#verucca buckthorn-snyde

[carewyncromwell]

“Stolen moments, gone forever! Well, tables can turn, as my enemies will soon enough learn...”

x~x~x~x

HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri​ // brief reference to Maya and Jacob Avery @akikocho​

x~x~x~x

The Jokers’ Domain was always a very lively place. New faces and new acts arrived everyday, and no one day was ever just like the last. But one day that certainly left an impact on a lot of its longtime residents was the day the man who would become known as the Escape Artist first stumbled in.

For one, he was a complete wreck, visually. His pale, bruised face was hemmed in by a mane of long, matted black-brown curls, dripping wet onto his shoulders. He wore only one black boot, and his left pant leg had been almost completely ripped off, the loose blue fabric dangling by the thread off his leg like a cape. And that didn’t even touch the dirty, bloodstained straitjacket he was inexplicably wearing. He’d managed to cut the sleeves open with something sharp -- whatever it was, it’d left his hands bleeding through the fabric. Despite the injuries to his hands, though, he kept his left fist clenched around something round, silver, and covered in green algae -- a pocketwatch emblazoned with the crest of the Country of Spades.

The other thing that made the man memorable, though, was how he so thoroughly trashed several Carnival acts as soon as he arrived, without even meaning to.

The poor man seemed very precarious on his feet, and to make matters worse, he seemed both unable to form words and close to blind -- almost as if he was a newborn baby animal still struggling to master his senses and muscular coordination. Blinking rapidly but seeing almost nothing, he stumbled right into Ismelda Murk’s tent and ended up right in the center of her knife-throwing act. Despite being both overwhelmed by the sounds of the crowd and unable to see clearly, the strange man somehow managed to avoid the throng of knives Ismelda had flung out toward her targets by ducking the first three, dodging the fourth, and even catching the last one in his teeth. Then, dropping the knife at once, he ran out, grunting something indiscernible as he shoved Ismelda’s assistant Beatrice roughly out of his way.

“Ddddeafff -- geottru -- phind -- ”

As soon as the strange extricated himself from Ismelda’s act, though, he ended up barreling right into a fortune teller’s stall and shattering her crystal ball (where he managed to dodge the punch from the owner’s husband); took the reins of a cart and rode it a short way until crashing it into another tent (further damage from which he avoided by somersaulting out at the last minute); and then finally landed right in the midst of Beast Tamer Charlie’s act (which resulted in a dragon getting loose and the man narrowly escaping getting his head taken off by its spiked tail when it took off into the air).

It was one of the Domains’ most respected Jokers, Tulip, who finally put an end to this lively romp by putting her foot out and tripping the new arrival so that he stumbled half-blind into a tub of bobbing apples pushed forward by Tonks. The water splashing in his face seemed to startle the man back to life. He sputtered, shaking his head and wet hair, as he shakily tried to climb back out of the tub.

“Lem -- Lemme aught -- aught -- out -- ”

“Easy, mate,” said Tonks. “We’ll help you out.”

With Tulip’s help, Tonks helped the man up and out of the tub. He was suddenly shaking from head to toe as he blinked rapidly, trying to take in where he was clearly. Some light was slowly coming to life in his eyes as his vision started to clear.

“Morning, sunshine,” Tulip said playfully. “Can you see us now?”

The man blinked at her, then Tonks, then his surroundings. He seemed both incredibly overwhelmed and confused -- the water dripping down his face seemed to startle him again when he registered it and he shook himself fiercely, yanking himself out of Tulip and Tonks’s grip with a loud grunt.

“Nu -- find -- gawtu find -- ”

But Tonks cartwheeled over and cut him off before he could go bolting off again.

"Wotcher, stranger,” she said, holding her hands up to try to both halt and pacify him. “We’re not here to hurt you. At least Tulip and I aren’t -- can’t say the same for the people whose acts you disrupted...”

She jabbed a thumb at Charlie trying to rein in the dragon that was flying free overhead and prompting other Carnival workers to run for cover.

The man seemed to wince slightly, seeing the destruction he’d wrought. Tulip, however, was grinning broadly.

“I thought it was pretty funny,” she said brightly. “I mean, the way you ducked that one bloke’s punch by sliding right between his legs? That was brilliant! And the way you caught Ismelda’s knife in your teeth? You really are quite an escape artist, Mr....?”

Rather than answer, though, the man could only throw his gaze around, his bleary, lost eyes blinking rapidly as he sought out every face he could -- combed through them with desperation. He even at one point pushed Tulip right out of his way, his pale, bruised face resembling a starving man’s as he took in the Carnival tents, grunting anxious gibberish under his breath.

“ -- Dunshe -- dddeaff -- kairla find...”

Tulip frowned as she shared a side-long glance with Tonks. The pink-haired Joker then approached Jacob a bit more gently.

“It looks like you’re bleeding, mate,” she said. “Here...”

She materialized a handkerchief seemingly out of nothing, dipped it in the remaining water from the apple bobbing bucket, and then tried to wipe some of the blood off of his temple. In doing so, Tonks ended up brushing some of the hair out of the stranger’s face, making his skull-like, almond-shaped blue eyes easier to see.

“He’s a Cromwell!”

Tonks and Tulip looked up, startled, as Beatrice pushed through the crowd, Ismelda not far behind.

“I know those eyes,” she said, pointing right at the stranger with narrowed eyes. “Only the Cromwell Clan jewelers have eyes like those. He must be from the Diamond Empire!”

“Weird to be from Diamonds, if he’s carrying one of these,” said Tulip.

She held up the pocketwatch the stranger had been carrying up until then, letting it dangle off its chain. The man got very agitated seeing that Tulip had snatched the watch from him and immediately made a furious move as if to retrieve it, but Tonks circumvented him by stomping down hard on his foot.

“Sorry, mate, but I can’t let you hurt my best bud,” Tonks said in a bracing voice. “Now you want to tell us who you are? Maybe even just a name we can call you, if that’s too much?”

The man, however, didn’t answer. Instead, without getting up off the ground, he rolled right across the ground, right past Tulip and Tonks. When Beatrice and Ismelda tried to stop him, he weaved around them, snatching one of Ismelda’s spare knives out of her belt as he went. Then he cut several ropes on the nearest tents, making them come flopping down around the surrounding Jokers -- the mayhem that ensued allowed the man to snatch the pocketwatch back from Tulip, before he ran off into the woods and out of sight.

And that was the day the strange man who’d stumbled his way into the Jokers’ Domain with no name or awareness of who or where he was gained the title of the Escape Artist.

x~x~x~x

Somewhat surprisingly, the Escape Artist did return to the Jokers’ Domain after that whole fiasco. He actually came back with his face and straitjacket looking cleaner than before, dressed in new boots and pants, and bearing some reimbursement for the damage he’d done in the form of several small bags full of rubies, diamonds, and sapphires. He even gave knife thrower Beatrice the additional gift of an onyx ring, which -- although too big to wear on her ring finger -- still fit her thumb.

“They didnert know me,” the Escape Artist told her. “De Cromwell Clan Joolers. Bu’ thanks anyway.”

His words were shockingly articulate compared to when he appeared in the Jokers’ Domain several months prior, but he still seemed to have some trouble articulating certain consonants. He also seemed unable to answer simple questions like what his name was or what he was looking for, even though it was obvious that he was searching for something. These things clearly weren’t indicative of his intelligence, though -- at one point on his second trip, he sought out Tulip, showing off the pocketwatch she’d tried to take from him.

“Th’shell is Di-mound Em-pyre silver,” he said, his eyes narrowed with determination despite the sloppiness of his words. “Bu’the balance and gears air steel -- de likes o’ which aren’t Di-mound -- andchu sed t’was weird, fer me chu have one o’ these. Hoo’as a watch lie dis, dat chu’ve seen?”

Tulip’s lips knit together a bit more tightly. “Don’t know if I should say...are you planning to go running off to find that person next, if I tell you?”

The Escape Artist nodded.

“She’s right dangerous,” Tulip warned him. “Probably wouldn’t take kindly to you barging into her country and causing havoc. Not that I mind havoc,” she added with a wry grin, “That’s always good fun. And honestly, I’d say Patricia Rakepick is long overdue for some real chaos..."

“Patricia Rakepick?” repeated the Escape Artist. He said the name perfectly clearly and in an oddly sharp tone of voice.

“Yup. Once the Ace of Spades, now having styled herself Queen of the lot. She’s made herself quite a Tyrant, so I’ve heard.”

The Escape Artist’s eyes seemed to have gone very dark and murky as he took a step back and turned away. Tulip cocked her eyebrows at him, interested.

“Do you know her?” she asked.

“No,” said the Escape Artist. He glanced over his shoulder at Tulip, his skull-like eye shining with determination. “Bu’ hi intend to.”

As he started to walk back toward the flap of the tent, Tulip stopped him.

“Hold on,” she said. “If you’re planning on starting anything, you should at least take a few calling cards.”

She gave him a small handful of playing cards. When he unfurled them the way a dealer would a hand, the dark-haired man saw they were all various designs of Joker cards.

“Patricia Rakepick’s been looking for enemies to target lately,” said Tulip. “Best make sure she knows that it’s us who’s giving her a headache, rather than any more innocent bystanders. If nothing else, we Jokers don’t need any Hearts or Diamonds stealing the credit!” she said a bit more mischievously.

The Escape Artist considered the cards for a moment before pocketing them with a shrug and turning to go again.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Escape Artist?” Tulip called after him, her face becoming a bit more serious. “Escaping the Country of Spades is hard enough on its own -- trying to escape its Tyrant, once she has you in her sights? That’s quite a dragon to poke in the eye.”

If the dark-haired Joker heard her, he didn’t respond.

Tulip’s lips curled up in a weak, faintly cynical smile as she turned her back on the tent flap through which the Escape Artist had left.

“Let the game begin...”

x~x~x~x

When the Escape Artist arrived in Spades, he was taken aback by how much colder it was, compared to the Jokers’ Domain. But hey, that’s what happens when you stroll on into the Country of Spades in the middle of winter.

