#the Hexley Legacy

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 32

A/N: a bonus chapter this week in honour of Héloïse’s birthday, and to continue on from yesterday’s mess…

OCs featured/mentioned: Ivy Anders, Shiv Llewelyn, Brady Pendleton @kc-and-co, Gwen Archeron, Adelia Selwyn @thatravenpuffwitch, Henry Lovecraft, Carolyn Nyberg, Selene Fraser @lifeofkaze, Lysander Mercury @slytherindisaster, Maxwell Pembroke @unfortunate-arrow

Warnings: more of the idiots, this time they’re being cute.

February 1897

Now that she had been at Hogwarts long enough to have made friends, Héloïse’s birthday was shaping up to be far better than the year before. The festivities had started at precisely midnight, with Gwen and Siobhan staying up long into the early hours to celebrate with her, and once they awoke at sunrise, they had warmed themselves against the cold February morning with hot chocolate whilst Héloïse opened the small flurry of gifts and letters from her grandmother and other friends.

“Look like someone else has something for you,” whispered Gwen, nodding her head in the direction of the entrance. Héloïse looked up from the book of folktales she had been given by Henry and followed Glen’s line of sight to see that Jim Hexley was making his way towards them, the corner of an envelope poking out of his breast pocket.

Héloïse’s heart gave a small flutter. She had not even told Jim that it was her birthday, but it appeared that he had discovered the fact himself, and gone to the effort of finding or making a card or small gift for her. The very idea of the gesture made her lips curve upwards, but as she directed her smile at Jim himself, he stopped abruptly in his path, jerked his head, and turned and sped away, leaving the Great Hall entirely.

“Oh,” said Héloïse, her smile faltering and chest tightening. Shiv and Gwen both exchanged looks of confusion and concern.

“What a strange man,” Shiv muttered. “Matilda, are you-”

“I am alright.”

“Are you sure? You seem-”

“I have said this already, no?” Héloïse said, sharper than she had intended. She took a breath and returned to her book. “I am content.”

This was, of course, untrue. She had been perfectly content until several moments earlier, but now she was confused, disappointed, and more than anything, frustrated. After all, she had been having a perfectly wonderful birthday until a few moments previously. She had several friends to celebrate with, why was she so upset over just one of them not joining in?

Still, Shiv and Gwen did not push the matter, and so they spent the rest of breakfast quietly drinking hot chocolate and tea, until they were joined by a rather windswept-looking Ivy Anders, who took the seat next to Gwen with her wide eyes fixed on the pile of gifts in the centre of the table.

“Oh my,” she said breathlessly. “Someone has a lot of admirers!”

Shiv wrinkled her nose. “What are you havering about?”

“The gifts, of course. It is Saint Valentine’s Day, after all.”

“Aye, but these aren’t Valentines. They’re for Matilda’s birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” Ivy turned to Héloïse, who nodded her head silently. Ivy beamed at her. “Many happy returns. Are you having a party?”

“I do not think so, no.”

“Well, that simply will not do. We shall have a tea party later. Greenhouse One at three o’clock? I’ll prepare the refreshments. What sort of cakes are your favourite?”

The look in Ivy’s eyes was earnest, and when Héloïse looked at Gwen and Shiv, they were already nodding their heads in agreement. Héloïse sighed. She had never really liked parties, but she did not want to be ungrateful, either.

“Chocolate,” she told Ivy. “If it pleases you.”

And so, just before three o’clock, the Ravenclaw girls bundled themselves in cloaks and scarves and made their way down to the greenhouses. Inside the first one, several banners had been strung up across the large windows and between the plants, and the workbenches had been cleared of plant pots and soil to make way for several large plates of sandwiches, cakes, and pastries. Héloïse’s eyes widened. She had not expected Ivy to have arranged quite so much in the space of only a few hours.

Héloïse found herself enjoying the party far more than she had expected, too. It was as if Ivy had known that she did not like large crowds, as the group of students gathered in the greenhouse was relatively small, mainly consisting of the other Ravenclaw girls, Henry Lovecraft, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, Bradford Pendleton, the girls from Adelia and Carolyn’s dormitory, and Jim’s sister Ethel Hexley and her friend Selene. There was only one person not in attendance who Héloïse would have liked to have been there, and that was Jim himself.

“I am afraid that I haven’t the foggiest where my brother is,” Ethel told her, unprompted and through a mouthful of scone. “I expect that he is off sulking somewhere. But really, it is no loss. He is a frightful bore at parties, even more so than the rest of the time. I hope that you are not too disappointed. I should not be if I were you.”

With that, Ethel stuffed the rest of the scone in her mouth and left to have an argument with Lysander Mercury, leaving Héloïse alone, and quite disappointed. Perhaps Jim had not known that morning that it was her birthday, but surely he must have known by now? Ivy was his cousin, and Ethel was here, and Lysander and Maxwell, so why was he not?

Several pots of tea later, the sandwich supply had dwindled, and still there was no sign of Jim Hexley. With each passing minute, Héloïse’s sense of disappointment grew, until, with the sun setting and less than half an hour before the party was due to finish, the door of the greenhouse swung open, and Jim stepped inside, his cheeks flushed pink, fingers gripping the lapels of his coat, and eyes fixed on his shoes.

“Jimmy, you made it!” Ivy exclaimed, picking up a pastry and rushing towards him. “Here, you must try one of these. It’s a pain au chocolat."

Ivy rose onto her tiptoes to mutter something to Jim as she handed him the plate of pastry, and Héloïse averted her eyes. It was strange, but although she had been upset at Jim’s absence and had felt a swelling sensation in her chest at his arrival, this was now giving way to a deep annoyance at his lateness, which she decided to show by stubbornly refusing to talk to him now that he was present.

The party finished without her saying a single word to Jim. Once it was over, however, she stayed to help Ivy tidy up the plates and teacups, and left the greenhouse only to find him waiting outside.

“Sorry, I… I did not wish to give you a fright,” said Jim. Héloïse pursed her lips tightly and said nothing in response. He cleared his throat. “I, um… Happy birthday.”

Héloïse exhaled through her nose before answering, “Thank you.”

“I… I am sorry that I did not wish… that I did not say anything to you earlier today. I did not know that it was your birthday, I thought… Well, I would have said if I had known.”

“Oh,” said Héloïse.

“And I am sorry for my… that I was late to your party,” Jim continued. “I, um, had to… I did not wish to arrive empty-handed. I, er, wanted to get you a gift.”

He reached inside his coat, and pulled out a scroll of pale parchment tied with brown string. Héloïse frowned.

“This is for me?”

“Yes. I am sorry that it is not… Well, it is the best that I could do at short notice. I am afraid that it is not much of a present. It is not framed, but I can always get a frame later if you would like. You may not want one, though, because it is not all that good...”

Héloïse unscrolled the parchment, her eyebrows still furrowed. As it rolled open, it revealed a pencil sketch of a girl with dark hair tumbling over her shoulder in graceful curls, deep concentration etched into her dainty facial features, and dark, curious eyes. The portrait did not move like the ones on the walls at Hogwarts, but every now and then, it seemed that the girl in the drawing’s hair lifted slightly, as if moved by a gentle breeze, and her eyes seemed to sparkle as if they had caught in the light.

“Not so good?” said Héloïse, incredulous. “Jim, this is more than good. It is…” She tilted her head. “Is this me? This girl in the picture?”

Jim nodded. “Yes. It is supposed to be you, anyway. I, er, did not quite manage to capture… The likeness, it is not quite perfect. Something about it - I don’t know what - is, um, not quite right, I know.”

“No. This is not it,” Héloïse shook her head. “I can see that this is me, but…”

“But?”

“But you have made me look beautiful.”

“That’s because you are beautiful.”

Héloïse looked up at Jim, unable to hold back a smile. He had not stuttered at all, and for one single moment that seemed to last an eternity, he held her gaze unwaveringly, his face passive and the look in his eyes sincere.

She felt herself start to blush, and in that moment, the world - like her cheeks - seemed to glow in the hues of soft roses, just as beautiful as she was in the picture Jim had drawn of her.

