora, I’m tutoring him in Transfiguration. Sprout came to me saying he needed help, and I’ve got the best grades in my year for McGonagall’s class, so I was asked to help him out so he didn’t fail his OWLs.”

Cora frowned at him, looking thoughtful. “Huh.”

She turned down another corridor without explanation and Derek just chalked it up to her being worried he was stealing her friend. Cora didn’t have very many, mostly just the same group Stiles hung out with. Stiles himself seemed to be fairly popular, so he always had people around, but he seemed to prefer the company of Cora, Lydia and his Gryffindor friend. If Cora thought Derek was encroaching on her territory, she would be a pain in his ass to deal with.

Derek didn’t hear from Cora again, and when he saw her with Stiles the next day before breakfast, they seemed perfectly normal. The only change was that it looked like Cora was teasing him a lot more than usual, and his face would go pink before he batted away at her. Derek didn’t pay them any mind after that, going back to Isaac’s inane chatter and eventually leaving the Great Hall for class.

When he went back to tutoring Stiles that evening, he found he’d done his homework, as requested, and was somewhat surprised at some of his answers. He hadn’t done horribly, but he hadn’t done great, either. Derek spent a majority of the evening explaining the part where he’d gone wrong and Stiles took meticulous notes, nodding along and listening attentively. They parted around nine, Stiles grinning broadly and thanking him before gathering his things and exiting the library.

This continued on for close to a month, and Derek found Stiles was improving little by little, which was really rewarding for him, because he was obviously making a difference. He still got frustrated at some of the insane errors Stiles made, but he fought for patience and just explained them to him again.

By the second month, Stiles was improving further, but had also gotten a bit chattier. When Derek set him up with some worksheets to do, which would allow Derek to still tutor him while also doing some of his own homework, Stiles had started speaking to him.

He never said anything interesting, mostly just asked him questions about his plans for the future, what courses he was taking, what life was like living with Cora, things like that. He asked him about weekend plans a lot, and Derek assumed it was because he wanted to study some during the weekend, but Derek needed time to study and do homework, too, so he always responded as such.

It was weird listening to Stiles speak sometimes though, and despite his better judgement one day, Stiles said something that reminded Derek of Erica and Cora, and he said,

“You really sound like you should’ve been in Slytherin.”

Stiles looked pleased to have Derek engaging in conversation and had leapt on it, quickly saying, “You know, the Sorting Hat actually wanted to put me in Slytherin. It really, really did, but my best friend from back home, Scott, well he ended up in Gryffindor. He got sorted before me, so that was a done deal.” Stiles drummed his fingers against the table while he spoke. “It’s a known fact that people sorted between Slytherin and Gryffindor, even if they arrive as friends, they always leave as enemies.” Stiles shrugged. “I didn’t want to leave Hogwarts having lost my best friend, so I kept telling the Hat nope, nope, not going to Slytherin, you can put me anywhere but there, I don’t care, you can even put me in fucking Hufflepuff if you want.”

Derek glared at him for that comment but Stiles just grinned, clearly teasing, and continued.

“It eventually gave up and put me in Ravenclaw.”

Now that Derek thought about it, he actually did remember Stiles taking a while to be sorted. It was probably because the Hat had been adamant that he’d do well in Slytherin but Stiles kept insisting he didn’t want that.

“Do you really think you and your friend would’ve ended your friendship just because of the houses you’re in?”

“You should see Cora and Scott go at it,” Stiles insisted, eyebrows shooting up. “If Lydia and I weren’t there to mediate, I’m pretty sure they’d have killed each other by now. It makes me sad, but as long as I get to keep them both as friends, that’s what really matters to me.” He shrugged again, then grinned. “But don’t tell anyone about the Hat’s accuracy, okay?”

Derek snorted. “Oh yeah. You definitely should’ve been in Slytherin.”

“Why do you think Cora and I get along so well?” Stiles winked at him and Derek snorted, then they went back to what they were doing.

