#what a noble looking toad

[justaz]

if i had a nickel for every time ive read a merthur fic and stumbled across a minor plot line that sounds exactly like one of my tumblr posts that i posted after the date that the fic was published id have two nickels which isnt a lot but its weird that its happened twice

#my old post where i said that merlin doesnt understand the diff between platonic and romantic that well and kisses gwen Like Friends Do #but gwen has a crush on him so its Weird. i red a fic where gwen admitted to her old crush and merlin was like ‘what?’ and she was like #‘i literally kissed you.’ and merlin was like ‘yeah. friends do that.’ and everyone else was like ‘no they dont’ #and just now. my (more recent) post of merlin lying to visiting royals/nobles/lords who are seeking out arthurs favor/help #in my post i said that merlin told a princess who was seeking to marry arthur that arthur loves frogs so she filled his chambers with toads #idk whats gonna happen in the fic bc i havent finished it yet #but merlin just told a princess who wishes to marry arthur that he likes frogs #ive looked at the dates of my posts and the fics and both fics were published before i made my post

[bogleech]

Could I mayhaps know what's the name of that arachnid field guide you have 0//0 it looks really pretty and I have. A thirst for all arachnid related field guides and biology books, love those critters

The Golden Guide to Spiders and their Kin! There were lots of them, originally made in the 60's or 70's I believe, and they used to still be so common when I was a kid - still in print, and sold for just a couple dollars everywhere - I thought everybody had a few! But now they seem to be forgotten.

I had the spiders one, insects one and "seashores" one (mantis shrimps and nudibranchs!!) before I could even read, just looking at the pictures all day. As I learned to read they were how I learned concepts of taxonomy and ecology, why I knew what a "parasitoid" was in first grade and I'd talk constantly about insects that aren't really RARE, but culturally most people never heard about. These books made things like velvet ants, bolas spiders and hairy millipedes seem to me like knowledge as ordinary as dogs and cats.

That "pests of animals" page in particular is why I knew there were wingless parasitic flies, and I thought that was so cool, I was obsessed with "SHEEP KED" for my entire childhood. This bug that nobody ever heard of when I mentioned it, but was at one time deemed worthy of inclusion in an everyday field guide. And they include "duck louse" as an animal pest you're expected to encounter. Sheep and duck parasites?!.....Oh, right! When these books first published, it was still commonplace for almost everyone to have experience with farm animals. Most people at least had grandparents or aunts and uncles with a farm they might visit and help out on. Of course they would encounter sheep and duck parasites. I think they still publish these, actually, I'm sure I still saw them in Barnes and Noble only a few years ago, but it's remarkable what a different America they were made under. My old copy even recommended DDT to control bed bugs....they did eventually edit that out in newer editions.

Some of their attitudes may be outdated here and there, and they're only intended for North American wildlife, but I think the golden guides might still be perfect introductions to their topics for anyone, anywhere of any age really?? They're such well-balanced overviews so densely packed with just the most essential information about each organism.

....Did people really ever just call tree frogs "hylas?!" It's one of their genus names, but was it also used as a common name anywhere? That's a cute idea. Maybe it was, briefly, so at some point to someone there was a concept of Frog, Toad, and Hyla?

#biology #animals

[peaches2217]

It's not unusual for Peasley to host extravagant parties. He's a people person, a Bean's Bean, and a skilled politician to boot. Parties are as much an excuse to mingle and have fun as they are an opportunity to strengthen bonds with nobles and the common people alike. Admittedly, Luigi's fascinated by his methodical approach to an activity typically considered gratuitous. It's a lot like Peasley himself: at first glance garish and full of himself, but shockingly thoughtful beneath the surface.

Some months into their courtship, Peasley invites him to his latest party at the capitol. In a first, it's a themed party; all guests are encouraged to dress in the fashions of the Metro Kingdom.

"I've always found it so charming," Peasley reasons, "all the colorful suits and elegant dresses!" And Luigi can't help but agree; from what Mario has described to him, a classy evening in the heart of the Metro Kingdom looks a lot like a high school prom in Brooklyn. (Or so they would presume. They didn't go to their senior prom. Long story.)

With no shortage of encouragement from his brother, Luigi gets himself a veridian suit, spends the day prior to the event in total isolation so he's got enough energy to survive the night, and then charges in head-first.

Peasley greets him outside of the hall where the excitement is being contained, and phew, he looks good. His gold hair is tied back for once, a thin braid running through it just above where his left ear would be if he actually had ears, and he's wearing a white suit that's equal parts tacky and enchanting, his rapier fastened to his right hip as usual. Luigi feels kinda woozy just looking at him.

He clings to Peasley's arm (or at least makes his best attempt to, being nearly a full foot taller than him) as he's led into the thick of the gathering. He expects Peasley to acquaint him with a few people, make sure he's comfortable enough to hold his own, and then split for short bursts of time to tend to his own royal matters.

Except he doesn't. Not once, not the entire night.

He proudly shows Luigi off to what must be every last guest in attendance, sparing no opportunity to divulge great detail about his heroic exploits (they mostly involve ghosts, because everyone already knows about the Cackletta incident), his great works of philanthropy (helping Toads repair pipes, fix roofs, and other assorted physical tasks in his free time), his unparalleled ability to coax life from unassuming seeds, filling entire gardens with color and cheer (he has successfully grown one (1) rose in his entire life, and he only managed because Peasley walked him through every step of the process).

Just listening — heck, just watching, seeing how proud Peasley looks to have Luigi on his arm, how he lights up at every chance to talk about him, how his name passes his lips with such reverence  — you'd think Luigi was the Crown Prince and Peasley was his unassuming date.

When he's not waxing lyrical about Luigi, he's feeding him tiny squares of cake (raspberry vanilla — his favorite!) or pouring another serving of punch into a champagne glass for him (coconut cream — also his favorite! That's lucky!); if he's not doing that, then he's pulling him into the middle of the room and sweeping him into graceful waltzes, the sort Luigi can only keep up with because 1) waltzes are all-in-all simple and predictable and 2.) Peach was insistent on teaching him the ins and outs of ballroom dancing just last week. All eyes are on them, and yeah, it's pretty overwhelming, but Peasley's just so happy that it's easy to get lost in the music with him.

But Luigi can only handle so much social interaction, and as soon as he starts focusing too hard on his hands and clicking his tongue in the back of his throat over and over, Peasley whisks him away to a private balcony for some fresh air.

"So?" he asks as Luigi decompresses from all the socialization. "Have you enjoyed your evening, my dear?"

Now that he's not surrounded by so much stimuli, Luigi can honestly say that yeah, he has! In spite of being the center of attention for most of it, he's never been able to enjoy himself at a party so much as he's enjoyed himself tonight. And now that he's away from it all, now that the music and the laughter are muffled someplace behind them and they're finally alone in the gentle night breeze, he's able to appreciate that in full.

And he's also able to think a little more clearly. This whole thing seems... off. Not unpleasantly so, but there's something going on, something beyond the straightforward premise presented to him initially. Why did Mario seem so eager for him to come to this gathering, when normally he would encourage Luigi to weigh the pros and cons of attending such a stamina-draining event? Why did Peach seem so eager to teach him all of the dances that he coincidentally found himself in tonight when she's normally so respectful of his need for personal space?

And why does Peasley seem so eager to hear more affirmations, smiling that I'm-so-terribly-pleased-with-myself smile and staring him down proudly as if he's just claimed some great victory?

"...Okay," Luigi finally chances, "what are you not telling me?"

Peasley, all but vibrating with excitement, finally spills everything.

In one of his letters, Luigi spoke of an old emotional wound from the world in which he was raised: he once tried asking a boy to his senior prom. This boy was a good friend, and he knew about Luigi's sexuality, so Luigi had foolishly assumed it was a risk worth taking. Even if he rejected his advances, there would be no hard feelings. Right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. The friend was mortified to learn that Luigi had a crush on him. He proceeded to subject Luigi to an onslaught of insults and beration, in the middle of a busy hallway for everyone to hear, and by the end of it Luigi had lost both a friend and what little sense of self-worth he possessed.

By the following school day, the ex-friend had two fewer teeth, Mario had been both suspended and grounded for it, and Luigi had accepted he'd probably be alone for the rest of his life. The brothers spent the night of their senior prom playing video games together.

And hearing this tale, Peasley had been crushed. To be given something so sacred as this perfect human's heart and react with such vitriol! To fill him with such sorrow that he would be denied access to a pivotal coming-of-age ritual (which is absolutely what he believes this "prom" ordeal is)!

And that's why everyone was asked to wear fashions from or styled after the Metro Kingdom tonight. In speaking with Mario behind Luigi's back, Peasley learned that this "prom" ritual was much like a party, and that the clothing worn for the occasion greatly resembled Metro fashion. With that, Peasley set out to correct that ancient heartache.

This is Prom 2.0. This entire party is for Luigi.

And hearing it, Luigi is almost embarrassed he didn't figure that out sooner. The simple but intimate dances, the earnest flattery, the snacks and drinks in his favorite flavors — this was never one of Peasley's standard parties. This was one giant, carefully crafted, probably very expensive love letter from a prince to a plumber.

"But... but that was years ago!" Luigi eventually manages to stammer. He hardly even recalls telling that story in the first place. He never imagined it would have such an impact.

"That doesn't make it alright." Peasley palms at the handle of his rapier, dark eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. "My goal is to one day seek out the portal between our worlds so that I may deliver swift, karmic justice to he who so terribly wronged you! But until that day comes... I do hope this makes up for it."

Luigi realizes, not for the first time overall but for the first time with mind-numbing certainty, that he wants to marry this man.

Neither of them return to the party. They remain together beneath the moon, laughing and sighing and sharing dizzy words of love. Hey, it’s Luigi’s party, and he can play hooky if he wants to.

