#when you face the end.' (Harry: You said w hat????) SEVEN-!!

[otunnicliffe]

Chloe + Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone:

Chapter Seven: The Sorting Hat

'I can't wait to see what house they are!' Gwendolyn said.

'Well we will move straight on, and find out now,' Dumbledore tells her. 

He then scans the room, looking for who he wanted to read next.

'Mr Black, would you care to read?' He asked, looking at Regulus. 

Regulus just nods in response, and went up to start reading. 

'This chapter,' he told them, 'Is entitled 'The Sorting Hat.'

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and both of the twins' first thoughts was that this was not someone to cross.

'Sounds just like you, Minnie!' Sirius said, smiling brightly at the professor. 

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

'Knew it!' Sirius called out again. 

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. They could both hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here -- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.''

'Nice to know you've kept the exact same speech from when we were in first year,' Amos says. 

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair, while Chloe tried to flatten her fringe down. Clemensia did up her tie a bit tighter, while Catherine picked up a lint ball that had lingered onto her robes. 

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber. Chloe swallowed.

'How do you get sorted into houses?' she asked Clemensia. 

'My mother told me there's an ancient hat that sits on the top of your head and that tells you,' Clemensia claimed. 

Across the hall, the same conversation was being held between Harry and Ron.

'I have a feeling the conversation will be slightly different,' Sirius remarked. 

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

'Knew it,' Sirius reiterated. 

Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any magic yet -- what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need, and his sister and the other two girls.  He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue.

James wheezed at this. 

He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.

Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air -- several people behind him screamed.

"What the --?" Lorenzo enquired. 

They gasped.

So did the people around them. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance --"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves?

'Nice to know Peeves is still causing mayhem,' Barty remarks.

He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost -- I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned.

One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, and the three girls behind them, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Chloe and Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Chloe and Harry both looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

He heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

'I read that too, its fascinating, isn't it?' Chloe whispers back to her, giving the girl a smile.

'I hope they become friends with this Hermione, she seems good,' Gwendolyn says. 

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Both Chloe and Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.

'She wouldn't have it if there was any mention of wizardry at all,' Gwendolyn quips. 

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing -- noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth -- and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

All the Gryffindors in the room smiled at each other. 

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuff's are true

And unafraid of toil;

Amos and Pandora smiled at each other. 

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Barty and Xenophilius smile at each other. 

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends

The Slytherins all smiled at this.

So put me on!

Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Catherine giggled, 'Fred told you what?'

Harry. smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching, something that Chloe agreed with him on. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.

'Honestly valid, it was quite scary,' Amos said. 

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause --

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

'Berkshire, Lorenzo!' 

Lorenzo went up, and after a few minutes, the hat cried:

'SLYTHERIN!' 

Lorenzo grinned, clearly happy wiht himself and went to sit with the table on the far right, perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

'Black, Clemensia!' 

Both Chloe and Harry noted that there became a murmuring after Clemensia's name.

The hat took quite a moment with her before shouting:

'GRYFFINDOR!'

'YES!' Arabella and Sirius both celebrated. 

and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling, as Clemensia went to sit near them. 

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became a Gryffindor. 

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

Harry was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. Him and Chloe had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked them both.

'Dudley was so cruel to them!' Molly says, feeling bad for the twins. 

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, the twins both noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole ten minutes before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

'I just knew they'd be in the same house, if Ron gets in Gryffindor,' Molly recounts. 

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad,

'I have a son too?' Frank shouts, looking confused. 

'Yes, Mr Longbottom, with miss Forstue,' Dumbledore tells them. 

was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter.

'Lupin, Catherine!'

The hat took a few seconds before shouting:

'GRYFFINDOR!' 

Kimberly and Remus celebrated. 

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers again, and Catherine sat down next to Clemensia, and gave the other girl a big hug.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

Lucius celebrated this. 

There weren't many people left now.

'Nott, Theodore!' 

Chloe heard murmurs ripple again, and she also couldn't miss the shiver the boy let out at hearing his name.

'SLYTHERIN!' The hat called soon after being placed on his head. 

More and more people went, 'Parkinson' went to Slytherin, then following her were Patil twins, one went to Ravenclaw and one went to Gryffindor. 

Then finally:

'Potter, Chloe!'

'This is it James!' Gwendolyn announced, gripping the boy's arm tightly. 

As Chloe stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

''The Chloe Potter?"

'Does that mean Harry's here too?'

The last thing Chloe saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her, before her eyes captured Mattheo again, who seemed to give her a small smile. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.

''Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, and a very intelligent mind... There's talent, my goodness, yes -- and a nice thirst to prove yourself and to look after people... now that's interesting.... So where shall I put you?"

'Wherever you want,' Chloe thought. 'That is your job after all.'

Everyone chuckled at this.

'That is true... I know.... better be... 

GRYFFINDOR!'

James and Gwendolyn celebrated. 

Chloe heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table, not before giving a reassuring smile to her brother. She was getting the biggest applause by far.  Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" She went and sat opposite the two girls, who gave her quick hugs. 

"Potter, Harry!"

'Come on, get both in Gryffindor,' James quietly pleaded. 

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him.

Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes -- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting.... So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that -- no? Well, if you're sure -- better be GRYFFINDOR!"

'YES!' James yelled, 'Both kids in Gryffindor!'

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet, apart from maybe his sister. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got both Potters! We got both Potters!" Harry sat down next to his sister, who gave him a big hug, and smiled at Clemensia and Catherine in celebration.

They could both see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught their eye and gave them both a thumbs up. The twins grinned back. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Chloe and Harry recognized him at once from the card Harry had gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

'Riddle, Mattheo!'

The Great Hall went very silent once again. Chloe could hear the whispers of fellow Gryffindor's.

'The Dark Lord's son!'

'I'll be steering clear of him!'

These made Chloe feel angry, after all he wasn't his father. If Mattheo cared, his face didn't show it. A lot of people also craned their necks to get a look at him, but he turned and looked at Chloe once again. She gave him a small smile, similar to the one he gave her before. 

'SLYTHERIN!' The hat yelled and the Slytherin's cheered. Chloe watched as he went and sat in the middle of Lorenzo and Theodore. 

And now there were only four people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Arthur and Molly cheered. 

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him. Chloe bent over Harry to give the boy a hug. 

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. 

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

'I'm hungry too,' Chloe whispered to him, obviously sensing his hunger.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. Chloe clapped alongside the other students, a concerned look upon her face. 

"Is he -- a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly.

James chuckled at this. 

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Chloe's and Harry's mouths fell open. The dishes in front of them were now piled with food. They had never seen so many things they liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved the twins, but they'd never been allowed to eat as much as they liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Chloe and Harry both piled their plates with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

'I bet it was,' Peter said. 

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you --?" Chloe asked, before stuffing a roast potato in her mouth. 

I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've in troduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you -- you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy --" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So -- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row!

'Six years,' James said, looking annoyed. 

The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable -- he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements, away from Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire. 

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Clemensia with great interest.

'Your daughter that,' Sirius remarked to Arabella.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding.

As Chloe helped herself to an eclair and Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Chloe. 

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville,

'Wait, why didn't we bring him up?' Frank asked. 

'You'll find that out in a later book, Mr Longbottom,' Dumbledore informed him.

"but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me -- he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned

'He did WHAT!' Alice said, looking shocked. 

-- but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced -- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here -- they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

'I think that uncle Algie needs a smack round the head!' Alice seethed. 

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing -- ").

Chloe and Harry, who were both starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

Everyone turned to look at Snape. 

'Am I a professor?' Snape asked. 

'Yes,' McGonagall says. 

'Great,' James said, remembering just how much Severus hated him and would probably take it out on his son. 

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into the twins' eyes -- and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on their foreheads.

James and Gwendolyn looked at each other, concerned. 

''Ouch!" They clapped a hand to their heads. Clemensia and Catherine looked up at them, concerned. 

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling they had gotten from the teacher's look -- a feeling that he didn't like either Chloe or Harry at all.

'Wonder why,' James sneers. 

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Chloe asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape.

'Merlin it's going to be a long 7 years with him as a teacher,' Arabella huffed. 

He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to -- everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again. Chloe didn't even want to look back.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahern -- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

'Those two boys sound like they like getting into a lot of trouble,' Arthur remarks. 

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

'That's dark,' Barty remarks. 

'Why? We are allowed there?' Kimberly asked. 

'That will explained later in the book,' Dumbledore tells them.

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" Chloe muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere -- the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." 

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

A few people laughed at this. 

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts,

Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot''

Everyone hummed along to this.

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. Chloe was feeling the name. They were both too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and they were both just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist."

'How in Merlin's name is Peeves still there?' Sirius asked, a smile growing on his face. 

He raised his voice, "Peeves -- show yourself" A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. "Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed. 

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." 

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

'The beloved fat lady,' Kimberly remarkes.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it -- Neville needed a leg up -- and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. Chloe and Harry hugged each other goodnight before  going in the opposite directions. At the top of a spiral staircase -- they were obviously in one of the towers -- they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pyjamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets." Harry was going to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.

The girls did pretty much the same, Chloe, Clemensia and Catherine saying hello to the three other girls in their dorm, Hermione, Lavender Brown and Parvarti Patil before they all fell asleep.

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully -- and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it -then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold -- there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking. He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.

'Odd dream, strange that only he had it too,' Gwendolyn said. 

'That's the end of the chapter,' Regulus remarked, handing the book back. 

'Thank you, Mr Black,' McGonagall said, taking the book off him. 

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs (mostly Naruto cause I read too many good fics in the fandom and now I'm in hell)

[Naruto]

Spirit-Touched by phooykazooi

Once upon a time, the Haruno clan were priests. It was said that they were spirit-touched, and that they walked among the downtrodden and the poor, and did not bow to royalty.

Or, an AU in which Sakura can see spirits.

Part 1 of The Realms Between

(Really, and I mean REALLY fantastic Shikamaru & Sakura friendship! Fantastic, beautiful writing, and such good worldbuilding, god, and the Haruno family is so badass!! Sakura and everything she does makes me want to scream!! Please read!)

Final Evaluation by Do_the_Cool_Whip

Progress evaluations are one-on-one consultation meetings between academy students and their teacher. Their purpose is to inform academy students of their strengths and weaknesses and guide them down their ideal path to becoming a strong shinobi. Upon graduating the academy and passing their jounin-sensei test, new genin return to the academy for one final consultation. (Or: The story of what happens when Umino Iruka uses his final meetings with his students as way to send them off to become the best shinobi they can possibly be.)

(Iruka! Is! The! Best! Teacher! Ever! End of story!!! Great interpretation of all the characters and their capabilities and I am so so excited for the sequel that will undoubtedly come! XD)

Celestial Bodies by Oceanbreeze7

Sasuke looked at the fire, eyes glowing red as the mutated corrupted seal on his throat. "Amaterasu blessed me. I see things. Like you with two normal eyes and the Hokage. And Sakura with a seal on her forehead. And I run Chidori through Naruto's heart. I keep trying to kill him. Over and over. And that knuckleheaded idiot never gives up.”

(Don't you get it? I saw it. The moon will bleed, the nations will die. The world is going to end.)

Part 1 of Celestial Bodies and Anomalies

(I swear, this fic freaking elevated my expectations on Sasuke-centric fics in general holy hell. Also, read the fucking sequel after this cause EVERYTHING GOES NUTS AND THE PLOT GOES OFF AND I'M HERE FOR THIS SHIT. Fucking Uchihas man. Also, you wouldn't think this series is funny, but it is, and it's amazing.)

A step to the left (and right off the cliff) by weavingBlue

Team Seven starts off on a different foot and Sasuke's canonical journey to get stronger goes off the rails a bit. It all works out though. Probably.

(This fic went in a direction I didn't expect and it's GLORIOUS. SO FUNNY, I honestly was dying while I was reading this. Please give this a chance!!)

promises by BombsAreForBabies

It's her first kiss and Naruto's last. She promises him that she will bring Sasuke home. It's his dying wish, after all.

(Naruto bleeds out faster than the kyuubi can heal him.

Sakura learns that being a ninja is more than fancy jutsu and fun.

Sasuke does not know that he just killed his best friend and turned his most loyal comrade into his worst enemy.)

(Listen LISTEN I know this sounds depressing but the relationship developments and slow healing is EVERYTHING and I think it's absolutely worth it to read this. Sakura's characterization is so good and Kakashi makes me want to hug him. A lot.)

Fang Under Fang by Vroomian

"Are we sure he's really an Inuzuka?"

(The answer is no.)

-

Someone reborn as Inuzuka Kiba not only has to deal with bullshit ninja magic, but soulmates being A Thing.

(Really good self-insert fic and its platonic soulmates, not romantic! I am always here for a good Kiba-centric fic and I won't say who the soulmate is. It's unexpected but so, so good! Trust me!)

Haunt The Lonely by Tht0neGal666

(Series where Sakura can see ghosts and the Things she gets up to due to this ability. The fics are short but man, you can already see the shifting differences in Team 7's dynamics, it's great!)

Perception by Ellie_Enchanted

Naruto can sense auras, which throws everything off it's balance. Because really, with someone as open as Naruto running around and peering into the depths of people's souls, something is bound to change. In other words, sometimes all that's needed is a push. Also, Sasuke apparently glows.

(Naruto the empath changing the plot and making it Better and I am loving it!)

Crossfire by DejaVu22

Following the events of Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke never makes it to Orochimaru's hideout. Instead, he is waylaid by a one-eyed man named Tobi, a man possessing a Sharingan, a terrifying dual personality, a penchant for always being late, and a single-minded mission to stop the Akatsuki in their tracks. When Sasuke runs into Naruto again years later, he must ally with his old teammate in order to protect him from the Akatsuki, while keeping him out of the two man war Tobi and Sasuke have started against the dangerous organization.

(I honest to god can't stop cackling when I read this, the Sasuke & Obito dynamic is so freaking chaotic and Sasuke's characterization is the best thing I've ever read. This boi is a mEsS and I'm fucking rooting for him. He cares so much! There's secret identity shenanigans happening on sasuke's end and it's HILARIOUS! This is the duo I never thought I needed but here it is! *cackles insanely*)

-

[Diamond no Ace]

Echo in His Hands by SportRayne (rayningnight)

Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura

What does it mean, when you remember snapshots of your own future?

Is it your future at all, if you change it?

Would you even want to change it?

(Look I am WEAK for BAMF Eijun and time travel fics and Miyuki being a tanuki bastard, okay? Time travel fic where Eijun gets feelings of people he knew before in the future. Really good so far and am so excited over this fic!)

The path we walk by WindsOfTime

Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura

Eijun goggles at the magazine she just shoved into his hands. "W-Wakana!" "I know!" she says, beaming. "That's my soulmate!!" "I know!!" "My soulmate plays baseball!!"

(Became such an instant fave so fast it's unbelievable. I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH! Best soulmate fic in this fandom, hands down!)

-

[One Piece]

switching places by fireflywitch

Zoro is 21 and wakes up in a desert they already saved, on a ship that they burned two years ago, and standing next to a man who is supposed to be dead. Except, that can’t be right, can it?

Zoro is 19 and wakes up on a ship that’s too big, next to a robot wearing a swimsuit, and he’s supposed to fight something called a Kaido. Also, he’s missing an eye, and no one’s even a little worried about it?

(or)

Time travel is a shitshow, and Zoro didn't sign up for this.

(FUCKING HILARIOUS ZORO IS THE BEST PERSON TO SEND BACK IN TIME CAUSE HE'D BE TERRIBLE YET FANTASTIC AT IT I CAN'T MAN FIEWNOPFEW)

No Time To Crank The Sun by VIKAN

He’s surrounded by strangers, but they’re all trying to convince him otherwise. Or, Zoro faces a mysterious and relentless challenge that he just can’t wrap his head around.

(This ripped my heart open, I cried reading this my god. Please read this, the pain is so worth it and Zoro and his relationship with his crew is so good here. This reminded me why I love the Straw Hats so much!)

-

[Fairy Tail]

to learn about a lucy (with a look into the future.) by るる凪 - nagi (arurun)

A watching the future fanfic.

It's currently X781, three years before canon. A group of Fairy Tail mages find themselves in a large building, with no known way out.

They sit down, and they watch the future.

(This is so much more fun than I thought it would be and I'm so happy I found this fic. This fic reignited my old love for this fandom and I hope it does for you too!)

-

[Harry Potter]

sunflowers by Marnie27

One day, a young girl sits on the edge of a well. On this day, she falls in. Then the next, she’s not even a ‘she’ anymore. He’s Peter Pettigrew — doomed to die at the hands of his (betrayed) friend’s son.

Peter is selfish, bitter and brash. He’s not some fairy tale hero, he doesn’t care if everyone around him dies, as long as he lives. The marauders are annoying and childish. Survival is his priority, and he can’t afford to face distractions.

This just makes the fact that soulmates are now apparently a thing all the more godawful.

(And then another day years later he falls into an entirely new impossibility, Remus Lupin in tow, right into the third book of Harry Potter. Smack bang on the other Peter Pettigrew’s grave).

It’s confusing and graceless, and entirely something that would happen to him of all people.

(Self-insert fic where a girl reincarnates into Peter Pettigrew! And there are soulmates! And it's angsty and hilarious and Peter is an Asshole (somewhat unintentionally lol). Always a fan of biased pov fics and characters slowly improving themselves and their mental health! Cause dying! Is! Traumatic! *smiley face* Please read!)

-

[Crossovers]

he's a killer queen, sunflower, guillotine by hoye

Fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist, Harry Potter

He has to be the weirdest Hufflepuff Harry’s ever seen. Scratch that, he’s the weirdest Hufflepuff Hogwarts has ever seen.

(One thing everyone could agree on: NEVER call Edward Elric short.)

(This is peak Edward Elric and all the best things about him and I'm just having a Good Time. Friendships! Logical solutions! Marauder screentime! And so much More! *bright grin* It's a fun place here!)

[phoebe-delia]

For the song prompt, let’s hear your track 5 lol

Lmaooo this made me laugh, thank you. I've already done my 13th track and now I get to do Track 5! (If you don't know why Track 5 is significant, it's because Taylor Swift puts her most emotional songs as the 5th song on every album).

My Track 5 is, fittingly, a Taylor song; not only that, it's "gold rush," which makes me happy because 1. it's a great song and 2. I actually wrote a fic based on it for the first EVER Drarry as Taylor fic--before I knew this would become a series. It's from Draco's POV, and it can be read here.

I'm so glad to take another crack at this song. This will serve as a sequel/companion piece to the original, but it can stand on its own. Enjoy.