He found as time passed that he didn’t mind Stiles so much. He was a little loud and rambunctious at times, but still funny and very kind. He’d started bringing by various Quidditch related items once a week when he’d found out who Derek’s favourite team was. His mother apparently used to work for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, so he had connections with most of the teams in the league. He often brought by either things from Derek’s favourite team, or various good luck charms for when games were around the corner.

Derek thought it was extremely kind of him, and when his mother had sent over some home-made sweets, he’d brought them to the tutoring session and offered some to Stiles.

“Aw, yes!” Stiles had instantly grabbed a handful of treats, shoving them into his mouth. “Dude, your mother makes the best cookies!”

It hadn’t occurred to Derek that Stiles would’ve already been exposed to his mother’s baking, but he was friends with Cora, so he should’ve figured.

Halfway through the second month of sessions, Derek was in the process of correcting Stiles’ worksheet while the other drummed absently on the table, looking around. He was doing better, but still not as good as Derek had been hoping.

“So,” Stiles said while Derek’s quill scratched away, “I was wondering, are you doing anything this weekend?”

“No,” Derek said, pleased when he saw Stiles answer one of the sections he’d previously been struggling with correctly. “Studying, probably.”

“Oh, cool. Cool.” Stiles’ hands drummed a little louder, causing the librarian to shush him. He mouthed an apology, Derek letting out a small laugh. Stiles was silent for a moment, then continued. “So. Uh, it’s a Hogsmeade weekend. I was uh, I was thinking—”

“Is it?” Derek asked, interrupting him without entirely meaning to, his mind half on what he was correcting and half on the conversation. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t go to Hogsmeade.”

“Oh, right.” He glanced up when he heard Stiles’ voice seem to deflate, but the other propped it back up and grinned at him when he saw Derek looking. “Yeah, of course. You’re a seventh year, you’ve probably been like, a bazillion times.” Stiles laughed and rubbed awkwardly at his arm.

Derek just went back to what he was grading, finishing up and handing it back to Stiles to look over. It was getting late, so he said they could go through everything on Monday when they had their next session and Stiles nodded.

He smiled and thanked Derek like he always did, but he didn’t look as bright and excited as he usually did when he left him. Derek frowned at his retreating back, then shrugged and started packing away his things. Someone slid into the seat across from him, and he looked up to see Erica there, giving him a look.

“You’re an idiot. He was trying to ask you out.”

Derek blinked at her, surprised, and wondered how long she’d been there. He saw books in her hand, and figured she’d been looking for something for one of her classes.

“No, he wasn’t,” he insisted, finishing up with his things but not standing, since Erica was still giving him a look.

“Derek, he was totally asking you out.”

“Trust me, he wasn’t. He asks me about my weekends all the time.”

“Then he’s either clued in to your stupidity, or really bad at taking no for an answer, because I can tell that kid is crazy about you.” Erica flipped some hair over her shoulder, then grabbed her books. “I can ask Cora, if you want.”

“No,” Derek said sharply. “He’s not into me, don’t be stupid.”

“You’re the stupid one, but if you say so.” Erica shrugged and stood. “Boyd and I are going to Hogsmeade, by the way. Isaac has detention. Hope studying is more interesting than a date with Stiles.”

“It wasn’t a date invitation!” Derek insisted after her when she walked away. The librarian shushed him angrily and he winced, turning back to his things and gathering them up before standing to head back to the Hufflepuff dormitory.

Derek slept badly that night because his brain wouldn’t turn off. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Erica had said, but it seemed insane to consider. Stiles was extremely popular, and not only in his own house. Yes, Derek knew he was gay, but he felt certain that if Stiles was interested in him, he would’ve been a lot more direct in asking him out. Stiles had nothing to worry about, he was more coveted than Derek was, and everyone knew Derek didn’t discriminate.