#this may be my longest Informal Fic yet... #I got the idea from someone on twitter months back and only now have I been able to bring it into words! #phew... that felt good 😆 #super mario bros #smb #m&l rpgs #superstar saga #luigi #prince peasley #mario #princess peach #luisley #luigi x peasley #peaches' fancy fics #peaches has opinions

[star-rie]

when your servant is a little shite

-----------------------

Then Merlin looks at Gaius, who’s sitting there, eyeing him as if he knows what Merlin is going to do.

‘Merlin, no’

‘Merlin yes’

or

Merlin tests the limits of Arthur’s patience.

-----------------------

alternatively, ao3 link

original prompt

PART 1, PART 2 (you're here), PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6

-----------------------

While Merlin watches Arthur eat breakfast that morning, his stomach growls weakly. Merlin didn’t get the chance to eat that morning, heading straight to Arthur’s chambers to do his servant duties.

Merlin watches in interest at the ham that Arthur is biting. He can grab it later in the kitchen once Arthur finishes. Arthur is usually a fast eater, wanting to move the day as quickly as possible, there’s so much to do as a king after all.

Trying to distract himself, his mind drifted to the conversation that happened with Sir Ludenberg and that other noble the other day. What were they talking about again? Oh right.

Truthfully, Merlin wasn’t ashamed that he got criticized and is probably one of the topics of Camelot Royal Court’s gossip circle. Instead, he was thinking about the conversation that happened about Arthur not sacking him despite his poor work performance.

Merlin thinks it’s weird too. Arthur said it’s because he can’t find a servant as witty as him, but Merlin thinks it’s because Arthur is too much of a fool and a prat that other servants can’t stand him except for Merlin.

Merlin watches as Arthur licks a sauce with his spoon, his face wary, then floods with delight. See, he just proved his point. He didn’t even know what type of saucing that was!

Then Merlin got curious: if spending many nights at the tavern and very poor work performances aren’t enough to get him sacked, what will get him sacked?

Merlin thought of the time that Arthur had a servant other than Merlin, which was never. Except for that one time with George, oh George, Merlin had lots of fun with him last night, especially the part with the toads. But Arthur sort-of sacked him because he’s too boring, which Merlin can’t do.

Merlin wonders. What can he do?

His eye catches Arthur's other ham on the side of his plate, stomach protesting.

Wait.

Merlin smiles deviously as he dives into his plate, grabbing a piece of his ham and eating it.

"Mm,” he said, smiling in delight.

“Merlin, what on earth are you doing?” Arthur asks, looking very confused.

"Eating,” he swallows. “Sire,” he grabs another piece from his plate.

Arthur watches Merlin eat like a barbarian for a while before he leans on his chair and crosses his arm, looking very confused at Merlin’s behavior. Merlin didn’t say anything, in fact, he started to pull a chair for himself. Even taking Arthur’s plate from him.

"Mm.” Merlin nods at Arthur.

Arthur waits for an explanation while Merlin continues to eat. When Merlin looks like he won’t stop any time soon, Arthur moves to touch his hand on Merlin’s forehead. Merlin stopped eating at the contact.

“Merlin, were you at the tavern?” He asks, concerned

“What? No, no,” he said, drinking Arthur’s goblet. He puts them back on Arthur’s side of the table, the plate now half empty.

Well, Merlin expected to get kicked out by now, and he’s surprised that Arthur is actually concerned for him. “I’m just hungry, sire,”

“You’re hungry?” Arthur repeats

"Yup,” Merlin said, popping another ham into his mouth. He should add another excuse, just to piss him off. "Also, I am testing your food for poison.”

Arthur blinks. “Merlin, if the food had poison, I would already be dead.”

“No you’re not because I’m testing it” he said, drinking Arthur’s goblet

"Wow, I’m full,” he burps. "Sorry.”

Merlin thinks Arthur is too confused to kick him out, so he uses this opportunity to get out before Arthur can beat him up. “I’ll get you another batch,” he declares, leaving to go to the kitchen.

But what Merlin didn’t expect was that when Arthur finished breakfast, he told Merlin to bring two sets of cutlery the next day.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #arthur bbc #merthur #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #merlin fic #merlin fanfic #merthur fic #merthur fanfic

[shallyouobeyme]

Toad

Yandere!Solomon x Princess!reader/MC (GN) - Royal au

Summary: When you found out that your parents were planning to marry you off to some foreign noble your first reaction was to talk to your friend and families mage, Solomon, but maybe that wasn't the best choice...

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Arranged marriage, Lucifer Slander (I had to do it to em), drugging (kinda), talk about murder, imprisonment (also kinda), I do not condone this, this is all fantasy

Day 8 of my Yandere Writetober and I've stayed strong so far and written something every day, I hope I'll keep the energy. I could use some help for tomorrow with 'bounce' though, honestly, I have no idea what to write for that

Ever since you were a little child, your parents had instilled in you that eavesdropping was wrong and not very royal. It was one of the many things that were not appropriate for the children of the country's ruler. You've spent many nights listening to your tutors go on and on about etiquette and manners and behaviour, etc., etc., etc.

This was the reason that when you heard the sound of your parents talking coming through a slight opening of your father's study, your first instinct was to change directions and leave them to it. Then you heard your name. You were still a young adult- barely not a child anymore - so obviously your curiosity won over. Silently walking over to the wall near the door, you pressed your back against it and tried to tune into their conversation.

"Are you sure? Duke Lucifer isn't known to be very kind, it is said that he only wishes for an heir and nothing else. What about Prince Michael?"

"No, the celestial kingdom has no interest in an alliance whatsoever, they see themselves as mightier than anyone else."

"I assume that disqualifies Marquis Simeon as well," you heard your mother sigh - what were they talking about? Alliances? Heirs? The names of the foreign nobles were familiar to you, but that did not give you much context.

"Duke Lucifer - as cruel as he may be - is the highest ranking noble under King Diavolo, his kingdom is looking for alleys in their rivalry with Celestia. This is our chance to finally rise in the world," your father stated with this hunger for power in his voice that scared you whenever you heard it. "Think about it dear, Y/N isn't our firstborn, their older brother will take the throne, so marrying them off to Duke Lucifer and extending our reach in the world will help us more than having them here ever would."

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth in shock. This couldn't be real, couldn't be true- as a child, your parents had told you about how marrying each other for love was very important to them when they were your age, so you always assumed the same would be true for you. Surely your mother was opposed, right? no way she'd let you - her youngest child - get married off to some cruel Nobel that you had never even seen before and who was probably twice your age.

"You're right, if that's what's best for our family," your mother spoke, completely making you freeze. How was it the best for your family when it meant you'd get carted off to a foreign noble? Did you really mean that little to them?

You hadn't even noticed the salty streaks running down your cheeks, burning on your skin, nor did you notice your feet gaining a life of their own as you walked through the castle.

Only when you stood before the painting of your great-grandfather, which hid the secret entrance to one of the castle's towers did you realize where you were headed. Solomon's chambers.

Solomon had been the student of your family's mage up until the old man had taken his last breath and Solomon took over the position. Some thought him to be unqualified, after all, he was just a few years older than you, but you knew how powerful he was. You really thought that there was nothing he couldn't do. Ever since the two of you had met as children he'd shown you his magic, cheered you up whenever you were sad and helped you in every crisis - no matter how small.

When your pet had been attacked by a wild animal, he'd been the one to bring it back to life and heal its injuries, when a foreign spy had tried to take your life, he'd blown him off you in a magical explosion (not harming a single hair on your head) and turned him to dust in a single moment, even when you had realized that your dress was the wrong colour at an important banquet had he been the one to change it with a single swipe of his hand.

So it made sense that your subconscious mind immediately sent you to him when you realized your peril. After all, he'd promised you that he'd always find a solution, no matter what problem plagued you. Entering the secret passage, you quickly tried to wipe away your tears, not wanting to seem even weaker than you knew you would in just a few seconds, but it was hopeless. Solomon was always able to look right through you.

As you walked into the main room of his chambers, you felt a nice sort of comfort engulf you. The messy shelves and desks and even chairs which were filled with all sorts of magical gadgets and books and bottles of mysterious liquids were so familiar to you and yet they fascinated you anew every single time you visited. As if feeling your presence, Solomon came from out from one of the adjacent rooms the second you crossed the threshold.

"Your royal highness, it's a pleasure to have you as always," he smiled at you as he walked closer, his happy expression quickly turning into a frown once he noticed the redness of your cheeks - an unmistakable sign that you had cried.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he led you to a chair that was kept free of any junk just for the occasion of your visit. You fell into the seat and could almost feel your tears coming back.

"You know what, I'll go make you a tea with calming herbs, then you can tell me what troubles you," he said softly, waiting for a second as if hesitant to leave you alone, before leaving for only a minute before returning with a steaming mug that he put on a small table beside you.

"Now, tell me what happened MC." Usually, Solomon only called you by your official title, claiming that as your servant it was only appropriate, no matter how often you asked him to call you by your name like the friend he was. So, the fact that he called you MC, showed you that he was serious, that he was listening to you as your childhood friend Solomon and not as the court's mage.

"I-I overheard my parents, they- They are marrying me off. I don't know when or how, but... I'll get sent off to Devildom to be married to some Duke there. I'm just an end to a means for them..."

"What? No! They can't do that, that's not how- that's just not okay," Solomon exclaimed angrily, rage filling his eyes. He seemed even more enraged by it than you.

"It's horrible, but... I have no choice, do I? As a royal, I mean. I'm not the firstborn, I would have never become the next monarch anyways so maybe I was just idiotic to believe that I could live my life normally," you sighed, trying to stay calm, trying to be the bigger person as you were always taught.

"No! I can't them marry you off, I'm the one who-" Solomon raged on, running his hand through his hair as he stalked around the room, stopping himself in the middle of the sentence and before you could ask what he meant, he was kneeling on the floor before you, holding your hands. "What if there was a choice, what if I had a way out?"

Your eyes widened, but you trusted Solomon entirely, so you considered it honestly.

"I mean, if there is a way out, then yes. I want out. I don't want to be married off." You noded your head in excitement and Solomon sprang up again, telling you that he'd be back in a second and to wait for him.