Sadly the Escape Artist was a bit ill-equipped to buy anything -- Spades’ trade had abruptly become highly regulated with Rakepick’s rise to power, and the Escape Artist lacked the identification needed to purchase any warmer clothing from the local shops. Fortunately he finally found a man shivering in an alley who was willing to trade his old red waistcoat for one of the large diamonds the Escape Artist had "acquired” while escaping the Cromwell Clan Jewelers. The coat was decorated with little black buttons shaped like spades -- the Escape Artist found himself fiddling with them off-and-on for the next hour, oddly charmed by their shape.

He felt like he’d had buttons like these once...maybe on a waistcoat like this one. He liked this shade of red.

As the Escape Artist strolled along, he earned quite a few side-long glances for his strange attire. The waistcoat wasn’t strange exactly -- a bit bright, perhaps, but otherwise normal -- but the straitjacket-turned-shirt was definitely odd, as was the length and shagginess of the man’s hair. There was also something oddly ghostly about his features -- his complexion was so pale and his eyes were so sunken-in that his face resembled a skull. Not to mention he kept rambling only half-decipherable nonsense to himself under his breath --

“Kwite a drear locale...de road’s blocked off, dat’s new...where’s de shop? Dere we go...s’all closed up. I know it, dun I? ...Dun I...know it...?”

The Escape Artist wandered quite a while. It was honestly like his feet were on autopilot, not even consulting his brain for a destination. Before he knew it, he’d ended up outside the castle of Spades. It was as he ended up in the shadow of the old clock tower that he found himself finally slowly coming to a stop, his eyes drawn up to it.

It was beautiful, wasn’t it? With its ornate iron spire and baronial architecture...must be just under 200 feet high...190, perhaps? Why, the turret clock’s face alone would have to be at least ten feet in diameter, and all made out of the most beautiful opal stained glass...

Its beauty was...foreboding, somehow. It chilled the Escape Artist to his core, just looking at it. The light behind that glass just seemed so lukewarm...warding him off, rather than beckoning him closer...

“He -- he was assassinated -- ”

The Escape Artist suddenly felt like his throat had sealed up. He clutched his head, choking painfully -- he felt a pair of black eyes on him, boring into him gravely --

“Then you’ll go after?” “ -- you’ll go after?” “ -- you’ll go after?”

It was too much. Overwhelmed with pain, the dark-haired man quickly withdrew, unable to stay in the shadow of the clocktower any longer.

He withdrew so quickly, though, that he took no notice of the soldiers that had entered the courtyard to confront him until he ran right into them.

“Hey!” one of them said indignantly. “Watch where you’re going, you!”

The Escape Artist stumbled back at the collision, but didn’t bother responding to the officers -- instead he impatiently tried to move past them. His head was pounding too badly for him to think straight...

“Hold it right there!” snapped the officer.

He grabbed the back of the Escape Artist’s coat and roughly pulled him back.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he demanded.

“Dis spot ‘urts me,” mumbled the Escape Artist absently.

The other officer fixed him with a scornful, incredulous look. “It hurts you? Well, you’re gonna be feeling a lot more hurt, if you don’t apologize to my buddy right now for running into him -- ”

“Sorry,” the Escape Artist cut him off dully. “Now woncha kind-y bugger off...”

He made as if to leave again, but the officer holding him pulled him back so roughly he almost ripped his coat.

“What’d you say?” he snarled. “You have any idea who we are, you little pipsqueak?”

The Escape Artist’s eyes narrowed slightly at the dig to his modest height. “A pair o’ peabrains, fro’what I can see.”

The second officer grabbed hold of Jacob’s collar, looking ready to choke him.

“Troublemaker, huh?” he sneered, his teeth bared like a dog’s. “How about we just throw you in the slammer -- let you cool your ankles in some chains for a night?”

Chains. The Escape Artist remembered those -- there were manacles on both his ankles and his wrists -- binding him to a wall, locking him to cold stone --

Until he broke those chains. He broke them open. He then picked open the lock on the door and fled, overpowering the rifle-toting guard by the door with his bare hands and snatching the keys from a room two floors up --

The Escape Artist raised his head, his skull-like blue eyes flashing like gems as his lips unfurled in a crazed, manic smirk that made the officers shrink back.

“Y’think y’could ‘old me?” he whispered. “Go on then -- giv’it yer best go!”

Out of nowhere, he abruptly slammed the helmet on the second officer’s head down hard enough to stun him. Then, within seconds, he‘d slipped right out of the red coat, kneed the first officer in the groin, and snatched back his coat, slipping it back on as he ran across the courtyard.

“Augh -- ow -- don’t let him get away!” shouted the second officer.

The two men immediately pursued, chasing the Escape Artist throughout the palace grounds for what felt like hours. In that time, more and more officers arrived to try to fence him in, but to no avail. The Spades soldiers had no idea how this man could have such extensive knowledge of the palace’s grounds that he could navigate its winding halls with seemingly so little effort -- was it just luck on his part, or perhaps intuition? Was he really just that smart that he could figure out where there were likely to be emergency exits and how best to scale staircases and walls to avoid them? And worse still -- with every move this man made, he was making his way closer and closer to the throne room -- closer to the Queen of Spades --

Sure enough, that was the path the Escape Artist ended up taking, whether consciously or not. And when he arrived in the throne room and first lay eyes on the woman named Patricia Rakepick, he found himself once again frozen, stock still, just as he had been in the courtyard south of the clocktower.

“You!” “YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!” “ -- a danger as long as he’s alive -- ” “This is for the Queen -- !”

The Escape Artist’s head was throbbing with pain just looking at the woman sitting in that strangely familiar throne, dressed in gold-trimmed, military-worthy white and black. He felt himself shaking from head to toe as his eyes bore into her, struggling to focus through the blinding rage in his blood --

He didn’t know her. He knew he’d never seen her before in his life. And yet --

It was only because of the pain and confusion throbbing through the Joker’s head distracting him that the Army of Spades was able to catch up with him and -- with their superior numbers -- finally restrain him. They locked him in irons, with several officers pinning him to the floor on his stomach so he couldn’t get up.

“Mr. -- uh -- Whoever-You-Are -- you’re under arrest!”

“Does he have identification?”

“Don’t think so -- all he’s got in his pocket are some gems and a small deck of Joker cards -- ”

“So he’s a Joker?”

“What’s your name, Joker?”

“Dunno, dun care,” spat the Escape Artist, “an’ eve’if I did, I would nah tell th’ likes o’ chu, you shag-bag scrubs -- !”

The highest-ranked officer stepped on the back of the Joker’s curly head so as to roughly slam his face into the polished floor.

Rakepick’s face was arrogant when she finally rose from her throne and strode over to get a better look at who her subordinates had captured. She even used the toe of her boot to prompt the man to tilt his head from his position on the floor enough that she could better see his face.

When she did, however, the Tyrant of Spades’s face went as white as a sheet.

“It can’t be,” she breathed.

The Escape Artist stared up at Rakepick, his skull-like almond-shaped blue eyes boring into her in a mix of confusion and distrust. The lack of recognition in his eyes made Rakepick’s eyes widen further as she took a step back, throwing her gaze to the far window, through which one could see the clocktower in the distance. Yet it was like she didn’t see it or the window -- instead her gaze was cloudy, as if her mind was racing with thoughts.

“Your Majesty?”

An older woman with an orange streak in her gray bangs had come up behind the lesser officers, her arms folded behind her back in military posture. She was even dressed similarly to Rakepick, though colored black and violet, with a “J” emblazoned on her lapel.

“Madam Jack...” murmured one of the higher-ranked officers. The title made the Escape Artist twitch.

“Madam Jack?” There was no “Madam Jack” -- there was no -- !

But the woman called the Jack ignored both the Escape Artist twitching on the floor and her subordinate.

“What shall we do with the prisoner?” she prompted Rakepick.

Rakepick’s eyes darted down to the supposed Jack of Spades and then to the Escape Artist still fidgeting restlessly on the floor. Somewhere in her eyes, he could almost see something oddly tense, which then seemed to slowly chill and harden like ice before his eyes.

“Lock him in our strongest irons inside our base’s highest security cell under heavy guard,” the Tyrant of Spades said coldly. “I do not want him escaping us again.”

The soldiers holding the Escape Artist seized him, forcibly lugging him back up onto his feet. The Escape Artist tried to bolt out of their grip, but the chains binding him combined with the five men all holding him gave him no adequate leverage to pull free. As they dragged him out of the throne room with all of their strength, some of the soldiers could just barely catch some of the Tyrant and her Jack’s whispered exchange.

“ -- was dead?”

“He is dead -- ”

“Then how do you explain him? Or is that man a ghost sent back to haunt me?”

The tenseness in their leaders’ voices filled up the lesser officers with considerable dread as they led this mysterious prisoner out of the palace of Spades and through the courtyard toward the base just northward. As they went, they had to pass by the clock tower, where a very cold, supernatural wind swiped through them, on its way back toward the bell tower.

Another poor soul imprisoned by the likes of Rakepick, the ghost of Duncan Ashe thought grimly, as he faded away through the stone walls. How many more would there be, until Veruca was able to wrench control back out of Rakepick’s control...?

x~x~x~x

What happened next just about no one can fully agree on. The most credible account after the fact ended up being that of Maya Avery, a prisoner at the time who was associated with the resistance against Patricia Rakepick. Following her and her brother Jacob Avery’s escape from the base of Spades’ prison, she explained the serendipity of the circumstances thusly --

“The Tyrant’s men had brought this strange messy-haired man into custody. I remember because there were about five soldiers all holding onto his chains, just to keep him from escaping, as they dragged him past my cell. As he passed, he looked me over with this really focused look. Later that night, I heard a lot of ruckus, and when I got up, I saw him barreling past the cells, dragging four whole chains on his wrists and ankles behind him. When he saw me, he dashed up to my cell and told me to give him one of my hairpins. I tried to ask him what for, but he didn’t even answer -- he just snatched it right out of my hair and then bent it all out of shape! I was a bit cross at first, of course -- but then he set about picking the lock to my cell with it and then left the door open.