He’d dated a girl in first year, two different guys in third year, and had alternated between both genders for a majority of his time at Hogwarts. He wasn’t as popular as Stiles, but Derek knew he was attractive. He usually got involved with people because they thought he was good looking, and then they got tired of his prickly personality and dropped him. Which he was fine with, really, because if he was going to be with someone, they had to be able to put up with him whether he was in a good mood or not.

Stiles seemed to be pretty good at that, though. No matter what kind of mood Derek was in, Stiles always stuck around. Even nights where Derek knew he was being intolerable and insisted they cut things short so he didn’t say anything he’d regret, Stiles insisted it was fine and stuck it out, despite Derek’s terrible attitude.

“Hey Isaac,” Derek asked while they headed for class the next day. “Do you think Stiles likes me?”

“Probably, nobody can stand to spend that much time with you otherwise.”

Derek gave Isaac an annoyed look, but didn’t say anything. They just sat down in their Transfiguration class and took notes as always. They had a few practice sessions throughout the course of the lesson and Derek realized one of the items they were working on was the same one Stiles had been struggling with a few days ago but now seemed to have improved on.

When class ended, he hadn’t exactly meant to linger, but he found himself packing up more slowly than usual and he waved for Isaac to head out without him. When the class was empty save himself and McGonagall, he headed over to her hesitantly and stopped in front of her desk.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Hale?” she asked, lowering her glasses slightly and looking at him over them.

“I was just—I was wondering if you could tell me how Stiles is doing,” he said cautiously.

“Why, may I ask, would you like to know?”

“Well, I’ve been tutoring him for the past two months, and he’s really improved lately, so I was just curious how he’s been in your classes since we started.”

McGonagall was silent for a while, staring at him, then pulled her glasses off and said, “What are you talking about, Hale? Why would Mr. Stilinski need a tutor for my class, he’s got the highest grade in the entire school in Transfiguration.”

Derek stared at her for a long while, and found it somewhat comical that a small part of him had expected this to happen. Ever since Erica’s comment the night before, he’d remembered the way Lydia had reacted when Derek had wandered over to tell him their tutoring schedule. He remembered Cora’s incredulous reaction to the same news, and how she’d wandered away without a word. Even Boyd had said Stiles was smart when he’d asked him about him.

Stiles didn’t need tutoring at all. He was just using that as an excuse to spend time with Derek.

Holy shit, Erica was right! Stiles liked him!

“Forgive me, but can I ask you how Stiles is doing academically overall?” Derek asked.

McGonagall leaned back in her seat, eying him for a few moments, then said, “It’s not appropriate for me to share another student’s grades, but I feel comfortable telling you that Stiles is one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever seen come through these doors. Every few years we encounter a student with exceptional skills, and Stiles is definitely at the top of the list. He wants to be an Auror, like his father. I dare say he won’t have any problems achieving that goal.”

Derek felt like a fucking idiot.

“Thank you, professor.”

She nodded, put her glasses back on, and went back to whatever she was doing.

Derek left the classroom, feeling stupid and almost angry. Stiles had essentially been wasting his time with this stupid tutoring business. Sure, it was good for Derek, because he was studying a lot while tutoring him, but if Stiles was so fucking smart, surely there were other ways for him to get Derek’s attention?!

He walked right into someone in his anger, and heard a shout. Grabbing at the arm of who he’d almost knocked over, he scowled angrily when he noticed it was Cora. She glared back, peeling Derek’s fingers off her arm and turning to gather her fallen books.

“Walk much?” she demanded.

“How long have you known Stiles likes me?” he blurted out.

Cora froze for a moment, then slowly turned her head to look at him. She eyed him warily, then finished gathering her things and stood, sighing.

“Look, Derek, it might have escaped your notice, but people have known about his crush on you for two years.”

Two years?! What?!