You enjoyed the cup of tea he had prepared that was now a nice, drinkable temperature. Solomon always made the very best tea. Whenever you visited him and he prepared it for you, you felt so weightless, so free of worry, that you now tended to crave it whenever you were stressed or exhausted which also meant your visits to Solomon increased, not that either of you complained.

"Here it is, the way out," Solomon came back with a vile of turquoise liquid that he carefully held towards you. "Just a bit of this and this arranged marriage will never happen, in fact - this will allow you to marry for love."

"Really? That sounds amazing, almost too good to be true honestly," you let out a breathy laugh, for the first time ever feeling a little bit of doubt.

"Do you trust me?" Solomon asked you with his soft eyes and obviously, you did, so without thinking much, you took the vial, uncorked it and - after taking a deep breath to gather your nerves - took a swig of it. The liquid tasted a bit like what the local physician made you whenever you fell ill, the taste of strong herbs and flowers.

Just as the vial was emptied and you swallowed it all down, you suddenly felt a tingling throughout your entire body. And then you became really dizzy like the world around you was being shaken, but you were static.

"I-I don't feel very well, I think something is wrong," you managed to get out as the world around you seemed to be completely disconnected from you.

"Shhhh, it's okay, don't worry, I'm here. I'll take care of you now, my love," Solomon's whisper was the last thing you heard before you were engulfed by something unearthly...

Solomon walked into his bedroom, his one free hand swinging through the air as he conjured up something new to add to the interior. A box made of glass filled with moss and other plants was the perfect place for his beloved - at least until he had prepared everything. Until everything was perfect for the two of them to have their happily ever after together, no way in hell would he let some Devildom Noble take away his one true love, not over his dead body.

He walked towards the enclosure and lifted the lid, carefully setting down the toad he had held with the other. The toad seemed to look at him with those Y/E/C eyes that were more human than animal filled with contempt.

"I know my love, you don't understand it yet, but I promise you will soon, the two of us were meant for each other after all and as soon as I've taken care of that wannabe fiance of yours I'll show you just how much you mean to me, how much I'll soon mean to you," he closed the lid and watched as you hopped into an area of the enclosure that was filled with more plants to hide from him. "It's okay, I don't blame you. This is all your parent's fault, isn't it? Maybe once I've taken care of that damned duke, I should take care of them as well, after all your siblings might be more... open to my suggestions about your future, unlike that fool of a king."

Your croke of protest echoed through the room as Solomon made his way to leave to find out just who exactly he was planning to kill in the neighbouring kingdom.

#yandere #writetober #x reader #dark content #romantic yandere #tw: kidnapping #tw: yandere #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #yandere obey me #yandere!obey me #yandere solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #dark solomon #yandere!solomon x reader #lucifer obey me #diavolo #devildom #michael #simeon #royal au #tw: murder

[elitadream]

Love the idea that in the Bodyswap AU Luigi IMMEDIATELY knows that Mario is not himself (rightly so!). But after the initial shock Bowser could use that to his advantage. He might not be able to fool Luigi, but if he can fool everyone else then Luigi just looks like a raving madman. He doesn't even need to incapacitate him. Luigi has no concrete proof that it's NOT Mario.

After all, in Bowser's mind at least, who is the Mushroom Kingdom as a whole going to believe? The ever noble and brave red clad hero beloved by the Princess herself, or his clumsy and awkward brother who is startled by his own shadow? Luigi running around trying to warn people while Bowser is playing up the role of the good guy is just fascinating.

Right! Interestingly enough, in previous responses I was initially picturing Bowser as trying to act like Mario in front of Luigi for a bit, but I realized while sketching a few variations of that scene that it wasn't as impactful that way. 🤔 I ultimately found that Bowser knowing that this just wouldn't work with Luigi (and thus skipping any pointless attempt to delay that moment of realization with him) was more striking and efficient as a whole. 👀 Luigi was bound to find out in record time anyway, so Bowser didn't bother to try and pretend around him. He opted for collecting his terrified reaction to its full effect instead. 😈

Also, you're entirely right! It wouldn't matter to Bowser because he can still fool the citizens and the guards seamlessly, as he knows that Mario is considered the absolute most reliable source in the Kingdom aside from the Princess herself. Who amongst the toad population will get suspicious or suddenly start asking questions if he behaves more brazenly than usual? No one.

And just like you said, poor Luigi has no solid proof of what he's saying. It's basically his word against "Mario"s, and unfortunately for him, Mario's words weigh heavier in the balance to most. 😔

#asks #mario #luigi #body swap #personap concept #headcanon #toads #impostor scenario #thoughts and ramblings

[shelli-gator]

There really isn’t enough talk about Toad’s Adventure being an amazing fucking episode for James as a character so here we go I’m doing it.

“Thank you very much, sir!” “Call me James.”

This is so fucking important- This whole time Toad acts like he’s a second class citizen, some simple sidekick. Toad calls everyone Mister and sir to be subservient, putting them on a level above himself. But James levels with him, insisting on him just calling him James. He doesn’t want his ego stroked this time. THAT’S SO CUTE WHAT!?

“Actually Oliver, I think you should ask Toad about the adventure he had today.”

Even more important than that, James shows profound empathy here. Toad never had to tell him that he doesn’t feel listened to, doesn’t get to have his own story to tell. He picked it up on his own, especially after the way he treated him himself. And here’s the fucking kicker. James leaves right after to let TOAD tell the story without him. Not only does he relinquish any and all claim of the spotlight he might have had, but he also gives up control of the narrative. He can’t make himself look good, can’t hide his mistakes. He willingly gives up ‘looking good’ and embraces most likely being painted as the party at fault. None of that matters to him- he wanted Toad to have his moment in the sun. Because HE was the hero of this story, not him. It’s so fucking profound and wonderful, and speaks volumes of James as a character. More than just praising Toad for his work, he stands up for him and encourages him to have his MomentTM. That’s so fucking good. He’s a GOOD BOY. And more empathetic than people give him credit for. He has a big heart.

Other than that, it was just a really good episode! James and Toad were super funny, and I’m weak for James taking the hill at a dead out run. Very cool very impressive what a noble powerful creature. :]

Hehehe smol. <3

“You? What’s so special about you?” WHEEZE eat shit you’re about to get fucked up by a stick Mr. I Never Have Accidents.

Side note: James looking down at Toad’s brakes when he says they’re strong. What, you suddenly the expert on brakes now, James? Hmm? Stupid cunt <3 Shut up and take the brakevan.

“Oomf!” HAHAHA CRUNCH GOES THE KARMA STICK SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP (affectionate).

And then there was trouble. Poor Toad getting roped into James’ comeuppance. BUT! What I love about the whole affair is James comes running back down the hill, and is immediately taking the blame. “I’m sorry Thomas, I lost my train on the hill!” The way he words it is important, already taking ownership. Straight away he’s trying to make sure everyone is alright, very sincerely concerned and mournful for the trouble he’s caused. Sweetheart!

James very clearly still sure it was his fault regardless of what Toad said and WOW does he feel bad about it. He’s not used to not getting chewed out when he fucks up. ^^^^^^^^

Patting himself on the back for his character growth. Maybe he’ll even get a biscuit. That’s the face of an engine on his way to get a biscuit.

#shelli talks about trains again #I wish trains were real #ttte #thomas and friends #james the red engine #ttte james #rambling #toad's adventure #but daddy i love him! #this was a great episode for James nation #the old writers came back and they came back swinging for james #smiling huge just thinking about it #give that bastard a lotus biscuit #'call me james' was so very huge D of him if you know what i mean

[thornybubbles]

JJBA Yandere Scenario: Jealousy (The Jo-Foes: Dio/DIO)

Note: I'm going to post each character separately so I can get these out faster. I'm not satisfied with how this one came out. It felt really rushed at the end.

Dio/DIO

Jealous Dio is… complicated. When his mother died, Dio thought that his ability to love had died with her. His heart had all but shriveled into a pitiful lump of muscle that pumped pure hate through his veins instead of blood. When he met you, a friend and classmate of his foster brother, Jonathan, he despised you just as he did everyone else. He thought you to be annoying, crude, and loud. You were no better than the shrill voiced shrews that hung around in the seedy taverns and alleyways of the slums. You were nothing but a filthy guttersnipe that had no business mingling with the upper class, and he had intended to put you back in your place. 

He bullied you as relentlessly as he did Jonathan, but his tactics were a bit different. At school, Dio sat behind you in class. Sometimes he would grab your braid and dip it into his inkwell, then play it off like an accident while his lackeys snickered at your outrage. Sometimes he would run past you after school and knock your books out of your hands. Once he managed to knock them right into a mud puddle. You screamed and stomped your foot at him while he grinned back at you. Then there was the time he put a snake on your desk causing you to get a rather unpleasant surprise when you lifted the lid. It wasn’t poisonous, just a garden snake he found and brought to school especially to torment you, but that didn’t stop you from screaming bloody murder in the middle of class and causing a commotion. 

Bullying you felt different than bullying Jonathan. With Jonathan, it was merely a part of his ultimate goal to take the Joestar inheritance for himself. He hated naive, noble-hearted fools like Jonathan and enjoyed making the boy miserable, but it wasn’t the same kind of joy as he got from making you angry. Dio started tormenting you mostly because he wanted to separate Jonathan from any friends he had, but you were stubborn. Nothing he did seemed to drive you away. He started to see you as a challenge. Bullying you had become something of a game for him and he started looking forward to seeing your angry face every day. 

As time went on, you, Dio, and Jonathan had grown older and something had changed in the dynamic between you and Dio. While Dio was purposely treating Jonathan more civilly in an effort to throw suspicion off of himself in his plans to get George Joestar out of the way, you had begun to treat him rather coldly. You no longer glared at him whenever he spoke to you. Now you looked down your nose at him with a stony expression. It very nearly drove him mad. You had no right to look at him that way! Dio wouldn’t allow anyone to look down on him… especially not you!! 