For the first time in his life, Harry was too excited to sleep.

Unlike Dudley, he hadn't spent Christmas Eves and the hours before his birthdays anticipating presents and sweets. He'd never had anything to look forward to, nothing to keep him up at night in anxious glee.

But now, as he stared up at the ceiling, his new roommates sleeping soundly around him, he found himself able to calm his exhilarated mind enough to rest.

He knew that the red and gold curtains that hung around his bed meant that he was in Gryffindor, and he mentally thanked the magical hat for not sorting him into Slytherin with that Malfoy git.

Irritation rose in his chest at the memory of Malfoy insulting his new friend, Ron. Harry'd decided then that anyone who could look at Ron and decide to be so rude to him must be someone to avoid. He knew a bully when he saw one, and bullies, in his experience, didn't change.

Harry turned onto his side to stare out the window, marveling at the novelty of sleeping somewhere with a view other than cramped, blank walls.

He curled up into the warm blanket, finally letting the exhaustion of the day lull him to sleep.

________

Third-year Charms, Harry decided, wasn't any more interesting than it had been the first two years.

He sat next to Ron, who was watching Hermione take notes with machine-like speed and precision. While the sight of Hermione in action was entertaining for a minute or so, Harry didn't understand why Ron stared at her all the time.

Not for the first time that class, Harry regretted not sitting toward the back of the room. Malfoy was sat next to Parkinson at the table just behind them, and Harry knew it was unwise to turn one's back to one's enemy. It was much more prudent to stare at one's nemesis for as long as possible, using subtlety and stealth to make sure one's observations went undetected.

Ron stared at Hermione almost as much as Harry stared at Malfoy, but surely Ron didn't think their friend was up to something.

Well, unless you called memorizing every comma of Hogwarts: A History nefarious.

“Remember, class, your homework for tomorrow is seven inches on the history of the Summoning Charm. You are dismissed," Flitwick turned to the board, casting a cleaning charm to erase the notes.

Harry was startled out of his reverie by the sudden announcement, as well as by Ron, who nudged him and gestured to Hermione, whose head was still bent over her desk as she wrote furiously.

"How long d'you reckon she'd stay here and write if no one stopped her?" Ron muttered.

Harry let out a short laugh and opened his mouth to respond when he caught sight of Malfoy darting quickly out of the room.

Harry frowned. But before he could voice his pondering over why Malfoy'd all but sprinted from the classroom, Hermione had finally snapped out of her note-taking daze and joined Harry and Ron.

As they walked along the corridor, Ron and Hermione continued to squabble over whether or not they needed to go to the library during their free period.

"But 'Mione, it's called a free period. A period of freedom. Don't you want to be free?"

"I don't want my mind to be enslaved to ignorance, Ronald! Information is freedom."

"Merlin, fine. But I have to go get my textbook from the dorm first. Harry, you coming?"

Harry nodded. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the two of them before giving them a mollified nod. Clutching her books tightly, Hermione turned on her heel and walked briskly toward the library.

"C'mon mate," Ron said, tugging at Harry's sleeve. "Let's take the long way."

Ron prattled on about quidditch, and Harry tried to listen, he really did. But his thoughts drifted inevitably back to Malfoy. He kicked himself again for not choosing a better surveillance point in class; maybe if he'd been watching he'd have seen why Malfoy'd fled class at the end.

He and Ron ventured outside, through the courtyard and into the open area beside the lake. Harry felt a surge of victory and relief at the sight of Malfoy sitting on the bench, his head tilted back with a soft smile as if enjoying the warmth on his face. His hair glittered golden in the sun.

Without thinking, Harry started walking toward him, an animated Ron following along.

“But Harry, they haven’t got a chance! Look, the Cannons--”

Ron stopped talking as Malfoy turned to sneer at them.

“Can I help you?” Malfoy drawled, “Or do you mind taking your boisterous conversation elsewhere? I was here first.”

Ron glared. “Shut up, Malfoy. We didn’t see you, or we wouldn’t have come any closer in case being a prat is contagious.”

Malfoy smirked. “Unlike you, I wasn’t raised in a barn, so I don’t carry diseases. But we snakes do bite, so mind your place, Weaselbee.”

Ron started toward Draco, his fists clenched, but Harry grabbed his arm, despite the rage swelling in his own chest.

“Ron, he’s not worth it. C’mon.” Harry said, eyes narrowed at Malfoy in a clear warning.

Ron gave Malfoy one last glare before he let Harry steer him away from Malfoy, who widened his smirk in satisfaction. They walked away, Ron continuing his rant as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower. Harry looked over his shoulder, catching one more glimpse of Malfoy basking in the sunshine.

________

“P-Potter,” Malfoy gasped, trapped between the bathroom wall as Harry crowded him, his face inches away. “W-what—?”

Harry shook his head, smiling softly. “You heard me, Malfoy.”

“I-I’m not sure I did, actually. Might you repeat it?”

Harry chuckled. “Why don’t I show you instead?”

Harry lifted a warm hand reached up to cup Malfoy’s cheek, leaned in and—

Harry woke with a gasp, sweat beading on his forehead. A hand scrubbed over his face as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and felt his four-poster ground him to reality.

After the last six years, he was no stranger to waking up in the middle of the night from strange dreams, but his subconscious--or rather Voldemort--usually tortured him with disturbing images and nightmare scenarios.

This time, it seems Voldemort had left Harry's subconscious to its own horny, teenaged devices--and it apparently had a twisted sense of humor.

That moment of blind rage in the bathroom haunted Harry enough during the day that he wasn't surprised that it would make its way into his dreams--but his chest hurt with the knowledge that perhaps it might've gone differently. Might've ended in whispered apologies, explanations, and soft, exploring kisses.

But if Malfoy hadn't hated him before, he certainly did now, and Harry couldn't blame him.

Harry knew a bully when he saw one, and during that moment, he couldn't pretend it had been Malfoy.

He raised a hand to the scar on his forehead and wondered when he'd changed.

________

“Draco Malfoy, you are hereby sentenced to three months house arrest, followed by one year of probation,” Kingsley banged the gavel, the sound reverberating in the large room before chatter rose from the avid audience.

Harry watched with a small smile as Malfoy and his mother sat together, their cool masks wavering with emotion for just a second before shifting back into place.

He decided to give them a moment before approaching Malfoy, but if he didn't get this over with now, he'd never have the courage.

Suddenly, Malfoy rose on shaking legs and walked over to Harry, who quickly stood to meet him in the middle. Harry regarded him with a tight-lipped smile.

Malfoy tipped his head slightly. “Thank you, Potter.”

Harry nodded. “Sure, Malfoy.”

Malfoy nodded before turning away, stopping when Harry, acting on impulse, reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Wait, Malfoy. I have something for you.”

Malfoy looked at him in confusion as Harry reached into his pocket and handed him his wand, stifling a chuckle when Malfoy’s eye widened.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it,” Harry said, his voice quiet.

Malfoy nodded again. He took the wand from Harry’s hand, closing his eyes. Harry let in a sharp breath at the sight of a soft smile on Malfoy's lips as he reunited with his wand. The image was more compelling than Harry imagined, as evidenced by the butterflies that filled his stomach.

Harry cleared his throat. “Well, er, I’ll see you around, Malfoy,” he said, nodding one final time before turning to leave.

He smiled as he heard Malfoy's quiet, "Goodbye, Potter," as he walked away.

________

Harry pressed his lips together in a grimaced smile as a few younger students gathered near him at the table in the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione shot him sympathetic looks, and he gave them an apologetic shrug before turning to sign another autograph for a wide-eyed first year.

If this would be an indication of what his eighth year would be, Harry wasn't sure how much longer he'd last.

After promises to fulfill the fans' requests later, the giggling group left the table to let him eat in relative peace--it was rather hard to enjoy one's dinner while half the school was staring at you.

His eyes flickered to the Slytherin table, where the students ate mechanically, their faces blank. Malfoy, who'd sent surprisingly genuine apology letters over the summer, looked thoughtful; not calculating or analyzing, but pensive.

Lying in bed that evening, Harry remembered the image of Malfoy at the Black Lake with his head tipped back in the sunlight. He thought of the rare smile Malfoy'd had when he held his wand for the first time after his trial, and the feeling that had bubbled up in his own chest at the sight.

Harry looked out the window at the night sky and wondered if happiness would be a constant thrum under his skin, or if it could be found in stolen moments tucked into his heart. The stars glittered in silent answer, shining with anticipation.

[cherripeach]

Chapter 7

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Prologue 14-18: i have the power of god and anime on my side

Chapter Summary: So a normal anime battle, right?

Warnings: Curse words, kinda jokes about death

Words: 3.4k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

Walking through the mirror portal was like walking through a fever dream on drugs: directions weren’t a thing and every color was being blasted through your eyelids into your eyes and once you opened them because the colors calmed down, you think you saw a talking cat who smiled and waved at you in there.

All three of you with Grim on your hip stumbled out of the portal to this new forest area.

Problem with the forest was nothing was moving. No noises from birds. No wind blowing the trees. No crunch of the leaves on the ground by any animals. No footsteps. Nothing.

Your eyes surveyed the land and only found the forest deserted. Even the little cabin in front of you did not look like it had been touched in years. There were holes in the roof and cobwebs all over the house. And there were no lights on in the entire house.

You and the color duo had the same thought and locked eye contact with a cringe on each of your faces, absolutely not ready for anything.

So you began your journey with Red in front of you and Blue behind.

Blue looked around the forest, and then looked back to you and Grim, “So this is Dwarf’s Mine...It used to be prosperous, thanks to magic crystal mining but…”

Grim spoke up, “Uuuuhh.. Feels like something could jump out…” and slipped further into your arms.

You held on a little tighter to your cat and voiced your opinion, “Feels like someone died or something... “ You paused and decided to get this moment over with, “What are your names again? Like full name…”

Red just rolled his eyes and turned to face you, “Are you actually kidding me? You're such a dumbass…” He rolled his eyes and faced forward and continued to move forward to only mutter, “Ace Trappola, loser.”

Deuce pulled up by your side and sympathized with your struggles, “It’s okay. I’m Deuce Spade,” and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “I’m not really good with names either, and I have to ask all the time.” A small smile appeared on his face.

Ace grabbed back your attention while announcing his founding of the house you already knew about, “Oh, there's a house back there. Let's go ask them about the mine”a

You were not for this, “You sure that house isn’t haunted. I’m not okay with going into a haunted house and dying with people I’ve barely met.”

Ace was not in the mood and twisted his head to stick out his tongue at you, “Shut it, dumbass.”

You four finally got to the door of the cottage or cabin, and you realized that the cottages looked a lot like the Dwarf’s House in Snow White which you really should have put together when Deuce called the area the ‘Dwarf’s Mine.’

Once all three of you stopped at the door, Ace, the genius he is, decided to knock on the door as if anyone would answer. He even called out to those inside, “Good evening..” until he realized that no one was home, “I guess it’s abandoned …” Then, his next great idea was going inside which totally is not a crime of breaking in and entering, “It’s a mess in here.”

Grim jumped out of your arms to get into the cottage and began his exploration which landed him right in a spider web where he spit out pieces onto the floor,“ Puwah! I got a spider web in my face.. Peh! Peh!”

Ace moved over to the table, “Aren't the tables and chairs on the small side? Are they for kids? One, two... There's seven! So many!”

“I don’t know about you, but I think that dwarfs might have lived here,” You had to make a sarcastic remark at his lack of judgement.

But of course none of them heard you or acknowledged you until a light bulb flashed over Deuce’s head while he brought up something similar to you,“This was probably a lively home when Dwarfs' Mine flourished.”

Your face fell while you could only shake your head at the audacity (of this bitch), look away from him, and mutter, “Well, no shit, sherlock.”

Ace brought your attention back to the task at hand, “They did what they had to. After all, magic crystals are found inside coal. For now, let's go check it out.“

And so all three of you ventured out of the cottage into the forest. Heading through the forest, you discovered something when looking at the sky: The Neverland Star was in the sky. You had to ponder for a minute if what if you actually were in a world where all things that happened in Disney Movies existed. You pushed that aside the moment you thought of it and laughed because ‘Naw, there’s no way that could happen and certainly not to you. You weren’t some Y/N from a fanfic where their parents sold them to Harry Styles.’

The more you followed the terrible forest path the less the path could be seen; years of no use made the path basically nonexistent. But the mine was the worst: broken pieces of wood and metal were thrown about like it something happened when it was closed, grass was growing from the train tracks, and not a single forest creature was in sight.

Grim studied the vibe for a minute and freaked out, “W-we're gonna go in that pitch black cave!?” He could only cling back onto your cloak for protection as if you could protect even yourself.

“Scared? Lame.” Ace rolled his eyes and emerged first from the four of you in horror at the mine.

Grim threw your cloak back in your direction and crossed his arms, “Naaanh!? I'm not s-scared at all! I'm taking the lead! You guys, follow me!“ Grim pranced to get in front of the three of you and entered the mine.

Everything was going well until two ghosts emerged from within the mine, creating chaos from the four of you.

The ghost’s could only reply to your chaos with, “Heeee hee hee! Our first visitor in ten years!” from one and, “Make yourselves at home. For eternity!” from another.

And all three of you raced away from the ghosts.

Ace could not help but panic, “This place is haunted with ghosts, too!”

Deuce tried to handle the situation, “We don't have time to deal with them one by one. Let's go!”

But Ace is Ace, “Don't think you can just order me around. If you hadn't done something so idiotic, we wouldn't be in this mess.“

“You wanna talk about who started it? It's cause you wouldn't clean!”

“It started when that furball burned the Queen of Hearts' statue!"

Grim tried to save his dignity, “Ffgna! That's what you get for making a fool outta me!”

Deuce set the objective again to the two idiots, “All of you! Do you understand our situation right now? We're all expelled if we don't get back with a magic crystal by tomorrow morning!”

You just couldn’t stand the arguing of these boys. They were worse than children arguing over a favorite toy.

Ace flicked his hand at Deuce and voiced his attitude, “So stop patronizing me. It's really ticking me off.”

“Will you all just shut up and run? Is it that hard to comprehend in your tiny brains that this is a situation where we could all I don't know..d i e? Either get your asses out of here and follow me or I’ll leave you in here.” You grabbed Grim and put him back on your hip.

“...on’t….ive….wo....” A ghastly voice spoke from far in front of your group.

Everyone jumped.

Ace peered around the cave only stopping to lock his frantic gaze onto yours, “W-who said that...”

“St...one....sssss.....mine..” The voice murmured.

“I think it's... getting closer…” Deuce whispered-yelled at you.

“Stone.... IS MIIIIIIIIIIINNNEEEE!!” A creature with a broken glass head with tar or a substance like gasoline leaking out of the broken area. The creature had a red coat with a belt and a brown hat on top of its broken glass head.

All three of you jumped with wide eyes and open mouths and screeched, “I-It's heeeeeeeeeeeree!!!!”

You with Grim in your arms, Deuce, and Ace all scrambled to get out of the cave with the monster, pushing and shoving the others to get out of the way and get through. You ended up tripping on a rock

A new section of the cave came into view while the monster was still chasing after your group. And even after you three sprinted through the cave, you did not stop until the monster’s footsteps could not be heard from behind you.

You three came to a halt and you let Grim stand up in order for you to place your hands on your knees so that you could take a break and breathe after the run you just had. The other two boys followed your same form and let out large puffs of air.

Deuce stood back up while still exhaling air, “What the heck is that thing?!”

Grim clutched your cloak as he hid under it this time, “Ffgnaaaaaaa!!” He almost pulled your pants down, “Crowley didn't say anything about that!! Let's get outta here!” He tugged your cloak in the opposite direction of the cave.

Ace fixed himself and thought out loud, “It’s so nasty,” but he placed his hand on his chin and finished with, “But didn't it mention a 'stone'!?” He did peace signs and moved his fingers up and down to signify he was quoting the beast.

Grim’s mouth flew open wide while he voiced his opinion of the monster with a solid, “Eehh??”

He was lost in his confusion until the monster appeared behind him again, “St....one, won't....give...!” The monster seemed pretty strung up about this stone which made you pause for a minute and think. Why is this monster here in the first place? And why does this monster need this stone? Is it like its source of magic like the chandelier or something?

Deuce had a cry of “Eureka!” by proclaiming about the magic crystals, “So there really are magic crystals left!”

Grim’s response was plain, “N-n-n-n-n-nope! Nope! I'm a genius, but I can't beat that thing!” He was still clutching onto your cloak while pointing at the monster.

Deuce curled his fist up, “But we'll be expelled without it.. I'm going!” and he threw it up in the air.

Ace’s wide eyes locked with yours, “You’ve gotta be kidding!?”

“Well, if we are gonna do this and get this stone, we gotta do this right.” You threw your hands on your hips and your lips twitched up.

Deuce now had both of his hands in fists while proclaiming, “I cannot, under any circumstances, be expelled!”

The monster was not hearing any of it, “Leave! Leave!! Leeeeeaave!!!”

And so the three and the monsters began to fight. Grim had to jump out of his hiding spot, and he would spit fire at the monster every couple of steps that the monster was taking. Ace and Deuce kept hitting the monster with common attacks that they knew. But you realized something sooner than they did.

So you yelled at them, “Idiots, nothing is working. Get your butts out of here if you want to live!”

They, of course, would not listen to you and continued to fire their attacks at the monster, and even when Grim noticed the attacks weren’t working and informed the others with a “I-It's not working at all!” they still continued to fight.

It was only when you found a sparkly light at the end of the tunnel did your scream of “Dudes, there is a crystal thing here!” spurred them to listen to you.

Ace turned and found the crystal just as you did, “Behind that thing! At the end of the tunnel, something...”

Deuce nodded, “That light, is it a magic crystal!?”

And once the monster hollered at the group of you again about how he “WON’T GIVE” your group the crystal, you made the assumption that there was at least one crystal left.

Grim turned back to you and called for the others to get out of the mine as soon as possible because there was no way they were gonna win now.

You grabbed Grim once he made grabby hands at you and started to dash down the mine in the opposite direction of the creature.

You three ended up making it back to the little cottage before you stopped.

Grim panted even though he was on your hip the entire time, “Is this far enough?”

Ace was still stupefied, “Ooooww.. What in the world was that? No one said anything about that!”

Deuce was also lost in confusion, “It didn't seem like any old ghost.”

Ace sighed in defeat, “Let's give up and go home. I'd rather get expelled than fight that thing.”

Deuce looked incredulously at Ace, “Wha!? Don't screw with me! I'd rather die than face expulsion! There's a magic crystal in front of us and you wanna go home!” Deuce gripped Ace’s collar and pulled the boy in front of his face.