“He’s tried getting your attention in the past. He tried to talk to you a few times on the train, or at Quidditch games, but you always just brushed him off as that moron who’d blown a hole in the compartment wall in his first year. When I found out you were tutoring him, I went to ask him what the hell he was doing, because Stiles is a fucking genius. He just said that, to date, it was the only way he’d gotten you to talk to him.” She shrugged. “He wasn’t trying to be malicious or anything, he just wanted to spend time with you. You wouldn’t give it to him, so he found another way to do it. He told me he was asking around with the professors on who their best student in their classes were for the seventh years, and McGonagall was the first one to say it was you. So he went to Flitwick and said he was having trouble with Transfiguration, and obviously that wasn’t going to work for Flitwick because Stiles is his favourite, so he went to see Sprout to ask about getting you to tutor him since Stiles told him he’d spoken to McGonagall and she’d recommended you.” Cora shrugged. “You have to give him credit, he wanted this bad enough he risked the professors talking to one another and finding out he was full of shit.” She punched him lightly in the arm. “Give him a chance. He’s awesome, and you’d love him if you just stopped seeing him as the idiot who blew a hole in the wall.”

“He invited me to Hogsmeade,” Derek said with a small scowl.

“He told me. You said no. Shocker.”

Derek glared at her and she just rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t know it was supposed to be a date.”

“Well, now you do. And now you know what lengths he went to in order for you to just talk to him.” She shrugged again and started walking backwards. “Just give him a chance, would you? Stiles is amazing, and he’d be good for you. And hey, maybe he can tutor you in your shitty classes.”

Derek threw a book at her but she just ducked and laughed, running away from him before he could do any real damage.

Derek was still mad the entirety of the day, but the more he ranted about it to Erica, Isaac and Boyd, the more he realized that he honestly hadn’t noticed how hard Stiles had been trying to get his attention. His friends remembered, though, and were quick to give him all kinds of examples of things that he hadn’t even remembered happening.

The year before, he’d gotten an incredibly amazing and thoughtful Valentine’s from an anonymous source. He hadn’t asked anyone if they knew who it was from, figuring whoever it was would’ve told him by now, but Boyd admitted that he’d known it was Stiles because he’d seen him working on it in the common room. He hadn’t said anything because Derek had never asked, and he figured it wasn’t his place to give away Stiles’ anonymity.

Erica reminded him of the insane Hufflepuff support their Quidditch games always had from the Ravenclaw stands, even when the games were being played against Ravenclaw house itself.

There were just little things that all of his friends had noticed about Stiles that Derek hadn’t even realized. The more they talked to him, the less angry he became and he realized Stiles truly did just want to talk to him, and Derek had never given him the time of day. Of course he’d had to resort to drastic measures, Derek was in his last year at Hogwarts, and that made this Stiles’ last chance. He probably thought Derek was incredibly dense for not realizing he liked him and, honestly, Derek himself did feel pretty dense.

When he woke up the next morning, he made sure to do so with plenty of time to get breakfast and head to the Entrance Hall. He changed quickly, ignored the snoring Isaac who was definitely late for detention, and went to grab some breakfast. He chatted with some of the other people in his house, and then headed for the doors when the Hogsmeade visits would start.

He was one of the first ones there, and he handed his permission slip to Filch without even looking at him. He headed down the stairs and waited at the bottom, feeling somewhat anxious and shoving his hands in his pockets.

It was getting a littler cooler out, but not enough to need more than a jumper, so he just shifted his weight from foot to foot to keep himself moving and kept an eye on everyone exiting the castle. After almost fifteen minutes, Derek saw Stiles walk out, talking animatedly to his Gryffindor friend Scott. Lydia and Cora were behind them, speaking quietly to one another, the four of them walking down the steps.

Cora saw him first and Derek tensed, expecting some kind of comment, but she just grinned happily and nudged Stiles, motioning Derek. When Stiles turned to look at him, Derek waved awkwardly and only felt better when Stiles turned almost embarrassingly red in the face. He said something to his friends, almost tripped the rest of the way down the stairs, and hurried over to where Derek was.