[lifeofkaze]

Flight or Fancy

A/N: This story was written for the April prompt of the @hp-12monthsofmagic challenge. Ethel Hexley and Madam Khanna (in mention) belong to @the-al-chemist, Lysander Mercury to @slytherindisaster, Ema McGilliguddy (in mention) and Professor MacMillan to @kc-and-co

It had all started very harmlessly, really. 

Like most of their peers, Selene and Ethel had spent their afternoon in the library, preparing for their end-of-year exams. They had worked hard on their studies, so that after several hours of revising Transfiguration laws, incantations, and Potion recipes, Ethel had suggested they take the well-deserved break they were obviously due.

To give their plagued minds some respite, the two aspiring young witches had found their way to the poetry section of the library and were soon immersed in their favourite works. Their vigour renewed, they carried their pickings back to their table, reciting poignant passages back to one another as they went. 

Ethel was of the strong opinion that poetry wasn’t something to be merely read - it was something to be experienced. So when a particularly riveting stanza gripped her, she and Selene climbed upon the long table running between the bookshelves, marching back and forth with books in hand and calling their partly bewildered, partly resigned-looking fellow students to rise in the fight against oppression and tyranny. 

Madam Khanna, the librarian, evidently didn’t share their enthusiasm.

Some angry remarks, an outraged discussion, and two temporary library bans later, Ethel and Selene had found themselves equipped with weekly detention until the end of term, which was exactly where the two of them were currently spending their time.

With the impending exams, the temper in the student body had run high lately, so the classroom where detention was held was fuller than usual. Sighing, Ethel looked gloomily at the half-filled parchment in front of her.

‘I shalt not recite poetry whilst marching upon furniture. I shalt not call my peers to revolution. I shalt not call any member of the staff an operative of an oppressive system,’ stood there in neat lines, just as it did on the stack of parchment next to her. Ethel snorted to herself. As if she had done anything condemnable. What harm had she done, even? Wasn’t it the point of school to equip themselves with the means to scrutinise established truths? They really should make up their minds about this and not let her suffer the effects of their inconsistencies.

Looking up, she caught the eye of Selene, who had been several tables away from Ethel. They had shared a seat in the beginning, like they were wont to do, but Professor Ronen, the Charms teacher overseeing their detention, had soon put a stop to that and created as much space between the two friends as the room would allow; another thing Ethel thought simply outrageous.

The busy scratching of quills on parchment was broken when the door to the classroom swung open, and Professor Hecat, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, poked her head inside. Professor Ronen immediately rose from his seat to meet her. A few subdued words were passed between them, then Ronen turned and pointed at Selene and a girl with light brown hair, big eyes, and emerald green robes.

“Misses Fraser and McGilliguddy, you are to help Professor Hecat prepare her lessons. You are dismissed.”

Giving Ethel an apologetic look, Selene gathered up her things and followed Ema McGilliguddy and Professor Hecat from the room. Ethel watched after them with dismay. She and Selene had wanted to head for the Quidditch pitch for some broom racing after detention, but helping the old witch would take forever. 

Her plans for the rest of the day thwarted for good, Ethel quietly huffed, dipping her quill into her inkwell with more force than strictly necessary. Everything about this was so entirely unfair.

“Hexley.”

Ethel stiffened. Just what she needed right now.

“Hexley.”

Ethel gritted her teeth, stubbornly adding another line to her steadily filling page. 

“Hey, Hexley!”

“I can’t hear you, Lysander,” she muttered, the slight lilt to her voice doing nothing to mask her annoyance. 

“With those ears of yours? Improbable.”

“What do you want?” Ethel growled, turning sharply in her seat to glower at the grinning boy behind her. Before Lysander Mercury could reply, however, the sound of Professor Ronen clearing his throat echoed through the classroom. 

“Does there seem to be a problem, Miss Hexley?”

“No, Professor,” Ethel said, glaring at Lysander one last time before turning in her seat again. “Everything’s in perfect order.” 

Giving her a warning look, Professor Ronen turned back to his exam papers. 

“As subtle as an Erumpent in a china shop,” Lysander’s amused snicker reached Ethel’s ear a moment later. “And about as elegant.”

“And about as effective at crushing you. Care to let me try?”

“You’d have to catch me first. They do say I’m quite swift.”

“What the mind lacks…”

“Enough to beat you on the pitch, though.”

“Sure, by cheating.”

“Not what the referee said.”

“Oh, go stick a quill up your nose.”

“How witty.”

“I’m done having this conversation,” Ethel declared, making to turn back around. She stopped when Lysander leaned across his table toward her.

“You don’t want to know my secret, then?”

“Is it about how to grow yourself a brain?”

“Why, are you in need of one?”

Ethel rolled her eyes. “Just tell me already and let me enjoy my detention in peace.”

Smirking, Lysander leaned back in his seat.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to tell you anymore.”

Ethel opened her mouth in outrage. “You cannot be serious.”

“I can assure you that I am.”

“Then I, in turn, can assure you that I do not care,” Ethel answered stuffily, returning her attention to her parchment. She paused, turning back to Lysander a moment later.

“You know it’s incredibly impolite to vex me so.”

“So you do care.” 

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“Yes, it absolutely is.”

Lysander’s grin was wiped off his face when Ethel drew her wand and pointed it at his inkwell. It rose above the drawing Lysander had been working on instead of doing lines, slowly tipping to the side.

“You don’t want to do that, Hexley.”

“I most certainly do.” 

Ethel could see the cogs turning in Lysander’s probably rather dusty brain as he attempted to take her measure. Having come to a conclusion, he leaned in and conspiratorially whispered:

“Fine, I’ll tell you. I know how to get out of here.”

Ethel stared. “How?” 

Lysander looked like a Kneazle before a bowl of cream. “You’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?”

“Evidently. Your idiotic plans never fail to amuse me.”

“It’s not idiotic, it’s infallible.”

“Naturally.”

“So, do you want to know or not?”

Ethel felt like a headache was coming. “I do.” 

A self-contented sigh left Lysander’s lips. “What do I get for telling you?”

The inkwell floated a little higher. “Not this against your forehead.”

“Not a very appealing offer.”

“Because it wasn’t an offer. Tell me now, or leave me alone.”

“Very well.” His eyes - today of a distinct turquoise colour - sparkled as he leaned a little closer. “Do what you do best - watch me.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Lysander drew his wand and pointed it at the teacher’s desk. His lips moving in a silent incantation, the stacks of paperwork on Professor Ronen’s desk exploded up towards the ceiling, dancing in a vortex around him on their way down.

The classroom erupted in laughter, and even Ethel couldn’t help but bite back a chuckle at the sight of the red-cheeked professor trying to snatch his elusive exam papers from the air. When she turned in her seat to say something to Lysander, however, she found that he had disappeared.

Her brows drew together in a frown. It was just like Lysander to promise her a way out and then leave her behind without so much as a word. Much to her astonishment, there was a small but distinct sting of something that felt almost like disappointment.

Just as Professor Ronen had gathered his scrolls of parchment and righted his hat, the classroom door opened once more. This time, the red-haired head of Professor MacMillan, one of the Herbology teachers and head of Ravenclaw House, appeared in the doorway. 

“Abraham, I will need to abduct Miss Hexley,” the teacher smiled good-heartedly. “There appear to be some pests in Greenhouse Two. They are making the worst clamour with my pots. I need Miss Hexley’s excellent hearing abilities to identify their whereabouts.” 

Where Ethel had been astounded to hear Professor MacMillan request her assistance before, she now bit down on her lip hard. She stiffly rose from her seat, handed her parchment to Professor Ronen and stalked from the room.

“A pest problem, really?” she snorted as soon as the door had closed behind her.

Professor MacMillan, whose eyes had begun turning from greyish-blue to turquoise again, grinned. 

“It’s intense. I swear, their presence seems to have intensified this very second.” 

Ethel took a deep breath. “I will have you know that -”

She came no further because, from within the classroom, an angry cry could be heard.