Ace scoffed, “Ha. You talk big for someone worse at magic than me. Go alone if you want. I'm done.” Ace pushed Deuce’s hands off of him and started walking away from the direction of the mine.

Deuce snapped, “Oooh, that right? Then stay right there cowering like a spineless coward!”

Ace’s face swiveled around, “Huuuuh?? Coward?? Who exactly are you talking about?”

Grim’s hands tigented around your shirt, “U-uuuh... Deuce. Did you switch up your character?” His head tilted to the side.

Deuce coughed, “Huh! A-ahem! My bad. I lost my composure a bit.”

You decided that if any time is good, now is the perfect time for your opinion, “Okay dudes, let’s use what we have. We know that magic can help us in this situation, but being a dumbass won’t. All three of you need to actually use your brains and remember that you don’t have to do this alone.” You placed your hand on your chin, “If one magic alone does not work with our level, maybe magic combined could work. There is always the power of friendship if we really need it.”

Ace’s eyes narrowed in either disgust or confusion, “Well, yeah we can only do small stuff that we are good at. That’s why we have schools for magic, so that we can practice a lot to use magic just as it comes to mind. You’ll screw up if you lose your cool.”

Your eyes sparkled, “So what you are saying is I’m right and that we do need to work together as you are all inexperienced magicians that can barely do anything!” This was just what you needed.

Ace continued and ignored you, “Shut up. Stuff you're good at, you can go off instinct.”

Deuce voiced his decisions, “At any rate, I'm going in there. I'll figure out how to beat that thing and come back with a magic crystal.”

Ace rolled his eyes at Deuce, “However, judging by the chandelier incident, you're a complete idiot. You couldn't land a single hit earlier, but now you'll 'figure it out'? It's going to end the same.”

Deuce’s eyes narrowed at Ace, “Come again!? You think…”

Grim tugged on your cloak to get your attention, “Here they go again. Can you stop it?”

A sigh came out of your mouth to launch you into your rant, “Will both of you put your dicks away and calm down? For Pete’s Sake, I really thought your brains would be bigger than your dick, but now I’m just assuming that your brain is nonexistent…” Your hand ran through your hair, “Please, I beg for you to listen to me for one second. Get your head out of your ass and realize that you, all of you, need to work together as a team and think with your heads to defeat this monster. Capiche?” You closed your eyes and smiled as wide as you could.

Both of the students looked at you like you just told them that the world would end, and ended up yelping after their eyes met yours.

Grim covered his ears with his paws, “Waah. Why are you shouting all of the sudden?”

You opened your eyes and obtained a resting bitch face, “Either you suck it up and realize that you can’t do anything alone or you can go try again and maybe you’ll have a good short death.” Your smile appeared back on your face.

Deuce deflated, “Guuhh... B-but... What exactly should we do?”

“We have to have a plan for this to work,” You knew you had to put your head together.

Ace still had disgust in his eyes, “Strategy? You mean get along and work together. Ha! That's cold. You have no problem saying lame things with a serious face, huh.”

Deuce bobbed his head, “Disagreed. No way I'm working with this loser.”

Grim shook his head, “But... I feel like it's way lamer to get expelled on the first day of school.”

Ace stuttered, “U-uh, that’s…”

Deuce stared at his shoes.

“So, are you finally gonna listen to me?” You smiled and ran your hand through your hair.

Ace groaned, “....haaaahh.. Fine! We just have to get it done, right! So, what's your plan?”

And all three of you then had a discussion about what you were going to do to defeat the monster. Neither of the males had any ideas, so it depended all on your ideas. Later, you three ended up at the opening of the mine with confident looks on your faces, empty stomachs, and worn out bodies.

Grim, shaking next to you and gripping the end of your cloak, gazed up into your eyes, “You... really think it'll go as planned? I'm sca... no, just nervous.”

“Hey, Grim,” You pet the top of his head right next to his ears, “Nothing bad will happen to us. You just have to believe in yourself and everyone else.”

Ace slapped you back, “Haha, you're too stiff. Just go with the flow. Let's get this over with!”

All three of you strutted into the mine as if you knew what you were doing, but you didn’t.

Grim jumped in front of you and waved his arms all around, “Hey, beasty! O-o-o-over here!”

The monster ended up sprinting at you which makes sense because before it ran at you, you cupped your mouth and yelled, “Hey, whore, bet you never passed elementary school!” And then stuck out your tongue at the monster.

Grim sprung up and went in the opposite direction you did screaming, “Gah! It’s coming!”

While you tried to doge the monster, the monster growled, “Grrr!There... thief... too. Won't give... Mine... Mine!!”

The monster’s growls and shrieks soon turned into wails and cries. You paused your run to observe the monster who was in the middle of fighting Ace and Deuce because Ace decided to punch the monster in the monster’s face of glass. (Grim ended up cheering at Ace’s punch) This monster you had now learned was not mad at you but was probably attached to the mine and especially to the crystal with how the monster’s screams turned to cries.

(‘Great character analysis!’ You thought while patting yourself on the back.)

You surveyed the outfit of the monster once more, and you learned that it was much more familiar than you thought.

A light bulb went off in your head because the outfit looks like one of the seven dwarfs outfits, and, of course, now when you need it you forgot what they all look like.

You had to get everyone’s attention, especially the monster’s, “Hey hey hey! I’m gonna steal the crystal if you don’t run after me!”

The monster stomped after you out of the mine and into a big meadow roaring, “Go away! Go away!!!”

And with a wave of your hand, the three magicians in your group did a grand attack. All of them were yelling their movies like basic anime heroes.

(‘Am I in an anime?’ flew through your mind for a second, but your slowly pushed it down)

You knew that this was your only chance because the monster was stuck in all of their attack, “I’ll go get it, don’t worry!”

The three of them high fified and talked a little bit about how just amazing their combined attack was. You were spirinting into the mine, tripping on some of the rocks and slipping on a puddle of muck from the monster. The crystal slowly came into view and you went in that direction.

Large, booming footsteps were heard from behind you causing you to circle around to the noise and find not only the monster racing toward you but your idiotic boys following after it.

Ace hollered at you, “Watch Out!”

The monster even though the boys were still attacking it ignored everything and sprinted straight for you and the crystal.

You had to jam your hands into the rocks surrounding the crystal and pull as hard as you can which honestly was not a lot. Your hands were soon donned with scraps and cuts from the rocks surrounding it, and finally after using a piece of metal from the train tracks behind you, you got out the crystal with the monster not on your ass but almost.

When the monster locked sight onto the crystal in your hand, a sickening screech flew through the air, “Hands ooooofffffffff!!”

Deuce, Ace, and Grim all began panicking and trying to find out what to do by actually asking each other.

However, your biggest priority was to get out of the monster’s range, so you had to do something that could get you killed possibly.

(At least unless you wanted to go deeper into the mine which honestly was a worse idea than facing the monster in front of you).

The monster could almost reach out and grab you now so you performed your amazing save: you kneeled to the ground as the monster was still running at you causing the monster to trip and fly right over you into a wall of rocks. Since the monster was now a little caught up, you stood up and rushed to get the boys who you pulled by their sleeves as they were still arguing and forced them to follow you out of the mine once and for all.

Grim surveyed your hand and ordered the others, “We got the magic crystal! Let’s skedaddle!”

Ace looked back at the monster, sighed, then turned to Grim, and shouted, “Roger!”

The monster ended up gaining focus quicker than you expected because it appeared right behind you as the exit to the cave came in sight.

Ace incredulously gazed at the monster, “You're kidding!? It knocked off all that stuff and came after us!”

Deuce cursed and then remarks, “Shoot, it’s gonna catch up to us!”

You noticed that the monster did not stop even when all of you were close to the cottage in the woods, and you knew that it was because the monster is dead set on getting the crystal out of your hands, “There’s no way it’s gonna let us go. Either we end this now or die trying, so let’s go.” You halted your run and faced the monster with your fists in the air.

Ace sighed, “Aaah, fine! Let's finish it! Don't let me down, Mr. Serious!”

Deuce's eyes flicked to yours and then Ace, “You too.”

Grim jumped in front of you, “I’ll show off my true power!”

All three of them ended up using their magic together to defeat the monster, and even though they all came out of the battle close to dead they still cheered and celebrated with each other with shouts and highfives.

A breath of relief passed your lips, “Now this is when you confess your love for each other?” You locked eyes with first Ace and Deuce.

“Knock it off!” Ace and Deuce yelped at you.

It seemed they have become so much in sync that they are even imitating each other.

Deuce continued with red cheeks, “...Ah. N-no. This is nothing like that!”

Ace added, rubbing the back of his neck, “Y-yeah, yeah! Could you stop saying weird things?”

Grim puffed out his chest and bloated, “W-we won, thanks to my genius!...It's not because we pooled our strength!”

You turned to Ace and shook your head causing Ace to run his hand through his hair and frown, “...I guess making excuses is pretty lame. I hate to admit it but we won thanks to your plan.”

Deuce slowly nodded, “... True. We got the magic crystal because you gave us level headed instructions. We can prevent our expulsion this way. ... I'm so relieved.”

You smiled at the two, “Everyone did their part, and now we can finally relax.”

Ace finished it off, “Yeah, yeah. We're all relieved. And seriously worn-out and battered. Let's go home.”

Grim pulled your coat and remarked how starving he was, but all you could think about was a change of clothes and a bath, so him eating a black crystal or whatever did not really bother you, not even when the other two boys were yelling at him not to.

Deuce let out a cheer of excitement and a breath of plain exhaustion, “Switching gears, let's get this magic crystal to the headmaster!”