“Hey,” he said breathlessly, smiling brightly.

“Hi,” Derek replied. Before he could say anything else, Stiles continued.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “About the tutoring thing. But I just didn’t know what else to do, and I figured that tutoring me would also help keep your brain active for your own courses, and it would help with your NEWTs and I mean, those are still so far off, we’re only just about to start our third month of classes, so—”

Derek reached out and covered Stiles’ mouth with one hand, making him stop speaking immediately.

“I was mad at first, but people helped put things into perspective.” He lowered his hand when it became clear Stiles wouldn’t start yammering again. “I’m sorry for how I treated you before. I guess I couldn’t get the image of the first year who blew a hole in the train out of my head.”

Stiles laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t too happy about that. He still brings it up when I try and argue how he’s lucky I’m such a great kid.”

Derek smiled slightly. “Well, I might bring it up, too, but I’m willing to spend a bit more time with you, if that’s what you’d like, though not as a tutor.”

“Yes!” Stiles nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, absolutely!”

“Great.” Derek motioned down the path with his elbow, hands in his pockets again. “Want to go to Hogsmeade?”

Stiles beamed at him and nodded, the two of them walking slowly down the path. Derek had no idea where this relationship was going, but as Stiles spoke animatedly about Quidditch and the ways to improve flight on an older model broom, he realized that he was more than willing to give Stiles a chance.

He may have lied, but he’d had good intentions. And he’d apologized.

Besides, Derek would never admit this aloud, but he’d kind of grown fond of his sister’s idiotic Ravenclaw friend.

By the time they reached Hogsmeade, their hands were linked together, and they both had ridiculous smiles on their faces.

Derek was okay with that.

END.

#teen wolf #TW #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Sterek #sgalahp #isthatbloodonhisshirt #isthatbloodonhisshirt works #isthatbloodonhisshirt SNYE

8 notes · View notes

lesbianrewrites · 8 years ago

Text

Sorcerer’s Stone Chapter 08

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page.

This is a Lesbian edit of Harry Potter by J.K Rowling.

Chapters will be posted every Monday, Wednesday & Friday around 9-10pm EST.

Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

The Potions Master

“There, look.”

“Where?”

“Next to the tall kid with the long red hair.”

“Wearing the glasses?”

“Did you see her face?”

“Did you see her scar?”

Whispers followed Hayley from the moment she left her dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. Hayley wished they wouldn’t, she also wished she could control her hair for once, of course the curly mess atop her head would choose today of all days to refuse to block her scar from view, especially considering she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump, and some with an extra step trying to trip you up. Then there were doors that wouldn’t open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren’t really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Hayley was sure the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn’t help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, “GOT YOUR CONK!”

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Hayley and Raine managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn’t believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamplike eyes just like Filch’s. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she’d whisk off for Filch, who’d appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Hayley quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Hayley’s name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Hayley had been quite right to think she wasn’t a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” she said. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realized they weren’t going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. Her classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire she’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get her one of these days. Her turban, she told them, had been given to her by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever she went.

Hayley was very relieved to find out that she wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like her, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Raine didn’t have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Hayley and Raine. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

“What have we got today?” Hayley asked Raine as she poured sugar on her porridge.

“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Raine. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them — we’ll be able to see if it’s true.”

“Wish McGonagall favored us,” said Hayley. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn’t stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Hayley had gotten used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn’t brought Hayley anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble her ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Hayley’s plate. Hayley tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Hayley,

I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?

I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Hayley borrowed Raine’s quill, scribbled Yes, please, see you later on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.

It was lucky that Hayley had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to her so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, Hayley had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked her. By the end of the first Potions lesson, she knew she’d been wrong. Snape didn’t dislike Hayley — he hated her.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Hayley’s name.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, “Hayley Potter. Our new — celebrity.”

Druella Malfoy and her friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid’s, but they had none of Hagrid’s warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as lazy and braindead as the students I usually have to teach.”