“Hexley! Mercury!”

Lysander, whose once more fair hair still carried streaks of red, swallowed.

“Uh oh,” he said, laughing as he ducked his head. “Time to go, Hexley.”

Before Ethel could object, Lysander grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her behind him and away from the classroom door in which Professor Ronen had appeared. Ethel didn’t hear what he was calling after them anymore, her ears filled with the pounding of hers and Lysander’s steps on the ancient flagstone floor. 

It took them about the time they needed to round two corners before their flight turned into a race. Ethel and Lysander were almost of a height, and Ethel glanced at him only briefly as she sped up to overtake him. Lysander did the same, trying to push her to the side as they skirted around corners and almost jumped down steps and stairs in vast, uncontrolled strides.

Soon, both of them were breathing heavily, and by the time they reached a spiral staircase that led both down into the dungeons and up in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, parts of Ethel’s hair had come undone, and Lysander’s cheeks were flushed a vivid red.

“You… lost… Hexley,” he panted, supporting his weight on his legs with his hands. The way he smirked at her through the strands of hair that had fallen into his face made Ethel jut her chin forward, even though her sides were stinging so badly she could hardly stand.

“You know what… they say… Mercury,” she said between two gulps of aid. “The last… shall be… first.”

“At least that way… you’ll win at least… this once.”

Ethel pushed herself off the wall she had been resting against, smoothing down the skirt of her uniform and glaring at Lysander. They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them so much as blinking. Then, Lysander ran a hand over his tousled hair before holding it out to Ethel.

“Well, that was fun.”

Ethel looked at his outstretched hand with a mixture of wariness and disgust.

“It absolutely wasn’t.”

“Just say ‘thank you’. It’s not that hard.”

“For what?” said Ethel stubbornly. “For dragging me around the castle without my consent?”

Lysander narrowed his eyes. “You’re insufferable, Hexley.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Just so you’re aware - me helping you, that was a one-off.”

“It’d better was.”

Shrugging, Lysander turned to go. As he set foot onto the steps leading into the bowels of the castle, he looked over his shoulder.

“So, until next time?”

Rolling her eyes, Ethel turned in the opposite direction and stomped away. She was almost out of sight when she paused and looked back at Lysander, who stood exactly where she had left him.

“Until next time.”

[usernoneexistent]

Autumn 1895: Ravenclaws and Gryffindors play a friendly game together while Glenn plots on how to distract the opposing team's keeper and his rival, Nolan.

Characters featured: Nolan Miller @hogwartsmysteryho, Oliver Gerard @kc-and-co, Ethel Hexley @the-al-chemist.

Characters mentioned: Selene Fraser @lifeofkaze, Lysander Mercury @slytherindisaster, Daniel Gibson @catohphm, Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-and-co.

Warnings: mentions of Sethel

"That was a foul!"

"Not again, Miller," cried his teammate. Ravenclaw looked like they were having a tough time with their reserve keeper. Glenn minded little, except for Nolan Miller's incompetence which was getting on his nerves. He wanted a nice clean, and fair game, which shouldn't be a hard ask. Especially since Hexley and Fraser made the least amount of trouble on the quidditch field.

As all the quidditch teams have completed their tryouts and added new members to make up for the lost ones, his friend and captain, Oliver Gerard, made a deal with Ravenclaw to share the pitch for a quidditch friendly due to an accidental mishandling of the reservations. It allowed the reserves to keep up with the practice.

"He wasn't haversaking Miller. Sorry guys, let's have a rematch." The Ravenclaw captain called with the quaffle under his arm, returning it back to the referee. He was getting all the different balls back in the box before re-releasing them.

Both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw team groaned out loud before flying back into their respective position.

"Augh! I wish Miller wouldn't spoil the game so much. He's worse than Lys and Hexley." Glenn groaned.

"Miller may be annoying but he is also their weakest link, Rosewood." Oliver flew beside him. "Besides you know how to get to him fumble better than anyone else."

"Well, he is only a reserve. It's not like he will affect the big matches."

"And so are you." Oliver retorted back, almost in a backhanded way. Glenn groaned at him before focusing back on the game.

"As much as I would love to give my sole attention on quidditch I have other duties to attend to."

"Ah yes, becoming the number one prefect that Gryffindor has ever seen. You're doing a great job at that." He teased.

"Be quiet, Gerard."

Oliver laughed before everyone was finally settled and ready to go. The referee opens the box of quaffle, bludgers and snitch, and the opposing team grabs the quaffle first.

Oliver and Glenn swerved to either side of the chaser, trying to hold her in. Hexley followed behind, blocking the other Ravenclaw chasers.

"Scatter!" Hexley yelled. Glenn took a quick glance to see why. A bludger was incoming at a rapid speed. There was no way that any beater could come in time to defend the chasers.

Glenn and Oliver abandoned the chaser. The bludger came at lightning speed before almost knocking the Ravenclaw chaser down. He dropped the quaffle just as Glenn had hoped.

Hexley was sharper and quickly swooped down to grab the quaffle before any of the Ravenclaw chasers had a chance. She shot straight towards the hoops, already crossing the midline of the pitch.

Glenn and Oliver followed quickly behind. Fraser and Daniel Gibson were in a chase below them for the snitch. Glenn was hoping they would stall a little more. It would be annoying to end the game so quickly without even putting in a score.

"Rosewood!" Hexley yelled as Glenn got close. He saw it too. Siobhan Llewelyn was ready to swing the bludger towards Hexley's broom with her stick, and he knew what she wanted to do. Oliver swooped in and blocked any other chasers interrupting her pass.

With a good throw, the quaffle landed heavily on his hand before almost dropping the ball. He groaned slightly in pain when he saw Hexley give a slight smirk. 

Nolan looked ready, prepared for Glenn to come. He swerved about, trying to cover all the hoops.

"I would take a heads up if I were you," Glenn warned, but Nolan smirked.

"I'm not falling for it this time, Rosewood." He shifted lower to block the bottom hoops.

Perfect.

Glenn made his arm look like it was going to throw down, but at the last second, he made an overarm throw at the tallest loop.

Nolan swiftly moved his broom up, but it was too late. The quaffle smoothly sailed through the hoop.

"That's ten points to Gryffindor." The commentator stated.

Glenn smirked broadly at Miller. The Ravenclaw pretended not to be shocked by Glenn's tactic and muttered excuses about why it wasn't his fault.

"Well done, Rosewood." Oliver complimented. "Figure you would be able to fool Miller."

"He's a fool." He said. "Which is a shame. If his incompetnece weren't in the way the game would be more interesting."

[endlessly-cursed]

Primrose Gray's Legacy: Update & Changes

I know, I know, I haven't updated in a while, but let me explain!!

As many of you know, last year I decided to put into words Primrose's story, and I had initially followed @the-al-chemist 's example of her Hexley Saga, but the many years and things to cover overwhelmed me and this year I have been thinking of how to take off some weight off my back... And found it! By reducing eight books to four, each of them covering several years.

Primrose Gray's Legacy, Book One: The Younger Years

Primrose is a young lady from a powerful and well-liked family who, after a set of tragedies, are determined to thrive in an era where the nobility is losing the power they've witheld for centuries. It all changes when Hogwarts calls her to study into their magical halls. During her first three years, she'll explore the last shreds of infancy, first crushes and a few clashes with the real world.

Primrose Gray's Legacy, Book Two: Becoming Primrose

Flourishing into a woman in a society like Primrose's is not easy. Her body starts shaping and growing, the lords of the court start taking interest in her despite being promised to another, and starts discovering what she needs and lacks in her life. Not to mention, she starts getting a grasp on the realities and dangers of the wizarding world...

Primrose Gray's Legacy, Book Three: Third of Her Name

As Primrose finishes her last year in Hogwarts, tragedy strikes Primrose, making her innocence fall completely, and Primrose will never be the same after the events that are waiting for her. As she prepares to assume the head of Winbourne, she'll discover who's on her side and who dares oppose her.