Everything was finally going your way. For now.

~~~

It be very cute how my laptop now does not work

[exoxobsession]

Storm || One-Shot

Pairing: Kyungsoo x You

Genre: Fluff, HogwartsAU! (forgive me!)

Warnings: None! (The only warning is that it’s bad)

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I’m not very good at writing fluff so i kept it to a bare minimum. Sorry for the terrible fic. I just wanted a Kyungsoo one and was in Harry Potter mood so...here goes nothing.

You took a deep breath as you walked through the grand doors of the castle along with many others. Being a muggle-born, you didn’t know what the Wizarding World was like. Professor McGonagall led the group up to where a hat sat on a chair. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool, to be sorted,” Professor McGonagall says.

Everything was a blur until they called your name. You walked up nervously, hands sweating as you rubbed them together. “Hm, a muggle-born I see. You’re intelligent, you have a lot of wisdom, yes. But you’re very brave too. RAVENCLAW!” the hat decides.

You make your way to the table filled with blue and bronze.

That was how your Hogwarts adventure started. You were a Ravenclaw, who was supposed to be intelligent and have a lot of wisdom. ‘That stupid sorting hat got it wrong’ you thought. You weren’t as intelligent as the other Ravenclaws. You were average. But what you were good at and enjoyed was Quidditch. You were the seeker for Ravenclaw. Some even say that you were their good luck charm. No, you didn’t win every match, but the average increased.

Today you were late to practice because of Professor Snape. Running through hallways as you bumped into people, you turned back and shouted a sorry as you sprint across. Before you could turn back, you bumped into someone making you fall on the person. You were about to curse at the person before you saw him Do Kyungsoo. Your crush for three years. Panic settled in you as you scrambled yourself away from the boy. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I was in a rush and, sorry!” you babbled as you bowed to him furiously.

He laughed it off; you swear you’ve never seen this boy laugh in the four years of you attending Hogwarts. He was serious and looked like he would kill someone every time you saw him. “It’s fine, but you seem to be in a hurry. You should go,” he said as you just stared at his beautiful face. His features were perfect, his beautiful owl eyes, his heart-shaped lips, his soft hair, and his- a cough brought you back to reality as you Kyungsoo’s flushed cheeks. You must’ve been staring for too long. “Right, I should go, and um, sorry again,” you said awkwardly and hurried away from him.

You finally reached the Quidditch pitch, panting. You never ran that fast in your entire life, not even when a bulldog chased you for a whole seven minutes. “Are you okay, Y/N?” Jongin came up to you and asked. “All fine.” was your response. Then the Gryffindor team left.

The Golden Snitch was thrown into the air, your eyes not leaving it for a second at all. Then it moved away from you, going behind you. You tried your hardest to look out for it, but if you couldn’t see it and it was harder when grey clouds started forming. You flew higher, thinking it would be easier to spot it. Finally, you saw a tiny shimmer of gold; you took off, going at a higher pace. Finally,  catching that snitch.

As soon as you caught the snitch, the rain started pouring. You all hurried back to the castle, though everyone was wet.  Back in the dorms, some opting to play wizard chess, some homework, and others just talking, you wanted to get some sleep.

You were down as soon as you hit the bed.

In the morning you weren’t awoken by the sounds of birds singing, no, but the rumble of the thunder outside. But the thunder was outside. Not inside, so the classes must go on. Yay. Still sleepy as ever, you went to the washroom to freshen up.

You checked your timetable, seeing that Potions was the first class today. You tagged along with your friends instead of going like a loner. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kyungsoo and his friends pass by. Chanyeol and Jongdae? You weren’t sure of the names, but you knew they loved annoying him.

You remember the first time you met him. It was the day you were first attending Hogwarts. You got on the train and was awe the ancient feeling; you didn’t see his suitcase there, and being the klutz you are, you tripped. Being the kind human being he is, he offered you his Licorice Wand and some Chocolate Frogs, though you kept refusing; saying he had to make it up to you.

Every interaction you had with him was mostly you tripping, either physically or with words. Professor Snape’s voice rang through the class, startling you. “Today, you’ll be making Amortentia, and I expect none of you to mess up cauldrons, understood?”

You knew you would get partnered. But not with Kyungsoo. What would happen if you messed up? Or maybe you were staring at his face too long? Amid you worrying, he came over and guided you to one cauldron at the back. “You make it while I read out the ingredients,” you said without stuttering or getting distracted by his face. He just smiled. You started reading the ingredients to you both were done in no time.

“Done already, Mr. Do?” Professor Snape asked as he moved to us. “Now, tell me what it smells like,” he said to both of us. Kyungsoo went first, bending so he could smell it properly, “It smells like the woody scent of a broomstick handle, licorice wands, and the smell after rain, sir.” he said, as he straightened up.

“You, Ms. Y/N.,” he said, his gaze hardening more than it was. “I smell chocolate frogs, the smell of old books and…” you could smell his cologne. You weren’t sure if it was because he was beside you or if it was from the cauldron. “Great job, you can leave now.” he walked away.

You quickly got out in case he decides to changes his mind. “That was like something that happens only in a lifetime,” he chuckled. “Yeah.” you smiled, but the booming sound of the thunder caught you off guard, making you visibly flinch. Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough already?

Awkwardness soon settled in. Just the sound of your footsteps echoing through the hallways. You tried to think of something to talk to about when he spoke, “You were in a hurry yesterday. Did you get wherever you were going?” he asked as he cutely tilted his head. This boy was going to be the end of you. “Yeah, I was late to Quidditch practice because of Snape, no it was because of that stupid Baekhyun.” his face hardened at the end of your sentence. “You know Baekhyun? But he’s a Gryffindor, and he’s 5th year, right?” he questioned.

“Yeah, he is and isn’t your friend, Chanyeol, was it? He’s in Gryffindor too and, he’s 4th year.” you retorted. “Touché.” he gave up to which you smiled. “But we aren’t even friends, even though we’re from the same house,” he grumbled under his breath. It was inaudible to you, to you who was way up in the clouds.

There was only one more class, but you were beyond drained, exhausted, to even hear Baekhyun and his nonsense. “Are you even listening?” he frowned. “I love you and all, Baek but, I’m tired.” you groaned. “When are you not?” he rolled his eyes. “I heard you and Kyungsoo were partners in Potions.” he grinned stupidly while raising his eyebrows up and down. “Oh, shut up, you cockroach, plus he has a girlfriend.”

“What did you call me? A cockroach? This beautiful face and body looks like a cockroach to you?” he said in disbelief as he started chasing you around. You ran to your next class, but before you could even make it in, he grabbed you by the waist and started tickling you. “Take it back!” he shouted, still not stopping. “Fine! Fine…” you exclaimed, still trying to catch your breath. He let go of you at last.

“But your still a cockroach!” you said, sticking your tongue out and entering the classroom because you knew he wouldn’t come in here. “Yah!” was all you heard after you came in. That idiot can put a smile on your face no matter what. You felt someone staring at you, so you turned back, seeing the only Do Kyungsoo looking at you with a stony stare that sent chills up your spine.

Throughout the class, you felt his eyes on you. But when you looked back, he would look at the front or talking to the pretty Hufflepuff girl. When he was doing the latter, jealously built up in the pit of your stomach. It was his girlfriend.

Class ended quickly, but all you could hear through the class was his deep laugh. But you weren’t the reason. You’ve never seen him laugh that much. Or smile. You make your way to the Great Hall. Finishing your meal quickly, you walk back to go to bed.

Soon everyone started filling in, changing, and sleeping. You were about to head to dreamland when you heard the thunder roaring. You flinched, again and again, every time there was a noise. After a good few minutes, you sat up to see if anyone of your friends were awake, but no luck there. You heard the fireplace cackle, and you went to see if anyone was in the common room.

As you reached the bottom step, you stubbed your toe, which made you yelp, and the person on the couch turn. It was Kyungsoo. “You okay?” he asked, worry flashing in his eyes. Nodding, you ambled to the couch. Opting for the other side rather than anywhere closer.

“Can’t sleep?” he questioned, turning to look at you as the shades of red of the fire fell on his face. “The storm and the noises are keeping me up,” you answered. Then silence, just the fire burning, and the lightning clapping. “You could smell Baekhyun in the potion, right?” he decided to break the ice once again. You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Baekhyun was your best friend and nothing more.

“What’s so funny?” he frowned. “It’s… it’s so funny you think I like Baekhyun. He’s nothing more than my best friend, Kyungsoo.” you said, his name rolling off your tongue beautifully. “Then who did you smell?” this question caught you off guard.

“W-What?” you stuttered. “I don’t know if I’m being too straightforward here, but…” you waited for him to continue, raising your eyebrows as to tell him to go on. “It was you, Y/N. I’ve liked you ever since that day where-”

“You like me too?” you asked in a low voice. “Wait, what? ” he asked,  confused. “I’ve liked you since 1st year,” you said, feeling your face go hot. “What about your girlfriend then?” you asked quickly remembering. “I broke up with her, but we decided to stay friends.” he chuckled lightly. “For me?” you looked down at your hands.

He put his hand under your chin lifting your head, and softly landed his plump lips on yours.

You thanked the storm out there because without it he wouldn’t be yours.

[amalia2003sstuff]

Breathe

Fifth day  of Soulmate September . @tsshipmonth2020

Prompt: “Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.
”

Harry Potter AU

Pairings: Romantic Analogical

Warning: Panic attack

Note: There will be POV changes, but i will put breaks like these (—-) when it happens.

First - Previous - Next

Virgil had met his soulmate in his first year at Hogwarts. He was a Gryffindor - don’t ask him why the sorting hat put him in that house - while Logan, his soulmate was a Ravenclaw. 

Their first meeting wasn’t really that exciting. They met on the Hogwarts Express. Virgil, being born into a muggle family, was feeling extremely nervous about starting at a new school, a magic school none the less. A kid just walked into his compartment and asked if he was ok. Weird, if you were to ask Virgil, but he jus waved the kid’s concerns away, saying he was fine, and hoping the other kid would leave. 

The kid didn’t leave. Actually not only did he stay, but he also called V out on his lie. Virgil asked how he knew. He was usually better at hiding this stuff around strangers. The kid said he could feel it and just followed it. That’s when it clicked for both of them. They were soulmates. 

The kid introduced himself as Logan, a pure-blood wizard, then stayed with Virgil, helping him control his nerves until they got to school. And the rest is history.

—-

Now they were in their sixth year. They started dating at the end of their fourth year. They both agreed when they met that they were too young for a boyfriend at that age, so they stayed friends for four years.

Virgil was just walking out of his charms class, when he heard noise coming from a closet. He was worried. He thought that maybe one of the Slytherin bullies locked a kid in there, again, so he opened it.

Big mistake.

First thing he saw when he oppened the door was fire, one of his many fears. It quickly spread all around him, rendering him completely trapped, in the empty hallway. 

Virgil backed up into the corner as he looked around in a panic. Surely the professors would notice an entire hallway catching on fire, right? 

He slid down on the wall and curled up on the floor, closing his eyes tight as it was starting to get harder to breathe.

—-

Logan was in his potions class, when he started feeling a certain tightness in his chest. He instantly knew something wasn’t right, so he asked his professor if he could leave the class. Luckly the professor let him without further questions.

As soon as he was out of the classroom, Logan took off running through the halls, looking for his soulmate.

—-

Virgil opened his eyes again. The fire was gone - his panic wasn’t. - Instead, Logan was standing there.

“L-Lo?” Virgil spoke in a very small, raspy voice.

“You’re not worth my time.” Logan started “You’re just a filthy mudblood.”

Tears began to form in Virgil’s eyes “W-What? L-Lo-gan, you ca-can’t mean that.”

“My family was right. You’re just a weak, pathetic little mudblood. I should probably just break up with you.”

Tears were now running down Virgil’s face “N-No…”

“Maybe I should just get rid of you all together.” Logan raised his wand, and Virgil put his hands up to protect himself.

—-

Logan was on the third floor when he started hearing voices. Not just any voices, Virgil’s voice and … his voice?  That couldn’t be right.

He ran faster to where he was hearing the voices, and saw himself, towering over a cowering Virgil, wand raised. Logan had to do something. He got the attention of the thing, which changed into something else as soon as it faced him. His father. 

So it was a boggart. He could deal with that. He raised his wand.

—-

“Riddikulus!” A new voice shouted. No, not a new voice, it was Logan’s voice. But that couldn’t be possible. Logan was right in front of him. Logan hated him. Logan was trying to kill him - 

Logan was kneeling down in front of him, a concerned look on his face. 

“Virgil, can I touch you?” he asked, in a very gentle voice.

Hesitantly, he nodded.

Logan took his hands, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Virgil, whatever you saw, it wasn’t real. It was a boggart. It was all a representation of your fears.”

That made more sense. It still didn’t really help with the tightness in his chest, but it at least showed him that Logan didn’t hate him.

“Breathe.” Logan spoke gently. “Follow my lead. Four seconds in, hold for seven, out for eight.” He instructed, and led Virgil through it a few more times, until Virgil had mostly calmed down.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Logan asked.

Virgil nodded “Just - not now.”

“Ok.” Logan sat down next to him, holding his hand. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

—-

And they did talk eventually, and Logan did everything he needed to do to reassure Virgil that whatever the boggart said would never happen.

[cncobby]

CNCO at Disneyland/California Adventures

as a native californian and an avid disney lover writing this WRECKED me so i hope you all enjoy~

JOEL

cali boy obviously loves his disney

u guys are season passholders duh

always there right when the park opens 

he refuses to let go of your hand the whole day

“babe you don’t have to hold my hand all the time ya know? its not even that crowded today”

“nah i gotta or else you’ll get lost”

*eye roll* “yeah ok dork”

being so cutesy in line

all the smooches??

just like small ones when you’re leaning on him since the lines are long

forehead ones

cheek ones

so many smooches all over ur face

forcing him to wear the minnie ears

“they look cute i PROMISE”

“can’t i just wear the hat??”

“uh no this is what the people want”

taking his sunglasses for yourself

“baby this is why you should just let me buy you new sunglasses”

“why when i can just wear yours??”

so. many. selfies.

i mean what else is there to do in line???

cute ones, funny ones, gross ones

he’s really good at taking candids of you

attempting to do cute poses when the cameras take pictures of you at the end of the ride

him being pouty bc the ride messed up his hair

“baaaaabe can you fix my hair again the ride messed it up”

taking the cutest couple pics in front of the castle

watching the fireworks together!!!

u guys are just talking when u absentmindedly note that your dream proposal would be at disney 

he’s like “noted as FUCK” to himself

CHRISTOPHER

he’s SO EXCITED

being the big kid he is he’s so excited for all the rides

also just spending a day with his baby?? his favorite activity

tbh his favorite part is all the food

you guys probably spend more time eating than on rides

seeing his face when u buy him that giant turkey leg is PRICELESS

u have to stop him from stopping at LITERALLY every cart/restaurant

“baby if you eat that rn you’re going to vomit on the ride”

“BUT ITS BLUE CHURROS”

has the most fun on autopia and the cars ride tbh

(since he gets to drive like a fucking maniac)

he LOVES all the characters

fuck the princesses he wants pictures with pluto and goofy

he screams louder than you on rollercoasters 

buying matching couple stuff

matching hoodies

matching bracelets

matching mickey and minnie ears

he surprisngly loves the train that takes you around disney

(also gives him an excuse to smooch you during the tunnel parts)

he falls in love with toontown

loves how cartoony everything looks

once u guys go over to california adventures he literally is exploding with excitement

end up spending the rest of the day there

(not that you mind he’s so cute how can you say no)

literally squeezes ur hand to death on california screaming

he’s also fascinated with soaring over california??? “AMOR IT SMELLS LIKE ORANGES”

you end the day on silly symphony swings overlooking how pretty everything looks at night

“lets do this again baby” 

“yeah? you liked it that much?”

“yeah i also like how happy you look when we’re here”

that makes u have the BIGGEST smile 

ur so in love w this goof

RICHARD

took you on a surprise date!

he knows how much u love it and he FINALLY had some free time

woke u up at the ass crack of dawn

“baby wake up i have a surprise for you”

ur like ???? bro its SEVEN IN THE MORNING

so u just throw on a oversized shirt and leggings 

and then all of a sudden ur in the car???

u see the disney hotels suddenly and ur like ... wait

“YOU DIDNT”

he smiles that cute toothy smile he has

“i did baby, we’re going to disney!”

you’re literally bouncing in your seat

he’s laughing at how adorable you are

u guys go during christmas disney and everything is so pretty and magical

homeboy came prepared with a whole bag of snacks and drinks 

also bough matching ears beforehand that say “mr. and mrs,”

you’re like huh foreshadowing are we???

he just winks at you

*swoon*

going on all the rides but also just walking around looking at how beautiful everything is??

he is the perfect insta boyfriend taking cute pics of u in every possible angle

starts calling you princesa throughout the day bc he see’s how much u love the princesses there

he also got u guys a reseravation to the blue bayou???

wow this man really owns ur heart

also u guys may have made out on the pirates ride

(who doesnt lets be honest)

giving you piggyback rides when your feet get tired

“cant let mi princesa have sore feet”

buying souvenirs for aaliyah 

“do u think she’d like this??”

“maybe i should buy both”

you’re like babe i think she would like the stuffed turtle and the stuffed fish but do u

stay really late and ur both pooped at the end of the day

 he’s like one more surprise!!

ended up getting you a suite at the disney hotel 

“nothing but the best for my princess”

u really have found the disney prince you’ve been searching for

ZABDIEL

u guys go during halloween disney!!

couples costume as harry and ginny

(yes i know they arent disney characters)

forces u to go on haunted mansion twice

“babe its literally just looking at stuff”

“yeA BUT ITS HALLOWEEN STUFF”

“ohmygod”

eating everything and anything pumpkin

buying all the halloween treats!!

“zabdi that looks nasty plus we have enough food”

“theres never enough halloween food”

he’s so sad tower of terror isnt actually tower of terror anymore

watching live shows together!!

he ends up loving mickey and the magical map

taking a boat ride on mark twain riverboat to take a break from walking

cuddling together and just being happy bc its halloween and your with ur baby what else is better???

you guys end up sitting at a restuarant and just people watching

looking at all the cute couples costumes

and all the little kids who are dressed up

he casually just like ... drops a BOMB

“when we have kids they can go as lilo and stich and we can go as nani and david”

u look at him like uh what did u say

just winks at you and is like 

“yeah i said it amor i wanna have kids with you”

takes every ounce of self restraint to not jump out of your seat and give him the biggest smooch

bc hello family friendly park fellas

when u guys watch the parade or the fireworks he always hoists you onto his shoulders

“can’t let my little shortie miss out”

buying matching pins!!

u guys start collecting and trading pins together

so now everytime he’s free in california u guys make a point to try and go to disney at least once

ERICK

baby is soooo excited 

they rarely get time off and its been TOO LONG since he’s visited disney

u guys legit get there as the park opens

he has SO MUCH ENERGY

running around and dragging you to every ride

his favorite is astro blasters

also loves the bugs life section in california adventures??

runs around to all the little rides and games 

posing and taking cute photos together with the different characters

showing him all the “secret” disney food

he LOVES the light show at the end of the the night

sharing frozen lemonades and ice creams

u guys go to all the less crowded/less known places in disney

he loves the goats near adventureland

u end up getting SOAKED on splash mountain

literally RUSHES to get u a new outfit bc he cant have his baby being cold thats a no no 

ur just standing there giggling as he’s running around the gift shop trying to find clothes in ur size

u end up in an overized tie dye shirt and basketball shorts

“erick i look ridculous”

“i think you look beautiful cariña”

“ur just biased”

*him being fake offended*

“are you saying i dont have good fashion sense???”

“yes thats exactly what i’m saying”

“...you make a good point”

he loves watching the frozen show

(even tho a part of u is heartbroken aladdin isnt showing anymore)

(he’d make such a handsome aladdin)

you guys end up strolling around main street near the end of the night

just taking cute ass pics together and looking at all the cute souvenirs

he gets u a cute little heart bracelet 

engraved is his initials in it

“there mi vida, so my heart is always with you”

[ohscorbus]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child: Saturday 11th August, 2018