“‘There,’ he said. ‘Normally I’d offer to pay you, but I think this is probably more useful. The keys are two floors up, three doors down on your right, if you want them -- they’ll probably be too busy chasing me to notice you.’ His words were really slurred, so he said it a bit more messily than that, but you get the idea.

“Anyway, by then, he’d picked the locks on his manacles and he just ran off down the hall to the left. So I took his distraction and went to go get the keys so I could get Jacob and some of the others out. When we got up top, we found the whole base in disarray. The bloke from before must’ve stolen one of those new Mecha suits Rakepick’s been developing, and he used it to torch the warehouse holding the rest of them in it. Then he used the one he was in to bust his way right through the stone wall and hightail it right out of Spades. It was brilliant -- it was terrifying, of course, trying to escape that big of a fire...but still, it was brilliant.”

However the Escape Artist managed to trash every single one of the Mecha suits Rakepick had commisioned, though, two things were certain -- one, Patricia Rakepick was very, VERY angry that the Escape Artist had gotten away; and two, those who cursed the so-called “Tyrant of Spades” proposed a toast at the destruction of her newest “toys.” Even the ghost of Duncan Ashe, upon learning what happened from Veruca, seemed notably satisfied by the news.

“Jacob sketched out those suit designs with the thought of making mining safer and easier,” he admitted after some prompting, his gaze drawn away through the opal glass of the clock face. “They were supposed to help people, not be weapons of war.”

If Veruca hadn’t been so close to him at the time, she would’ve never caught the Counselor’s ghost’s melancholy whisper as he closed his eyes, fading away into supernaturally cold air.

 “...Jacob only ever wanted to do good for people. When he was alive...that’s all he ever wanted to do...”

[helenadurazzo]

Miscalculation

Part One of my rewrite of Year 7, Chapter 51, also featuring the fall of R, spoilers ahead

“The snitch has been caught!” The commentator loudly and enthusiastically informed the crowd. “The Holyhead Harpies gains a victory over the Wimbourne Wasps, allowing their position for the quidditch league cup to advance!”

Helena cheered loudly at the sound of the announcement, just like the other Harpies fans who were either dressed in emerald green and gold, or had fan merchandise such as flags, with those colors. It had certainly been an exciting match, although the Harpies were behind for the majority of the game. However, they managed to pull through. In fact, the other seeker would have probably grabbed the small golden ball with wings first if it wasn’t for them being distracted by a bludger sent by none other than Helena’s girlfriend, allowing just enough time for the Harpies’ own seeker to snatch the golden snitch

She watched as a familiar blonde hair figured approached her with a smile, “Hope you enjoyed the game.” Erika had managed to get Helena and her brother VIP tickets for the game so not only was she in one of the best spots to watch the match, it also was not very crowded, and accommodated for a casual conversation, even equipped with enough room to land a broom as many of the VIPs went to await seeing other members of the team, “Want a ride? I know a wonderful spot near the pitch.”

“Of course!” Helena happily exclaimed.

“Do not forget we have to meet up with Mum and Dad soon.” Her older brother, Jacob attempted to remind her, “Aunt Cynthia is coming to visit , remember?”

“I have not forgotten.” Helena replied as she carefully got on the broom. “Chill.”

“I will get her back in time.” Erika assured him, seemingly noticing Jacob’s somewhat impatient attitude, “Don’t you worry.”

As they flew away, Helena could imagine her brother with his unimpressed, yet reluctantly accepting face. She remembered how when she first told Jacob about Erika, how he went into an overprotective brother mode, however, took a few steps back when he realized that Erika could be a fair match for him, after all, she was a skilled dueler, even though the majority of her talents fell within the realm of quidditch.

Erika flew the broom towards a beautiful meadow with colorful flowers that was still within sight of the quidditch pitch. In fact, the two probably could have walked there if they could not fly or apparate. The bright shining sun brought the meadow to life by seemingly enhancing the vibrant colors of each and every petal. It reminded her of the time Erika surprised her with a nighttime tea date in one of the greenhouses following the Valentine’s day dance when both of them were at Hogwarts. Helena figured that Erika had learned by now that it did not take much to impress her in the end.

“You did wonderful out there!” Helena congratulated her girlfriend again with a warm embrace once she landed her broom, getting off carefully and then looking back towards Erika as she held her broom firmly. “The seeker may be the one to seal the victory by catching the snitch, but without beaters like you and Gwenog, they would never have a chance.”

Helena was never a super fan of quidditch when she was younger and could not claim any different now. However, what she definitely knew was that she had found a favorite quidditch team in the Holyhead Harpies, although she might have been a little biased. After all, her girlfriend did certainly look magnificent in her emerald green uniform that was not all that different from the dark green uniform she wore when she played for Slytherin as a student.

“I am still technically a reserve.” Erika reminded her with cautious optimism. “I only got to play this match because Rhonda fell badly ill with dragon pox.”

“Wasn’t she planning on retiring at the end of the season?” Helena asked curiously, hoping not to sound insensitive, “or was it the next one?”

“Yeah, although she was quite speculative about it.” Erika admitted. “As much as I want to be a permanent player, it’ll be sad to see her go, she has been a staple of the Harpies for many years.“

“You do make a good point.” Helena agreed. Although she had never met Rhonda before, she did recall seeing her name pop up a number of times, having at least part of the credit of successful victory to Harpies credited to her.

“I don’t want to make this all about me, so what have you been up to?” Erika asked.

“Well, you can not tell anyone what I am about to tell you.” Helena quietly began, glancing around her, “because if the wrong person hears this, it could ruin everything and we’d have to recalculate.”

“Does this have to do with R?” Erika questioned quietly, picking up on the need for secrecy.

“Yes.” Helena nodded, “Me and Jacob have a plan on how to take them down. Basically, we are going to get as many aurors as we can and ambush them at their next meeting, ending their reign of terror right then and there, and no one will get hurt ever again.”

Erika nodded at Helena’s brief explanation, “You have not told any of the members of the Circle of Khanna about your plan?” Erika skeptically asked.

“We have many members who are great with combat.” Helena explained, “Talbott and Tonks have been working hard to become an auror after graduation, and Jae knows his way around Knockturn Alley so he knows how to defend himself against dark magic. Regardless, we are all just students at the end of the day. The people we face if R are experienced with dark magic and much more knowledgeable than us, if the Circle of Khanna ambushed her, someone would get hurt, if not die for sure, and I cannot risk that. At least if we bring in Aurors, plus me and Jacob, no one else will need to get hurt.”

Erika sighed, “Seems like I am not talking you about keeping yourself out of danger am I? You need to remember that you are also not as experienced as the Aurors, and it’s simply because you have not had the extensive training they have had and nothing more, you want to go risk your life as well?”

“I managed to defeat Rakepick in the Sunken Vault.” Helena reminded her, “I may not be as strong as the Aurors or my brother, but I need to-“

“Shush.” Erika suddenly said, using her head to motion to someone who was most likely approaching them. She then leaned and whispered, “We will continue this later, just be careful.” into Helena’s ear.

Helena could not deny the fact that Erika had a strong point. However, she knew she was not like her peers, she never really was. None of them needed to get thrown into the cursed vaults and R nonsense but ended up being thrown in anyways, and it was her fault. She knew full well that if she had told her peers about her plan, they would not have questioned the idea of joining her, especially as it translated into Rowan’s death finally being avenged by contributing to the fall of the dark society that caused it. However, it was a risk Helena could not bear taking. Was her

plan complete nonsense? Possibly, however it did not matter much to her anyways, in a week, she told herself over and over again, replacing the amount of time with the necessary amount, this will all be over.

As these thoughts flowed through Helena’s head like a loud and rushing river, she noticed Gwenog Jones approaching them, like Erika she was still dressed in her Holyhead Harpies uniform, supposedly going to find them before heading to the tents to change like the rest of their teammates. She must had walked all the way there as Helena had not heard anything that could point to Apparation being the method of her arrival, unless her thoughts caused her to not hear the brief moment it happened, and she certainly did not have her broomstick in her hand. Still, Helena did not think much of it, after all, it made sense. Erika and Gwenog had been friends ever since they met during

their school years, with Gwenog serving as a mentor to Erika in the ways of being a beater.

“Great to see you again!” Gwenog called out with a smile, “How have you been Helena?”

“Good.” Helena replied simply, “Me and Erika were just talking about your victory against the Wasps, it was such an incredible match to watch.”

“Glad you enjoyed it!” Gwenog cheerfully replied, “Always happy to please a fan.”

“Any word about Rhonda’s condition?” Erika asked suddenly. “Is she recovering?”

“Hmm?” Gwenog started, as if she was caught off guard by the question, “Ah yes, Rhonda! I apologize, after all the prep work for this match and the insanity of actually doing said match has made the topic slip my mind you know?”

“Right…” Erika replied, however Helena could tell by her facial expressions that she was unconvinced.

Helena initially attempted to pay attention to Erika and Gwenog’s conversation, but an observation she silently made caused their conversation to become nothing but background noise. It was certainly hard to make out due to how bright the sun was shining, however Helena could confirm that there were two figures, on brooms, flying towards them. One was clearly a man, and by his messy black hair and seemingly lack of flying talent shown by how his broom refused to fly in a completely straight line, allowed Helena to determine that it had to have been Jacob who somehow managed to get his hands on a broom, rather than a more experienced member of the Wimbourne Wasps.

The second figure however, was much more difficult to determine. It was most certainly a woman, but her lack of wearing a green or yellow quidditch uniform determined she had either changed out of her uniform into more casual clothes, or like Jacob, was simply a spectator who got her hands on a broom, although she was certainly wearing the emerald green of the Holyhead Harpies. However, she started questioning more as the brooms got closer, and she could more clearly examine the woman who had a darker complexion and dark brown hair that almost appeared to be black that was styled in braids that flew gently with the wind, she almost looked like Gwenog, in fact, almost too much like Gwenog.

As if on cue, Gwenog suddenly turned around and pulled out her wand and did a quick swish of it but did not say anything. Almost immediately, her brother fell from his broom and succumbed to gravity, quickly tumbling towards the ground below him, however, the woman who looked like Gwenog more and more the closer she got, quickly landed her broom, stationed it to be directly below Jacob, and transfigured it into a mattress, which Helena inferred was certainly an improvement to landing awkwardly on the ground.