Primrose Gray's Legacy, Book Four: The Golden Years

Set a decade after the last events of her early adulthood, Primrose has long married the love of her life and formed her family. But the world is changing fast, and war, political intrigues, and the realisation that her babies are becoming adults will make of Primrose another woman, one capable of anything for her family. This time, Primrose will have to arm herself to keep her children safe from harm, facing stronger foes. Thank Merlin that she's not alone in this.

I hope to update more often and that you guys like the new changes! Tagging now a few people who'd be interested:

@gaygryffindorgal @hphmmatthewluther @lifeofkaze @thatravenpuffwitch @nicos-oc-hell @camillejeaneshphm

[slytherindisaster]

web weaving: ethelys + rivals to lovers

twin size mattress by the front bottoms / true love by pink / the book of night women by marlon james / titanic (2017) / ao3 tags / little women (2017) / the cruel prince by holly black / red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston / harry potter and the order of the phoenix

[that-scouse-wizard]

Harry Potter Hogwarts Legacy Appreciation Week Day 6: The Boys.

Part 6 of @endlessly-cursed‘s event. 

Of course I’ve got my own boys, Reuben and Cled but here’s my love for the other lads of HPHL

Galen Stagg (@cursebreakerfarrier) - An unconventional Gryffindor though no less brave, I love his soft side and I’ve always been a fan of characters with animal-related powers.

Henry Lovecraft (@lifeofkaze) - As a guy who loves stories and to an extent enjoys Lovecraftian/ Gothic horror, I loved the idea of Henry being a storyteller and someone who weaves stories together. Plus his bromance with Cledwyn is one of my favourite friendships in HPHL.

Bradford Pendleton (@kc-and-co) - I love this guy’s determination to break away from his family’s rigid expectations of him and falling in love with the sarcastic queen that is Carolyn Nyberg. 

Jim Hexley (@the-al-chemist) - Another sweet boy and I love his exasperation in response to Ethel’s antics.

Danny Gibson (@catohphm) - One of Reuben’s best mates and quidditch team members. I love this guy going through so much in his life yet still choosing to be a decent bloke, he’s awesome!

[hogwartsmysteryho]

Hot Chocolate with Cinnamon

an adaption of the side plot of this episode of H2O: Just Add Water because i thought it kind of fit with these kids. repeat, this is not an original plot line, it is 100% based off of that episode. Ethel belongs to the wonderful @the-al-chemist and Selene belongs to the extraordinary @lifeofkaze, both of whom are the best thing since ice cream (which is a much better invention than sliced bread). actually, i just did a quick google search and it turns out that ice cream is way older than sliced bread, but u get the point. anyways, i hope u enjoy this story and hopefully i got ur girls ok, but lmk if they’re a little off.

Two best friends emerged from the Quidditch changing room after an especially grueling day of practice. Ethel Hexley was massaging her arms after several passing and shooting drills, whilst Selene Fraser flexed her fingers, as if still practicing catching the Golden Snitch.

“Gryffindor shall be in top condition upon the beginning of our season,” Selene said to her friend.

“The other houses certainly have reason to worry,” Ethel agreed. “Especially when Gryffindor has the two of us rostered.”

The girls giggled together for a few seconds before they were approached by a boy with red robes and a smile stretching ear to ear. “Brilliant practice! I can hardly wait for Gryffindor to dominate the other teams this year!”

“Thank you, Vinny,” Ethel replied. “Did you watch the whole practice?”

“Of course! You know I always love to watch your practices when I can,” the boy, Vinny Raymond, said happily as the three began walking back towards the school together. “I don’t know very much about Quidditch strategy or training, but your practice definitely looked quite impressive.”

Vinny had barely gotten the sentence out before a tan Ravenclaw boy walking the opposite direction nearly ran him over.

“Walk much?” the Ravenclaw sneered as he plowed past the curly-haired boy.

Ethel and Selene both prepared to retort back at the Ravenclaw but Vinny was calling a “sorry, Nolan” over his shoulder before either had the chance.

Something caught Vinny’s attention in the distance and he hastily said to the girls, “My apologies, but I have to go right now. Great practice, both of you,” and scampered off. Knowing Vinny, he had probably spotted a butterfly or somebody’s pet cat and was now chasing after it.

“I simply cannot believe that he actually apologized for being rammed into,” Selene said, perplexed, after Vinny had departed.

Ethel shrugged at her friend. “It takes more than being trampled to make Vinny mad, I suppose.”

“I don’t think that anything can make Vinny mad,” Selene responded. “I haven’t seen him anything short of exceedingly happy once since our education at Hogwarts began.”

“Everyone gets mad sometimes,” Ethel reasoned. “I’m confident I could push his buttons enough to accomplish that deed.”

Selene snorted. “Even you couldn’t get a rise out of him.”

“Challenge accepted.”

***

It wasn’t long before the three Gryffindors sat together in the Great Hall. When Vinny was busy looking down at his copy of The Daily Prophet, Ethel winked at Selene and dropped her silverware on the ground next to him.

“Oh dear, clumsy me,” Ethel feigned. “Vinny, would you be a dear and pick my fork up for me?”

Vinny smiled and nodded before bending down to retrieve the fork. Meanwhile, Ethel grabbed an ice cube from her water and slipped it down the back of Vinny’s robes. Vinny immediately shot up in surprise, and his face began to grow red. Ethel smirked, satisfied. However, it was not anger that exploded from Vinny, but laughter. Selene immediately joined in, though she was amused more by Ethel’s failure than the prank itself. Eventually, Ethel had to laugh too. Her mission, however, was not forgotten.

***

Later that day, in the Gryffindor common room, Vinny was just finishing off his Potions essay, due as homework for class the next day. Ethel was sitting next to him, scheming.

“Vinny, dear,” Ethel said innocently. “Can I borrow your—whoops!”

Ethel slid her hand over and knocked the ink pot Vinny had been using over, spilling ink all over his essay.

“Oh dear,” said Ethel, dramatically. “Is it going to be okay?”

Vinny grinned up at her. “It’ll be fine,” he said as he tapped his wand on the parchment. Ink immediately started to clear up, making Vinny’s work readable once more. Vinny’s expression then changed from his usual excited-smile into a more reassuring-smile. “However, are you feeling okay? You’ve been a bit clumsier lately, are you perhaps overexerting yourself in Quidditch? I was reading an article in The Daily Prophet that said sometimes players’ nerves can get the best of them at the start of a new season.”

Ethel could hear the sound of poorly muffled laughter from an armchair containing one Selene Fraser. Ethel, however, would not give up so easily. “Actually, I have been feeling a little overwhelmed. I just have so much homework to do tomorrow, I’m not certain I’ll be able to do it all and wash my Quidditch robes before practice.”

“Well that’s it then!” Vinny beamed up at her. “I’ll wash your robes for you whilst you complete your homework.”

“Really?” said Ethel with mock surprise. “You would do that for me?”

“I sure would! I wonder how bad your robes will smell. I cannot wait to see!”

Of course he couldn’t wait.

***

“I cannot believe you’ve made him wash your Quidditch robes!” Selene said to Ethel as the two approached the training grounds.

Ethel bit her lip. “I need to kick my provocations up a level to get him mad.”

The girls had made it to Vinny, who was laying the freshly washed robes across a blanket (a Gryffindor blanket, of course). “Hello, Selene! Hello Ethel! I’ve just finished washing your robes, they ought to be dry before your practice.”

“Oh dear,” Ethel tutted, looking down at the washing tub Vinny had used. “Vinny, it seems you’ve completely botched the ratio of soap to water. There has to be at least another half part of soap in the mixture. You’ll have to redo it.”

“Alright, Ethel,” Selene interrupted. “This is going too far. It’s fine how it’s been washed now. It must’ve taken Vinny an hour to wash it.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Vinny said, his smile never wavering. “I’ll rewash it. I want to see if I can beat my time from last time!”

Selene sighed and Ethel gaped.

***

After another day of failed attempts, it was time for a Hogsmeade visit for the students of Hogwarts. Vinny and Selene grabbed a table at the Three Broomsticks while Ethel went to get some hot chocolates for the friends. It didn’t take too long for their drinks to be ready, and soon Ethel and Selene were happily sipping their delicious cocoa. Vinny, however, frowned at his mug.