More silence followed this little speech. Hayley and Raine exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn’t lazy or braindead.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Hayley glanced at Raine, who looked as stumped as she was; Hermione’s hand had shot into the air.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Hayley.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer.

“Tut, tut — fame clearly isn’t everything.”

He ignored Hermione’s hand.

“Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Hayley didn’t have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. She tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

Hayley forced herself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. She had looked through her books at the Dursleys’, but did Snape expect her to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?

Snape was still ignoring Hermione’s quivering hand.

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

“I don’t know,” said Hayley quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”

A few people laughed; Hayley caught Seamus’s eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

“Sit down,” he snapped at Hermione. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, “And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter.”

Things didn’t improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idiot boy!” snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

“Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Hayley and Raine, who had been working next to Neville.

“You — Potter — why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

This was so unfair that Hayley opened her mouth to argue, but Raine kicked her behind their cauldron.

“Don’t push it,” they muttered, “I’ve heard Snape can turn very nasty.”

As the two climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Hayley’s mind was racing and her spirits were low. She’d lost two points for Gryffindor in her very first week — why did Snape hate her so much?

“Cheer up,” said Raine, “Snape’s always taking points off Frankie and Glory. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?”

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Hayley knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid’s voice rang out, saying, “Back, Fang — back.”

Hagrid’s big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

“Hang on,” he said. “Back, Fang.”

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

“Make yerselves at home,” said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Raine and started licking their ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

“This is Raine,” Hayley told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

“Another Weasley, eh?” said Hagrid, glancing at Raine’s freckles. “I spent half me life chasin’ yer twin sisters away from the forest.”

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Hayley and Raine pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Hayley’s knee and drooled all over her skirt.

Hayley and Raine were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch “that old git’’

“An’ as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her — Filch puts her up to it.”

Hayley told Hagrid about Snape’s lesson. Hagrid, like Raine, told Hayley not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

“But he seemed to really hate me.”

“Rubbish!” said Hagrid. “Why should he?”

Yet Hayley couldn’t help thinking that Hagrid didn’t quite meet her eyes when he said that.

“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Raine. “I liked him a lot — great with animals.”

Hayley wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Raine told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, Hayley picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

“But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,” said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Hayley remembered Raine telling her on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Raine hadn’t mentioned the date.

“Hagrid!” said Hayley, “that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might’ve been happening while we were there!”

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn’t meet Hayley’s eyes this time. He grunted and offered her another rock cake. Hayley read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As Hayley and Raine walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they’d been too polite to refuse, Hayley thought that none of the lessons she’d had so far had given her as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn’t want to tell Hayley?

#Harry Potter #Hayley Potter #Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone #Hayley Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone #Sorcerer's Stone #HPatSS #Lesbiansafe #lesbian rewrite #lesbian rewrites #lesbian rewrite project #lesbian rewrites project #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqa #lgbtqap #lesbian #gay #wlw

1 note · View note

bewarethebasement · 6 years ago

Text

On Teaching High School Students

Rae Rival

I started teaching Creative Writing at the Philippine High School for the Arts (PHSA) in 2012. Before PHSA, I was a grade school teacher and an educational materials writer. I was also an active member of Linangan sa Imahen, Retorika at Anyo (LIRA). The approaches that I used to teach poetry came from my training as a LIRA fellow and member.

There was no manual for teaching creative writing to high school students. It was usually offered as a course in college. Arts classes at PHSA ran for four hours a day every afternoon. My former references include creative writing syllabi from universities, my handouts from college and books written by Virgilio Almario such as Sansiglong Mahigit ng Makabagong Tula sa Filipinas, Panitikang Pambata sa Filipinas, Pag-unawa sa Ating Pagtula: Pagsusuri at Kasaysayan ng Panulaang Filipino, Maikling Kwento sa Filipinas, etc. Photocopying parts of novels, collections of poems and short stories both by local and foreign authors became part of my daily routine. I taught the elements of poetry and fiction and used Literature and Its Writers by Samuel Charters and similar books as guides.