Normally, Helena figured that in the rare case she was ever involved in a situation that involved a doppelgänger and Gwenog, that Erika would need to be the one to tell the difference between the two. However, in this instance, even Helena, who did not know Gwenog as well, could even tell the difference. After all, she remembered during her first meeting with Gwenog Jones, she admitted to being poor with charms, even in the present. However, she also claimed she was one of the best in her year when it came to the art of transfiguration.

Helena grabbed her wand and pointed it threateningly at the imposter, however the woman only smirked as she uttered the word, “Expelliarmus.” With ease, causing for Helena’s wand to go flying out of her hand with a flash of scarlet light.

Her brother and Gwenog had their own wands out and engaged in a couple of spells back and forth with the fake Gwenog. However, the imposter managed to avoid each of their spells with ease, knocking both of them out with a stunning spell, though she herself even realized it would not give her a lot of time.

Helena watched as Erika instinctively stood in front of Helena as the woman turned towards them, “I do not know who you are.” Erika confidently spat at the woman, “but I won’t let you lay a single finger on her.” Helena assumed Erika did not have her wand with her, which honestly made sense as she hardly ever saw Erika with her wand during her training.

The woman only chuckled like a stereotypical villainess, Helena admitted it was cliche, but there was something about hearing an evil laugh in person that made it frightening, especially in a situation where you had no means to defend yourself effectively. Helena watched once more as the woman transformed herself into another form, Helena determined it was Verucca Buckthorn-Snyde, the director of R and according to multiple sources, one of the leader’s most trusted allies. Verucca looked as how Helena remembered her from spying on previous R meetings, an old woman with completely grey hair with the exception of a single part that was amber, not too unlike a certain Slytherin in her year.

“Unfortunately for you.” Verucca replied with a smirk as she grabbed both of them firmly most likely to enact a forced Apparation, “you don’t have a choice.”

[missnight0wl]

Y7Ch57: The Final “Battle”

*sigh*

Ok, let’s talk about this disaster.

Ah, yes. Because everyone knows that as soon as Dumbledore is not at Hogwarts, the faculty becomes totally incapable of doing anything – including people like Minerva Badass McGonagall or Filius Former-Duelling-Champion Flitwick. Yes, of course.

Funny that you say that, Jae. I’ll actually come back to it a little later.

You know what? No. Rowan would cry at least for a week straight if they knew how fucking stupid everyone is at this point.

All right, that might be my biggest problem with this whole “battle” because… WHY?? Why do we even care whether or not they get to Hogwarts? Minnie alone would kick their asses in under a minute – and quite frankly, I’d love to see it. Just let them through!

WHY THE FUCK DO WE CARE?!

Ok, so it’s never really explained who’s exactly Perry’s target here. Sure, we’re told it’s about an adult Legilimens, and MC deduced that both Dumbledore and Snape are adult Legilmenses. Still, it’s never addressed directly again, and it kinda bothers me. But whatever, I guess. Apparently, we’re supposed to assume that it’s indeed Snape who’s Perry’s target. But like… if there’s anyone at Hogwarts fully capable of defending themselves... IT’S SNAPE. Like… just imagine this encounter.

Perry: Severus Snape? I have a proposition for you that--

Snape: *lazily waves his wand*

Perry: *flies over the Black Lake, slightly smoking because of the impact of Snape’s spell that hit him*

Or…

Perry: Severus Snape? I’m Peregrine Lastname, I’m the father of MC and Jacob. I--

Snape: Sectumsempra!

Perry: AAAAAAAAAA!

Snape: I suffered years because of your two spawns.

Perry: Help! I’m bleeding out!

Snape: Yes, that’s a very accurate description of my suffering.

Seriously, why do we care?! I swear, this fucking “battle” has no stakes whatsoever, and I just don’t understand why it even exists.

Another absurd: why the fuck Verucca wants to kill Peregrine?

Ok, so at least it’s clear that Verucca is indeed a Snyde because apparently, all the Snydes are stupid bitches. If Verucca thought just for a moment, she’d realise that the Ministry focusing on Peregrine meant they’re focusing less on her. And that means she can do whatever she wants more freely. But whatever, I guess.

And here’s another stupidity. If Verucca wants to lead R, all she has to do is to convince other members that Perry is insane and that she’d be better for the whole organisation. Like, it should be super easy after he fucked up with the recent mind control test. And who fucking cares that he ruined R’s name or whatever? Rebel people against Perry, lay low for some time, change the name of the organisation, and enjoy your fucking profit! What would Perry do when left alone??

Because I’m gonna do it myself!

A friendly reminder that Verucca is also Merula’s mother’s sister (according to Y5Ch28) which means it’s quite likely Merula’s parents are cousins – which is not rare among pureblood families, after all :)

I know, it’s really disappointing.

Also, the Circle of Khanna behind us, especially Ben and Corey (and especially if you chose to ban Merula from the Circle a couple of chapters ago):

No, really, it’s just… so pathetic, considering that the vast majority of the Circle never cared about Merula and Merula never cared about them.

I… I’m…

HOW EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS SO BAD??

Also, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS FIRE?!?!?! How anyone at JC looked at this and was like: “Yeah, that’s good enough”?! I swear we had dragon fire animations before better than this abomination…

Ok, but Ben’s utter disappointment in this scene is the only good thing in this damn chapter. I can even say I actually enjoyed it.

I mean… Yeah, there were 17 of you and 7 of them, so… By the way, I talked more more about the fighting alone in this post.

Ok, but does anyone remember that R is supposed to be an international organisation? Was it simply retconned or are we supposed to believe that an international organisation has like… 14 members? Am I counting it correctly? Perry, 7 idiots he brought with him, Verucca, Merula, Shiratori, Burke, Zenith Xeep, and Rakepick. Right?

I don’t know how it’s possible, but this whole situation gets more and more pathetic the more I think about it.

Also, I mentioned in the post linked above that I felt more threatened by Mrs Norris in Y1. But you know what else had more tension than this damn “battle”? Our very first trip to Knockturn Alley. Remember this?

Now, let’s compare those situations.

Honestly, it’s just so upsetting that this game used to be created by people who actually could create tension for one simple event that doesn’t even matter that much in the great picture, and now we’re getting… THIS. The final “battle” with R had literally no stakes. There was no logic and therefore also no threats. I felt absolutely nothing, and I’m truly baffled remembering how many emotions this story could give me back in Y5.

Unfortunately, it all changed with the extremely stupid end of Y5, and it was getting only worse ever since. It’s like JC’s greatest ambition is making things worse than Y5Ch31 was.

But let’s move on because I’m not done.

MC’s reaction is about as emotional as I felt during this whole chapter. It’s just hilarious, sorry not sorry.

Ok, so at first, I wanted to leave this part because JC clearly doesn’t know what they’re doing anymore. But you know what? I’m gonna rant. Because no, Rowan’s sacrifice was not honoured. And quite frankly, you keep desecrating it by still using it at this point.

Learning the truth was something very important for Rowan. I mean, this is our conversation from the end of Y1:

By the end of Y7, I’m pretty sure we didn’t solve a single mystery of the story. And what’s the worst is that we didn’t solve the mystery of Rowan’s death. Sure, Peregrine told us that Rakepick went rogue or whatever. But it still makes no fucking sense.

First of all, only an idiot would believe in anything Peregrine says. But more importantly, we actually know about things suggesting that Peregrine lies. In the insane route, Rakepick in Azkaban is absolutely terrified of R, so how she’d go rogue if that’s the case? On top of that, we saw in Olivia’s memories that Rakepick talked with someone from R about Duncan brewing his potion. Yet, Peregrine claimed that R didn’t get involved with the Cursed Vaults until Jacob went missing. You know what it means? It means that Perry fucking lied. And if he lied about something this important, why should we believe him about anything else?

Moreover, we still don’t know why Rowan died. Rakepick told us in Azkaban that it wasn’t Rowan who was supposed to die that night. Then who? Ben? Why? Sure, Rakepick herself claimed in the Forest that she wanted to kill MC. And sure, you can say it makes sense if she saw MC as her competition – except it makes no sense! Why? Because it only made things harder for her. And the game even addressed that!

Why would Rakepick make things so much harder for herself just to get rid of her competition? Especially since she should’ve known where the Sunken Vault is because we know that R was there before (thanks to the note from the Weird Sisters TLSQ). But even if she didn’t know… it still would be more reasonable to not draw attention to herself and simply use it to work on getting to the Vault before MC.

You didn’t honour Rowan’s sacrifice. You ignored about 95% of things that ever happened in the game.

[hellodanny-hphm]

Final Thoughts on "The Great Final Battle"

SPOILERS CHAPTER 57

.

.

.

First of all, this battle was crap, it showed that R is a fraud and that his thugs are easily beaten by teenage wizards. I think it's bad to play a game where the villain or the evil organization is weak, it doesn't give emotion. I don't know what happened, after the shocking ending of year 5, we only got boring endings. Okay, until the end of Year 6 had its thrills.

Peregrine is another fraud, what a WEAK villain, got beat up by the MC, got beat up by Verucca, is this our biggest villain? He is crap, bad weakling, a COWARD. No one deserves a story with an incompetent villain, it completely loses its fun, everything is easy, without emotion.

Jam City really hates Merula, right? I got confused, reading the script on the datamine, I thought it was Merula who disarmed Verucca, sweet illusion, it would be very nice if she did that, Merula didn't do anything, she just stood there, without any important battle action, more once Jam City put her as useless, how I hate that. It's always the MC who has to be the hottie of the battle and the rest of his friends don't do anything.

But of course I loved seeing her choosing to side with the MC and considering him her family, it was so cute 🥰 This animation of her looking at the MC, what love ❤️ She's already part of the family anyway, she's going to be my bride.

At least we had some decent animation at the end, finally Verucca showed some grit, I was thinking she was just going to get arrested and that was it. Verucca has always been a more competent leader for R, I think she has shown how strong she is. It's a shame she got arrested too. It should be added, Verruca is beautiful and charming, even though she is a bitch.