“Ethel,” he started, his face growing angrier as he went on. “This, this has cinnamon in it! I-I… cinnamon? I hate cinnamon with hot chocolate! How many times have I- ugh! Go get a new one!”

Ethel was taken aback. “Vinny, are you okay?”

“Just- just get a new one right now!” Vinny was fuming now.

Ethel grabbed his mug and grinned at Selene. “Alright, Vinny, I’m sorry. No need to get so… mad.” She hurried away to get a new drink, a smug look on her face.

Vinny’s anger immediately melted back into his huge smile. “Was that alright?” he asked Selene eagerly.

“Perfect,” Selene replied. “I swear, she’s been driving me mad with her attempts. Thank you for acting for me.”

“I found it quite thrilling and fun actually!” Vinny paused for a moment, and then looked lopsided at Selene’s hot chocolate. “I suppose this means I can never have cinnamon with my hot chocolate ever again.”

Selene hesitated a moment, and then burst into laughter, Vinny soon echoing her.

“What?” Ethel said as she returned to the table, a new, cinnamon-less cocoa in her hand. “What’s so funny?”

“Just having a good time, with good friends,” Vinny said. And the three drank their hot chocolate, laughed, and had a good time.

i rly hope u liked it! i’m very sorry if i didn’t do ur girls justice, i just thought that the three of them might fit this plot line well, and i think they did! :)

[lifeofkaze]

Omg how who would l have thought Ethel could be so infuriatingly her precious self and so incredibly creepy at the same time?

As always, giving characters this eerie and slightly, bitter spin is something that’s so signature to you and this story. I doubt anybody else could do it like you.

The whole scene was deliciously scary but the best part?

“No one can hear you scream in a circus.”

Carnage Circus 🔥

Part 8/? - Let the games begin

Ethel Hexley belongs to the amazing @the-al-chemist. Akira in passing to the lovely @cursebreakerfarrier

Tag list: @lifeofkaze @kc-and-co @that-scouse-wizard @samshogwarts @hogwartsmysteryho

Weiterlesen

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 26

A/N: Ophelia works on her master plan in secret…

OCs featured/mentioned: Adelia Selwyn @thatravenpuffwitch, Marigold Sterling @that-scouse-wizard, Frederick Lavigne @slytherindisaster, Leila Hellebore @whatwouldvalerydo, Bradford Pendleton @kc-and-co, Carolyn Nyberg, Selene Fraser and Alan the ferret @lifeofkaze

Warnings: Animal exploitation and experimentation.

November 1896

As Ophelia left the Great Hall after dinner, she and the other girls from her dormitory were accosted by Ethel Hexley from Gryffindor House.

“What do you want, Hexley?” Caro asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Ethel held out a folded leaf of parchment, which neither Caro nor any of the other girls took from her. “What is that?”

“It’s a poster,” Ethel told her. “Selene and I were hoping that you might display it in the Slytherin Common Room for us.”

Caro exchanged glances with Adelia and Marigold, the latter of whom reached out and took the parchment from her. Frowning, she unfolded it to reveal a sketch of a weasel and the words: ‘Missing Ferret: Lost, Stolen, or Kidnapped. Partial to Cockroach Clusters and answers to the name Alan. Generous reward for safe return.’

“Now, wait one minute,” said Adelia, pursing her lips. “Isn’t this the ferret that the two of you transfigured into a lion and let loose in our changing tents after the Quidditch match last week?”

“Yes, the very same. Have you seen him?”

“Not since he chased Frederick Lavigne out from the tents in only his breeches,” Marigold sniggered. “Is he still a lion, or is he a ferret again now?”

“A ferret, obviously. Otherwise I’d have asked Jimmy to draw a lion on the poster, wouldn’t I?”

“You could try asking Leila Hellebore. She was the one who managed to stop him from terrorising the other players.”

Ophelia shuddered, remembering how Leila had made the lion cower by baring her demonic fangs and hissing at it. She might have felt sorry for the beast, if it hadn’t smelt quite so terrible.

“I already have asked Leila, and she hadn’t seen him, either,” Ethel sighed deeply. “Selene and I are positively bereft without him.”

“Then perhaps you should not have released him in such a manner,” said Caro, shortly. “Now, if you are quite finished, we must get on. Good evening, Miss Hexley.”

“Good luck finding your ferret.”

The girls left for the Great Hall and set off for the dungeons. Before they descended the staircase, however, Ophelia let out an anguished noise.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “I am such a scatter-brained fool! I have to complete the essay for Herbology tomorrow. How could I possibly have forgotten?”

“Which essay?”

“I shall have to run to the library and finish it now. I shall see you all anon.”

With that, she turned tail and walked briskly up the corridor and away from them in the direction of the library. Once she turned the corner and was out of sight, she paused and listened out for their footsteps on the stairs behind her. Certain that they had now left, she retraced her steps and, with a look over her shoulder, opened a shabby looking wooden door and slipped behind it.

The room beyond the door was a storage room, filled with old cauldrons and barely bristled broomsticks, along with the caretaker’s cleaning equipment. She reached into the largest of the cauldrons and pulled out a small cage made of metal wire, containing a single minky-furred and foul-smelling ferret.

“Here you are, you stinky thing,” she told it, reaching into the pocket of her robes and pulling out a handful of food that she had stolen from the dinner table, which she scattered into the cage through the gaps between the metal wires. She used a handkerchief to wipe her hands, before pulling out her wand and pointing it at the ferret. “Now, stay still.”

She closed her eyes, envisioning the ferret turning a pure, brilliant white, and cast the spell she had looked up in a Transfiguration textbook she had found in the library earlier in the week: “Colovaria.”

She opened her eyes and groaned quietly. The ferret’s fur had indeed changed colour, but rather than white, it was now jet black. She tried again.

“Colovaria!”

This time, the ferret turned vivid fuchsia. Unwilling to give up until she had managed it, Ophelia repeated the procure over and over, the ferret turning every colour under the sun, until eventually, it finished the table scraps and grew tired of being her test subject, and began to gnaw at the bars of its cage, grunting angrily.

“I am sorry,” Ophelia told the now mustard-coloured ferret. “I did not realise that it would be quite so difficult. But do not fret. I am certain that your coat will return to its usual colour quite soon.”

This was a lie. Ophelia may have underestimated the spell’s difficulty, but she was all too aware of her own shortcomings when it came to magic. That was why she had borrowed the ferret in the first place; she had not wished to use the spell on herself until she had perfected it on something else. She did not wish to end up with her own hair a horrid yellow colour, not when she had envisioned it being a sweet, flaxen blonde, like Caro’s or Adelia’s.

She had decided that blonde hair would be her first step to becoming beautiful on the first night of the term, after Caro had returned from the summer even more towheaded than usual following two months of long days in the Swedish sunshine. Several people had stopped to compliment her hair, and Bradford Pendleton had stared at the pale golden colour of her tresses for an hour straight. Since then, Ophelia had tried every possible way she could think of to lighten her own mousey hair: sitting out in the sunshine for hours at a time, sneaking into the kitchens to steal honey and lemon juice, and keeping back some of the urine from her chamberpot. But with none of the methods had been overly effective, and having found that her skin had darkened, her hair had become sticky, and several people had started wrinkling their noses when in her vicinity, she had decided that she would be far better resorting to magic, even if her spellcasting was below par.

“It really is terrible being plain and poor and bad at magic,” she told the ferret, with a deep mournful sigh. The ferret stopped chewing at the bars to look at her. “No, you’re quite right. I really had ought to pull myself together. The sooner I get the hang of this, the sooner I will be beautiful, and the sooner you can return to Miss Hexley and Miss Fraser. Colovaria!”

This time, though the ferret did not turn white, its coat did lighten to a very pale shade of lilac. Well, that was an improvement at least.

“See? We shall be done in no time at all.”