I’d call this a recap but it’s going to read like a love letter to this cast and in particular, Joe. You see, Albus has always been my favourite. I’m so emotionally attached and invested in this character that I panic every time a new actor comes in to play him. This isn’t just a character I like, he’s a kindred spirit I need in my life. I’m in too deep. My biggest fear is that there will be an Albus I can’t connect with and although Joe is the fourth Albus I’ve seen now and this has yet to happen, that fear still lingers. So I’ve been taking my time and just watching and learning who his Albus is and you know what? Good things come to those who wait because now, especially after today, I’m at a place where I can say he’s become one of my favourites to watch on stage. He completely pulled my focus for the entire show today. Which is really saying something when next to him you have Jonathan doing that smile he does. You know, the one that looks like it can cure cancer and bring about world peace? Anyway, my point being, Scorpius has always been distracting for us as an audience. That character is suppose to pull on our heartstrings that way. Albus always has to work a little harder to get that reaction. (Although I do appreciate the irony of people not seeing who he is. Life imitating art and all.) Yet each Albus has been quite distinctive. Each one different from the last but still inherently the same character. To me, Sam’s Albus was defensive and impulsive, Theo’s Albus was open with his vulnerability but found hope and determination in his despair, and Joe’s Albus is resigned to his lot in life. He accepts every hit but continues on in spite of them. There’s quiet sort of maturity about him. His shield is his humour, not his actions or words. It’s such an interesting take on the character and it’s one I don’t think I could ever tire of watching.

Act One, Scene Three

After Albus and Rose had decided to check out the compartments, Albus started to walk in the opposite direction to her and began peering down the ‘corridor’ of the carriage. He ended up in front of Scorpius’s compartment but he didn’t look in straight away, he just sort of lingered outside. He was completely unaware that Scorpius was watching him the whole time with this look of recognition and awe on his face. He knew who Albus was and couldn’t look away. On stage there’s no walls or doors that show us the Hogwarts Express, yet I’ve never felt that sliding glass door separating them in this moment more clearly than I did today. It was such a heart stopping, delicate moment. There was a stillness about it. Being able to see their two worlds so separately before they become entangled. You had Albus looking at all these compartments but it’s the one right in front of him that’ll change his life. The very thing he’s scared of will make him stronger. While Scorpius is alone in that compartment, still safe in the bubble his family have kept him in for years. We could only watch and wait. Then Albus looks and makes the decision almost instantly and as Albus steps in that compartment, into his bubble, Scorpius’s world changes too. You could feel the excitement rolling off Scorpius once he started talking to Albus and Rose. This is the boy who knows his history and has dreamt of having friends like Harry Potter. Then suddenly he finds a Granger, a Weasley, and a Potter standing in front of him. I think Hogwarts became very real to him in that moment. All the stories he’s read and now he’s living it. This is quite literally the dream. Except of course they reject him. He sat down and turned his back to the door to avoid having to watch them leave him behind. But then Albus says he’s staying and Scorpius was not expecting that. You could see the internal panic as he visibly breathed in and out to calm himself. Partly out of shock, probably mostly out of nervousness. His thank you was precious. He truly meant that. Which is why I think Albus really goes out of his way to make sure Scorpius knows he’s teasing him about only staying for his sweets. That reaction (“I didn’t stay for you”) is so Albus. You know how I said before about Joe’s Albus using his humour? I think this is a great example of that. I’m sure Albus is just as nervous as Scorpius in this moment. So he’s instinctively fallen back on his dry humour. But then he looked at Scorpius and sang, ‘I stayed for your sweeeets’, making Scorpius relax almost instantly. For a lack of a better word, it’s really sweet. They’ve known each other for a matter of minutes at this point and already they’re giving each other what they need. Reassurance and a clean slate. Albus needs someone to look past his family name just as much as Scorpius does.

Act One, Scene Four

As soon as Albus walked up to the Sorting Hat and stood there all happy and smiley, like he knew he’d got this, I knew this was going to be a good scene. Why? Because it made me realise this Albus doesn’t know yet. He’s got a good relationship with his dad, he’s nervous about school but he’s ‘ready’, he’s already made a friend, and now the Hat is going to listen to him just like his dad said it would. Nothing to worry about! But then that one word brings his whole world crashing down around him. Slytherin. There must be so much running through his head in that moment. Everything has changed. The future he’d expected is now unknown. Yet the worst part? His dad lied. The Sorting Hat hadn’t listened to him. (Although I’d argue it did, but you know, to Albus in this moment it felt like it hadn’t. Little did he know that house is exactly where he belongs and needs to be.) The look on his face tells you that much. This was not the answer he was expecting or on some level, hoping for. Then Scorpius’s voice cuts through the noise and Albus turned towards him. He then looked up at the Slytherin banner hanging above him before walking towards Scorpius, accepting his fate. I think for Albus, this was the first of many cases of ‘works for Harry Potter but not Albus Potter’ at Hogwarts. It’s what slowly crushes him over time. That feeling of not being good enough. For the Hat, for the other kids, and for his family.

“And be my good friend” – Albus’s face broke my heart today. He looked so heavy hearted and somewhat shocked by Scorpius’s words here. His good friend? Isn’t he already a good friend? Why is Scorpius even asking that? Albus reached out for him as the scene ended after this line and he still looked at a loss over his friend. It also made me think about the argument later on in the library. Albus is always floored and then completely guilt ridden over Scorpius’s accusations and evidence of him being an awful friend. It’s an interesting contrast with Joe’s Albus and other interpretations. I’ve seen others take that phrase and agree without a second thought because it goes without saying. It never occurs to them that Scorpius would think anything different of him. That he’d have to ask for that. Is he failing at this too?

Act One, Scene Six

“Meet the once great Harry Potter, now a stone cold Minister man” – As Amos is speaking, Delphi and Harry always shake hands. It’s not a big moment, they’re both just being polite and humouring Amos. It’s what happens afterwards that’s interesting. So Harry looks down at his hand after she’s gone. He doesn’t know why, it’s an instinct thing. Sometimes he’ll shake it or flex his fingers. Just something so small, a detail easily missed and overlooked, but there and a sign if you know. It’s great. But anyway, that’s not what had me on the edge of my seat. I don’t know if Eve always does this and I’ve only just noticed, but after she shook his hand, she slowly and subconsciously reached back for her wand with this look in her eye as she stared at Harry while he was focused on Amos. Then just as her hand was there, she seemed to snap out of it. Years she’s been watching and planning and her instincts nearly made her throw it all away. It was super interesting! It gave me a fascinating insight in her Delphi, and Delphi in general. It definitely made me pay more attention to her smaller movements for the rest of the show. Like how visibly relieved she was when Amos backed down in St. Oswalds. It makes me wonder whether that’s part of her mask, or her mask slipping. I ended up watching the show with that in mind and made me realise just how young she is. The disorganised, frantic, and repetitive words scribbled across the walls of her room (there’s a panel that just has the word ‘father’ written over and over again in her disjointed, pointy, jagged handwriting) now felt childish. I felt her age and isolation in them. They became less ‘writings of a mad man obsessed’ and more ‘rages of a hurting, angry soul’. If that makes any sense. Don’t get me wrong, she’s dangerous, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I could see more clear than ever that part of her that desperately wants her father. It drives her like it does Albus and Scorpius. (Although all three take completely different roads in terms of handling it, obviously.) That’s why she can manipulate them so easily in that respect. She understands. I know this is all level one of understanding the characters/plot. I don’t think I’m explaining it very well. I think what I’m trying to say is that Eve made me think about Delphi more than I have before. I like the idea of her slipping. That one little action created ripples, and I’ve been intrigued by it ever since.

Act One, Scene Seven

Ginny and Albus sharing a smile at the very beginning of this scene still warms my heart. I really love the openness of their relationship. They may not say anything to each other in words here but they communicate quite easily. It’s practiced and heartfelt.

I think it’s great how relaxed and at home Joe’s Albus feels in his bedroom. He’s lying down and one of the most chilled out Albus’s I’ve seen in terms of being comfortable with his family repeating invading his space. Probably because he doesn’t see it as that I guess… I loved Dylan’s James bragging about the cloak. The emphasis on the ‘my’ as he pointed to himself really rubbing salt in the wound. Except Albus is lying on his back and mocking him once he’d left, imitating him by mouthing back his mouths and his pointing. He then started to sit up to help Lily look for her book but once his mum took over he carried on lying down. Joe’s Albus feels less like an outsider to his family. His issue is a communication one with his dad specifically. Which is interesting, and leads me into my next point, that Tom’s Harry and Joe’s Albus really worked well with this in mind.

(Did I mention that Tom Peters was on as Harry today? I haven’t seen him before but he was barely half way through his first scene and I already knew he was going to be brilliant. He’s someone I would definitely go out of my way to see again.)

Joe’s Albus and Tom’s Harry were so different to how Joe plays against Jamie’s Harry. Or any Albus and Harry in fact. It was in scenes like this that you could really see it. Now I’ll admit my favourite versions of this scene are always the angriest ones. The ones where they shout, get all up in each other’s faces, and even hit the other with blanket). To me, the aggression made those ugly words make sense. They’re not thinking, they’re feeling. Too much. They’re both explosive when pushed so of course when that’s aimed at each other it’s going to be a catastrophic. But then today happened. The whole scene felt different, less volatile. Albus seemed more open with this Harry. He was lying down on his bed but then sat up when Harry walked into his room. Then Albus shuffled further away as Harry got closer and Harry stopped, mid speech and in his tracks. Albus realises what that movement must have looked like so he patted the space next to him on his bed and encouraged his dad to sit down next to him. He was simply making space, not trying to put distance between them. Harry continued talking and then at some point Albus brought his legs up onto the bed and sat cross legged, with his back against his pillow, so he could face his dad. By this point I was on the edge of my seat because I don’t feel like I’ve ever seen this dynamic before. This Albus was still giving his dad a chance, and this Harry was really trying. So it felt uneven worse when it fell apart. It was less explosive but hurt just the same. Albus’s resigned face said it all. Those words didn’t cut him down the way they have other Albus’s because they’re words he already believes. He’s a disappointment. It makes sense. Just like fairy wings makes sense and invisibility cloaks make sense.

Act Two, Scene Six

So ‘Hide and Seek’ is playing in this scene and right at the beginning, even though it’s the instrumental version, you hear the words ‘hide and seek’ sung as the two boys walk forwards out of the shadows and towards the light, towards Hogwarts. My head connected the two and all I could see was Albus lagging behind, looking to the left of him into the depths of the forest, while Scorpius proceeded on forwards, looking up in awe at the castle until he was bathed in the same warm light. Hide and seek. A random observation I know, but I like their differences as much as I do their similarities and the music is in show is beautiful. I should definitely talk about it more.

Act Three, Scene Seven

What struck me here was Scorpius’s happiness. He was noticeably excited to be there with Hermione and Ron. I can’t help but imagine a younger Scorpius reading all about the trio and wanting his own adventure. Now he’s here, with Hermione and Ron, and they’re doing something completely wild. These aren’t just stories anymore, he’s in one. I bet he gets a tingle. If not over that, then maybe the fact that if he’s with Hermione and Ron and surely that makes him Harry in this scenario? I’m sure that hits him later on. He’s too much of a nerd not to. (Although I’m sure part of his happiness is relief. Those two are familiar faces and he has a way of fixing things now. But thinking about Scorpius’s geeking out is way more fun.)

Act Three, Scene Nine

So while Scorpius was doing his whole ‘It’s Haaaarry Potterrrr’ thing, Albus looked round at his mum and pulled this ‘I don’t know this lunatic, I played no part in these antics’ face. I love that Albus clearly loves Scorpius, weirdness and all, but I also love that he sometimes pretends he’s judging him for it. Or maybe he is. But it comes from a place of love. The way only true, long lasting friendships can. Your best friend is judging you, but they’re allowed to because you both know they’re just as bad.

Act Three, Scene Ten

“I agree it doesn’t sound good” - What I really loved about this scene was Albus and Scorpius’s interactions. I’ve seen previous Albus and Scorpius’s share looks as McGonagall speaks but these two went beyond that. Scorpius in particular was talking/mouthing something to Albus after he spoke. I really love all these additional interactions. It reads so much like a four year long friendship should. They have that connection that makes them sometimes forget there’s other people in the room.

Act Three, Scene Eleven

“Are you okay, Albus?” “No” “No. Nor me.” - These lines really hit home today. I felt them in a completely new way I’ve never thought about before. So Joe’s Albus is opening up to his dad here. He’s trying. His dad asking him if he’s okay means something to Albus because he responds honestly. No, he isn’t. What broke me today was how Harry’s own honesty back may have been taken. I felt like Albus started to believe they were connecting with this conversation. That his dad was finally listening to him and they were openly talking about the things that matter. But then Harry turns the conversation back onto himself (’Nor me’) and Albus breaks. Ginny is right, Albus does want him to be honest with him, but in this moment? I think he just needs his dad to listen. This look flashed across Joe’s face, of disappointed and hurt, and then he just walked off. He wanted his dad to hear that he’s not okay and do something about it, not just have him tell him he’s not okay either. It’s easy to forget that he’s simply just a child reaching out for his parent. I know people find it comforting to know they’re not alone in their pain, but I think here Albus feels like it trivialises his own. It didn’t surprise me to see Joe’s Albus looking more upset here than he did after their argument in his bedroom. That comment before was something he’d half suspected anyway, but to have Harry still overlooking him even now really hurts him. Meanwhile Harry was left sat on the suitcase at the end of Albus’s bed and staring off into space. Harry was so wrapped up in Harry (and the loss at what to do) that he fails to see Albus. Again. Quite literally too. He didn’t look at Albus for those last lines and I don’t think that helped Albus’s thought process.

Act Three, Scene Fourteen

“Do you think I’ve been tested too? I have, haven’t I?” - Another line which left a new impression on me. I think there’s a couple of ways to interpret its meaning but today I really felt Albus’s resounding disappointment. He isn’t asking if he’s been tested because he doesn’t want to feel left out or as a way of making sense of their adventure, it was said as if he’d already accepted he had failed. This was just another failure in a long list for Albus. You could hear it in his despondent tone.

Act Three, Scene Sixteen

I absolutely adore Albus and Scorpius’s interactions here. They shuffle in closer and face each other as they talk animatedly while the scene sets up around them. It’s like they’re in this bubble and are completely unaware as the world/stage moves around them. It portrays their relationship beautifully. You really feel the history and depth of their friendship in these moments. 

“Let’s do something new, something fun” - I love, love, love, love that Albus’s idea of something ‘fun’ was to drop it off the owlery. He just sort of looked around and then stretched his arm out over the side with the Time-Turner in his hand. It’s so reckless and instinctive and you know what really intrigues me? It requires zero magic. I wonder whether that’s a conscious decision...

Back to Delphi again. I just want to add that I find her one of the most sinister Delphi’s I’ve seen. I think that’s why I’m so interested in where that comes from. This child, hidden from the wizarding world but the focus of rumours. The scary parallel with Scorpius probably isn’t lost on her. She hates Scorpius. Eve makes that blatantly obvious on stage. She’s spiteful at every given opportunity. Even right in front of Albus. It’s a fine line but it’s like she can’t help herself. I wonder if it’s because of his family and their deflection, or if it’s something more petty, like everyone believing him to be the son of Voldemort. This is what I meant before when I was trying (and probably failing) to explain what I meant by seeing her youth. It’s not about her literal age, but her approach to things. She’s focused yet reckless at times. It makes a terrifying, vicious combination. She’s definitely more like her mother than her father in that respect. With previous Delphi’s, I’ve seen her here still be quite playful and innocent with the boys. The act doesn’t drop until that very last second. But with Eve, I could see her slowing slipping. The point where she’s telling them about augureys, she was glaring down at Scorpius with this look on her face that told me she knew he was making the connections in his head, and she wasn’t scared or nervous, but enjoying it. She wants him to give her a reason to end this charade. She’s enjoyed playing with them, but she wants her goal. Now.

Act Three, Scene Nineteen

“Craig. Get away. Get help!” – Albus is bound on the floor and at the mercy of Delphi and yet his first words were to try and save Craig. I just wanted to highlight this before I make my next point. (I will fight anyone who tells me this boy doesn’t have the loveliest heart.)

“Avada Kedavra!” – Albus looked away as her words rang out. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Craig. He knows their meaning, he sees that flash of green. He knows, and he’s broken by it. The way she said the word ‘spare’ a few lines later really looked like they cut into him. He tried to save a spare, both Cedric and himself, but instead he’s created a whole new one. It wasn’t until the very end of this scene, when Delphi stands in front of his body with the Time-Turner in her hands that he finally looks. He was stood next to her and he looked over his shoulder at Craig’s body on the ground before looking back and finally placing his hands on the Time-Turner. It was such a heartbreaking moment. It was slow and felt fragile. Like he couldn’t leave, not without acknowledging what he’s done first. It added even more weight to his line (“what she did to Craig…”) a few scenes later.

Act Four, Scene Three

“The Bathilda Bagshot?” – Albus nerding out over Bathilda is everything. He went up and slightly stroked the door, and then ran away when it opened. His ‘acting casual’ as she walked past him afterwards was atrocious. The boy has no chill, and he calls Scorpius out for this! Bless.

Act Four, Scene Eight

The ‘Made Leanne Cry’ Award today goes to… James Howard! (He always looks far too happy every time I tell him.) So, background context. Although he didn’t do it today, Joe’s Albus has been running over to Scorpius during Act Four, Scene Three during his geek out over Bathilda. He focuses him and gets him to breathe in and out in time with him. It’s really sweet and a true testament to their relationship. Acknowledging your anxiety and panic attacks with someone and then letting that person not only see you but help you in your weakest moments speaks volumes as to how much Albus means to Scorpius. While I know that moment on stage is by no means a full blown panic attack, it’s just Scorpius freaking out so much he forgets breathe, I love that Albus recognises the signs instantly and stops his own geeking out to help him. We know they’re that close but to see it in such a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment says how these actions aren’t even a big deal to them. They will help and protect and save each other without question and move on with their day. I’m completely digressing now but that’s why I love Joe and Jonathan’s Albus and Scorpius so much. Their portrayal of the friendship is subtle but everywhere and so rich. Anyway, back to James Howard. So after they had all been reunited and hugged it out, Scorpius was trying to process how they’d got there and talk to them about Delphi and of course he started to stumble with his words and Draco, just like Albus, focuses him and makes a point to take a long, deep breath in and out as a way of telling him to do the same. It broke me. Jonathan is consciously playing Scorpius with these panic attacks in mind. It’s who his Scorpius is. I’ve always personally imagined Scorpius having these kind of issues so that in itself is nothing new, but I thought it was something he would probably keep hidden from his dad. So seeing that Draco was one hundred percent aware and knew exactly how to help him was unexpected but so completely welcomed. They may be having some communication issues but Scorpius needs his dad just as much as Draco needs him. I don’t know if it’s because it’s just the two of them but I feel their desperation and reliance on each other so much more than I do with Harry and Albus. Their relationship is so intense in those scenes once they’re back together it leaves you knowing without a doubt that they work through their issues.

One last point on this. I really love that Scorpius has the unwavering support of the two people in his life he needs the most. The fact that he doesn’t have to hide it from either of them and that they both play yet another role in his life, an important one too, really warms my heart. I’m glad Scorpius has this. That feeling when you can’t breathe and the moment when your vision falters and you can’t focus properly on the sounds around you, only the feeling of your chest as its about to burst, it feels life threatening and terrifyingly endless. Yet he gives them the power to pull him out of that. To be the light in the darkness. It speaks of so much trust and love. Again, it’s another ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment but it gave you such an incredible insight into Scorpius and his relationship with his dad. This cast are exceptional at providing these little moments. Look out for them!