Over the years, Dio came to a realization. He liked you. He genuinely liked you. It wasn’t simply a tolerance he developed for you in the same way he tolerated the sycophantic stooges that followed him around. He had actually developed a fondness for you. At some point he realized that his bullying you wasn’t just for his own amusement. He wanted your attention. Though, now he wouldn’t settle for your anger. He wanted your approval. He wanted your affection. To have you look at him as if he was nothing but a slimy toad squirming at your feet made him want to strangle you. 

Dio couldn’t say what it was that drew him to you in the first place. Maybe it was the way your cute face scrunched up when you yelled at him? Could it be the way your eyes glistened when you smiled? Or perhaps it was your care-free attitude that pulled him in? Maybe it was all of those things. All that he knew was that his initial opinions on you had changed. Regardless of your humble upbringing, you had grown into someone of taste and refinement on par with the most noble-born debutante. And yet you still had that fiery side to you that he adored when you two were children. The problem was that whenever you cast your eyes upon him, your smile would drop and your eyes grew cold and empty. He couldn��t have that. 

“Why do you look at me with such disdain?” He asked you one day. “Don’t tell me you’re still angry about all the things I did to you when we were children?” 

You turned to him, eyes cold as ever. 

“I look at you this way because you can’t fool me, Dio.” You said, voice just as cold as your eyes. 

“Fool you?” Dio asked. 

“You may have everyone in town eating out of the palm of your hand and even Jonathan seems willing to let bygones be bygones, but I’m not. The things you did to me were nothing but childish games, but what you did to Jonathan was monstrous and I will never forgive you for it.” You said, before turning on your heel and walking away from him. 

Dio’s hands tightened into fists. He ground his teeth so hard he thought his jaw would break.

Jonathan! 

Always Jonathan!!

He should have known that blue haired buffon was the reason you were acting like this. You were so disgustingly loyal to his foster brother that it seemed impossible to separate the two of you. Dio would find a way to pull you away from Jonathan, though. No matter what it took, he would have you to himself. He would have to put his plan into play soon, and then he could find a way to sway you to his side. If not, he would force you to accept him. No one denys Dio Brando and gets away with it.

That’s how you found yourself snatched away from all you knew, trapped in a castle full of monsters with no known way to escape. Your mind was reeling at everything that had happened to you in the past few days. Jonathan had found out that Dio had been poisoning his father and confronted him with the police. The confrontation ended with Jonathan’s father being murdered, the Joestar mansion being burned to the ground, and Dio becoming some kind of real-life vampire. You found out that Jonathan was recovering in the hospital and planned to go and see him, but you never got the chance. In the middle of the night, Dio himself showed up at your house and took you away. Why you didn’t know. All that you knew is that what little humanity that remained in Dio had been expunged completely. He was now something wholly other and you were terrified of him. 

Dio had swept you away to a creepy old castle in a town you’d never heard of and locked you away. The whole place was crawling with zombies, vampires, hideous chimeric creatures that were mixtures of human and animal, and other things that you didn’t think existed outside of those sleazy penny dreadful horror stories your parents forbid you from reading. You spent most of your time cowering in the corner of the room trying to come to terms with your situation while Dio draped himself across a velvet tufted chaise and watched you. 

“Do stop all that wincing and trembling.” He said, scrunching up his nose. “It doesn’t suit you at all.” 

You glanced over your shoulder at him, but caught a glimpse of the inhuman look in his eyes and had to look away. 

In the past, you had always referred to Dio as a monster, but now he was a monster in the very literal sense of the word. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Such things as vampires shouldn’t exist in the real world, but here you were, stuck in a room with one. You were on the verge of having some kind of crisis. 

“Did you hear me?” Dio’s voice called out to you in irritation. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. You just wanted to stare at the stone wall and pretend that none of this was happening. You heard Dio getting up and shrank in on yourself, closing your eyes tightly. 

Dio scowled. This is not what he wanted from you at all. Where was your fiery spirit? Where was your disdain? He’d gladly take your cold stares over this cowardly side of you that started  showing since he took you. Part of him, though, felt that this was exactly what you deserved for daring to look down on him. Still, it was beginning to annoy him. 

He crossed the room and knelt down next to you. 

“Are you really so frightened of me, my pet?” He whispered directly into your ear. 

You screamed and covered your ears. You started sobbing. 

Dio wasn’t having it. He snatched your hands away from your ears. 

“You dare try to drown me out?” he bellowed. “You will hear me!” 

He spun you around to face him. 

“And you will see me!” he snarled. 

“Dio, please!” you cried. “Let me go! Just let me go home!” 

You continued to beg him to let you go, but no matter what you said your pleas fell on deaf ears. He had no intention of letting you go now that you were in his grasp. He’d wanted you all to himself for so long, was it really too much to ask that you want him back? 

Looking at your fearful expression was taking a toll on him. He wasn’t sure, but the feeling it stirred within him may have been guilt. It was hard for him to tell, because guilt was something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Unable to take your pathetic sobbing and pleading, he placed a hand over your mouth. You froze in terror, feeling his claws lightly scrape against your cheek. 

“Whatever happened to my little wildcat?” he asked in a despondent tone. 

The genuine despair in his voice caught you off guard, but you remained wary. You didn’t trust Dio any further than you could throw him. 

“What happened to the vicious little hellion that would kick me in the shins and call me nasty names? Are you so easily cowed by what I’ve become?” he asked. 

You suddenly found yourself pressed up against his chest as his arms encircled you. You stiffened up, mind going blank and unable to process what was happening. He was so cold. Not an ounce of body heat could be felt. His heartbeat was barely there. It beat as if it was only doing so out of habit, but not fully dedicated to the task. There was truly nothing human about Dio anymore. 

“I didn’t think you would ever be this easily frightened. I suppose I should have suspected it with how you reacted to the snake.” he said, his thoughts going nostalgic. 

“Do you remember the snake, my love? How you screamed… though not nearly as loudly as the teacher!” 

Dio released a laugh that echoed throughout the room. It was joyful but slightly tinged with melancholy. It didn't sound right coming from him. It sounded too normal. Too wholesome. Too human. His laughter died down after a moment and he sighed, laying his head over the top of yours. 

“Y-you can’t k-keep me here, Dio,” you said, still desperately trying to make him see reason. 

Dio grimaced at your stubborn need to pester him about letting you go. Couldn’t you see that it would never happen? Couldn’t you understand that you were destined to be with him for all eternity? 

“What makes you think that I can’t?” Dio murmured against the top of your head. He nuzzled into your hair, enjoying the texture of it against his skin. 

“J-Jonathan will come for me!” You cried. 

Dio suddenly grasped you by your upper arms and glared down at you. You had never seen him with an expression so furious before. 

“JONATHAN! ALWAYS JONATHAN! CAN YOU THINK OF NOTHING ELSE?!” His voice had all the fearsome rage of a dragon’s roar. 

You shrank away from him, turning your head to the side and squeezing your eyes closed. You were certain he would strike you, but he never did. Instead he apologized, something you never thought you would hear him do. 

Then he snapped your neck. 

You slumped backwards in his arms, your head hanging at an odd angle. Dio stared at you in dismay. While he fully intended to kill you, seeing the aftermath of it still upset him. Of course, he wasn’t as upset as he should have been, but in his world, death no longer held much weight. He cradled your body and rose from the floor. He went over to the overstuffed chaise and laid you down on it. He arranged your body in a position so that you looked as if you were only sleeping. 

“As much as I loathe it when you mention that buffoon’s name, you are right, my dear. I have no doubt Jonathan will come for you and try to take back the only thing I could never take from him.” he spoke to your unhearing corpse. 

He slid a claw against his wrist, slicing it open. His thick blood poured from the wound, dripping down onto the floor and seeping into the stone. He reached over and sliced a deep cut into your throat. Your own blood gushed forth, staining your clothes crimson. He held his dripping wrist over your throat, mingling his blood with your own. After a moment, both the wound on his wrist and your throat began to heal and seal up. The effects of his blood were already working their dark magic on you. 

“But when he finds you, he will know that I have claimed you fully, and he will never be able to take you from me. You are mine for all of time.” 

Jonathan did come for you as you expected. He found you in Dio’s room, resting on a chaise in what he thought was a deep slumber. He shook you, gently slapped at your face, but nothing seemed to rouse you. 

“Mr. Joestar,” Speedwagon spoke solemnly. He took off his hat and placed it over his heart. “I don’t think she’s with us anymore.” 

Jonathan looked at  Speedwagon with horror. 

“No! That can’t be true!” he shouted, tears welling up in his eyes. 

He’d lost so much, he couldn’t bear to lose you too. Not the little loudmouth that had become like a younger sister to him. 

“Please,” he whispered as he held you to him. “Please don’t go…” 

Imagine his surprise when you opened your eyes. 

Jonathan reeled back in shock, falling on his backside. His shaggy haired friend let out a cry of horror. 

Your eyes were not as Jonathan remembered them. Their color had changed to a golden yellow with slight tints of red. They glowed like hellfire embers. They looked down at Jonathan with confusion. 

“Jonathan?” you said.

“She’s been turned, Mr. Joestar!” Speedwagon shouted. 

Jonathan didn’t really need Speedwagon to tell him that. No human had eyes like that. When he came to Dio’s castle to rescue you, his only worry had been if Dio had killed or brutalized you in some way. The thought of Dio turning you into a monster like himself never even crossed his mind. 

“Jonathan?” You queried, worry in your voice. 

The fear in his gaze filled you with dread. You knew, though. You could feel the burn of Dio’s blood in your veins. You could feel it sluggishly coursing through you and it made you want to vomit. You glanced down at your blood soaked clothes and at your black clawed hands and screamed.

-----

Jonathan refused to kill you. He simply couldn’t bring himself to do it. He could see in your eyes, inhuman though they were, that you weren’t the evil villain that Dio was and he wanted to help you. He said that there may be a cure for your “condition”. You wanted to believe that was true, but you had a feeling that nothing could reverse what Dio had done to you. You were a vampire now, and you would have to live for all of time as a monster that shouldn’t exist. 