And it was just as well, Ophelia thought. The smell of ferret was starting to make her feel quite sick, and she was quite looking forward to claiming the generous reward that was promised for its safe return.

[lifeofkaze]

The Adventures of Alan the Ferret

The Rescue Mission

A/N: Happy Birthday to my free-spirited Highland gal Selene! May your whiskey never dry, stories never get boring and fire never go out. Stay wild, moon child ❤️ Ethel Hexley belongs to my wonderful @the-al-chemist, Gabriel Sapieha (in mention) to @slytherindisaster

Twelve-year old Selene Fraser was seldomly nervous. She didn’t bat an eye at sneaking out at night, balancing over the thinnest of ledges, or diving headfirst into the fray on her broomstick on the hunt for the Golden Snitch.

Today, however, she was sat at the back of the Transfiguration classroom like a cat on a hot tin roof, her foot bouncing rapidly and her eyes fixed on the clock ticking above the dais with the teacher’s desk.

When the deep sound of the bell ringing inside the clockwork tower signalled the end of their class, the assembled students packed away their things. One after the other they filed into the back of the classroom to put away the ferrets they had transfigured into feather dusters, to be untransfigured by some unfortunate first-years.

Professor Figg, the good-humoured Transfiguration teacher, was walking up and down the rows of tables, checking for leftover props, forgotten quills or parchment. When he walked by Selene’s table, he paused.

“Is anything the matter, Miss Fraser?”

Selene stopped squirming in her seat and slowly looked up at her teacher. “Not at all. Why would anything be the matter?”

“Because all of your classmates seem to have packed their things and you’re the only one still lingering behind. Have you stowed away your feather duster?

“Ethel did it for me, Sir” Selene answered dutifully. As soon as she had said it, Ethel Hexley, Selene’s best friend and Transfiguration partner, appeared next to her table.

“That I did, Sir,” Ethel said and looked at him so innocently that Professor Figg couldn’t help but notice a sinking feeling building inside his stomach. Ethel ushered Selene out of her seat and the two girls quickly made for the door, but it was still blocked by their classmates. They tried pushing through them but were stopped by the voice of Professor Figg calling them back.

“Miss Fraser, Miss Hexley. A word, please.”

Selene and Ethel stiffened and exchanged glances before reluctantly returning to the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom.

“What is the matter, Sir?” Ethel asked with an overly concerned frown. Selene didn’t say anything; she stood next to Ethel fidgeting nervously. She brushed her hand up and down her skirts and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Professor Figg looked at her curiously but she kept her eyes fixed to the top of his desk.

“I seem to be short a feather duster,” he said slowly, not taking his eyes off Selene. “You two wouldn’t happen to have seen it anywhere, would you? Miss Fraser?”

“No, why would we?” Ethel answered in Selene’s stead, her eyes wide with wonder. “I did take both of our feather dusters back, like all of us did. You saw me coming back, didn’t you? Where would I have come from had I not been putting both of them where they belonged? And what would we do with a feather duster, in any case? I see no reason why we would know about the missing subject’s whereabouts.”

“As elaborate as your defence is, Miss Hexley, the two of you have managed to build a reputation for stirring up trouble.”

“That is defamation. Sir,” Ethel added indignantly when she saw Professor Figg’s eyebrows rise. “Whatever you heard, Sapieha and his comrades started it. We would never do anything to intentionally cause trouble.”

“Trouble has made it a habit of finding us,” Selene shrugged and Ethel elbowed her into the side. Selene gave a little shriek and gripped the fabric of her skirt tightly. She bit her lip and her face twisted as if she was in pain. Both Ethel and Professor Figg looked at her, one in slight alarm, the other in astonished concern.

“Miss Fraser, are you alright?”

Selene had gone pale in the face. She didn’t answer but nodded frantically.

“Are you certain? Your demeanour is most peculiar.”

Ethel looked between their teacher and her friend and gave a deep sigh that sounded as if she had to bring herself to speak.

“I am truly sorry, Selly dear,” she said and looked at Selene apologetically, “but we do need to tell him the truth. As our teacher, he is most concerned about your welfare, after all.” Looking left and right as if to make sure they were really alone in the classroom, she lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “Selene is quite unwell. The beans for lunch, you understand? Selene can’t help herself when it comes to beans, always over-indulging herself. I keep telling her, but she just won’t listen.”

Selene glared at Ethel but moved her free hand to her stomach while the other was still clutching her skirts. She rolled her eyes dramatically and groaned as if in sudden pain. “Would you let us go, Sir? My stomach is really rather upset.” To prove her point, she started dry-heaving and Professor Figg quickly stepped to the side.

“Merlin, of course,” he stammered, not sure what to do with the now writhing and wailing girl in front of him. “Escort Miss Fraser to the Hospital Wing, Miss Hexley, will you?”

Ethel linked arms with the doubled over Selene and pulled her toward the door. “No need, Professor. My dear mamma used to give my brother Jimmy a ginger root to chew when his stomach was upset. That happened to him every other day, the poor soul. Papa said it was his constant state of agitation, but I’m not entirely sure what he meant with that. Whatever would Jimmy be agitated about? Let’s go and get you a ginger root, shall we, Selly?”

Selene glanced up at Ethel from beneath her dark hair which had fallen into her eyes after a particularly dramatic impression of a stomach cramp. “Are you sure you’re actually supposed to chew a whole root, Effy?”

“Of course you are. Don’t I give the impression that I know what I’m doing? That must the sickness speaking out of you. Or the beans, whoever might know?”

The two girls had been moving towards the door while they were speaking and were almost through it when the voice of Professor Figg sounded behind their back.

“What about my feather duster?”

“We will keep an eye out for it,” Ethel called over her shoulder and with that, she and Selene had made it through the door and out of the classroom. They just so managed to maintain their composure until they had rounded the corner and were out of earshot before they burst into laughter and started running.

When they reached the Gryffindor common room, they barged up the steps to their dormitory and threw the door shut behind them. As soon as Ethel had made sure that the door was looked, Selene carefully let go of the lump of fabric in her dress she had been holding. She lifted the black skirt of her uniform to reveal the petticoat underneath, shaking it slightly. When nothing happened, she frowned and shook it with more force. She started jumping up and down until eventually a brown ball of fur dropped onto the floor. After a moment it unfurled to reveal a small and lithe body with a long, bushy tail. The ferret righted itself, shook his little head and looked around himself in confusion.

“I can’t believe it worked,” Selene whispered and stared at the ferret in awe.

“Of course it worked,” Ethel said matter-of-factly, “the plan was infallible. I don’t see what could possibly have gone wrong.”

Selene only raised her head shortly before concentrating on the ferret again. “A few things come to mind.”

“One of them being your acting skills. You certainly won’t win a price for subtlety anytime soon.”

“My acting skills are marvellous!”

“If I ever need to cast a woman wailing herself to death I know who I shall turn to.”

“Can you even fathom what it feels like to carry a ferret beneath your petticoat?”

“Do I look like I would know?”

“It wouldn’t keep still and it bit me. Look!” Selene cried out and presented a narrow set of two angry red puncture holes on her thigh where the ferret had nipped her. She prodded the spot with her finger and a drop of blood started forming. Selene unceremoniously wiped it off with her sleeve. She suddenly stopped and looked at Ethel with wide eyes. “That’s not dangerous, is it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Selly. Have you ever heard of ferret bites being poisonous?”

“I don’t think so.”

“See? We shall not worry about it. But do let me know if you feel like you’re about to faint. Mamma taught me how to use aromatic salt after I made Jimmy faint three times in a row.”

“I shall.” Selene let her skirts drop and kneeled down in front of the ferret. “I don’t even know why we rescued you. It was utterly rude not to cooperate with us when we had nothing but your best interests at heart.”

The ferret made a little chirruping sound and tilted its head, staring at Selene out of big, dark eyes. Her face softened and she extended her hand to touch the soft fur. “Look at you pretending to be a nice, well-mannered critter. Why, you are quite the little rascal, aren’t you?” she giggled as the ferret climbed up her skirt and back and peeked its head out from in between Selene’s hair. She took him off and held it out to Ethel for closer inspection.