It was beautiful to see Peregrine "dying", all he did in this game was spoil it. I wish he would never come back, but we both know that won't happen. I also hate that "love" of father and son that Jam City makes us swallow. The Peregrine is going to get redemption, he's evil because of the amulet, that's becoming clear and that's so bad in the script, honestly, it sucks.

MY CUTE BABIES ❤️

Very cute Merula with shame to say that her family is the MC. Thanks Ben for that wonderful question. Here, an apology from Merula to Ben would go down well, but Jam City wouldn't give her that evolution, of course.

Finally, I confess that my heart warmed when I saw my favorite trio from Year 6 together again ❤️. I missed you. It was so much love to see them complete the Khanna Circle quest. I just wanted to say that Ben, you are beautiful being the battle leader, that's all, Ben is one of the best characters on this drug, what an evolution, what a man.

That's it, it was crap. A hug to everyone!

[redhairedgryffindor]

Peregrine Fall off the Bridge scenes

[what-is-going-on-help]

I knew it! I knew it! I knew they would pull some “hogwarts is my true family” crap with Merula’s vow. Oh gee, what a shock Verucca’s overly ambiguous wording would result in something like this when it was most convenient for the plot!

[libellule-ao3]

🤣🤣🤣

I love it!

Team R!

[ariparri]

Cardverse To Do List

There's so much to do when it comes to making an alternate universe (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) So much world building and lore to work with. Especially for the characters! (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)

I’m gonna keep removing and adding things to this list as time goes by. And of course, I’m a slow worker so things will take a while. Mostly the stories I write because I’m a bad writer (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) The list isn’t numbered either because I don’t work well with a schedule, these will all be done at random when I feel motivated to work on them!

Liz Ace of Clubs Design/Introduction

Fred & George Joker Designs/Introduction

Card Portraits excluding Queens

Rakepick Backstory & Motive

Peregrine Spades Design

Talbott Clubs Design

Jae Spades Design

Andre Diamonds Design

Ismelda & Beatrice Joker Designs

Erika Rath Jack's Guard Design

Veruca & Orion's First meeting (story)

Coby's Assassination (story)

Kazuhiro Shiratori introduction & design

Verucca Buckthorn-Snyde introduction & design

Chester Diamonds Design

Carson Diamonds/Spades Design

Story of the Jokers

You can find more Cardverse related content with the #hphm cardverse tag. You can even check out the masterlist in my blog!

[burkeandblops]

EUSTACE BURKE AGE: 41 BIRTHDAY: August 7, 1945 GENDER: non-binary BLOOD STATUS: Pure blood PREVIOUS SCHOOL: Hogwarts School, Slytherin OCCUPATION: Healer at St. Mungos ALLEGIANCE: The Cabal MAGICAL SPECIALIZATION: Necromancer SUGGESTED FACE CLAIMS: Oscar Isaac

PENSIEVE

Eustace Burke was born into the Burke Family, a lineage with strong ties to the dark arts and the Slytherin house. His parents, Boudicea and Leopold Burke didn't have any other children, and he was his uncle Caractacus favourite nephew since he was a child. With a lot of potential in his blood and the expectations of the family on him, it was only obvious that he was sorted into the Slytherin house when he joined Hogwarts.

Eustace grew up having a special disposition toward potions and herbology, being his favorite subjects at school. He didn't have to make much effort to do right in his studies or make friends wherever he went, as he possessed a certain charm and disposition with everybody that approached him. This bright and charming side he developed after seeing how his family had more of a brooding and dark attitude towards people, making it hard for them to thrive in some circles.

Deep inside, Eustace wanted to be liked, admired, and adored, so he made sure to work on the right connections at school, and detach, in some way, from the usual Slytherin reputation of being intimidating and cunning. Don't get him wrong, he IS all those things, but he doesn't see the need in showing them, especially if what he wants to do is achieve greatness and more power.

So, it wasn't weird that when Voldemort started gaining popularity, Eustace was there, not first but certainly in line to cooperate. He wasn't a death eater per se, but he liked to see himself as a collaborator. In his mind, joining the most powerful side at the moment was winning in all aspects. Thanks to his last name, as well as his credentials, he was appointed the role of spy, working at St. Mungos applying his knowledge as a healer, and developing connections with Order of the Phoenix members, as well as the Ministry.

During this time of affiliation with the death eaters, he was careful not to be too visible as one, understanding the implications for his popularity in case there was a downfall... which was the case. Somehow, he came out unscathed but disappointed in the sloppiness of putting all his eggs in one basket... Until he caught wind, through his good friend Verucca Buckthorn-Snyde of a new revolution: The Cabal.

Joining such a select secret society not only was attractive to him, but it was also the kind of power and control he was craving. His charms and being friends with people in high places allowed Eustace to get a place of importance and power in the Cabal, still keeping his "cover" job as a healer at St Mungo's, he's always in the loop of the latest happenings in the wizarding world. His allegiance to the Cabal may seem fickle to some, but deep inside he sees the project as part of him and his loyalty now lies with that secretive crowd.

For Eustace, the war seems to be just starting, and keeping tabs on all the key players is essential for survival.

PERSONALITY

Elegant, charming and incredibly smart, Eustace never passes ignore in any social gathering or visit he pays. Being the embodiment of what a true gentleman should be holds a dark past and a rather complicated character: full of prejudices, he always finds all faults in everybody but him and finds it hard to accept his own flaws. He's got distant manners, and his large personal sense of pride, expresses itself pretty often as arrogance, but inside, he is a really caring man, willing to do anything for the ones he loves most (but these people he can count with the fingers of ONE hand).

On a bad day Eustace is silent, sharp like a knife, say the wrong thing and he'll have the perfect and most hurtful remark brought from the past to hit where it hurts the most. However, getting to this instance with him is very hard. Aware of these dark tendencies, instead of giving in, he suppresses all negative impulses and keeps them to himself, image is everything and he would not risk hurting a profitable relationship for a simple anger bust. But the anger is there and he is scared of the repercussions it may have if he lets the beast out.

On the other hand, on a good day, which is almost every day, Eustace shows a helpful, charming facade. Getting people to trust and confide in him is one of his favourite things, and feeling needed by others drives him. Working in the "service" industry has taught him that the power of words is even stronger than some spells (although, he specializes in nonverbal magic as well, just for the economy of words).

Amortentia The ocean, beach sand and tropical summer nights

Boggart Being ignored and not listened to

Campbell’s character archetypes The everyman. Seeks connections and belonging; is recognized as supportive, faithful and down-to-earth.

Celtic zodiac Salmon - Intuitive, goal-oriented and fun-loving

Chinese zodiac Rooster - Punctual, sense of humor, caring.

Patronus An eagle

Western zodiac Sun in Leo - Eager for attention, charming, the soul of the party, enthusiastic, entrepreneurial, and a leader by nature. Vain and a little careless with other people's feelings. Scorpio Rising - Cunning in appearance, sharp, interesting, and enigmatic at times. Looks like someone you would confide all your secrets to, deep inside all he wants is to use those secrets to manipulate you. Moon in Leo - Needs validation and public recognition for his achievements. Seeks security in the world through his social status and career. Nurtures others through his work and voluntary role.

[adesanguiniiis]

&& ----- Of course it would be Verucca of all people to have heard Adeline's complaints. She wishes things that Verucca did didn't affect her so much, but the unresolved issues between them didn't help in this regard. On the one hand, old fondness was a distraction to Adeline. On the other... Verucca was a far different person than the one Adeline had known years ago. They had grown apart and grown into much different people. It was a tricky thing to navigate, especially with political pressures mounting between all factions of the Wizarding Community.

And besides, being called a "grinch" was the least of Adeline's worries. And yet... it was irritating enough that Adeline decided to address it instead of simply walking away.

"That's rich," she says in reply, debating on an eye-roll and deciding against it. "I don't seem to recall you being the type for merry and bright cheer, Ms Buckthorn-Snyde." ----- &&

Verucca was stepping out the shop, she bought somethings for her own home. She haven't seen Adeline in quite a while, she couldn't help but smile little.

"You are the Grinch, did you know that?" That was such a hypocritical comment, because is well known that if someone hates Christmas that's verucca.

She got a little closer to Adeline, they had a couple not resolved things... But it was Christmas time, Verucca was trying to be animated maybe she was a whole new person now, maybe she'll enjoy Christmas this time.

[carewyncromwell]

“Evil's for me -- you can have good. It doesn't suit me to be Robin Hood!”

x~x~x~x

HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri​​ ♠️

x~x~x~x

It was common knowledge in the Kingdom of Hearts that their Queen, Carewyn, had originally been from the Country of Spades. What was less common knowledge was her rationale for leaving home...and the woman who helped spur that decision on in the first place.

Carewyn Cromwell first met the woman who would become known as the Tyrant of Spades while she was still merely the Ace under the previous King of Spades, Coby McQuaid. She sadly hadn’t gotten to know the King very well before his well-publicized assassination, but she had become close to the Jack of Spades, Duncan Ashe, through her brother Jacob. Jacob’s genius intellect had served Duncan and by extension Coby very well, helping spark new reforms and innovations in chemistry, architecture, machinery, and even food preservation, so Jacob was given permission by Duncan often enough to bring his precious little sister to work with him so that he could show her his progress, as well as just to spoil her rotten while she was in the capitol.

It was on one of these outings where Jacob first brought Carewyn up into the royal zeppelin that Carewyn first collided with Patricia Rakepick. The Ace of Spades had been engaged in conversation elsewhere when she caught part of a conversation between the Jack and his companions.

“...is all well and good,” said Carewyn, “but no matter how much we might advance in technology, it’ll be people who will have the power to use it -- many of whom won’t use it wisely.”

“But one man’s advancement will ultimately benefit us all, Wyn,” Jacob said earnestly. “Every new discovery opens up new doorways -- fresh knowledge, to be built on by future generations! With the improvements we’ve made to steam power, we may even be able to make this new power source self-sustainable -- making expensive refueling a thing of the past!”