Jonathan brought you back to stay with him and Erina. They were due to get married soon, but he wanted to make sure that you were safe and protected. You were surprised by how easily Erina welcomed you, especially since you were no longer human and tainted by the blood of the man that drove her away for so long. Jonathan told you that Dio was dead and that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. You knew that simply wasn’t true. Your blood told you. You could feel that he was still out there somewhere. You tried to warn Jonathan of this, but you didn’t think he took you seriously. He and Erina got married and decided to go on a cruise for their honeymoon. You warned them once again to be careful. It wasn’t long after that, that Speedwagon gave you the terrible news that their ship had sunk. Erina survived, though and was with child, but… Jonathan was dead. 

Along with Speedwagon, you proved to be a valuable friend to the Joestar family, using your vampiric abilities for the benefit of Erina and her descendants. You knew that’s what Jonathan would have wanted. She was grateful for it and you were grateful for her continued protection and support. You followed the Joestar family journey right up until young Joseph fought with the Pillarmen. You helped him as best as you could. It was because of you that he had so much insight on vampires and knew how to take down Straizo. When Kars was defeated, you assumed that things would quiet down. It did… for a little while. 

At some point during the late 1980’s, an elderly Joseph came to you with bad news. Dio was alive and somewhere in Egypt. He told you that he, his friend Avdol, and his grandson Jotaro were going to the Middle East to face him. He told you that you were to be sent to a hidden place to be guarded by Speedwagon Foundation agents to keep Dio from finding you. Unfortunately, you never made it to your destination. Dio’s minions had been searching for you ever since he’d been pulled up from what should have been a watery grave. His minions intercepted your trip to the Foundation safe house, killed the agents accompanying you, and took you straight to DIO. 

And now you stood before a part of your past that you thought you’d never have to deal with again. 

DIO seemed different from the last time you saw him. It wasn’t just that his demeanor had become even more otherworldly,  he seemed to have grown taller and bulkier than you remembered. He had such a smug look on his face as he looked down at you. 

“Did you really think you’d seen the last of me?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“I had hoped that was the case.” You stated harshly. 

DIO’s smile broadened. He seemed delighted by your snark. 

“How I missed you, my little wildcat.” He cooed and rose from his throne. As he walked up to you, his silhouette took on a vaguely familiar shape. It reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t remember who. DIO stopped in front of you, towering over you and grinning in a devilish way. 

“I look different, don’t I?” he said with thinly veiled glee. “Care to guess why?” 

The Dio you remembered had a lythe and athletic build, but this DIO looked like a powerhouse. You couldn’t understand why, though. How had he gained such a body when he’d been locked in a coffin under the sea for so many years? It’s not like he had the means to do any bodybuilding. 

DIO pointed a claw-tipped finger at a scar that circled around his neck. 

“In that fight with Jonathan, I’d been beheaded. My original body was destroyed so I had to procure a new one. And you’ll never guess who’s body I chose to replace it with.” DIO said. 

His eyes seemed to glow brighter as he told you this. He was very clearly amused by your growing discomfort. You had grown tired of the guessing games. 

“Who’s body, DIO?” You asked. “Who’s body is it?” 

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize the body of the man you were so disgustingly close to in your human life.” DIO mocked. 

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open in shock and horror. 

“NO!” you cried. 

“Yes.” DIO said. “I took Jonathan’s body as my own after I killed him!” 

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry and pull at your hair. But you didn’t. It wouldn’t do any good now. 

“Don’t be so upset.” DIO said as he drew you into an unwanted embrace. You tried to break free from him, but his hold was too strong. 

“I always hated how close you were to Jonathan. Even as a child, before I fully understood my feelings for you, I wanted to separate you from him. But you always stuck by him no matter what. So, this is an ideal situation isn’t it? I get to have you and you get to have your precious Jonathan.” 

DIO laughed cruelly as you shed tears for the first time in many, many years.

#yandere dio #dio #dio brando #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #phantom blood #yandere #reader insert #stardust crusaders #yandere jjba #yandere dio brando #yandere dio x reader #yandere dio brando x reader #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere scenario #yandere scenarios

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

*walks in with donuts for your latte* Yay I’m glad you’ge finished your exams 🥳💕 and I’m sure you passed them all!! For the OC ask game; may I ask for 2, 4, 6, and 20 for Elenora please 🥺💕?

*takes a donut* Thank you Lyra! Keeping fingers crossed! 🤞Then, let's welcome Nora up to the stage ^^

Hmm... I'm up first huh?

2. Who is your best friend?  Tell us about them!

*Lets out a thoughtful hum while looking up* I guess... Mereo obanue would be my best friend. Leo ojinue is pretty cool too though. ... Actually, all of my family is cool, but they're not "friends" in the way people mean it most of the time. And while I hang out a lot with Mereo obanue, she's more of a cool aunt.

Lately I've been hanging out with Kito. He's too much in his head, but once he grabs himself by the neck, he has promise. ... Actually, since he kept us from falling into that mirror cavern, I should say that he already is. And for the record, because people like to stir up gossip, especially when two royal families are involved, we are just friends. Really.

Oh, and Natalia is quite awesome too, the same as Vivian... Hmm... I guess I don't have A best friend, but I have many really good friends with whom to spend time.

(Edit: Natalia belongs to @kalolasfantasyworld, Vivian to @loosesodamarble and Kito @/lyranova)

4. What is your least favorite childhood memory?

... Oh I gotta answer this one too, huh? Well... Mother and Father are used to me stirring things in the kingdom, and it's not like I rattle the cage when it's not needed. It's just that sometimes these damn assholes, I mean-, ... hypocritical nobility, should learn a thing or two. They act like they think they're better people while not caring for the majority of the population. They're just not nice people to be around, and because most can't ... rattle them, I'm doing that.

Anyway... I remember this one time when... I had done a thing and mother just gave me a look, and sighed, and she looked very sad. After which she proceeded to say "Nora... sweetheart, I'm disappointed in your behaviour today."

I know it doesn't sound like much, but... my parents do stand behind me most of the time. They might not really agree with how I do things, but that was the one time they really seemed upset with what I did. So... it stung.

6. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

One thing again huh? It's hard to choose one thing over many others, because there are instances and components to many aspects of life that can make it better, or harder, or worse, than others a lot of the times. But um... if I needed to pick one I guess... I guess it would be the time when I went on a hunt for the first time by myself.

It was a good experience, but being out in the wilderness alone for the first time was definitely a tough experience in a lot of ways.

20. Describe your biggest pet peeve.

Over enunciating things. Like, yeah, sure, you're very *noble* and so forth, but... you're just coming out pretentious. And... I might, or might not, have acquired a potion once or twice that made such a person croak like a toad for a day, when I was particularly annoyed.

Of course they got their voice back with no harm done on anything except their ego

---

That's it? Cool :3

#oc ask game #eleonora vermillion #fuelara #fuegoleon x solara next gen

[redux-iterum]

Oh Monster Sanctuary! Hope you don't mind a billion questions. What do you think of the game? What's your favorite part of the game? Favorite designs and least favorite designs? Favorite team for the arena if you've played around in it? Favorite team over all? Also what team did you use to beat a certain boss in a sunny/yellow tower area? (That one kicked my ass before I found a good team.)

The Polterofen is probably my favorite over all, with it being on my teams most of the time. I can't really decide on a most favorite design but Manticorb is strangely adorable.

I got the game during the Christmas sale when my boyfriend gave me a $18 for spending on Steam, so I got that along with Horizon Zero Dawn (haven't played that yet, don't ask me about it). I only got up to unlocking the dueling tower and I haven't picked it up the game in a while, I should return to it, I've been busy setting up Artificer on a pearl quest in Rain World.

As I've only seen a dozen monsters, I'm just gonna say my opinions on the general creature design. The creature designs initially didn't appeal to me due to their... generic-fantasy-ness, and I haven't quite warmed up to them since. The only ones I really like are the Spectral Beasts that you start out with (I picked the Lion, his name is Noble).

I really have not gotten far into the game, but I'll pick it up again next week. Platforming feels a little slippery. Combat is interesting, if a little slow. I want to kick the prettyboy with the Spectral Wolf in the teeth and I'm down for revenge for my loss against the nerd with the Spectral Toad. It's so far a fine game, not amazing, but competent. The graphics are pleasing to look at, even if the creature design isn't to my taste. I was never a fan of the classic look of JRPGs like Dragon Quest and early Final Fantasy and so on. Chrono Trigger too. I dunno, they never appealed to me.

As of getting my butt kicked by a scarecrow with glasses, here are the monsters on my person.

#im the best at names #even if i dont like the monster i gave em a good name #my bf did name grinch tho #ask #anonymous #lynx #editor #not warriors

[rangersav]

@oathwilled; "maybe we should head back to camp" // things my friends' muses have said

"Shh -- not yet," a firm hand reaches back to press against Paerin's armor, gently halting his stride. "I've got a better idea." Beams of low sunlight filter through the dense foliage, casting dappled patterns upon the forest floor. Maverick's gaze pierces through the lush surroundings to fixate on a young buck feeding in the distance. They've been at this for hours, the camp's food supply running dangerously low after almost two weeks of following the same muddled dirt road. The creche isn't far off, no, but considering what little he knows of the Githyanki, Maverick isn't keen on the idea that they'll welcome them with a vibrant feast.

The ranger deftly nocks his arrow, the feathered fletching whispering against the taught string as he draws his bow with deliberate care, aligning his aim upon the noble buck. Brows narrow in concentration, his breath steady, quiet. "Right there..." His murmured words hang in the air, a silent invocation to the gods as anticipation coils within him like a tightly wound spring. He licks his lips, already salivating with the promise of dinner, and steps out --

-- right on a sleeping toad.