“Whatever shall we name him, Effy?”

“What do you think about Biscuit?”

Selene made a doubtful noise. “That doesn’t strike me as very clever. Is Biscuit even a proper name for a ferret?”

“I’d wager that it is not,” Ethel shrugged, “but I’d fancy some.”

Selene looked at the ferret again. “He doesn’t strike me as the type of ferret to be named after a treat. But I do suggest we go and get some.”

“Splendid. Something less exciting than Biscuit then.”

“Most things are less exciting than biscuits.”

“Naturally. What do you think of Alan?”

“Why Alan?”

“Our Potions Master is called Alan, I believe. His eyes are just as beady.”

“What a keen observation.” Selene brought the ferret closer to her face. “How do you like Alan? Do you want this to be your name?”

The ferret yawned widely, wrapped its tail around Selene’s wrist and snuggled deeper into her hands. A smile formed on her face as she held the animal closer to her chest.

“That is good enough for me. Welcome to the family, Alan.”

[usernoneexistent]

Autumn 1895: Starting fourth year, Winona seeks out her cousin, Lysander to spill what she discovered during her holidays. Apologises, I didn't have time for the drawing but it will be coming in an edit.

Characters featured: Victoria Summer @whatwouldvalerydo, Nolan Miller @hogwartsmysteryho, Lysander Mercury @slytherindisaster, Jim Hexley @the-al-chemist.

Character mentioned: Selene Fraser @lifeofkaze, Ethel Hexley @the-al-chemist.

Warnings: disastrous cousins.

Winona couldn't wait for the Headmaster's speech to end. All she wanted to do was find her cousin, Lysander and tell him everything she had discovered. She felt she had to say the details in person rather than through correspondence, which was far too complicated to explain.

"Are you alright, Winona?" Her best friend, Victoria Summer, asked.

"Yes, I am completely fine," Winona assured though the knot forming at Victoria's forehead said otherwise. "How come? Do you think something is wrong?"

"You seem..." The Gryffindor carefully chose her following words, "restless."

"You shouldn't worry about me. I am fine, chirky even."

"If you say so," Victoria said, still uncertain but turned to chat with Selene Fraser and Ethel Hexley. Winona watched across to the Hufflepuff table, looking for a blonde boy whose hair could change on a dime. She spotted glimpses of blonde hair sitting next to darker hair and a more wiry-looking boy, most likely Jim Hexley. The prefects took the first years to their common rooms, leaving the rest to join later. This was Winona's chance without her brother getting suspicious.

"I shall meet you later in our dorm." She mentioned it to Victoria, giving a nod of acknowledgement before returning to the conversation. She walked around the long table between the Gryffindor and the Hufflepuff table.

Her shoulder bumped into a certain Ravenclaw; however, she was too busy to care.

"Oi, watch it where you're going, Rosewood!" Nolan Millar exclaimed.

"You better shut it, Miller!" She quickly stuck her tongue out, but she couldn't afford to wait for his reaction.

"Lys!" She quietly tapped his shoulder. "Artefact room in five minutes."

"Um, but we're having our dinner right now."

"Sorry Hexley, but I need to steal him from you." Jim didn't look too pleased with Winona taking his friend away, "I promise it will be only for a couple minutes."

"It's fine, Jim. I'll be gone for only a couple of minutes." Lysander could sense it was big news, and she only rushed to her cousin like a seeker when it was colossal gossip. No, huge news.

Winona and Lysander quicken their pace. Some second years were already in the artefact room before they sent them out to their proper place.

"So? What is the news of the day, cousin?" Lysander was curious than ever; his hair changed to a playful Scheele's green.

"So, do you remember when I wrote to you that I discovered something in papa's office?" She referred to their regular correspondence over the Summer, sharing the latest gossip about the neighbours and adventures they had.

"Yes? I recall that you had some out-of-this-world news." His hair changed to purple as the anticipation built.

"Well, I found some letters from his mistresses." It was the first time Winona finally could say it out loud. The word felt strange and foreign to her. It wasn't as bad as she had expected herself to feel. Lysander's mouth gaped wide open for one of the few times; he was genuinely speechless.

"And..."

"There is more." His mouth turned into a partial smirk.

"I have an older half brother." Winona finally said. Lysander was really now grinning. "I knew there would be more. Who is it? Is he here, at Hogwarts?"

Winona knew her cousin would naturally be curious as to who it was.

"Yes, he's actually in your dorm," Winona teased.

Lysander muttered through the potential suspects, eliminating them one by one until he reached only one name. He almost gasped out in excitement.

"No, it can't be? It's Colin Moss!" He glanced over at his cousin, and Winona nodded in confirmation. Though Lysander furrowed his blonde eyebrows. "But I thought you had said his father was a werewolf. Well, we knew he wasn't a werewolf for two years, but still."

"I never said that he nor his father was a werewolf," the girl clarified. "I simply said that there were werewolves at his family's establishment. There is a huge difference."

"Same difference," Lysander rolled his eyes before glancing over at Winona. She is fraught with excitement and a bit of relief; it is like the weight of her world has finally been lifted off her shoulder. The fact that she had Lysander to talk about everything was an immense consolation. "Are you going to tell Colin about this?"

"Yes, I do plan on telling him about our shared paternity. However!" Winona gave a firm stare. "Don't tell Colin that you know until I have informed him."

Lysander morphed his mouth shut as he mimicked locking it and throwing away the key. It will be challenging, but Winona knew that her cousin would be quiet for her sake.

"I better let you scurry back to Jim before the feast ends."

"And you better tell me when you and Colin had that talk." The metamorphagus winked before slowly leaving for his Hufflepuff friend. Winona took her to leave too.

Walking to the fat lady portrait. What kind of life has he led so far? She had a rough idea based on what she'd heard. What were his mother and grandfather like? How similar were they? Does he look like their father?

All these questions fluttered around her head. Winona knew she needed the resolve to tell him today. She was ready; all Summer had time to brace herself and talk to him. Tell him the truth.

But that will have to wait for another time soon enough.

Previous chapter: Pandora's Box

Next chapter: New Kin Folk

[catohphm]

Thank you so much for including my boy 💙

Day 6: Valid Males

For @endlessly-cursed’s Hogwarts Legacy Appreciation Week

For this, I picked a bunch of awesome men who represent the wide spectrum of personalities found in each house. However, I want to give a shout out to these two boys: Adonis Demiurgos and Elias Quintin, who both let one of my girls (Minerva & Brianna, respectively) love them.

Gryffindor

Feautring:

Grant Kennedy

Adonis Demiurgos - @endlessly-cursed

Bernie Brennan - @amerrymystery

Oliver Gerard - @kc-and-co

Galen Stagg - @cursebreakerfarrier

Hufflepuff

Featuring:

Maxwell Pembroke

Prince Henry of Alderly - @gaygryffindorgal (who has renewed my idea of making a royal bastard kiddo with the last name Fitzroy)

Sebastian Oliver Devlin - William & Josie’s son

Lysander Mercury - @slytherindisaster

Jim Hexley - @the-al-chemist

Slytherin

Featuring:

Elias Quintin - @amerrymystery

Alfred Dermot “Alfie” Kennedy - Grant & Lottie’s son

Basil Keaton - @cursebreakerfarrier

Bradford Pendleton - @kc-and-co

Frederick Lavigne - @slytherindisaster

Ravenclaw

Featuring:

Oscar Theodore Lynch - Tadhg & Niamh’s son

William Devlin

Anthony Hawthorne - @gaygryffindorgal

Rueben Willows - @that-scouse-wizard

Danny Gibson - @catohphm

[endlessly-cursed]

HL- Beatrice Brown

"𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚."