"Yes...and that is a good thing, Jacob, it really is,” Carewyn said, “but not everyone sees your work as something to improve the lives of the common man. I wouldn’t even say most do. They see it as something they can apply to weapons of war.”

Rakepick’s gaze flickered over her shoulder in the direction of the conversation.

“War?” recurred Duncan, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Where did you hear that?”

“Military officers are very talkative when they think no one’s paying attention,” Carewyn said very coolly. “I suppose they think the ‘pretty little shopgirl’ behind the counter is too empty-headed to care about what they have to say.”

Rakepick turned away to obscure her smile hearing this. This girl is sharp.

“I’m afraid I must cut this short,” she said dryly to the person she’d been speaking to. “Excuse me.”

She turned and made her way over to the corner of the room where Carewyn, Jacob, and Duncan were still talking.

“The court of Spades isn’t really entertaining the idea of war, is it, Ashe?” Jacob asked Duncan. His brows were knit tightly over his eyes. “What possible reason could they have for it?”

“Not a good one,” Duncan said dryly.

“Greed and self-aggrandizement never is,” Carewyn remarked cynically. “That doesn’t mean people don’t still act on it -- especially when we all know that when rich men start wars, it’s the poor who die in them.”

The Jack of Spades was frowning deeply as he considered this.

“...The King has no interest in declaring war on anyone,” he said after a moment. “He’s always sought out peace. However many people in the military might be itching for a fight, they won’t get one, with him at the helm.”

“That’s not good enough!” said Carewyn, her expression deeply troubled. “The King is a noble man...but he can’t trust people like that to do the right thing, if push comes to shove. If the army can’t stand behind him united, then it will crumble from within.”

“I have to agree.”

Duncan, Jacob, and Carewyn all turned, startled, when Rakepick finally entered their circle. Her dark blue eyes surveyed Carewyn carefully as her lips curled up in a small smirk.

“Would this be the famous Carewyn I’ve heard you speak so glowingly of, Master Cromwell?” she asked.

Jacob’s eyes flitted from Rakepick to Carewyn and back.

“...Yes,” he said after a moment.

“Then you would still be in school, Miss Cromwell?” said Rakepick. “How old are you, if I may ask?”

“Fifteen, as of this September,” Carewyn said politely.

Rakepick raised her eyebrows. “Just fifteen? And already quoting the likes of Jean-Paul Sartre. Most impressive.”

Carewyn felt Jacob bring an arm around her, his hand enclosing over her shoulder. Duncan crossed his arms, cocking his eyebrows at Rakepick. 

“That’s high praise from the Ace of Spades,” the Jack remarked rather sardonically. “Especially considering that Carewyn was critiquing the army you oversee.”

Rakepick’s eyes flashed in Duncan’s direction. “What can I say, I like seeing young women who aren’t afraid to speak their minds. It rather reminds me of myself, in a way.”

Her eyes drifted back over to Carewyn as she smiled again.

“You and I agree that the army should be loyal to its ruler,” said the Ace. “Tell me -- how would you inspire such loyalty, in the men that you have seen among its ranks?”

Carewyn crossed her arms. Her eyes drifted off out the closest window.

“You can’t inspire loyalty in people who are only out for their own self-interest,” Carewyn answered lowly.

“And yet these are the soldiers we have,” said Rakepick. “Until our whole army is nothing but mechanical soldiers, we must instill some loyalty in them.”

“You can instill obedience, but not loyalty,” Carewyn corrected. “Loyalty is a feeling, more than an action. It’s sincere devotion to someone else -- love, dedication, admiration. It’s respecting the person, or thing, or cause you’re fighting for...honoring them and everything they stand for, even when it’s in direct opposition to what benefits you. Willingly sacrificing for their sake, simply because you want to do right by them.”

Her almond-shaped blue eyes grew a little smaller.

“Those are things a selfish person could never understand.”

Rakepick’s eyes ran critically over Carewyn’s face, even as her lips spread into a broader, yet still rather arrogant smile.

“And so such men could only be compelled to stay and fight out of fear for their own livelihood, not out of duty to someone else. Well reasoned.”

“Madam Ace!”

An attendant had abruptly rushed up to her, carrying a gilded envelope. Rakepick took it from him with an oddly miffed glare, before plastering on another cool smile as she addressed Carewyn again.

“Please excuse me, Miss Cromwell -- it seems my attention is needed elsewhere,” she said crisply.

“Of course, Madam,” Carewyn said with a clipped nod.

Rakepick extended a hand, which Carewyn reluctantly took so she could shake it.

“Thank you for your stimulating conversation,” said Rakepick with a dewy smile. “I sincerely hope that you shall return to the capitol soon, so that we might speak further.”

Carewyn avoided her gaze, instead keeping it on their interlocked hands.

“...Thank you.”

Even after Rakepick released her hand, Carewyn still felt a weird, cold, uncomfortable shudder in her hand -- one that made her want to wash her hand immediately after.

“Be mindful, Carewyn,” Duncan told her very solemnly.

Carewyn looked at him, startled. She’d never heard his voice sound quite so low before.

“Patricia Rakepick is not a person who’s easy to impress,” he said. “She was chosen as Ace for how much fear and respect she’s instilled in the army, so she’s not someone who plays nice with others. And yet it seems she’s taken a real shine to you. Most would say you should consider yourself very fortunate.”

Carewyn’s brows knit over her eyes.

“Would you say I am?” she asked softly.

Duncan’s eyes narrowed on Rakepick’s retreating back.

“...I don’t know,” he said at last.

He looked at Carewyn, his dark eyes oddly grim.

“I know how the Ace of Spades treats those she sees as beneath her. I don’t know anything about how she treats those few people she actually likes.”

~*~

Several years later, Rakepick took control of the Country of Spades, first as a quasi-regent and then as a “Queen” herself. It was this act that prompted many people to refer to her as “the Tyrant of Spades” -- and it was not long after she took full control that her new Jack of Spades, Verucca Buckthorn-Snyde, brought back a rather interesting message from the court of the Kingdom of Hearts.

“Their new Queen has requested an audience with you,” Verucca said coldly, holding out a letter with a red-rose-decked wax seal.

Rakepick scoffed.

“Has she now?” she said with an arrogant smirk.

She handed her glass of red wine to her attendant so she could take the letter from Verucca and rip open the envelope. 

“She told me to pass along her disappointment that you would hide behind your courtiers,” Verucca added, her eyes flashing with distaste. “The young lady also made a point to lament that you didn’t have the previous Jack of Spades advocating on your behalf.”

Rakepick’s smirk only seemed to broaden. “Comparing you to your predecessor and insinuating that I’m a coward? That takes real cheek.”

She opened the letter and began to read. Once she did, however, her arrogant smirk slowly faded.

To Her Excellency, the former Ace of Spades and current Queen, from Her Majesty, the Queen of Hearts;

Madam --

My counterpart, the King of Hearts, has recently received word that you will abstain from the Passion Ball set to be held at the Palace of Hearts this upcoming winter. Please know that your presence will be felt, if not missed.

I had hoped to speak more cordially in person, but since you’ve seen fit to send others in your stead, these words I have will have to be restrained to just this page. I don’t fully understand the motivations behind your sudden withdrawal from the world stage, nor what you hope to gain by so ruthlessly fortifying your borders -- but whatever they are, I assure you, you make no friends, treating your citizens like prisoners. The world outside sees your actions as cruelty, and although I can glean nothing of how your own people view you thanks to your efforts, I was once one of them, so I can only surmise that they’re similarly displeased. Like any wild beast that yearns to run free, they won’t take kindly to the jailer that has imprisoned them -- so truly, it’s in your best interest to loosen your grip, and set free those whom you’ve imprisoned. Jacob Cromwell would be a good man to start with.

My deepest condolences go out to Duncan Ashe’s family, as well as whatever friends he had that remain at your court. I grieve him as I would a brother, and it disheartens me that you would pick a replacement for him who has no sense of honor or compassion.

Signed,

Carewyn R

Rakepick read over the letter once more, her expression oddly unreadable. Then, when she’d finished, her lips curled up in a much colder smirk than before.

“Take this down,” she said curtly.

The attendant hurriedly scrambled to grab some parchment and a pen so that he could copy what Rakepick said aloud to him,

“‘To Her Majesty, the newly Crowned Queen of Hearts, from her Majesty, the Queen of Spades;

‘Miss Cromwell --

‘I must say, you have impressed me yet again. I always knew you belonged at the court of a royal -- I had merely thought that that court would be mine, rather than in the Kingdom of Hearts. But I suppose it’s as you once said yourself: I could never command any loyalty from you. It’s just a shame that you have seemingly divested yourself of any such loyalty to your home country, as well. But it seems that the world has finally seen the potential I saw in you from the start. A shame that I couldn’t capitalize on it when I had the chance.

‘I regret to say that your brother is no longer in my custody, however much I wish he still was. He disappeared from his cell not too long ago, and I’ve yet to hear any further news of him. If you hear anything of him, I hope that you’ll let me know...but otherwise, I’m afraid I can’t help you.

‘As to my motives, I’m confident in saying that they are the same as yours. I shall protect what’s mine -- just as I’m sure you likewise wish to protect the throne and people you’ve taken as your own. I would’ve extended that same protection to you, had you chosen to stay in Spades. You would’ve made an excellent Ace yourself, if one follows your qualifications for a courtier -- though I might’ve proposed guarding your heart more, in such a role. Such sensitivity is rife to be taken advantage of. And from one Queen to another, I would say it still is, in the role you have now.

‘Enjoy your little ball, Miss Cromwell. Take care not to let your heart run away with you -- your position as Queen ordains you choose your country’s needs over whatever trifles you might seek from me.

Regards,

Her Majesty, Patricia Rakepick, Queen of the Country of Spades.’”

Once the attendant had finished writing the letter and putting it in an envelope with a black wax seal of an upside-down spade, Rakepick gestured for Verucca to take it.

“Bring that back with you when you return to the Kingdom of Hearts,” she said coolly. “And when you give it to her Majesty, be sure to express my regret, that I had to miss her coronation.”