Act Four, Scene Nine

This is going to seem like a really weird note to make but between scene nine and ten, they kind of lower the lights and the actors do this thing where they slowly move into place before snapping into the scene as the music and lights do. (It shows movement of time and I love it.) Anyway, sometimes the actors do things in character during this slow motion bit that make my heart burst. Like, Samuel’s Scorpius would do this little wave at Albus because they had just been separated while Albus slept and Scorpius was, presumably, hanging out with his dad. Anthony’s Scorpius would tuck his hair behind his ear. And, like father like son, Alex’s Draco once smoothed his hair down as he walked through the door. All these tiny actions brought me such joy. Is that weird? Anyway, Joe joined the club today by waking up during this part and doing this big yawn. I think I giggled. It’s so Albus-y. I love it. That boy’s relationship with sleep reads like a love story. He’s such a teenage boy.

Act Four, Scene Ten

“Draco, trust my dad. He won’t let us down.” – Two things about this scene. One, the look on Scorpius’s face as he looks between Albus and Draco is priceless. He’s on the edge of his seat (literally), not knowing what his dad will do after being spoken to like that. I think there’s also a little bit of awe in there? Albus speaking to his dad without fear means something when your dad is Draco Malfoy. Making friends isn’t easy when your family has that reputation. The fact it doesn’t phase Albus isn’t lost on Scorpius. (Although personally I do like to think they already sort of know each other. They’ve been best friends for four years, there’s no way they haven’t met each others parents yet. And I’ll fight anyone who doesn’t believe Albus met Astoria. You think a mother who knows she has years left not decades wouldn’t go out of her way to meet her son’s only friend?) Anyway, Draco doesn’t say anything back but his fingers were working overtime.

(To explain that last comment for those of you who haven’t read many of my recaps before, James’s Draco does this thing where he rubs this thumb and forefinger together, going round and round in frantic circles, whenever he’s stressed or anxious or angry for some reason or another. I think it’s a form of control for him? Like he’s channeled all that energy down into his fingers so it’s manageable. I’ve always been a big fan of this but now that we have Jonathan who’s emphasising Scorpius’s own anxiety, it’s added a whole new layer to it. Maybe that’s why he opened up to his dad or maybe how Draco spotted the signs. I really like the idea of these two helping each other out that way.)

And secondly, once Draco decides not to contest the plan anymore he pulls Scorpius (and sort of herds Albus) over towards the back of the church and behind him while he helps transfigure Harry. Today, once Draco had turned round and was facing away from the boys, Albus turned to Scorpius and pulled this face which can only be described as the grimace emoji. That kind of ‘eek! I can’t believe I just did that!’ face. It was great. He seemed so confident in the moment but obviously inside and afterwards he was not so chilled.

When Harry has transfigured into Voldemort, he turns round and faces everyone in the church. The reactions are what you’d expect. From Ron’s ‘bloody hell’ to the memories and fear cursing through Draco leaving him looking rather drained. But nestled behind the adults and peering through are Albus and Scorpius. I couldn’t see Scorpius that well but Albus’s face was loud and clear. His face hardened as he looked at ‘Voldemort’. It was unexpected but the more I think about it, it’s really not. For a boy with confidence issues he does have a tendency to tackle things head on. Visually though, it made such an interesting mix of reactions!

Act Four, Scene Eleven

“Alohomora!” - Joe’s Albus does this thing with his wand every time before he uses it. He holds out his arm and then wipes it on his sleeve quickly a couple of times. I love it because it’s a quirky Albus thing. But it also makes me a little bit sad when I think why he might be doing that. Because to me it reads like he’s doing it because he doesn’t believe in himself. He doesn’t trust his wand or his magic not to fail him. So maybe he’s cleaning it? Hoping by polishing it, it will somehow make it work better? Maybe he did it once and then he managed to successfully cast something and now he thinks he has to do it every time. Or maybe it’s just a ‘thing’ but you know me, I like to read into everything and make it angsty. It definitely feels like it’s something to do with his temperamental relationship with magic. Albus isn’t a Squib or bad at magic, it’s a self esteem issue that hinders his ability. The more pressure he puts on himself, the more it falters. The second he convinces himself he’s going to fail, he does. Back in the wand dance (Act One, Scene Four), Albus pulled this face as he held up his wand that clearly told us he knew this wouldn’t work but hey, he was going to have a go anyway. Of course then when he doesn’t work he’s proved himself right. Jump forward to this scene and what’s interesting here is that in this moment failure is not an option, and it’s in moments like this when there’s no time for doubt that Albus always succeeds. (For example, the cushioning charm as he jumps off the train.) Yet Albus still stopped here to swipe his wand across his sleeve before he cast. He’s exposed and there’s lethal spells flying all around and he still stops! I wonder if whether it’s a case of that seed of doubt being so ingrained in him that he still has to do it, or if it was done subconsciously out of habit, or even because he knows he can’t fail and does it to (in his mind) make sure he doesn’t fail.

On a personal note, as someone who’s struggled with OCD for the past fifteen or so years, that connection with cleaning and something working right isn’t lost on me. I’m not saying that’s what it’s about, or that act is a compulsion for Albus, but it could so easily be because that need to clean isn’t always about cleanliness. It’s sometimes just the act itself. It’s your brain telling you that you have to do this process otherwise something bad with happen. Sometimes you’re not even aware, you subconsciously do it with little thought. Other times it chips away at you until you break. Or worse, those times when you do it with no resistance because you’re convinced those voices in your head are right. This thing will work if only you do this process first. I’ve never really thought about what it would be like for a wizard with OCD before but there’s no way it wouldn’t affect their magic. Especially if it was in relation to their wand. Again, I’m not saying that’s what it is, but if it was then I could understand Albus not wanting to fight it in that moment. 

You know what? It almost reminds me of Scorpius’s wand too and how Anthony felt the carvings on it were a kind of self harm born from Scorpius’s grief. Magic is so greatly affected by your emotions and both Albus and Scorpius have to deal that. They both do it in different ways but what’s interesting is that, in theory, they’ve both focused all that negative attention onto their wands. This physical extension of their magic. I might be completely wrong here but it definitely makes for an interesting line of thought...

Act Four, Scene Fifteen

“I’m going into pigeon racing. I’m quite excited about it.” - Another Joe thing that I loved! When he said this line he leaned into his dad and pointed upwards as if pointing out a pigeon in a nearby tree. Sadly, Harry didn’t look so he never reacted to it but Albus was having a great time teasing his dad. What a beautiful way to end the show. I love their mutual hug afterwards of course, that always feels like a conclusion. But seeing where their relationship was and where it’ll be again was something we need even more than that.

Trying to summarise this show in a few sentences is impossible. I’ve just written six thousand words on something I’ve been watching over and over again for two years now and I could still easily say more. That’s what I love about this play. You can’t see and know and understand it all. No one ever will. Every cast and every show gives you something new. I sat there today and I’m still in awe of the beauty of this story and its translation onto the stage. I tell people that this is my favourite instalment of the Harry Potter series and they’re baffled by that. I love the books and using my imagination because yes, even though it’s happening inside my head ‘why on earth should that mean that it is not real’? And as much as that is true, this play brings me out of my head in that sense. It makes it real in a way a movie can’t. I’m there at Hogwarts with Harry and better than that, I get to share the experience with others. Imagination is great but it’s so personal. No one’s Hogwarts in their head is going to be the same as anyone else’s. You’re always going to be alone in that sense. But there in the Palace Theatre I’m not. We’re all watching the same thing. It’s that Scorpius feeling of realising you’re not reading about this adventure, you’re part of it. 

I think because I purposely distanced myself from fandom until Cursed Child, I never felt that inclusion of the wizarding world that way. Fandoms can be so destructive but here I’ve found a community of kind and passionate people (fans and actors alike) that has been so welcoming. It’s what Hogwarts should be. Every new cast feels like a new term, and each show feels like a lesson. You live, you laugh, you learn, and I come away feeling a little bit more connected to this world that I’ve loved since I was a child. My family often ask when I’m going to grow up and give up on Harry Potter and it confuses me every time. You don’t outgrow Harry Potter, you grow with it. I found myself in the teenage version of these characters and I still see myself in the adult versions now. They’re real to me, to a lot of us, and getting cast after cast who understand that is what makes this show what it is. Their skills as actors are of course phenomenal, but it’s the heart and energy they put into every show that makes it magical. That doesn’t come from acting lessons or theatre experience, it’s a feeling you just have if you’ve grown up with the books. It stays with you and inspires you.

[unsettlingshortstories]

Cannibalism In The Cars

Mark Twain (1868)

I visited St. Louis lately, and on my way West, after changing cars at Terre Haute, Indiana, a mild, benevolent-looking gentleman of about forty-five, or maybe fifty, came in at one of the way-stations and sat down beside me. We talked together pleasantly on various subjects for an hour, perhaps, and I found him exceedingly intelligent and entertaining. When he learned that I was from Washington, he immediately began to ask questions about various public men, and about Congressional affairs; and I saw very shortly that I was conversing with a man who was perfectly familiar with the ins and outs of political life at the Capital, even to the ways and manners, and customs of procedure of Senators and Representatives in the Chambers of the national Legislature. Presently two men halted near us for a single moment, and one said to the other:

"Harris, if you'll do that for me, I'll never forget you, my boy."

My new comrade's eye lighted pleasantly. The words had touched upon a happy memory, I thought. Then his face settled into thoughtfulness-- almost into gloom. He turned to me and said,

"Let me tell you a story; let me give you a secret chapter of my life-- a chapter that has never been referred to by me since its events transpired. Listen patiently, and promise that you will not interrupt me."

I said I would not, and he related the following strange adventure, speaking sometimes with animation, sometimes with melancholy, but always with feeling and earnestness.

THE STRANGER'S NARRATIVE

"On the 19th of December, 1853, I started from St. Louis on the evening train bound for Chicago. There were only twenty-four passengers, all told. There were no ladies and no children. We were in excellent spirits, and pleasant acquaintanceships were soon formed. The journey bade fair to be a happy one; and no individual in the party, I think, had even the vaguest presentiment of the horrors we were soon to undergo.

"At 11 P.m. it began to snow hard. Shortly after leaving the small village of Welden, we entered upon that tremendous prairie solitude that stretches its leagues on leagues of houseless dreariness far away toward the jubilee Settlements. The winds, unobstructed by trees or hills, or even vagrant rocks, whistled fiercely across the level desert, driving the falling snow before it like spray from the crested waves of a stormy sea. The snow was deepening fast; and we knew, by the diminished speed of the train, that the engine was plowing through it with steadily increasing difficulty. Indeed, it almost came to a dead halt sometimes, in the midst of great drifts that piled themselves like colossal graves across the track. Conversation began to flag. Cheerfulness gave place to grave concern. The possibility of being imprisoned in the snow, on the bleak prairie, fifty miles from any house, presented itself to every mind, and extended its depressing influence over every spirit.

"At two o'clock in the morning I was aroused out of an uneasy slumber by the ceasing of all motion about me. The appalling truth flashed upon me instantly--we were captives in a snow-drift! 'All hands to the rescue!' Every man sprang to obey. Out into the wild night, the pitchy darkness, the billowy snow, the driving storm, every soul leaped, with the consciousness that a moment lost now might bring destruction to us all. Shovels, hands, boards--anything, everything that could displace snow, was brought into instant requisition. It was a weird picture, that small company of frantic men fighting the banking snows, half in the blackest shadow and half in the angry light of the locomotive's reflector.

"One short hour sufficed to prove the utter uselessness of our efforts. The storm barricaded the track with a dozen drifts while we dug one away. And worse than this, it was discovered that the last grand charge the engine had made upon the enemy had broken the fore-and-aft shaft of the driving-wheel! With a free track before us we should still have been helpless. We entered the car wearied with labor, and very sorrowful. We gathered about the stoves, and gravely canvassed our situation. We had no provisions whatever--in this lay our chief distress. We could not freeze, for there was a good supply of wood in the tender. This was our only comfort. The discussion ended at last in accepting the disheartening decision of the conductor, viz., that it would be death for any man to attempt to travel fifty miles on foot through snow like that. We could not send for help, and even if we could it would not come. We must submit, and await, as patiently as we might, succor or starvation! I think the stoutest heart there felt a momentary chill when those words were uttered.

"Within the hour conversation subsided to a low murmur here and there about the car, caught fitfully between the rising and falling of the blast; the lamps grew dim; and the majority of the castaways settled themselves among the flickering shadows to think--to forget the present, if they could--to sleep, if they might.

"The eternal night-it surely seemed eternal to us-wore its lagging hours away at last, and the cold gray dawn broke in the east. As the light grew stronger the passengers began to stir and give signs of life, one after another, and each in turn pushed his slouched hat up from his forehead, stretched his stiffened limbs, and glanced out of the windows upon the cheerless prospect. It was cheer less, indeed!-not a living thing visible anywhere, not a human habitation; nothing but a vast white desert; uplifted sheets of snow drifting hither and thither before the wind--a world of eddying flakes shutting out the firmament above.

"All day we moped about the cars, saying little, thinking much. Another lingering dreary night--and hunger.

"Another dawning--another day of silence, sadness, wasting hunger, hopeless watching for succor that could not come. A night of restless slumber, filled with dreams of feasting--wakings distressed with the gnawings of hunger.

"The fourth day came and went--and the fifth! Five days of dreadful imprisonment! A savage hunger looked out at every eye. There was in it a sign of awful import--the foreshadowing of a something that was vaguely shaping itself in every heart--a something which no tongue dared yet to frame into words.

"The sixth day passed--the seventh dawned upon as gaunt and haggard and hopeless a company of men as ever stood in the shadow of death. It must out now! That thing which had been growing up in every heart was ready to leap from every lip at last! Nature had been taxed to the utmost--she must yield. RICHARD H. GASTON of Minnesota, tall, cadaverous, and pale, rose up. All knew what was coming. All prepared--every emotion, every semblance of excitement--was smothered--only a calm, thoughtful seriousness appeared in the eyes that were lately so wild.

"'Gentlemen: It cannot be delayed longer! The time is at hand! We must determine which of us shall die to furnish food for the rest!'

"MR. JOHN J. WILLIAMS of Illinois rose and said: 'Gentlemen--I nominate the Rev. James Sawyer of Tennessee.'

"MR. Wm. R. ADAMS of Indiana said: 'I nominate Mr. Daniel Slote of New York.'

"MR. CHARLES J. LANGDON: 'I nominate Mr. Samuel A. Bowen of St. Louis.'

"MR. SLOTE: 'Gentlemen--I desire to decline in favor of Mr. John A. Van Nostrand, Jun., of New Jersey.'

"MR. GASTON: 'If there be no objection, the gentleman's desire will be acceded to.'

"MR. VAN NOSTRAND objecting, the resignation of Mr. Slote was rejected. The resignations of Messrs. Sawyer and Bowen were also offered, and refused upon the same grounds.

"MR. A. L. BASCOM of Ohio: 'I move that the nominations now close, and that the House proceed to an election by ballot.'

"MR. SAWYER: 'Gentlemen--I protest earnestly against these proceedings. They are, in every way, irregular and unbecoming. I must beg to move that they be dropped at once, and that we elect a chairman of the meeting and proper officers to assist him, and then we can go on with the business before us understandingly.'

"MR. BELL of Iowa: 'Gentlemen--I object. This is no time to stand upon forms and ceremonious observances. For more than seven days we have been without food. Every moment we lose in idle discussion increases our distress. I am satisfied with the nominations that have been made--every gentleman present is, I believe--and I, for one, do not see why we should not proceed at once to elect one or more of them. I wish to offer a resolution--'

"MR. GASTON: 'It would be objected to, and have to lie over one day under the rules, thus bringing about the very delay you wish to avoid. The gentleman from New Jersey--'

"MR. VAN NOSTRAND: 'Gentlemen--I am a stranger among you; I have not sought the distinction that has been conferred upon me, and I feel a delicacy--'

"MR. MORGAN Of Alabama (interrupting): 'I move the previous question.'

"The motion was carried, and further debate shut off, of course. The motion to elect officers was passed, and under it Mr. Gaston was chosen chairman, Mr. Blake, secretary, Messrs. Holcomb, Dyer, and Baldwin a committee on nominations, and Mr. R. M. Howland, purveyor, to assist the committee in making selections.

"A recess of half an hour was then taken, and some little caucusing followed. At the sound of the gavel the meeting reassembled, and the committee reported in favor of Messrs. George Ferguson of Kentucky, Lucien Herrman of Louisiana, and W. Messick of Colorado as candidates. The report was accepted.

"MR. ROGERS of Missouri: 'Mr. President The report being properly before the House now, I move to amend it by substituting for the name of Mr. Herrman that of Mr. Lucius Harris of St. Louis, who is well and honorably known to us all. I do not wish to be understood as casting the least reflection upon the high character and standing of the gentleman from Louisiana far from it. I respect and esteem him as much as any gentleman here present possibly can; but none of us can be blind to the fact that he has lost more flesh during the week that we have lain here than any among us--none of us can be blind to the fact that the committee has been derelict in its duty, either through negligence or a graver fault, in thus offering for our suffrages a gentleman who, however pure his own motives may be, has really less nutriment in him--'

"THE CHAIR: 'The gentleman from Missouri will take his seat. The Chair cannot allow the integrity of the committee to be questioned save by the regular course, under the rules. What action will the House take upon the gentleman's motion?'

"MR. HALLIDAY of Virginia: 'I move to further amend the report by substituting Mr. Harvey Davis of Oregon for Mr. Messick. It may be urged by gentlemen that the hardships and privations of a frontier life have rendered Mr. Davis tough; but, gentlemen, is this a time to cavil at toughness? Is this a time to be fastidious concerning trifles? Is this a time to dispute about matters of paltry significance? No, gentlemen, bulk is what we desire--substance, weight, bulk--these are the supreme requisites now--not talent, not genius, not education. I insist upon my motion.'

"MR. MORGAN (excitedly): 'Mr. Chairman--I do most strenuously object to this amendment. The gentleman from Oregon is old, and furthermore is bulky only in bone--not in flesh. I ask the gentleman from Virginia if it is soup we want instead of solid sustenance? if he would delude us with shadows? if he would mock our suffering with an Oregonian specter? I ask him if he can look upon the anxious faces around him, if he can gaze into our sad eyes, if he can listen to the beating of our expectant hearts, and still thrust this famine-stricken fraud upon us? I ask him if he can think of our desolate state, of our past sorrows, of our dark future, and still unpityingly foist upon us this wreck, this ruin, this tottering swindle, this gnarled and blighted and sapless vagabond from Oregon's hospitable shores? Never!' [Applause.]

"The amendment was put to vote, after a fiery debate, and lost. Mr. Harris was substituted on the first amendment. The balloting then began. Five ballots were held without a choice. On the sixth, Mr. Harris was elected, all voting for him but himself. It was then moved that his election should be ratified by acclamation, which was lost, in consequence of his again voting against himself.

"MR. RADWAY moved that the House now take up the remaining candidates, and go into an election for breakfast. This was carried.

"On the first ballot--there was a tie, half the members favoring one candidate on account of his youth, and half favoring the other on account of his superior size. The President gave the casting vote for the latter, Mr. Messick. This decision created considerable dissatisfaction among the friends of Mr. Ferguson, the defeated candidate, and there was some talk of demanding a new ballot; but in the midst of it a motion to adjourn was carried, and the meeting broke up at once.

"The preparations for supper diverted the attention of the Ferguson faction from the discussion of their grievance for a long time, and then, when they would have taken it up again, the happy announcement that Mr. Harris was ready drove all thought of it to the winds.