A loud croak rings out followed by a squish, and Maverick can't help but lose his balance, stumbling forward. "Shit!" He whips his head up just in time to see the buck sprinting away, deeper into the forest -- and far away from them. "Gods dammit." A frustrated huff falls from his lips, a reddish tint touching his cheeks as he turns to look at Paerin. " -- on second thought, let's go with your idea."

#› pairing ‹ oathwilled ☽ #( i had too much fun with this )

[justaz]

visiting nobles/lords/royals quickly notice that merlin has arthur’s ear and that arthur values merlin’s opinion above all others. when they’re having trouble convincing arthur to go along w their plan or sign their Important Document, they go to merlin to try and convince him to convince arthur. merlin knows what they’re doing. merlin does not want to push arthur one way or another, he wants arthur to make his own choices and lead his people as he sees fit. merlin satisfies both of their needs by seeming apologetic that he can’t convince arthur of this but maybe they can and gives them “tips and tricks” on how to soften arthur up to agreeing to the plan.

its all bullshit.

so far he’s convinced a princess (looking for marriage) that arthur loves frogs and pranks so she filled his chambers with a bunch of toads (arthur is terrified of frogs), a lord (was “wronged” by another lord and wanted a portion of his land) that arthur is a fan of the arts, particularly music, and he ended up breaking into song and dance in front of everyone, and a nobleman (arguing against the repealed magic ban and hoping to bring back uther’s laws) that arthur LOVES potatoes and to just give him one throughout the day whenever he seems him so arthur will associate the nobleman with the joy of receiving his favorite food so he’ll be more inclined to the nobleman’s request (arthur despises potatoes).

#arthur knows what merlin is doing but cant tell his visitors otherwise merlin might get in trouble with them #so arthur plays along #he laughs at the toads #he watches the performance with a kind smile #he takes every potato with a thin smile before tossing it in the pig pens outside #and in the end waits for them to leave before turning to merlin and attempting to admonish him but merlin is too busy laughing his ass off #arthur gives up #besides. its a little funny. #and entertaining when before negotiations and petitions and meetings were so goddamn boring #(and merlin is just absolutely gorgeous when hes laughing at his plans coming to completion. the way his cheeks flush and his eyes twinkle #the way his laugh eventually goes breathless. how sometimes he has to grab onto arthur for support so he doesnt fall down. the way the su-) #ahem. anyways. #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon

[adarkrainbow]

As an addendum to the previous post, but on a completely different topic:

During his intervention, Tony Gheeraert was asked a question about Charles Perrault's relationship to the court based on his own time under Colbert, and Gheeraert gave a brief but interesting answer that refered to a greater topic that allows one to better understand the Perrault fairytales.

Now, if you didn't know, at the peak of his career, Charles Perrault was working under Colbert - one of the main ministers of Louis XIV, working as a State secretary and as a minister of Finances, and this is how Perrault could become part of the royal court. The question was asked in relation to the whole "fairytale authors praised the mercantilism" of their time, because Colbert was one of the "culprits" behind this mercantilism as he was the figurehead that developed heavily the industries and the commerce under Louis XIV.

Gheeraert was asked if Perrault stayed, in his fairytales, "Colbert's man", and if his position as one of the minister's underlings did influence his fairytales. And Gheerart answer was, no. For him, the Perrault of fairytales was NOT the "Perrault of the Court" or the "Perrault of Colbert". Because after Colbert's death in 1683, Perrault was basically disgraced, as he lost his position, lost his protector and got gently but firmly pushed out of the Court and sent away - I'll return to that when I speak of Perrault's life. For Gheeraert - but he repeated this, it is only his own opinion - the Perrault of the fairytales was the bitter, disgraced Perrault who still held a grudge towards the king and the king's current politics.

Indeed, through Perrault fairytales, we see a very heavy criticism of kings and the monarchy. Take Puss in Boots - a miller boy and his cat can easily fool the monarchy into believing he is an actual noble using his good looks and a few well-placed gifts ; the king is shown as an ignorant drunkard who will believe anything ; the already established lord is an ogre... Same thing within Little Thumbling, where titles are shown to be easily bought or given, and Thumbling's time as the messenger of the court allows for a harsh criticism of the habits of the court (such as everybody cheating on everybody's spouse).

Many historians and a few other fairytale analyst had pointed it out before, but Perrault has a very dark and negative representation of kings and kingly powers in his fairytales - from the ambiguous Sleeping Beauty prince with an ogress-mother to the incestuous king of Donkey Skin.

And in general, despite Perrault's fairytales being accused today of being misogynistic, through his stories feminine characters, girls and women are usually truly valorized and positive whereas masculine figures are discredited or vilified. What do you get for men? As I said - the incestuous Donkey Skin king... The Sleeping Beauty prince who abandons his wife to an ogress.. Cinderella's father who lets his daughter be abused... Bluebeard... The Big Bad Wolf... Ogres... Even Little Thumbling, the supposed hero, is still a thief with morally ambiguous behavior...

While on the side of women we have a lot of heroines and positive figures: Donkey-Skin, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, and of course the various fairy godmothers. Mind you there's still negative figures (the wicked step-sisters, the bad sister of Diamonds and Toads, the ogress-mother), but in general, the women get a much more positive depiction than men.

#charles perrault #french fairytales #perrault fairytales #gender in fairytales #monarchy in fairytales

[littlemochix17]

Chapter 10

Words: 14.2K

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

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

"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. Harry could 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. "Now in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates but before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your Houses."

"They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your House will be like your family, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rulebreaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup-"

"Trevor!" Neville said as he pushed through the crowd to pick up his little toad

He looked up at Professor McGonagall and apologized then went back to standing up with the others while (Y/n) gave him a reassuring smile seeing how nervous he was

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes before the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as possible while 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.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall.

"Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"It's true then"

Ron, Harry and (Y/n) looked over at the blonde boy who (Y/n) fought with on the train and she scrolled

"What they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts" he smirked and moved forward towards the three friends while everyone started whispering

"This is Crab and Goyle" He introduced the two boys beside him

"And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." As he finished Ron snickered at him and Draco scowled at him

"You think my name is funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand-me-down robe you must be a Weasley." Ron frowned while (Y/n) glared at Malfoy then his eyes met hers and he sneered at her and looked back at Harry

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others Potter. You don't wanna go making friends with the wrong sort"

"I can help you there" he finished as he stretched his hand for a handshake but Harry looked down at it and then back at Malfoy

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself Thanks," Harry replied to a now-shocked Malfoy then McGonagall tapped him and he walked away

"We're ready for you now follow me" She said

Harry swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" he asked Ron. While the three of them followed the professor with the other students

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

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. Harry tried hard not to listen to her. 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.

Harry felt a warm hand take his and give it a gentle squeeze as if telling him it going to be fine. He turned his head to see his (E/c) friend smiling at him nervously. Even though she knows a handful of spells she can't help but feel nervous and she notices the look on Harry's face. Harry smiled at her little attempt to calm him down and he squeezed her back then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air several people behind him screamed.

"What the- ?"

Both of them 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? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not 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 two lines," Professor McGonagall told the first years,

"and follow me."

Feeling odd as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with (Y/n) beside him and Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair 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, Harry looked upward

and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, to (Y/n) who was in front of her.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open onto the heavens. 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 frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house. 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 are 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;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you have a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

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."

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. 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.

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 moment's 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.

"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 the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all, he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

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

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry 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 minute 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.

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?

"You're going to be just fine" he heard a voice say and looked to his side

"Don't overthink it too much you look like you're going to faint any moment" said the (H/c) headed girl while waiting for McGonagall to call out for the next name. Her words calmed him down a bit she was right he was probably overthinking it.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, 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 to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

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.

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon" . . . , "Nott" . . . , "Parkinson" . . . , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" . . . , then "Perks, Sally-Anne" . . . , and then, at last-

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, (Y/n) gave him a thumbs up and whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

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. The 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, oh 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!"

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, that he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid and Eleanor, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up while Eleanor smiled at him. Harry grinned back. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd 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. And now there were only five 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!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin.

"(L/n), (Y/n),"

The girl was looking around the Great Hall while walking to the hat and she a few people who waved at her and gave her encouraging smiles like Cedric from the Hufflepuff table and Regulus from his seat at the Slytherin table now she sat at the stool at the hat on her head, hearing its voice in her head

'Oh I got to sort both of you today how interesting'

'Both of us?'  Thought the girl

'Never mind that you have a loyal heart but can also be quite ambitious if you want to and are not afraid to say what's on your mind hmm you're quite a hard one but I know where to put you. You are the first of them to be put in a different house'

After that, the hat shouted out

"GRYFFINDOR!"

(Y/n) smiled as she looked at her friends at the Gryffindor table not noticing McGonagall's shocked face making her way down to the table in the seat between Harry and Ron

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.

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 and (Y/n) chose to stay quiet and just clap with everyone else.

"Is he- a bit mad?"

he asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily.

"He's a genius! Best wizard in the

world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he 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 Harry, but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked only when (Y/n) was the one who brought him food. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

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

"Can't you- ?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost.

"I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly making the girl beside him look at the ghost as well. "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?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"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 were on a hinge. Someone had tried to behead him but had 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! 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.

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

"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 éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "My 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 Ron.

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

"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, and I nearly drowned — 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 down the garden and into the road. They were all 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."

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").

Harry, who was 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. He also noticed her handing him a few golden Galleons while Dumbledore smirked at her. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

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

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

"Harry? Are you alright?" (Y/n) stopped eating and looked over her friend checking on him and he just nodded at her

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.

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

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to everyone know 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.

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

"Ahem. 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.

"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."

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

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

"I don't think he's joking around. He's serious" (Y/n) frowned

"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.

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 favourite tune," said Dumbledore,

"and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we are old or 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 forgotten,

Just do your best, and we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

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. He was 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 Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

As for (Y/n) she was fascinated by everything she saw around that looked different from the muggle world comparing everything she saw with what Cedric told her about.

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." 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.

"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 cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and (Y/n) waved at the boys following Percy then he came back to lead the boys through another door. 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 tarts, but he fell asleep almost at once.