Verucca took the envelope and slipped it into her interior coat pocket, her eyebrows raised sardonically. “Do I detect sarcasm, Patricia?”

“I’m quite sincere,” said Rakepick, though her voice still sounded oddly passive-aggressive. “Miss Cromwell has always been rather disinterested in parties -- I’m sure not having her brother there to keep her company made it quite a bit less enjoyable...”

Her dark blue eyes flashed with a strange glint.

“If she’d only stayed here rather than fled...perhaps then she’d have both status and her family, as she so clearly wishes.”

“Status as a courtier, you mean?” Verucca said coldly. “Don’t think I didn’t catch that you thought to bestow your old position to a mere child.”

“Tone down your condescension, Jack of Spades,” Rakepick answered pitilessly. “That child has advanced to a position most maids her age can only dream of. Your niece included.”

Verucca’s thin lips knit together tightly, but otherwise her face remained very stony as she gave Rakepick a clipped bow and left the room.

Rakepick lounged back on the throne that had once belonged to Coby McQuaid, resting her chin on her hand as she glanced out the closest window.

Perhaps it was fitting that Carewyn ended up a queen in her own right. She’d never sought out any leader to follow or mentor to idolize, even as a mere maid of sixteen. That mature, independent, self-sufficient streak was part of what had reminded Rakepick so much of herself, from the very beginning.

Carewyn Cromwell, like Rakepick, was not meant to follow others. She was destined to be a queen.

[helenadurazzo]

Experimentation

Part two of my rewrite for Year Seven, Chapter 51, major spoilers ahead for this chapter, also as the story goes on, there is angst, especially in this part

Some Nicknames and Aliases for R Members

Raijin -> The Leader, R, Rage

Zacharias -> The Overseer, Stygian

Verucca -> The Director, Chameleon

Pietro -> The Poison Brewer, Stonewall

Patricia -> The Curse Breaker, Flare

Kazuhiro -> The White Robed Wizard

Merula -> The Director’s Niece, Blight

Helena was now surrounded by members of R and, as she lost her wand somewhere during the ambush by Verucca Buckthorn-Snyde, at the quidditch pitch. The plan was for her and Jacob to intercept a secretive test R was going to perform, however it backfired tremendously. Somehow, her brother managed to not be found and captured by the Director, so she supposed there was a sliver of hope. Still, she was not quite sure if she would ever see her wand again, or the light of day for that matter, as R’s headquarters hosted nothing but darkness within its walls and dimly lit interior. She was never a strong dueler, however even someone not skilled with offensive spells knew it

was better to have a wand then not have one. If only she had bothered to learn wandless magic, she thought. Perhaps she might have had a chance to stop the horrors that were destined to occur.

She looked helplessly at Erika, still dressed in her emerald green Holyhead Harpies quidditch uniform. She was standing opposite of her with an R member on either side of her. Even though, like Helena, she was not restrained, it would be foolish to try and run while being surrounded by so many powerful dark witches and wizards. The only option either of them had was apparation, thankfully both had their license and it was clear that there was no anti-apparation placed on the building due to a member of R apparating in every five or so minutes. However, Helena knew full well that she would not save herself through apparation if it meant leaving Erika behind,

and by the fact that Erika had not tried to escape by that method either meant the feeling was mutual.

Suddenly, they were joined by the infamous leader of R and two other high ranking members of R that Helena had always assumed were his most trusted colleagues based on the stories she heard from Jacob. Everyone she had ever met had either referred to the leader of R as either R or Rage, however both gave out the same feeling of mystery and fear. He was a young looking man of Japanese origin with long pitch black hair and dark brown eyes, however Jacob claimed that he was most likely older than he actually looked. Jacob always told her there were many things about him that even his most trusted advisors did not know, however, one thing they knew for certain was

that he was a descendant of Dai Ryusaki.

The man with greasy black hair and almost glowing brown eyes that walked on the right side of the leader of R was one that Helena knew unfortunately all to well from family gatherings. She did not see Zacharias Hearst much, however, even as a small child she knew there was more to him and plenty of dark secrets he was hiding. Apparently, the building they were standing in, was rumored to be his hideout and the host for many of R’s meetings and gatherings when not in the darkest corners of Knockturn Alley. For a while, she and Jacob managed to get an inside look on R by intercepting letters written to him about R’s new findings and meetings.

However, they assumed their little secret was found out as the letters became more and more sparse, still, it gave them enough information to come up with their original plan to take down R once they found the Sunken Vault. There, they had been ambushed by her former defense against the dark arts professor and two other R colleagues, however, they were able to capture Patricia Rakepick and one of her two colleagues, while the other managed to get away with a box of ancient treasures that now sat on a table next to a cauldron of bubbling liquid being stirred by an older man with grayish red hair and circular glasses. Helena now realized that retrieving this chest was R’s

plan all along, it did not matter who got captured, as long as they could retrieve the artifacts they so deeply desired.

The woman on the left of the leader was another figure Helena recognized. She had gray hair that made her look way older than she actually was, with only a bit of orange hair left in the form of her bangs, a Snyde family trait. Helena had first seen her during a failed ambush of R at Knockturn Alley which ended with only a few minor members of R being captured, yet the interrogations proved they knew nothing of importance. However, it did confirm to her of Merula’s betrayal of the Circle of Khanna causing for Ben and her to make an executive descision to ban her as Merula had chosen the murders who stole Rowan

Khanna away from them, rather than her classmates, some of which who even tried to extend a hand of friendship despite her previous actions, however, Helena recognized that unlike many of her storybooks, Merula was incapable of any redemption at this point, having rejected it too many times.

Helena watched as the leader looked at her sternly, “We tried to warn you, just like we did your brother. However, it seems that we must once again show you the consequences of opposing us, just like we did with your brother.”

“Then again I am personally not surprised by your disobedience, especially considering how rebellious your mother is.” Helena heard her great uncle comment which made Helena hold in a snort. He certainly had an interesting view of what disobedience was. “First she embarrassed the family by not being sorted into Slytherin, then pursued a childish dream as a career, and finished it off by marrying a filthy squib.”

“Let me propose you one final offer.” The leader spoke to her in the same tone he did before. “If you join us and swear to be loyal to R and only R, we will let your companion go free.”

“What’s the catch?” Helena hesitantly asked.

“I believe you are well aware.” Her great uncle informed her with a cocky smirk.

Helena honestly could see why her family despised her great uncle with some even fearing him. She remembered her aunt telling her and her brother over the holidays when they asked her if she knew anything about Zacharias and his possible acts of dark magic, with her only being able to tell them about a story where Zacharias would obliviate anyone who found out too much, being one of the best with the charm in his generation. He could easily implant false memories into anyone he encountered and the concept frightened her to the bone.

Helena looked towards her girlfriend, who, while not saying anything, did give her a look of sympathy, appearing willing to accept the decision she was about to make. However, Helena knew full well that the decision she was about to make would determine if she would be able to see Erika again. She figured it was selfish either way, for different reasons, but she figured the most bold decision was the proper one.

“I will never join you.” She sternly spat.

“So be it.” The leader accepted as he turned to the man near the cauldron and gave him a silent nod.

The older red haired man held a wand made of a brownish wood, “walnut wand, phoenix feather, unyielding, and thirteen inches in length.” The man verbally described the wand to the crowd, “a perfectly powerful wand to finish this potion, I thank you, Stygian.” The man finished before he turned back to cauldron and waved the wand over it, while muttering some spell Helena could not define, however something felt strangely familiar about that wand, Helena just could not put her finger on it.

“Do you recognize the wand?” She heard her great uncle suddenly ask. “I would not be surprised if you didn’t, after all, you were raised by your mother, the least traditional and worst Hearst in the entire family.”

Finally, it clicked for Helena once she ran through a mental recount of all of the wands stored in her grandfather’s home. She rarely went there, but when she did, she could not help but observe the wands of her ancestors, including her great grandfather, Phineas Hearst, who she now remembered, possessed a wand of that same description.

“How did you get your filthy hands on that wand?” Helena demanded.

“Oh calm down.” He casually replied. “Just asked my dearest younger brother if I could borrow it. When he said no, I took matters into my own hands. Do not worry, he is fine, he simply just does not recall the encounter, that’s all.”

It had seemed that during her banter with her great uncle, the man near the cauldron had given the potion to a younger member of R, a woman who looked to be around Gwenog’s age with pale skin, brown eyes, and short golden blonde hair, who had already placed the Crown of Mneme on her head. Something about her seemed familiar, perhaps if she and Erika made it out alive she could ask Gwenog. It was most likely just a student at Hogwarts who overlapped with her by two or three years that was on the popular side which allowed her to be recognizable even to younger kids, however, who the wearer of the crown was, meant little to Helena now.

“Now,” Helena heard the leader of R order, “Stand in front of Miss Rath and allow your feelings of negativity to flow like rushing water.”

“Don’t you dare!” Helena found herself snapping loudly, trying to free herself, hoping to manage to grab something and whack the young woman with the crown before it was too late. Was it foolish? Probably, but it was a worthless effort as two members of R held her back before she could do anything.

“Hmph.” She heard the leader begin, supposedly seeming unimpressed, “A childish demeanor like this is not suitable for a member of R, behave yourself”

“Take me instead!” Helena sacrificed herself, knowing full well that this was her first, not Erika’s

“Helena don’t.” Erika insisted sternly, accepting her fate, “I will not let you.”

Helena wanted to protest further, however, overhearing the wearer of the crown’s make a sudden comment distracted her, “I feel pain, heartbreak, anger…” she heard through grunts, “the dementors of Azkaban… my worst memories…”

The Sunken Vault! Helena did not know why she did not think of it sooner. She had deciphered that the crown most likely came from the collection of treasures R stole when Helena and her team encountered them at the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts, she herself even facing her own worst memories in that vault, which seemed to be an amplified version of what she faced in her third year. Helena tried again to stop the procedure, yet every time she moved, the members of R restraining her made sure she made little progress, it seemed hopeless, absolutely hopeless.

“Excellent!” The leader exclaimed with what seemed to be pride, something that disgusted Helena as the crown started to spark, “Now, Miss Court, channel those feelings into Miss Rath!” He demanded loudly and with a fierce force, “Now!”