Aside from delivering lectures, I usually come up with “fun” writing exercises or attempts at game-based learning. This year, with PHSA’s calendar shift from June - March to August - May, came the return of the bundy clock. As public school teachers (PHSA being an attached agency of the Department of Education), we sign a contract that requires us to report for 40 hours a week. The Daily Time Record (DTR) form was replaced with a time card, and we were to punch in and out every day. A flexi time was allowed but the options were usually to spend 11 hours a day for 4 days or 9 hours a day for 5 days. It was actually 44 hours if you count the hour-long lunch break.

As arts practitioners, one might find this setup suffocating. PHSA does not really require their arts teachers to practice (it is just a small point for professional growth in the Individual Performance Commitment and Review Form). There are no programs to address this need and during meetings, teachers have to justify and defend the need for practice. Our directors, however, are very open to proposals and approve requests to attend lectures, facilitate workshops, join group shows, engage in activities that are related to our field. But as a general school policy, PHSA teachers are just technically, civil servants who need to complete 40 hours preferably in the workplace. In fact, an approved travel means leaving your students behind. They are left to study on their own when their teacher is away. If this is often done, students’ development may be compromised.

Yet, with the 40-hour work week, how can one practice? The only viable solution is that one may try practicing within the 40-hours, within the premises of the school. That is not always possible for theater actors or theater arts practitioners who need to be part of a production. For writers, it seems plausible (though progressive writers need to be more engaged, need to embed themselves in a community or struggle thus, also has field work). Interdisciplinary artists who weave writing with other forms of art may also need to go beyond finishing a novel or a collection of literary works (and not all writers can do this in front of their faculty tables or computers). If we are to compartmentalize arts practitioners: visual artists need a studio space, and musicians and dancers need to rehearse on their own or with an orchestra or a dance company. Practicing our art in the morning, before the afternoon arts classes begin, is not something that is openly-discussed or even encouraged. We are usually given committee work and mornings are spent doing clerical work, lesson plans, and other duties. Plus, the fact that you have to earn a License (completing 18 units of education first) in order to be a tenured faculty and finisha Master’s degree if you wish to be promoted. With all these requirements, there is no room for art, really.

Initially, PHSA teachers were given dormitories or cottages hence, the term “resident arts teachers.” They were literally residing and living with the students. They were open for consultation after class hours. Until now, music, dance and theater arts students rehearse until 9 or 10 PM with their teachers. Back then, former resident teachers who were married brought their owns kids to the cottages as it was similar to housing privileges.

With the number of students multiplying (the school was initially created for 1st - 4th year high school, now it has to accommodate Grade 7 - Grade 12 students), PHSA dormitories can no longer accommodate teachers. What our school needs is a feasible, scientific, and child-friendly boarding school curriculum. Some resident arts teachers even go beyond the 40 hours and if they are provided with housing/dormitories, they even stay during weekends to train students. A boarding school curriculum will create programs for students that will help them organize and manage their time after class hours. A boarding school curriculum will also provide programs for art practitioners—the resident arts teachers. This will also set clear parameters for the teachers, clarifying our responsibilities as mentors of children and teenagers residing in Mt. Makiling.

This brings me back to my initial and final concern for writing this essay, what PHSA students need are high school teachers. In my short stay in Mt. Makiling, I have applied different approaches to teaching creative writing. As I have mentioned, my training was limited to my college degree and LIRA (which has a highly-academic program for their fellows, they even tried creating an advanced/ Master’s program for their older members to help them continue honing and practicing their craft). This does not really work for kids as young as 11 years old. My 1st year high school students, we call them Grade 7 now, come here fresh from their elementary schools. Even if they like writing, some of them come here intimidated or with an initial fear for discussing poems. As Edward Hirsch wrote in his essay “How to Read a Poem”, the three misconceptions readers have are: (1) the need to understand what the poem means on the first encounter, (2) the poem is a kind of code, unless they have cracked the code, they missed the point, and (3) the poem can mean anything they want it to mean. That fear is intensified with approaches that are very strict or inaccessible for children and adolescents. I have students from Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao who have never heard of writers from the literary canon, whose idea of poetry is that it must have end rhymes. They have to unlearn a lot of misconceptions, a lot of habits.