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 the next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.

Main while (Y/n) was sitting at her bed with a book of potions because she wasn't sleepy yet when she saw her roommates, Lavender and Parvati, walking up to her she closed her book and looked at them as they smiled down at her

"Hi I'm Lavender and this is Parvati"

"(Y/n) it's nice to meet you" replied the girl

"So we just wanted to ask are you friends with Harry Potter? We saw both of you at the feast together" asked Parvati

"Um- yeah we have been friends for as long as I can remember" (Y/n) said awkwardly fiddling with her fingers

"That's so cool can you introduce us we're big fans"

"Oh yeah sure I er- will see what I can do"

 

The two girls squeaked in excitement and walked away while the (Y/n) felt an odd feeling in her chest but dismissed it and continued to read her book of potions. She didn't know what was bothering her was it the feeling of her being used just so people could meet Harry? Or was it the disappointment that the two girls didn't come to befriend her? She hoped when she came to Hogwarts she could make some girl friends

"What potion are you reading about?"

Her thoughts were interpreted by someone and she looked up only to see the girl who was standing behind her on the sorting

"Wiggenweld Potion"

"The one that cures minor damage

Awakens a person from magically-induced sleep?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, I read about it as well while I was back home, it's a real helpful potion, it can even be used to cure anyone under the effects of the Draught of Living Death which causes the drinker to fall into a deep, death-like slumber" The girl explained,

Both girls started talking about potions and (Y/n) discovered that the girl's name was Hermione at first (Y/n) didn't like how she bragged about her knowledge but after talking for a while she got past it and they talked for quite a bit before going to sleep

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair and the girl with (H/l) (H/c)."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoes to get a look at him or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Harry wished they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts:

wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then some doors wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was sure the coats of armour could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech,

"GOT YOUR CONK!"

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

Filch owned a cat called Mrs Norris, a scrawny, just-coloured creature with bulging, lamplike eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs Norris a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry and (Y/n) quickly found out, then waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

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

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and

got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite

right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said.

"Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.

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

garlic as well so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

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

There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry, Ron and (Y/n). They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

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

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron.

"I can't wait for it I would finally be able to try out making potions. I wasn't able to practice anything over the summer" (Y/n) smiled excitedly as she ate a chocolate tart

"Don't be Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favours them we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," said Harry.

Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great

Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

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

Dear Harry, I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Oh and bring (Y/n) with you if you can I want to meet her finally in person. Hagrid

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled Yes, please, see you later on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.

It was lucky that Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry. he hated him. Potion lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was

colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

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

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making,"

he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

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

dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. And (y/n) just listened waiting for Snape to start the lesson

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

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

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

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

He ignored Hermione's hand.

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

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who was shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys' but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi? Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

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

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

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

"I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down, silly girl" he snapped at Hermione.

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

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

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

Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilt potion away with one wave of his wand.

"I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

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

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

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

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered,

"I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

"Hey" Both of them looked in the voice's direction

"Are you guys alright?" (Y/n) asked from her table which she was working at with Hermione. Both of the boys nodded reassuring their friend.

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week why did Snape hate him so much?

"Cheer up," said Ron,

"Yeah Ron is right we still have the whole year to earn points for Gryffindor don't worry about Snape"

"Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?" Harry smiled at his friends and agreed to Ron's request

"(Y/n). Hagrid said he would like for you to come as well" He said  as the girl nodded

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of goloshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying,

"Back, Fang- back."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears, (Y/n) took a few steps away from him making sure he doesn't go for her next. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles.

"I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

"Yer must be (y/n)"

(Y/n) smiled at him and nodded 

"It's nice to meet you Hagrid"

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry, (Y/n) and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git''

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her Filch puts her up

to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron and (y/n), told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid.

"Why should he?"

Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron.

"I liked him a lot great with animals."

Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons and (Y/n) sipping her tea, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under

the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing

had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spoke goblin this afternoon.

Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

"Hagrid!" said Harry,

"that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As Harry, (Y/n) and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Harry thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry?

Harry had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than Dudley, but that was before he met Draco Malfoy. Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor's common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," said Harry darkly.

"Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably.

"Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

"He's an idiot who isn't good at anything but bragging and Snape's classes because, of course, Snape would be favoring him" The girl rolled her eyes at the thought of the Slytherin boy she then turned to Harry and Ron

"We could always skip class if you don't want to go I am not a big fan of heights anyway" She shivered as the two boys laughed at her face and she chuckled as well.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the House Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the

only one, though the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most

of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick.

Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt she'd had good reason because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

(Y/n) was thinking of ways to skip that class if necessary not wanting to be above the ground or anywhere near a broom at all it wasn't until Harry and Ron reassured her she was going to be fine and that they probably wouldn't have to fly above the ground on their first class.

And Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail. Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

Harry saw Honey flying towards them and his little claws were holding a letter giving it to (Y/n)

"Who is it from" Asked Harry curiously knowing that neither of them had anyone that really sent them letters

"Probably Leonora she had to go somewhere after the sorting and she's coming back tomorrow," said the girl and opened her letter

Dear (Y/n) How do you like Hogwarts so far? We haven't had time to see each other since you came here so I was thinking how about meeting at the black lake tomorrow after classes write to me when you have the chance Love, Cedric

Smiling down at the letter and putting it inside her skirt pocket, a barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained.

"Gran knows I forget things this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red oh...."

His face fell because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet,

"you've forgotten something...."

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left which of course didn't help his (E/c) eyed friend with her nerves as time goes by.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, ggreyhair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked.

"Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front,

"and say 'Up!' "

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did.

"Wow," said Harry and looked to his right to see (Y/n) with her broom in hand and Hermione looking at them in disbelief. 

 Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. 

"Up!" Ron said frustrated causing his broom to fly up and hit him straight in the face which made Harry stifle his laugh but (Y/n) couldn't 

"Shut up you two" Ron said grumbly as groaned and rubbed his face 

 Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch.

"Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle three. two-"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle twelve feet, twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and- WHAM. a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter.

"Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump? "

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass.

"It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him. Maybe if the fat lump had given this a squeeze he would've remembered to fall on his fat arse."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up and all Slytherins laughed again.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"No, I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. how about up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy leapt onto his broomstick and took off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called,

"What's the matter, Potter? A bit beyond your reach?"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"Harry! no way" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move. you'll get us all into trouble. besides you don't even know how to fly"

Harry ignored her.

"What an idiot," Hermione said rolling her eyes while (Y/n) looked worried 

 Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught this was easy, this was wonderful. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron. He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here," Harry called,

"or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"Is that so?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried. Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Have it your way, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down the next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching he stretched out his hand a foot from the ground, he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight. He toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. He got to his feet, trembling.

"Never- in all my time at Hogwarts-"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously,

"How dare you?! might have broken your neck!"

"Professor, he wa-"

"Be quiet, Miss (L/n)-"

"But Malfoy-"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he'd done it. He hadn't even lasted two weeks. He'd be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, it was going to be worse now he would go back alone, and still, Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid's assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid's bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him? But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry.

"In here."

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply.

"The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

Harry nodded silently. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feelings started coming back to his legs.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood.

"Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him.

"Light speedy we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks...."

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry.

"I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you."

Then she suddenly smiled.

"Your father would have been proud," she said.

"He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

"You're joking."

It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Ron and (Y/n) what had happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall.

"Seeker?" he said. "But first years never you must be the youngest House player in about-"

"-a century," said Harry, while the three of them made it down the corridor  

"According to McGonagall."

"That's amazing Harry. thank god she didn't expel you" (Y/n) said she felt quite proud of her friend even tho she didn't know what a seeker was at first

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just gaped at Harry.

Fred and George Weasley now came behind the trio when they spotted Harry, and hurried over.

"Hey well done, Harry" said George "Wood told us."

 "Fred and George are on the team too they're Beaters," said Ron

"Our job is to make sure you don'tget bloodied up too bad no promises of course rough game Quidditch"

"Brutal but now on starting years someone will vanish occasionally but they did turn in a month or two" said Fred which earned him a light slap on his arm from the first-year girl 

"Stop trying to scare him both of you" she said glaring at the twins who just laughed 

 "Alright alright but I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year, We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us." 

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

With that Fred and George had hardly disappeared and Harry frowned 

"Oh come on Harry Quidditch is great, best game ever and you will be great too," Ron said 

"And remember Fred and George are the school's biggest pranksters don't take everything they say to heart" Said (Y/n) while Ron nodded

"But I never even played Quidditch what if I made a fool of myself," Harry said stopping and turning to his two friends while Hermione Granger came up to them 

"You won't make a fool out of yourself," She said "It's in your blood"

Harry looked at Ron questioning him about what she meant he shook his head and (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders as Hermione signalled for them to follow her. 

She led them to where they found the name of James Potter written in the names of Quidditch champions, he was a chaser along with Sirius Black as keeper in the Gryffindor team   

"Wow," said Ron "Harry you never told me your father played Quidditch too"

"I... didn't know" explained Harry amazed as much as the others 

It was dinner and the trio were eating at the Great Hall minding their own business when Malfoy came up to them

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"Mind your own business Malfoy," said (Y/n) scowling at the boy

"Aww standing up to one of your boyfriends how cute" He said mockingly  

"You know Malfoy you're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly.

There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy.

"Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only no contact. What's the

matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around.

"I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said.

"Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; which's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, (Y/n), Ron and Harry looked at each other. 

"What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry.

"And what do you mean, you're his second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on the other two, he added quickly,

"But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Harry you worry too much"

"Then throw it away and punch him in the nose," Ron suggested.

"Excuse me." The three looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron and (Y/n) nudged him as if telling him to be nice

Hermione ignored them and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying-"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"- And you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought as he lay awake much later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn't back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as

"If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it because I can't remember how to block them."