"We improvised tables by propping up the backs of car-seats, and sat down with hearts full of gratitude to the finest supper that had blessed our vision for seven torturing days. How changed we were from what we had been a few short hours before! Hopeless, sad-eyed misery, hunger, feverish anxiety, desperation, then; thankfulness, serenity, joy too deep for utterance now. That I know was the cheeriest hour of my eventful life. The winds howled, and blew the snow wildly about our prison house, but they were powerless to distress us any more. I liked Harris. He might have been better done, perhaps, but I am free to say that no man ever agreed with me better than Harris, or afforded me so large a degree of satisfaction. Messick was very well, though rather high-flavored, but for genuine nutritiousness and delicacy of fiber, give me Harris. Messick had his good points--I will not attempt to deny it, nor do I wish to do it but he was no more fitted for breakfast than a mummy would be, sir--not a bit. Lean?--why, bless me!--and tough? Ah, he was very tough! You could not imagine it--you could never imagine anything like it."

"Do you mean to tell me that--"

"Do not interrupt me, please. After breakfast we elected a man by the name of Walker, from Detroit, for supper. He was very good. I wrote his wife so afterward. He was worthy of all praise. I shall always remember Walker. He was a little rare, but very good. And then the next morning we had Morgan of Alabama for breakfast. He was one of the finest men I ever sat down to handsome, educated, refined, spoke several languages fluently a perfect gentleman he was a perfect gentleman, and singularly juicy. For supper we had that Oregon patriarch, and he was a fraud, there is no question about it--old, scraggy, tough, nobody can picture the reality. I finally said, gentlemen, you can do as you like, but I will wait for another election. And Grimes of Illinois said, 'Gentlemen, I will wait also. When you elect a man that has something to recommend him, I shall be glad to join you again.' It soon became evident that there was general dissatisfaction with Davis of Oregon, and so, to preserve the good will that had prevailed so pleasantly since we had had Harris, an election was called, and the result of it was that Baker of Georgia was chosen. He was splendid! Well, well--after that we had Doolittle, and Hawkins, and McElroy (there was some complaint about McElroy, because he was uncommonly short and thin), and Penrod, and two Smiths, and Bailey (Bailey had a wooden leg, which was clear loss, but he was otherwise good), and an Indian boy, and an organ-grinder, and a gentleman by the name of Buckminster--a poor stick of a vagabond that wasn't any good for company and no account for breakfast. We were glad we got him elected before relief came."

"And so the blessed relief did come at last?"

"Yes, it came one bright, sunny morning, just after election. John Murphy was the choice, and there never was a better, I am willing to testify; but John Murphy came home with us, in the train that came to succor us, and lived to marry the widow Harris--"

"Relict of--"

"Relict of our first choice. He married her, and is happy and respected and prosperous yet. Ah, it was like a novel, sir--it was like a romance. This is my stopping-place, sir; I must bid you goodby. Any time that you can make it convenient to tarry a day or two with me, I shall be glad to have you. I like you, sir; I have conceived an affection for you. I could like you as well as I liked Harris himself, sir. Good day, sir, and a pleasant journey."

He was gone. I never felt so stunned, so distressed, so bewildered in my life. But in my soul I was glad he was gone. With all his gentleness of manner and his soft voice, I shuddered whenever he turned his hungry eye upon me; and when I heard that I had achieved his perilous affection, and that I stood almost with the late Harris in his esteem, my heart fairly stood still!

I was bewildered beyond description. I did not doubt his word; I could not question a single item in a statement so stamped with the earnestness of truth as his; but its dreadful details overpowered me, and threw my thoughts into hopeless confusion. I saw the conductor looking at me. I said, "Who is that man?"

"He was a member of Congress once, and a good one. But he got caught in a snow-drift in the cars, and like to have been starved to death. He got so frost-bitten and frozen up generally, and used up for want of something to eat, that he was sick and out of his head two or three months afterward. He is all right now, only he is a monomaniac, and when he gets on that old subject he never stops till he has eat up that whole car-load of people he talks about. He would have finished the crowd by this time, only he had to get out here. He has got their names as pat as A B C. When he gets them all eat up but himself, he always says: 'Then the hour for the usual election for breakfast having arrived; and there being no opposition, I was duly elected, after which, there being no objections offered, I resigned. Thus I am here.'"

I felt inexpressibly relieved to know that I had only been listening to the harmless vagaries of a madman instead of the genuine experiences of a bloodthirsty cannibal.

[apotterheadsimagination]

Draco Malfoy // Bailando en tus Brazos

Translation: Bailando en tus brazos = Dancing in your Arms

Colgando en tus manos = Hanging on your hands

“Colgando en tus manos” ~ Carlos Baute ft. Marta Sanchez

Disclaimer: There’s no lyrics to follow. All of the lyrics in italics.

Author’s Note: I’m 100% Mexican and have learned some of the Spanish language, I understand it very well and can say a plethora of words in Spanish, but being born in the Americas despite the first language that I spoke the best was Spanish I’ve adapted to the English language, and kind of lost most of my Spanish speaking ability. Recently, I’ve gone back to Spanish language songs and fell in love with them. I thought that it’d be a good idea to create an Imagine with Spanish lyrics. So here is the final product and I hope you enjoy.

Warning(s): some bullying, make out session, if fluffy is a warning I don’t know what to tell you.

••••••••••

You were part Latin, your father was from Mexico being part Venezuelan and Mexican, while your mother was American. You have nourished and adapted to the Mexican culture and have learn most of the Spanish language.

No one that you knew of in your family possessed a magical ability, except your great ancestor, Ruben Robles, everyone in Mexico thought he was a child from hell and abandoned him from their village. His two parents decided to hide him and tried to repel his magical ability, almost making him an Obscurus. Your ancestor found a way to repel the obscures and live an old age.

Your father’s generation came to America, and decided to live in finally live in Europe once he had married your mother and had you and your twin brother. Your mother and father had no magical ability, nothing, not even a spark. You were a powerful young child, especially when your father was a great wizard enough to control his obscurus. So when you received a Hogwarts letter, your first letter, you were more than stunned with a pair of joyful parents, envious brother, and weary grandmother.

You’ve always thought of that first letter that made your stomach flutter. But right now your in fifth year, no such rule for mishaps, memories, and parties. You needed to make your family proud and graduate Hogwarts, as being the second wizard in your whole entire bloodline.

You sat in the compartment with a low smile, your silver nails chipping away at the nail polish, and your hair in a messy bun, some of the strands sticking to your forehead. Your green and silver tie tied flawlessly around your neck, the clatter of students chirping breezing through your ear. Your eyes rolled, head bobbing, your lips parting open into a sigh. The Slytherin Gang is here. Of course you were an outcast, because you were a muggleborn. A depraved, hideous muggleborn as they say. Most of the time you’ll speak Spanish in front of them, they’ll look at you with a spiteful, yet curious glare. Jokes on them, since it’s about them and they’re so clueless and empty minded that they can’t learn the Spanish language.

You grabbed a book instead like every year for the ninth time and did the same practice; open your book, pretend to read, listen to Draco Malfoy’s whining about Harry Potter, hear Pansy’s terrible flirting, glance at times at Blaise’s silent form, hear Crabbe and Goyle chomp down food, then go back to reading until we arrive at Hogwarts. It was like a biannual routine, it happened at the beginning and ending, but once you began reading, you hardly heard a peep from the Slytherin gang, perhaps a whisper or two, but nothing more.

You continued to read, not wanting to glance at them in case they caught you. Unfortunately, curiosity got the best of you, so your eyes traveled from the compelling words on the page to their feet, body, and then heads. You met eyes with one of them, the Slytherin Prince, himself. You thought that he was thinking and his eyes landed on you at this moment. So you looked down and continued to read, feeling a anxious vibe.

On your first year at Hogwarts, when the worn out hat was placed on your head, and the voice shouted the serpent house. Your heart and mind felt glee, it just happened to be a coincidence that you ended up in Slytherin.

Quizá no fue coincidencia encontrarme contigo

That’s until you got shamed. You mailed your parents about your first day and what house you got. Never the horrible parts and cons of being a Slytherin.

“L/N.” Draco said, everyone became quiet, you slowly looked upwards netting their looks. “Yes.” You replied with a slow voice. “What are you reading?” Draco coughed. “Fifty Shades of Grey.” You snorted, only joking, but then releasing they didn’t get it. “I mean, Witches of the Wicked West. It’s a great book to read I think myself, perhaps you should one day, Parkinson.“ You quirked, immediately regretting what had came out of your mouth. You took out your wand in quick action, as Pansy’s furious face was walking towards till a hand held her back. It was Blaise Zanbini. He had saved your life and face.

“Stop Parkinson. Perhaps you should read one day.” Blaise defended you, Pansy sneered at you and scoffed at Blaise, sitting herself back down. You looked at Blaise an mouthed a ‘thank you’, he nodded with a smile. “I’ve actually read a book similar to that, same author perhaps.” Draco blurted, you look at him with astonishment, “Was it called, Wizards of Winston?” You asked with a grin. Draco looked at you, “Yes. Yes, it is.”

“It’s by Charles Kemp. His wife created Witches of the Wicked West. Her name is Hannah Kemp. I’ve read both of the books, quite a depiction of what muggles think of us.” You respond. You both looked at each other with wide smile, a strawberry hue blush rising to both of your cheeks. You look away, “Even though her book is targeted towards female audience, I suggest you read it.” You hand the book of Draco. “I will. Thank you.” Draco stared at the cover. “You’re welcome.” You say. “Are you really gonna read that Dracy!” Pansy screeched. “Yes. I am.” Draco retorted.

Pansy huffed crossing her arms in annoyance and anger. You only looked out the window, until you made it to Hogwarts. You hoped this year would be different, but what are the odds it may be.

Tal vez esto lo hizo el destino Quiero dormirme de nuevo en tu pecho

You had entered Hogwarts and sat down at the Slytherin table. Alone. As usual. The Weasley Twins usually told you to get to the Gryffindor table, but they weren’t here anymore and you were worried that the Gryffindor table will yell at you. You played around with your food, feeling a tap on your shoulder. It was Ginny Weasley, she gave you a small smile. “Would you like to sit with us? You’ve gotten along with my older brothers Fred and George so well, so might as well keep going.” Ginny quieted. “Thank you.” You whisper. “No problem.” Ginny looked back at you.

“Y/N.” Ron said. “Hi Ron.” You chirped. Hermione grinned and hugged you, “So your Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you.” Hermione said. “Nice to meet you too. All of you and thank you for allowing me to sit with you all.” You told the group. “Don’t worry about it.” Harry told you. You felt some tears rush to your eyes, you wiped the moisture away and smiled widely. “Ronald stop eating so much!” Hermione smacked Ron on the back of his head. You and Ginny laughed at them.

“L/N. What are you doing here?” Draco glared at the Golden Trio and Ginny. “I’m eating.” You tell him. “With friends.” You finish your sentence. “L/N, you belong to Slytherin, so eat at your correct house.” Draco told you. “What control do you have over me?! I’m gonna stay here and eat here, I have no reason to be at the Slytherin table.” You pout.

“Estás loco que crees que voy contigo.” You mutter.

-

“You’re crazy, you think I’m going with you.”

Draco eyes falter, “No, you don’t. But I do have a reason you should.”

“¿E que es?” You scowl.

-

“And what is it?”

“What?” Draco looks at you with utter confusion. “What is it?” You sigh. “To talk to me a-about the book. I’d like to share my opinions w-with you.” Draco stammered. “That’s it?” You say. “Yeah.” Draco shrugs. “Alright. I’ll go sit by you, if… You never bother my friends till the end of the school year.“ You proposed, attaching strings to the deal and him as if he were a puppet.

“Deal.” Draco sighed. You smiled shaking his hand. “I’ll be able to have lunch with you in another time, thank you for the invitation. Really, that’s one of the nicest thing anyone has done for me in awhile.” You told the group. “You’re welcome. And your always welcomed to come sit with us.” Ginny said, they all nodded at you. “Thank you.” You whispered.

“So tell me what chapter are you on?” You asked him. “Chapter seven.” Draco answered. “Wow, quick reader aren’t you?” You sheepishly grinned. “Yeah.” Draco replied. You two sat down at the Slytherin table, receiving nice greetings from Draco’s friends, except Pansy Parkinson. Pansy sneered and glared at you, after you looked at her she gave you a wrenching smile. You smiled sweetly in disgust at her. Draco began to talk to you and tell you his favorite parts, you usually only did this with Hermione

After a day, an owl came in with a book. It was your book, you smiled, grabbed the book and opened the cover, there was a letter in there.

‘Dear Y/N, Thank you for letting me read the book. It was an extraordinary read and I’m glad you let me read it. Your opinions are strong and it was nice to talk to you. By being so kind I did you a risky favor.

Thank you, D.M’

You looked back at the book and found the signature of the author and her husband with their own personal message. You teared up, this was amazing, that even someone did this for you let alone Draco Malfoy.

You closed the book and feed the owl. Letting it gracefully fly away to its owner. Sadly, after that letter the two of you didn’t talk anymore. You always sat at the Gryffindor table where everyone was used to you being there.

Your father sent you an MP3 player after your birthday, you turned it on seeing some music displayed on their. There were some English music, but it was mostly filled with Hispanic songs. You listened to them, memorizing the lyrics and singing along after a while. You started to dance, as a young girl you went to festivals and danced your father taught you since you were a toddler. Right now, it is kind of odd dancing how I am since you need a partner. You sighed and decided to not embarrass yourself furthermore and just listened to the music.

You began obsessing over all the songs. They calmed you and helped you concentrate.

You walked the corridors in search of your MP3 player, which you lost. You then found it, a song was playing though. A person was humming along to it, you took a peek closer and saw hands on a piano. You began to sing the song softly, you walked over there to see if the man or woman would notice you. Your eyes widened when you realized it was Draco Malfoy.

“Malfoy.” You said, his eyes opened and he jumped back. “L/N.” Draco breathed. “You like the song?” You asked Draco. “Well, yes, but I don’t understand it.” Draco replied. “It’s in Spanish silly.” You took the MP3 player and changed the song. You then walked to Draco and took one of his hands and put one hand on his shoulder. He followed along putting his empty hand on your waist. His touch felt warm, delicate it made your heart flutter, your head spin, and your stomach twist.

Y después me despierten tus besos Tu sexto sentido sueña conmigo Sé que pronto estaremos unidos Esa sonrisa traviesa que vive conmigo Sé que pronto en tu camino Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos Así que no me dejes caer

“You know that I’m hanging in your arms.” You sing, translating some of the lyrics. You danced his eyes looking into your, he spun you, then dipped you.

Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos Te envío poemas de mi puño y letra Te envío canciones de 4 40 Te envío las fotos cenando en Marbella Y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela Y así me recuerdes y tengas presente Que mi corazón está colgando en tus manos

“You sing beautifully Y/N.” Draco complimented me. You blush, “Thank you.”

Cuidado, cuidado Que mi corazón está colgando en tus manos No perderé la esperanza de hablar contigo

No me importa qué dice el destino Quiero tener tu fragancia conmigo

“I do not care what destiny says. I want to have your fragrance with me.” You chirped, still singing out loud. “Don’t let me fall.” You whisper into his ear. “I wont.” Draco whispered back. His face close to yours, his breath was warm with an apple scent. You both moved to the rhythm, helping Draco along.

Cuidado, mucho cuidado Lo quiero todo, verte y tus labios, tu cariño no prohibido, ay Te envío poemas de mi puño y letra Te envío canciones de 4 40 Te envío las fotos cenando en Marbella Y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela Y así, así me recuerdes y tengas presente

“So you play the piano?” You ask him. “Yes.” Draco twirls you around. “And you stole my MP3 player?” You beam, giggling a bit. Draco laughs, “I found it and then found all the voices and freaked out at first, but then listened to it. I played along to the voices.” Draco responded. “Surprises me since it’s a muggle device.” You told him. “Pretty creative muggle device.” Draco gripped onto your waist tightly. “I know.” You turn around your back against his chest, your hands intertwining hugging the sides of your hips.

Que mi corazón esta colgando en tus manos Cuidado, cuidado Que mi corazón está colgando en tus manos Que mi corazón está colgando en tus manos Que mi corazón está colgando en tus manos

“That my heart is hanging in your hands.” You finished singing. Draco turned you around and pushing you against a wall, his lips clashing with yours. His tongue poking at your lips for an entrance. You part your lips, his tongue entering. Your hands tugging at his hair, his hands roaming your body, you grind your hips against his. You both moan, and then pull apart.

“Oh no your wrong darling, I’m holding onto your heart, forever.” Draco commented, putting his lips on yours again. You didn’t protest, you just pulled back. “You won’t drop it?” You question. “Never. And I’m going to hold onto it, even after marriage.” He smiled, you giggled and placed your lips back on his.

[samanthasroberts]

‘I didn’t breathe for the last 10 minutes’: how we watch the World Cup

Photographer Christian Sinibaldi captures the joy and despair in British living rooms, as fans from Iceland to Iran, Serbia to South Korea, support their teams

When Christian Sinibaldi turned up at homes across England to photograph fans watching the World Cup, he was overwhelmed by every nationality’s hospitality. “And their food,” he says. “I’ve eaten a lot of crisps and beer, but also the traditional Brazilian dish of feijoada in north London, Mexican quesadillas and guacamole in Putney, and a lovely Moroccan tagine cooked on the barbecue in Letchworth.”

Sinibaldi sat with a fixed camera near the television screen and never asked anyone to pose: he didn’t need to. “Pretty much as soon as the match got under way, they forgot I was there.” He enjoyed watching the tension build. “Very few people left the room or changed positions throughout the game. They were glued to their chairs.”

It does mean that Sinibaldi has not watched any matches himself, because he has been looking the wrong way. “But I could nearly always tell when a goal was coming – I could see it in their faces.” There’s a reason he made time for the project this year: as an Italian, it’s one way of dealing with the fact his home side didn’t make the cut.

England 6 Panama 1

Cooper family, Milnrow, Rochdale, 24 June

Rick Cooper, 41, and wife Jo, 41, sons Leo, eight, and Aaron, four, Malc, 44, Alison, 72 Milnrow, Rochdale Timing is everything at Rick and Jo Cooper’s house, where the family are on countdown for England’s second match of the tournament, against Panama. With excited shouts of “Half an hour to kick-off” drifting in from the garden, the smell of burgers on the barbecue waft into the front room where the floor is strewn with balloons, inflatable clappers and St George’s flags.

The country is in the early grips of a heatwave and little do the Coopers – grandmother Alison, 72, uncle Malc, 44, Rick and wife Jo, both 41, and their sons, Leo, eight, and Aaron, five – know that the sunshine will not be the only turn-up for England.

Stones’ header puts England 1-0 up eight minutes in. “I missed it!” says Rick, distracted by Aaron walking in with lunch. But no one misses goals two, three, four or five – including two Harry Kane penalties – all before half-time. “This is unbelievable!” Rick shouts. “Football’s coming home.” The noise from the boys’ vuvuzelas is deafening.

“The boys were too little for Brazil 2014,” says Rick, a Manchester United season ticket holder, “so I’m enjoying watching this one with them. I was obsessed with skiing as a kid. But France 98, where Beckham got sent off, that really got me into football and I’m mad for it now.”

His brother Malc says, “You always have that hope with England, and it’s always been dashed. I remember Gazza with the tears at Italia 90, watching that with my late dad. And Maradona’s hand of God in 86, watching that on holiday in Torquay, around a tiny black-and-white TV. The injustice of it. But we’re perennial optimists, and with this young team, there’s a different mentality.”

Their mother, Alison, is the only one who saw England triumph in 66. She says, “The country couldn’t believe it. My late husband, Henry, he loved the game. He always said: ‘If they play football, they’ll murder ’em.’ He’d have been thrilled with this one.”

Brazil 1 Switzerland 1

Kiki Machado and friends, Crouch End, London, 17 June

Cristina “Kiki” Machado’s house is a sight, and sound, to behold during the Brazil v Switzerland game, what with the yells of the 30 people squeezed into the living room, the guitar music from Kiki’s tenant Caco Barros (at front, glass in hand) and the green-and-yellow stars chalked on the pavement outside. “We drew six,” says Kiki (in hat), “because Brazil has won five times – we drew one more for luck.”

Kiki’s living room is packed out with her “north London family”, friends collected over 20 years in this country, from Brazil, England, Lithuania, Serbia and Italy. When she arrived, her godmother gave her the number of her best friend’s daughter, Luciana, who was living in London. She never called, but seven years later they met by chance in the local library at a singalong for their children.

“My family in Brazil said people aren’t celebrating there the way we are,” Kiki says. “It’s natural when you’re away from your country to find your people and cheer together.” She remembers as a child how everything stopped during a World Cup game, so when Martha asked if she could come home from school early for the match, she said, “Of course. Your teacher will understand.”

After their 7-1 defeat by Germany in 2014, Brazilians are approaching this World Cup with trepidation. “I’m in defence mode,” says Janaína Campoy, 44 (on right, wearing glasses). “That game was a tragedy. It came just as things were going badly for us politically and economically. We lost confidence as a nation.”