We hire acclaimed, award-winning writers to mentor our students but not all writers can teach. We also hire college professors to teach part-time here but not all great college professors can be great high school teachers. That is one of the many realities here in Mt. Makiling, aside from the fact that this is a boarding school, not an ordinary school where you can simply deliver a lecture and leave your students. You have to come up with high school-friendly activities and guide them because, well, they are very young. They are given extraordinary responsibilities like producing an entire book, representing the country to international festivals, and conducting workshops to fellow high school students. They get invitations to perform, engage and participate in different arts-related activities all over the country. They are scholars and our task is to guide them well.

“Dapat masanay sila. Paano sila masasanay?” To me, the need to “grill” their works so they can be ready for creative writing workshops is quite complicated. We need to come up with approaches that are appropriate for high school students; we need to be nurturing and socially relevant. Every year is another challenge (a new school year brings in new digital natives with diverse skills and needs). We can guide them to be critical and compassionate. One of the things that I challenge in my class is the practice of workshopping literary works. The challenge has to be thrown to the critic or the high school teacher, how can you deliver this to an 11-year-old or even a 16-year-old?

___

Aside from teaching, Rae Rival helps run Gantala Press, a feminist, literary press. Her poems, short stories and essays have appeared in various publications. "Press Release" (a chapbook of poems) and "Halimaw" (part of Sigwa: Climate Fiction Anthology) are two of her most recent works.

Gantala Press

facebook.com/gantalapress

instagram.com/gantalapress

#bewarethebasement #issue02 #thebasement #nov2018

1 note · View note

readbookywooks · 8 years ago

Text

The Potions Master

There, look."　　

"Where?"　　

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."　　

"Wearing the glasses?"　　

"Did you see his face?"　　

"Did you see his scar?"　　

Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Harry wished they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.　　

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was sure the coats of armor could walk.　　

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"　　

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.　　

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.　　

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.　　

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.　　

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of booksto see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.　　

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.　　

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."　　

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.　　

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.　　

Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.　　

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.　　

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.　　

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them -- we'll be able to see if it's true."　　

"Wish McGonagall favored us, " said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.　　

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.　　

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:　　

Dear Harry,　　

I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?　　

I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.　　

Hagrid　　

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled Yes, please, see you later on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.　　

It was lucky that Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.　　

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry -- he hated him.　　

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.　　

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new -- celebrity."　　

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.　　

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word -- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had y caught every word -- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."　　

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.　　

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"　　

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air.　　

"I don't know, sit," said Harry.　　

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.　　

"Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything."　　

He ignored Hermione's hand.　　

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"　　

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.　　

"I don't know, sit." "Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?　　

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.　　

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"　　

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.　　

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"　　

A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.　　

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"　　

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."　　

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.　　

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"　　

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.　　

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.　　

"You -- Potter -- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."　　

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.　　

"Don’t push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."　　

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week -- why did Snape hate him so much? "Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"　　

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang -- back."　　

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.　　

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."　　

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.　　

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.　　

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.　　

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.　　

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."　　

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first -lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.　　

Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."　　

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her -- Fitch puts her up to it."　　

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.　　

"But he seemed to really hate me."　　

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"　　

Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.　　

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot -- great with animals."　　

Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:　　

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST　　

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.　　

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.　　

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.　　Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.　　

"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"　　

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?　　

As Harry and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Harry thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry?

#PhilosophersStone #HarryPotter #SorcerersStone #books

0 notes