Everything from there seemed like a blur. She watched helplessly as a beam of pure white light that acted like lightening came out from the crown and struck Erika in the chest continuously, only stopping when Helena heard someone yell out “Stupefy!”

It was enough distraction for her to escape her restraints and take cover. When the golden blonde woman fell to the stunning spell, the crown briefly sputtered out a few remnants of power before it eventually wore off. As a crowd of aurors came rushing in, picking duels with the members of R, she briefly caught a glimpse of Erika on the ground, seemingly not moving, although the distance could have contributed to that. However, her vision soon became blocked as duels broke out.

“Thought you might need this.” She heard the voice of her brother say next to her, placing a familiar object into her hand.

Helena looked down to see her wand in her hand and back up at Jacob, “Thank you, but how-“

“Later.” He interrupted her, “come on, let’s take down R, together, once and for all.”

Helena nodded before she followed her brother back into what had now become a battle field. She fought alongside him, firing off a number of spells and watched triumphantly as wands flew out of their hands, others falling to the floor, and others simply being distracted just long enough for an auror to cast incarcerous and apparate that auror to some other location for them to be detained, only for that auror to return shortly after to continue fighting and repeat the cycle, allowing for the number of aurors to eventually overtake the members of R.

It was certainly a challenge to duel when she was so distracted and not even a strong dueler in the first place, at least compared to her brother. When it came to the idea of dueling, her opinion was almost identical to her mother’s with only prioritizing on defensive spells and instead pouring all of her attention into the study of herbology, even though the cursed vaults and dealing with R stopped her from doing that most of the time.

She tried to find Erika among the chaos but failed to do so. It had seemed that between her time taking cover when the ambush occurred and her getting her wand back and fighting off members of R, Erika had managed to disappear. The fact concerned Helena as she figured there was no way Erika had enough strength to apparate on her own in the case that she was still conscious after being struck by the power of the Crown of Mneme.

Soon enough, the dark room only consisted of her, Jacob, her mother’s cousin and his son, Joseph and Toby and surprisingly her aunt along a few other Aurors who whom she had not noticed before.

“That should be the last of them.” She heard her aunt Cynthia assure Jacob.

“Good work.” Jacob satisfyingly replied, turning to Uncle Joseph, “Thanks for getting all of the Aurors together so quickly, I know it was not an easy task.”

“Not a problem at all.” Joseph assured him, “It is always a relief and a pleasure when we can take down one of these organizations, and it’s why we are always prepared to do so at short notice.” He then turned to his cousin, “You know you did not have to join us, you are on holiday with your family after all.”

Aunt Cynthia chuckled at his comment, “and let you and Olivia have all of the fun? No way.”

“Wait…” Helena reacted as she turned to her brother, “You allowed Mum to come here!? Why? She could have gotten hurt!”

“I know it was a risk.” Jacob admitted, “but I needed someone who could apparate you and Erika out in the case that one or both of you were injured before anything worse could happen. Mum was the first person who came to mind, you know she always told us how she was a prodigy when it came to Apparation. Plus, she is good friends with many of the healers at Saint Mungos, with her level of influence, she could get you and Erika to receive the proper care, we did not know what could have happened in the time you were in R’s hands.”

“I actually volunteered to come to help protect her.” Aunt Cynthia revealed, “Unlike Joseph and Toby I’m not an official auror for the British Ministry of Magic anymore and have not been since I married your uncle. It gave me a tad bit more flexibility allowing Joseph and Toby to help the others get more R members into custody faster. The plan always was for your mother to get out of there if there was no need for her. We found Erika pretty quickly and as her condition looked to be bad and Jacob had spotted you earlier and you seemed to be in good health and condition, she went ahead and apparated Erika to Saint Mungos for medical attention.”

“Honestly, she did quite well considering that stunning charm she cast was able to stop the affects of the crown.” Toby noted.

“Speaking of the crown.” Helena began, sounding concerned, “Where is it? Do not tell me a member of R still has their hands on it.”

“Relax.” Toby assured her, “I have it right here.” He said as she showed her the crown that she supposed he had been holding to this whole time, yet Helena hadn’t managed to notice.

“Me and Toby are going to take it to the ministry for safe keeping.” Uncle Joseph explained. “We will how some professionals examine the crown and determine the best course of action.”

Helena nodded as she heard her brother speak again, “I assume you want to go to Saint Mungos?”

“Yes.” Helena confirmed.

“I will go with you two.” Aunt Cynthia commented, “to make sure my sister is ok.”

“Catch up with you soon Cynth,” Uncle Joseph bid farewell before apparating away with Toby.

“It will be safer to do a joint Apparation.” Aunt Cynthia instructed, “it is a long distance after all.”

“Alright,” Jacob agreed while Helena silently nodded as the three grabbed each other’s hands, with aunt Cynthia leading the apparation.

Soon enough, the three of them were in the main waiting area of Saint Mungos. Helena watched as healers dressed in green robes scurried about. Scattered throughout the room were patients with a variety of conditions. A lot of them seemed to be magical mishaps such as one person floating in the air and another having the face of cat. However, eventually she spotted her mother, talking with one of the healers in a corner of the waiting room, although by the time they approached, the healer had already left and went back to where the patients were kept.

Her mother had seemed to sense their approaching and turned to them with a smile, “Good news is that she is going to be ok, the healers predict she will gain consciousness before the end of the day if everything else goes smoothly. However, as it was an injury caused by a magical artifact they don’t have a lot of knowledge on, they’d like to monitor her for a couple of days after that.”

Helena instinctively embraced her mother, “Thank you, …you did not have to do this”

Helena felt her mother returned the embrace and run her hand through Helena’s long dyed dark blue hair, “I know that Lena but I had to, for you. Now you need to rest, you have been through a lot…”

[missnight0wl]

Alright, if we already talk about the recent stupidity of HPHM, let’s talk about Merula – because every time she whines about her Unbreakable Vow, I’m like:

So, in Y7Ch53, Merula basically couldn’t shut up about her stupid Vow:

(...)

And I know that JC does it, so we’d feel sorry for poor little Mewuwa, but like… I can only laugh. Because it’s so fucking stupid if you only think about it for a moment.

Soooo… Merula can’t disobey Verucca, right? Cool. Let’s go back to Y7Ch15:

And then in Y7Ch16:

So… How Merula wasn’t scared to send her note, basically standing up to Verucca? And how the reply talks about the consequences next time? Shouldn’t she drop dead when she crossed them the first time? I know she said her Vow is not to R, but we know that she was staying in touch with R through Verucca.

Ok, but let’s move on. So, Merula can’t go against her aunt, can she? But apparently, she’s not scared to physically attack her. Let me remind you the scene from Y7Ch27:

Even the end of Y6 becomes incredibly stupid because of that Unbreakable Vow.

It can be interpreted in two ways:

Merula didn’t know she’s taking orders from Verucca which means that the Unbreakable Vow was absolutely pointless because Merula was obedient either way, just because o the power she was promised. If JC really needed to involve the Unbreakable Vow, they should’ve made Merula make it after that meeting in Knockturn Alley.

Merula was doing everything, knowing that she HAS TO do it because of the Unbreakable Vow. However, it means that she and Verucca are full of shit when they say Merula’s proven that she’s worthy because… no, she hasn’t! She literally had no choice, just like she keeps whining about it right now.

Seriously, the whole Unbreakable Vow plotline is just so… incredibly pathetic. I’d love to see someone from JC try to make any sense of it when confronted with actual questions. 

It’s also pathetic that they’re probably so excited already about surprising everyone with this stupid “plot twist” that the Vow doesn’t work because Merula doesn’t consider Verucca her “true family”.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

omg Merula made an unbreakable vow with Verucca before she even knew her aunt worked for R! and Verucca’s been using it to force Merula to do things she didn’t want to do and hurt people or she’d die. we don’t know the whole story yet but if it’s true then this changes a lot. it’s kind of hard to blame Merula if she’s telling the truth especially if she was forced into taking the vow which she probably was knowing Verucca. i know there’s a chance that she’s lying especially how she’s lied before but i’m not sure if she’d lie about this.

Oh look, here comes that one single flimsy excuse I needed totally and utterly forgive Merula for everything and go back to loving her! Ahaha, the day is saved! My conscience is clear!

...Okay, okay, it's not that simple. First of all...she could be lying. Like, let's not discount that possibility. Goodness knows that she's lied about so much. But like always, I am inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. (Even knowing that to do so is unwise at this point.) I'll assume she's telling the truth at least in part. She may, for instance, be lying about what she knew when she took the Vow. Or she might not be. It remains to be seen.

...and now my heart is breaking, because I know how this story is going to end. Merula is going to violate her Vow, and give her life in the process. She's going to have a change of heart, and fully commit to helping MC and/or standing up to R. And it's going to kill her. I may be wrong, and goodness knows that I hope I am. But I can feel the direction that the wind is blowing, and this seems to be where Merula's story is headed now that we know this.

It's tricky because we don't entirely know the circumstances, but I still am assuming that Merula was forced to join at a young age, probably when she was eleven. Not only that, but Verucca has shape-shifting powers. Consider this - what if she took the form of Merula's mum to fool her into taking the Vow? That's an insidious thought. We know that children can (apparently) enter into an Unbreakable Vow based on Fred and George trying to trick Fred into doing so, and how angry Arthur was about it. I don't know if the enchantment has any "clauses" to protect minors, or people who are deceived into the Vow, but there aren't any that we know of. I would love it if minors can withdraw whenever they want, the way it works in real life. If no one knew that was true because no one ever tried. But that would simply be too easy.

(As a side note, R coercing children into making Unbreakable Vows to serve them? Holy hopscotch you guys, I'm on a roll. My silly fictober story from 2019 has retroactive spoilers, and I'm gonna be riding that high for the next few hours or so.)

[redhairedgryffindor]

Quiet! I’ll deal with you after I’m through with your father.

Appeal to Dad

Appeal to Verucca

Appeal to Merula

[cursedcrusaders]

They’ve got quite the family tree huh