Name: Beatrice Henrietta Brown 

Nicknames: Bea, Trix 

Birthdate: 12th of September, 18xx 

Zodiac Sign:Virgo 

Personality Type (MBTI): INTP 

Blood Status: Muggleborn 

Nationality: British 

Physical Appearance

Hair: Flaming red 

Eyes: Blue 

Height: 1.55m 

Weight: 56kg 

Body Type: Slim

Skin Tone: Pale, freckled for working in the sun 

Distinguishing Marks (scars, birthmarks, etc.): Several 

Background

Hometown

Warwickshire was the town where miners had been working for centuries, and the Browns were no less, working since the American revolution. She had a difficult childhood, and had to start working at six years old to maintain the family, as well as many mouths to feed came into the family. 

The moment she got her Hogwarts letter, her life changed for the better. 

Family

Mother: Louisa Jolene Brown neé Mills

The granddaughter of a Baron, her mother was the bastard daughter of the baron, who shunned them because her mother was Spanish and supporter of the First Spanish Republic. They grew up in a small cottage in Devonshire and trained her to marry someone who’d make her work lighter and better.When she turned 19 she met Bartholomew Brown while taking a stroll with her best friend when she noticed a handsome, shirtless young man covered in black– when she took a closer look, he was being beaten. She commanded them to stop and brought him to her house, where she healed him– they fell in love instantly. They married shortly after. Louise walked to the altar three months pregnant of Beatrice.Sadly, seven years later, when giving birth to her son during three days, she’d die of childbed fever shortly after. This devastating loss marked the Browns forever and Bartholomew wasn’t the same. So it was a joy when his eldest daughter received a letter from Hogwarts.

Father: Bartholomew Christian Brown 

A Muggleborn whose father was a coal miner as well, he always was a simple man who enjoyed the simple things and never took anything for granted. He grew up in a closed world where you were defined by your birth and never knew how to write nor read. It was his future wife and mother of his three children Louise, a granddaughter of a Baron, who taught him and her intelligence, stubbornness and kindness which made him fall in love with her.

Younger sister: Esther Louisa Brown 

Esther and Bea were the closest in age and bonded over many things and helped and defended one another when it came to fending off old lechers or when the mine was too tough. She was bugged by being separated from her when her Hogwarts letter came, but it was all for the good of the family. Esther went to marry Andrew Rivers, the ancestor of Isabelle Dubois, whose mother was a Rivers by birth. 

Brother: Albert Ruben Brown 

Bea loves her brother and does her best to protect him, though he’s a man with his own ego and is a bit entitled and has some misogynistic views of women in the family business, and the fact that he despised Beatrice for having exclusive education while he had to sacrifice it for the family. The two of them lost contact when he married a childhood friend and only asked for money. 

Hogwarts

House: Gryffindor 

Best Class: DADA, Muggle Studies, Ancient Studies, Charms

Worst Class: HOM 

Boggart: Her dead mother blaming her for her death 

Riddikulus: Her dressed as a bunny 

Patronus: tbd 

Patronus Memory: Singing with her mother 

Mirror of Erised: Being able to love Orla openly 

Amortentia (what she smells like): Coal, tall grass, beer and pine wood 

Amortentia (what she smells): Freshly plucked strawberries, variety of flowers and rainy day 

Career

7-10: Coal miner

11-18: Hogwarts student 

19-24: Quidditch trainee 

25-40: Player of the Harpies as a Chaser 

40-55: Captain of the Harpies 

56-64: Flying professor at Hogwarts 

65+: Retiree 

Personality & Attitude

Priorities: Her family, her own survival, the rights of coal miners 

Strengths: Strong-willed, humble, patient, brave, honourable, kind and caring 

Weaknesses: Stubborn, proud, never asks for help, reserved and extremely quiet 

Stressed: Around rich people and purebloods who benefit from her family’s suffering 

Calm/Comforted: In Orla’s arms 

Favorites

Colors: Red, black, gold and blue 

Weather: Cool and calm 

Hobbies: Learning, football and knitting 

Fashion: Due to living most of her childhood in poverty, she dresses very simple and poorly made outfits, rarely caring of how she looks, caring more of taking something to her mouth 

Relationships

Significant Other/Love Interest: Orla Shannon Atkinson ( @nightmaresart​ ) 

Orla and Beatrice met during the meals in the Great Hall. One Slytherin was laughing at her for being a "mudblood" when Beatrice silenced him with a slap and delivered a speech of how she was much more than her status and that while she'd mature and learn, he'd always be an obtuse, narrow-minded and ignorant pureblood. She was intrigued then by this girl who stood up to her bully. Later, she'd realise she was in most of her classes, and how strong-willed, independent, kind and resilient she was. Her fondness grew to love and soon revealed her feelings to her in the Astronomy Tower when everybody else was sleeping. Beatrice returned her feelings and both of them would act as best friends, but at night they'd organise rendezvous and steal kisses and words of affection. When her father found out, he was scared of her, but supported her nevertheless. Orla soon became one more of the Browns.

Soon, after graduating, when the Harpies accepted and both had to shape themselves, she vowed to love nobody and find her way to her again. They wrote to one another and kept her vow until they found each other and wed on Lady Gray's chapel, vowing to never part from the other and always be their #1 priority.

They couldn't have children, but they adopted the children of the fallen coal miners and stray kids and gave them a better life.

Friends: Ethel Hexley ( @the-al-chemist​ ) 

Both women hit it off right away, both having similar backgrounds and bonded over many things and soon showed an eager Ethel the ropes of the coal miners’ suffering and both supported one another, accompanying them to their respective activisms 

Abigail Jane Bennett ( @mjs-oc-corner​ ) 

Both had similar backgrounds and were dormmates, and soon bonded over many things, and she helped her be more secure about herself and better a bit more her image, and became good friends and almost sisters to one another. 

Rivals: TBD (though she’d have a handful) 

Trivia

Due to the homophobia of the era, she and Orla couldn't marry, but had a small ceremony where her father and someone of Orla's trust witnessed and was officiated by Lady Gray in her family chapel as Viscountess.

They had to move from place to place because of her work.

She never had children of her own but adopted several children who had become orphans because of the bad life quality life of the coal miners.

She became later in life a great advocate of the coal miners, taking her father's work

She can run really fast and her father taught her street fighting, so she can throw a punch

She spent most of her life honing her duelling skills.

Her dormmates were the only ones who knew about she and Orla.

She used to be bullied by Slytherins because of her blood condition.

Her father died a year after her clandestine wedding to Orla due to his poor health.

[slytherindisaster]

There is no plot or premise for this tbh, I just really wanted to put some of these clips together and then I just kept going. @the-al-chemist gotta love the dumbassery they have going on

[that-scouse-wizard]

HPHL Appreciation Week Day 4: Favourite Ships that aren’t Mine

Part 4 of @endlessly-cursed‘s event

Ethel Hexley (@the-al-chemist) and Lysander Mercury (@slytherindisaster) 

A rivals to lovers ship where the two of them bicker but there’s actual chemistry between them? Hell to the yes.

Siobhan Llwelyn (@kc-and-co) and Galen Stagg (@cursebreakerfarrier)

These two are one of the most adorable ships out there, the fluff (and occasional bit of angst) from these two is so good!

Carolyn Nybery (@lifeofkaze) and Bradford Pendleton (@kc-and-co)

Can I just say that the idea of these two being in an arranged marriage, despising it only to eventually fall for each other was an absolute stroke of genius on behalf of their fabulous creators.

[the-al-chemist]

Ahahahaha Ethel’s face at the end 😂 these two would either be an unstoppable force, or would butt heads horrendously… probably both, depending on the day.

Also, Ethel’s dad isn’t the worst looking…

When @the-al-chemist made a comment about the rumor that Ophelia had set her sights on Siobhan's wealthy, handsome, and single father... I knew this bit would have to be done eventually.

Siobhan: Make sure your girl Ophelia hears your next speech on feminism. Rumor has it, she's interested in my pop.

Ethel: Not even she would be dumb enough to try that. Being attracted to a friend's father? That's gross.

Siobhan: Despicable.

Ethel: Disgusting.

Siobhan: Unacceptable.

Ethel: Just plain wrong.

Siobhan: I never wondered if your father was hot.

Ethel: Why would you?

Siobhan: I wouldn't.

Ethel: Good.

Siobhan: Yeah...