The self-esteem of an entire country seems a lot to put on 11 men, but they don’t let them down. After the match, they party until midnight, because that’s the Brazilian way to celebrate a draw. “When we won in 2002, that party lasted 24 hours,” Kiki says. “The hangover lasted a week.”

Senegal 2 Japan 2

Adama Karde and friends, Ancoats, Manchester, 24 June

The music and the chat don’t stop at Adama Karde’s city centre flat. Adama, 44 (in front of picture), a musician, came to the UK from south Senegal in 2008 and the green, red and yellow of his home country is all around his living room: on flags, posters and djembe drums.

Watching with his partner Neilum Singh, 43 (second from right), and friends Iain Dixon (far right), 40, and Lamin Conteh, 42 (far left), Adama cannot hide his excitement. “Senegal is like Brazil,” he says. “Everyone plays football. When I was a boy, my neighbour was manager of the local team. He taught me, too – I’m a good player.”

An early goal from Senegal superstar Sadio Mané sends them wild: the music and chants get louder, and the energy soars. When Japan equalise, Lamin booms: “It’s game on. Game on.” But when Japan equalise a second time, the mood deflates.

“I wanted more,” Adama admits at full time. “They got the opportunity to win, but there were a few mistakes. They need to change tactics now.”

For him, the World Cup couldn’t get much sweeter than 2002, when Senegal beat title holders France in the first game and reached the quarter-finals. He watched back home, crowded around a neighbour’s TV. “When Papa (Bouba Diop) pushed that ball inside, it felt as if we could beat anybody.”

Neilum agrees: “They love their sport in Senegal. Because people have limited access to technology, they’re forced to share a TV, sometimes outside, sometimes in a cinema. Watching football with West Africans is electric – it’s just fire.”

Morocco 0 Iran 1

Essakhi family, Letchworth, 15 June

Before most Morocco matches, Mohammed Essakhi, 54 (in cap), finds himself in the kitchen cooking nibbles for friends coming over. He’s a school head chef and caterer, focusing on Moroccan and Spanish food. For this game, his starters include hummus, tzatziki and stuffed peppers. The barbecue comes after, “because when there’s a football match on, we want to watch it”.

Balbair Chahal, 42 (pictured front left), works with Mohammed at the school; Phil Moore, 56, and Amanda Brosnan, 50 (centre), are friends and fellow Leicester City supporters. They watch the game with Mohammed’s wife, Rosalind, 56, his nephew, Kaeran Duff, 30, his son, Nizar, 16, who is training with Watford and hopes to go pro, and his daughter, Azza, 22 (far right).

The 1-0 loss to Iran is “a bit of a let-down”, because the team played well, says Mohammed. Azza points to an important difference: “Footballers in England are so famous – it’s good to see people from your own background compete on the same platform.”

“I would love Morocco to win,” Mohammed says, “but realistically, it’s not going to happen. What would really make me proud is seeing Morocco host the World Cup. We’ve been asking for about 20 years.” His best football memory is the 3-1 victory against Portugal in 1986: “I was still living in Casablanca, and I remember youngsters celebrating in the street. Nobody thought it would be possible. At that time, Africa had only two teams that had qualified.”

Azza, who recently graduated, is working in Morrisons, and is delighted to wear her Morocco shirt to work when the team play Portugal a few days later. “It was to raise money for Clic Sargent [a cancer charity for young people]; we pay a pound to wear the team shirt. It was a real conversation starter. That’s what I love about the World Cup: the unity. No matter what happens or what team you support, there’s a conversation you can have with anybody.”

Japan 2 Colombia 1

Nishi family, Acton, London, 19 June

Naohiko Nishi (on right) and his eight-year-old son Atsuhiko (next to him) have no special food or drink, hang no flags, have no good-luck rituals. What they do have is a Japanese guidebook to the World Cup, with detailed information about every player: how old they are, what kind of a player. This is consulted very regularly.

Today the Nishis – Naohiko and his wife Akiko (far right), their sons Atsuhiko, eight, and Takahiko, six (front right) – are watching the game with their friends Hiro and Shiho (on left), and their children Masa, 12 (on floor), and Iroha, nine (with giraffe). The children are keen footballers: Masa, Atsuhiko and Takahiko all play at the nearby Football Samurai Academy. Atsuhiko plays football three days a week, and says he hopes to play for Japan when he’s older. For him, the best moment of this game is Shinji Kagawa’s penalty, secured in the game’s sixth minute after a handball from Carlos Sánchez: “It was kind of scary before he took it – we were very surprised that we won.”

His father agrees: manager Akira Nishino was appointed just two months before the World Cup began. “To be honest, Colombia is much better than Japan. They got a red card, which was so lucky for us. Winning this match was a great moment – because in the 2014 World Cup, Japan didn’t get a good result.” Though they were the first team to qualify, Japan failed to make it out of the group stages.

For Naohiko, the joy of this competition has been watching Japan improve their standing on the world stage. “Japan didn’t join the World Cup until 1998. Only some of them played in Europe at the time – whereas now almost all the Japanese players play for Europe. The quality has got much better and their confidence has increased.”

The win against Colombia, and a subsequent draw against Senegal, will be hard to beat, though Naohiko still holds dear his memories of the 2002 World Cup, held in South Korea and Japan: he was able to attend the opening game – where he watched Japan draw against a “very strong” Belgium.

Iran 0 Spain 1

Shirin Azari and friends, Bromley, 20 June

If only Vahid Amiri, the Iranian striker, could hear the chant from the mothers, teachers and former students of Iyda, or the Intercultural Youth Development Association, a Farsi-speaking community in south London: “Vahid pa Talayii omide team e mayii (Goldenfoot Vahid, you are our team’s hope).” Sadly, his golden foot doesn’t save the day: Iran’s only goal in the game against Spain is offside and they lose 1-0.

It is a women-only party, organised by Shirin Azari (behind sofa, in white Iran T-shirt) with friends in Bromley. “We often get together for food and gossip and chat,” says her friend Pupak Navabpour, whose children learn Farsi at Iyda. Food is the focus at these events, and it is all set up before people arrived, “so you can eat with your eyes first”.

Shirin has made dolmas and Turkish burek, and serves them with rosebud and cardamom black tea brewed in a samovar, followed by gaz (almond nougat) and nabat (crystal sugar) on sticks. “That is what we do when ladies get together,” she says. “The group was singing Iran Iran by Arash, dancing and chanting in Farsi.”

“I think Iran are really good at defence, one of the best,” says Shirin, “but not attack. Even if they try to score, there’s nobody there; they keep themselves to their own goal.” Despite her criticisms, she is proud of her team, “because they don’t have the facilities or coaches that western countries have.”

Pupak agrees: “It was gutting that the goal was disallowed. They defended well and almost scored a few times – even though they lost, I think they did quite well.”

Pupak started taking Farsi classes as an adult when she realised she was beginning to struggle with her mother tongue. Now her children go every Saturday. “My youngest said, ‘But Mummy, I’m English.’ Even though I’ve spent most of my life here, I don’t feel that kind of belonging. When I watch Iran play in the World Cup, I suddenly feel that connection to home.”

Serbia 1 Costa Rica 0

Bogdanovic family, London, 17 June

On 17 June, Serbia won their first World Cup game in eight years. The more superstitious might have the Bogdanovics to thank for it: “We sit in the order we were sitting in 2010, when Serbia won against Germany,” says Deanna, 47 (on left). “We try to recreate exactly what happened that day, so we can win in the future.” Serbian snacks must be on the table and everyone must dress for the occasion.

Deanna and Brian, 47, moved to London 20 years ago; soon they will have spent more of their lives here than in Serbia. “Often you question where home really is,” Deanna says, “but the World Cup erases that feeling. I’m not usually into football, but the World Cup turns me into a completely different person. When we scored,” she says of the winning goal, “it was such an amazing feeling. I don’t think we breathed for the last 10 minutes.”

The only year-round football fan in the family is 15-year-old Vuk. Serbia haven’t qualified for the World Cup for more than half his lifetime, and he remembers being a small boy watching Serbia beat Germany. “Back then, Stojkovic was my favourite goalkeeper, and he saved a penalty. That was a proud moment.” His ritual during the game is never to jinx it by being overconfident: “Even if we were 3-0 up, I’d still keep my mouth shut until the final whistle.”

Iceland 0 Nigeria 2

<source media="(min-width:" 980px)" sizes="1125px" srcset="https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/b792b6db8e4727e00f5611d69442c7ef5ca5b978/178_388_6751_4316/master/6751.jpg?w=1125&q=55&auto=format&usm=12&fit=max&s=a7d192e7be129093071d85a80b4ddb65" 112

Source: http://allofbeer.com/i-didnt-breathe-for-the-last-10-minutes-how-we-watch-the-world-cup/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2019/01/15/i-didnt-breathe-for-the-last-10-minutes-how-we-watch-the-world-cup/

[allofbeercom]

‘I didn’t breathe for the last 10 minutes’: how we watch the World Cup

Photographer Christian Sinibaldi captures the joy and despair in British living rooms, as fans from Iceland to Iran, Serbia to South Korea, support their teams

When Christian Sinibaldi turned up at homes across England to photograph fans watching the World Cup, he was overwhelmed by every nationality’s hospitality. “And their food,” he says. “I’ve eaten a lot of crisps and beer, but also the traditional Brazilian dish of feijoada in north London, Mexican quesadillas and guacamole in Putney, and a lovely Moroccan tagine cooked on the barbecue in Letchworth.”

Sinibaldi sat with a fixed camera near the television screen and never asked anyone to pose: he didn’t need to. “Pretty much as soon as the match got under way, they forgot I was there.” He enjoyed watching the tension build. “Very few people left the room or changed positions throughout the game. They were glued to their chairs.”

It does mean that Sinibaldi has not watched any matches himself, because he has been looking the wrong way. “But I could nearly always tell when a goal was coming – I could see it in their faces.” There’s a reason he made time for the project this year: as an Italian, it’s one way of dealing with the fact his home side didn’t make the cut.

England 6 Panama 1

Cooper family, Milnrow, Rochdale, 24 June

Rick Cooper, 41, and wife Jo, 41, sons Leo, eight, and Aaron, four, Malc, 44, Alison, 72 Milnrow, Rochdale Timing is everything at Rick and Jo Cooper’s house, where the family are on countdown for England’s second match of the tournament, against Panama. With excited shouts of “Half an hour to kick-off” drifting in from the garden, the smell of burgers on the barbecue waft into the front room where the floor is strewn with balloons, inflatable clappers and St George’s flags.

The country is in the early grips of a heatwave and little do the Coopers – grandmother Alison, 72, uncle Malc, 44, Rick and wife Jo, both 41, and their sons, Leo, eight, and Aaron, five – know that the sunshine will not be the only turn-up for England.

Stones’ header puts England 1-0 up eight minutes in. “I missed it!” says Rick, distracted by Aaron walking in with lunch. But no one misses goals two, three, four or five – including two Harry Kane penalties – all before half-time. “This is unbelievable!” Rick shouts. “Football’s coming home.” The noise from the boys’ vuvuzelas is deafening.

“The boys were too little for Brazil 2014,” says Rick, a Manchester United season ticket holder, “so I’m enjoying watching this one with them. I was obsessed with skiing as a kid. But France 98, where Beckham got sent off, that really got me into football and I’m mad for it now.”

His brother Malc says, “You always have that hope with England, and it’s always been dashed. I remember Gazza with the tears at Italia 90, watching that with my late dad. And Maradona’s hand of God in 86, watching that on holiday in Torquay, around a tiny black-and-white TV. The injustice of it. But we’re perennial optimists, and with this young team, there’s a different mentality.”

Their mother, Alison, is the only one who saw England triumph in 66. She says, “The country couldn’t believe it. My late husband, Henry, he loved the game. He always said: ‘If they play football, they’ll murder ’em.’ He’d have been thrilled with this one.”

Brazil 1 Switzerland 1

Kiki Machado and friends, Crouch End, London, 17 June

Cristina “Kiki” Machado’s house is a sight, and sound, to behold during the Brazil v Switzerland game, what with the yells of the 30 people squeezed into the living room, the guitar music from Kiki’s tenant Caco Barros (at front, glass in hand) and the green-and-yellow stars chalked on the pavement outside. “We drew six,” says Kiki (in hat), “because Brazil has won five times – we drew one more for luck.”

Kiki’s living room is packed out with her “north London family”, friends collected over 20 years in this country, from Brazil, England, Lithuania, Serbia and Italy. When she arrived, her godmother gave her the number of her best friend’s daughter, Luciana, who was living in London. She never called, but seven years later they met by chance in the local library at a singalong for their children.

“My family in Brazil said people aren’t celebrating there the way we are,” Kiki says. “It’s natural when you’re away from your country to find your people and cheer together.” She remembers as a child how everything stopped during a World Cup game, so when Martha asked if she could come home from school early for the match, she said, “Of course. Your teacher will understand.”

After their 7-1 defeat by Germany in 2014, Brazilians are approaching this World Cup with trepidation. “I’m in defence mode,” says Janaína Campoy, 44 (on right, wearing glasses). “That game was a tragedy. It came just as things were going badly for us politically and economically. We lost confidence as a nation.”

The self-esteem of an entire country seems a lot to put on 11 men, but they don’t let them down. After the match, they party until midnight, because that’s the Brazilian way to celebrate a draw. “When we won in 2002, that party lasted 24 hours,” Kiki says. “The hangover lasted a week.”

Senegal 2 Japan 2

Adama Karde and friends, Ancoats, Manchester, 24 June

The music and the chat don’t stop at Adama Karde’s city centre flat. Adama, 44 (in front of picture), a musician, came to the UK from south Senegal in 2008 and the green, red and yellow of his home country is all around his living room: on flags, posters and djembe drums.

Watching with his partner Neilum Singh, 43 (second from right), and friends Iain Dixon (far right), 40, and Lamin Conteh, 42 (far left), Adama cannot hide his excitement. “Senegal is like Brazil,” he says. “Everyone plays football. When I was a boy, my neighbour was manager of the local team. He taught me, too – I’m a good player.”

An early goal from Senegal superstar Sadio Mané sends them wild: the music and chants get louder, and the energy soars. When Japan equalise, Lamin booms: “It’s game on. Game on.” But when Japan equalise a second time, the mood deflates.

“I wanted more,” Adama admits at full time. “They got the opportunity to win, but there were a few mistakes. They need to change tactics now.”

For him, the World Cup couldn’t get much sweeter than 2002, when Senegal beat title holders France in the first game and reached the quarter-finals. He watched back home, crowded around a neighbour’s TV. “When Papa (Bouba Diop) pushed that ball inside, it felt as if we could beat anybody.”

Neilum agrees: “They love their sport in Senegal. Because people have limited access to technology, they’re forced to share a TV, sometimes outside, sometimes in a cinema. Watching football with West Africans is electric – it’s just fire.”

Morocco 0 Iran 1

Essakhi family, Letchworth, 15 June

Before most Morocco matches, Mohammed Essakhi, 54 (in cap), finds himself in the kitchen cooking nibbles for friends coming over. He’s a school head chef and caterer, focusing on Moroccan and Spanish food. For this game, his starters include hummus, tzatziki and stuffed peppers. The barbecue comes after, “because when there’s a football match on, we want to watch it”.

Balbair Chahal, 42 (pictured front left), works with Mohammed at the school; Phil Moore, 56, and Amanda Brosnan, 50 (centre), are friends and fellow Leicester City supporters. They watch the game with Mohammed’s wife, Rosalind, 56, his nephew, Kaeran Duff, 30, his son, Nizar, 16, who is training with Watford and hopes to go pro, and his daughter, Azza, 22 (far right).

The 1-0 loss to Iran is “a bit of a let-down”, because the team played well, says Mohammed. Azza points to an important difference: “Footballers in England are so famous – it’s good to see people from your own background compete on the same platform.”

“I would love Morocco to win,” Mohammed says, “but realistically, it’s not going to happen. What would really make me proud is seeing Morocco host the World Cup. We’ve been asking for about 20 years.” His best football memory is the 3-1 victory against Portugal in 1986: “I was still living in Casablanca, and I remember youngsters celebrating in the street. Nobody thought it would be possible. At that time, Africa had only two teams that had qualified.”

Azza, who recently graduated, is working in Morrisons, and is delighted to wear her Morocco shirt to work when the team play Portugal a few days later. “It was to raise money for Clic Sargent [a cancer charity for young people]; we pay a pound to wear the team shirt. It was a real conversation starter. That’s what I love about the World Cup: the unity. No matter what happens or what team you support, there’s a conversation you can have with anybody.”

Japan 2 Colombia 1

Nishi family, Acton, London, 19 June

Naohiko Nishi (on right) and his eight-year-old son Atsuhiko (next to him) have no special food or drink, hang no flags, have no good-luck rituals. What they do have is a Japanese guidebook to the World Cup, with detailed information about every player: how old they are, what kind of a player. This is consulted very regularly.

Today the Nishis – Naohiko and his wife Akiko (far right), their sons Atsuhiko, eight, and Takahiko, six (front right) – are watching the game with their friends Hiro and Shiho (on left), and their children Masa, 12 (on floor), and Iroha, nine (with giraffe). The children are keen footballers: Masa, Atsuhiko and Takahiko all play at the nearby Football Samurai Academy. Atsuhiko plays football three days a week, and says he hopes to play for Japan when he’s older. For him, the best moment of this game is Shinji Kagawa’s penalty, secured in the game’s sixth minute after a handball from Carlos Sánchez: “It was kind of scary before he took it – we were very surprised that we won.”

His father agrees: manager Akira Nishino was appointed just two months before the World Cup began. “To be honest, Colombia is much better than Japan. They got a red card, which was so lucky for us. Winning this match was a great moment – because in the 2014 World Cup, Japan didn’t get a good result.” Though they were the first team to qualify, Japan failed to make it out of the group stages.

For Naohiko, the joy of this competition has been watching Japan improve their standing on the world stage. “Japan didn’t join the World Cup until 1998. Only some of them played in Europe at the time – whereas now almost all the Japanese players play for Europe. The quality has got much better and their confidence has increased.”

The win against Colombia, and a subsequent draw against Senegal, will be hard to beat, though Naohiko still holds dear his memories of the 2002 World Cup, held in South Korea and Japan: he was able to attend the opening game – where he watched Japan draw against a “very strong” Belgium.

Iran 0 Spain 1

Shirin Azari and friends, Bromley, 20 June

If only Vahid Amiri, the Iranian striker, could hear the chant from the mothers, teachers and former students of Iyda, or the Intercultural Youth Development Association, a Farsi-speaking community in south London: “Vahid pa Talayii omide team e mayii (Goldenfoot Vahid, you are our team’s hope).” Sadly, his golden foot doesn’t save the day: Iran’s only goal in the game against Spain is offside and they lose 1-0.

It is a women-only party, organised by Shirin Azari (behind sofa, in white Iran T-shirt) with friends in Bromley. “We often get together for food and gossip and chat,” says her friend Pupak Navabpour, whose children learn Farsi at Iyda. Food is the focus at these events, and it is all set up before people arrived, “so you can eat with your eyes first”.

Shirin has made dolmas and Turkish burek, and serves them with rosebud and cardamom black tea brewed in a samovar, followed by gaz (almond nougat) and nabat (crystal sugar) on sticks. “That is what we do when ladies get together,” she says. “The group was singing Iran Iran by Arash, dancing and chanting in Farsi.”

“I think Iran are really good at defence, one of the best,” says Shirin, “but not attack. Even if they try to score, there’s nobody there; they keep themselves to their own goal.” Despite her criticisms, she is proud of her team, “because they don’t have the facilities or coaches that western countries have.”

Pupak agrees: “It was gutting that the goal was disallowed. They defended well and almost scored a few times – even though they lost, I think they did quite well.”

Pupak started taking Farsi classes as an adult when she realised she was beginning to struggle with her mother tongue. Now her children go every Saturday. “My youngest said, ‘But Mummy, I’m English.’ Even though I’ve spent most of my life here, I don’t feel that kind of belonging. When I watch Iran play in the World Cup, I suddenly feel that connection to home.”

Serbia 1 Costa Rica 0

Bogdanovic family, London, 17 June

On 17 June, Serbia won their first World Cup game in eight years. The more superstitious might have the Bogdanovics to thank for it: “We sit in the order we were sitting in 2010, when Serbia won against Germany,” says Deanna, 47 (on left). “We try to recreate exactly what happened that day, so we can win in the future.” Serbian snacks must be on the table and everyone must dress for the occasion.

Deanna and Brian, 47, moved to London 20 years ago; soon they will have spent more of their lives here than in Serbia. “Often you question where home really is,” Deanna says, “but the World Cup erases that feeling. I’m not usually into football, but the World Cup turns me into a completely different person. When we scored,” she says of the winning goal, “it was such an amazing feeling. I don’t think we breathed for the last 10 minutes.”

The only year-round football fan in the family is 15-year-old Vuk. Serbia haven’t qualified for the World Cup for more than half his lifetime, and he remembers being a small boy watching Serbia beat Germany. “Back then, Stojkovic was my favourite goalkeeper, and he saved a penalty. That was a proud moment.” His ritual during the game is never to jinx it by being overconfident: “Even if we were 3-0 up, I’d still keep my mouth shut until the final whistle.”

Iceland 0 Nigeria 2

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/i-didnt-breathe-for-the-last-10-minutes-how-we-watch-the-world-cup/