But some time later there was a quiet knock on the boys' door which Harry opened to find (Y/n) in her pyjamas and a black bathrobe with two books in her hand one was her charms and the other she had taken from the library before going to bed 

"Bring Ron and meet me down in the common room everyone is asleep and I need to show you both something" She said and took her leave after a few minutes the boys pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. they found the girl with the two books opened in front of her on the table in the common room by the fireplace  

"(Y/n)?" Ron called 

"I thought I did look you guys some spells before we go to see that blonde git"  

Ron and Harry looked at each other smiling before walking up to the sitting girl 

"Ok, the first spell is easy but we won't take it until later this year it's called the knockback jinx we can try it right now how about that? then we would try the shield charm this one may take quite some time because it is taught for six years but not to worry with some practise I am sure both of you can learn it quickly" She said looking up from her books to the two boys 

"So are you boys in or what?"

"Of course, we are!" both of them said at the same time 

With that, the three of them started to practise as quietly as they can  

"Flipendo!" said Ron sending the spell at Harry 

Flipendo: the knockback jinx 

"protego!" Harry casted the spell it was a bit missy making him get back a few steps but it still worked he wasn't knocked out

Protego: the shield charm 

"You both did good i know it's not much but at least it's sure more than what Malfoy knows" (Y/n) said smiling sheepishly at her friends when she suddenly muffled with a hug by a very happy Harry 

"It's perfect thank you" He whispered as she hugged him back welcoming herself into his arms and they felt another pair of arms wrap around both of them 

"Even tho I would have liked more harming spells to teach that blonde arse a lesson it's still perfect as Harry said" The three of them laughed at the redhead words they broke the hug.      

There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs Norris, and Harry felt he was pushing his luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Malfoy's sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness this was his big chance to beat Malfoy face-to-face. He couldn't miss it.

"Half-past eleven," Ron muttered at last, "we'd better go." and the other two nodded

They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them,

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry. and (Y/n) you should have stopped them not taught them spells to fight seriously"

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy, he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Harry couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering.

"Come on," he said to Ron and (Y/n). He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-"

But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are not."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"You've got some nerve-" said Ron loudly.

"Shut up, both of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark. It wasn't Mrs Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

"Neville?" (Y/n) asked

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get into bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" said Harry.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them.

"Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later-"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet,

"I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been passed twice already."

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward. They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn, Harry expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped around the corner when they

heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter,

"probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

"We better be I am not ready to experience my first detention yet" (Y/n) said panting slightly from running

"I told you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I told you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry.

"You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you Filch knew

someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"Hermione that's enough we get it don't rub it on his face" (Y/n) scoffed 

Harry thought she was probably right, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Let's go."

It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and squealed with delight.

"Shut up, Peeves please you'll get us thrown out." Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a sanity voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly.

"It's for your own good, you know."

"Peeves. No."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves this was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed,

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned as they pushed helplessly at the door,

"We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered,

"Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please.' "

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying

singsong voice.

"All right please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say anything if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered.

"I think we'll be okay. get off, Neville!" Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute.

"What?" Harry turned around and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment,

he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob, between Filch and death, he'd take Filch. They fell backwards, Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared, all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs. It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally.

"If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped.

"Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested.

"I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"It doesn't matter if what it's doing were never going there again" exclaimed (Y/n)  

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up, glaring at them.

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed. (Y/n) come on"

"Wait what?" She looks at Hermione confused as she drags her to their dorm.

Ron stared after her, his mouth open.

"No, we don't mind," he said.

"You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

But Hermione had given Harry something else to think about as he climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something...

What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide except perhaps Hogwarts.

It looked as though Harry had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.

this one is sooooo pretty

#original character #oc #percy weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #molly weasley #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #x reader #ron weasley #hermoine granger #draco malfoy #Spotify

[legends-of-time]

The Strength of a High and Noble Hill (Outlander)

Chapter 45: Should auld acquaintance be forgot?

Masterlist

December 1770/January 1771

Brian stumbles, slightly drunken on the Fraser whiskey, laughing at Mrs Bug as she curses at Geordie Chisholm's younger sons, Thomas, Anthony and Toby, as they get under her feet, mucking about as the poor woman tries to carry trays of food and whiskey out to the guests. Brian knows the boys are all reverberating with the excitement at the prospect of staying up late tonight.

"Spawns of Satan!" Mrs Bug hisses. "Ye should mind yer hide, I might smack it!"

"Calm, Mrs Bug!" Brian cries cheerfully. "I'll keep an eye on them."

"Humph." She grumbles. "Just keep 'em away from the fire."

The fire being the lit bonfire sitting in front of the Big House. 

Brian flashes a grin and salutes. Mrs Bug looks at him, baffled then glares, realising he's being cheeky. This sets off the boys into a round of giggles, trying to hide behind Brian's legs when Mrs Bug turns her glare to them.

"Right, you lot, you've got to listen to what Mrs Bug says," Brian says sternly. "You wouldn't want me to tell your parents and go to bed early."

The mischievous child inside him revels against it but he keeps his face firm. He remembers how these three had apparently ransacked the surgery and caused mayhem while the militia had been away. Mrs Bug had informed the boys, in the hopes to keep them out, that Mama is a notable witch; a White Lady, who would undoubtedly turn them into toads on the spot should any harm come to the contents of her surgery, which, according to her, would be no great loss to society. That didn’t keep them out. Quite the opposite, they are fascinated, but it had so far prevented them breaking much.

"Aye, Mister Fraser." The five-year-old Thomas says, his tone full of awe as he looks up at Brian

"Good. Now, who wants to melt some cheese on the bonfire?" It is no s'mores but Brian figured it's the next best thing and what kid doesn't find melting food on fire exciting?

All three grin with excitement.

Brian is happy to have returned to the Ridge, particularly to call in the new year, or Hogmanay to the Scots, for the second year.They'd returned from Hillsborough now that the militia had been disbanded to find a few surprises. A happy one was the Beardsley twin's successful operation with the use of Mama's first batch of penicillin. Brian is happy to hear that Lizzie had stayed with them, seems her attention has truly shifted, and he's glad. Another pleasing discovery was to find that Joseph Wemyss, Lizzie's father had arrived as well. It was good to father and daughter reunited.

The final surprise was one they brought with them. Adso, the kitten. Yeah, that was a surprise, the sudden meowing that had come out of Da's pocket on the journey back to the Ridge. He's given it to Mama as a gift, the name coming from the cat his Mother owned when he was a child. 

Brian is broken out of his thoughts and where he'd be teaching and keeping an eye on the young Chisholm boys when there's a giggle and then someone grabbing his leg. He turns and looks down to find the newly turned 3-year-old Germain grinning up at him.

Brian grins at his nephew. "Now what are doing here? Where's your Mama and Papa?"

The young boy pouts. "They're no fun Uncle Brian, they're looking after Joanie and she doesn't do anything!"

"She will one day. She'll be able to do all that you can do." Brian says, arguing in defence of the three-month-old.

Germain grumbles, clearly not believing him. Brian chuckles, swinging him up in his arms causing the young boy to laugh.

——

Brian walks by and he hears giggling and laughter nearby. He turns and it's Eudora and Penuel MacEalair blushing and giggling. They stand in a group with some other girls including Marion and Agnes MacLeod and Aila Ceallach.

When he looks over, Aila Ceallach straightens and tucks back a stray hair, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Eudora and Penuel pout and frown at the older girl.

"Do I want to know what's going on there?" Brian remarks to John Lowry, a young farmer from Woolam's Mill, who's also watching the group with a bewildered look on his face as Marion MacLeod flashes her eyes at him.

The younger farmer shakes his head. "I dinna ken wha' they're about but I ken know we best leave the lasses to it."

Brian shrugs, letting it go and turns to John. "Care for more Fraser whiskey?"

"Aye, a wee glass can't hurt."

——

And of course, there's dancing. It begins with Kenny Lindsay bringing out his fiddle to accompany his brothers Evan on his bodhran and Murdo on his flute. Thurlo Guthrie hands his elderly father a set of small uilleann pipes. A drunk Ellen dances with Marsali who's equally on the tipsy side. Brian, feeling looser than usual, agrees to giving Eudora and Penuel MacEalair a spin after the two girls ask him to. He also agrees because he sees the look of displeasure on Grannie MacEalair's face.

Ronnie Sinclair brings out a drum and a new beat begins. The Lindsay brothers soon implore Da to perform the Highland sword dance, chanting 'Mac Dubh'. Brian laughs with Ellen as they both join in. It takes Fergus and Geordie Chisholm grabbing Da by the arms and pushing him to the centre of the circle, where a makeshift dance floor had popped up, that Da finally obliges them with a jig.

Da's feet hit the ground, to the north, east and west, skilfully chaining the steps between the swords. He dances with all the skill of a warrior. Brian watches, fascinated by his ferocity and the rhythm of the Scottish drum. The sweat now flows on Da's forehead, he looks at Mama, who smiles at him.

——

They all cheer, knocking their drinks together in celebration when it turns midnight, signalling the start of a new year. Brian can't believe that he's really here, in 1771, surrounded by the history he learnt at school. He shares looks with Roger and Ellen who share similar looks of disbelief. 

"Get te the back, Frasers. We dinna need yer bad luck!" Nelson McIver yells as they all get ready to start what Brian has learnt to be first-footing, which is an event that starts immediately after midnight. 

It involves being the first person to cross the threshold of a friend or neighbour and often involves the giving of symbolic gifts such as salt, coal, shortbread, whisky, and black bun, intended to bring different kinds of luck to the householder and supposed to be good luck for the rest of the year. Food and drink (as the gifts) are then given to the guests. This may go on throughout the early morning hours and into the next day. 

Brian rolls his eyes amicably, scratching the back of his head underneath his red hair. "Oh, you want me to take back our whiskey then."

Those around them begin to jokingly whine at Mclver, declaring he'd ruined everything. Da tips his head back and laughs.

Tomorrow they'll continue with saining ('protecting, blessing') another Hogmanay custom but for now, Brian happily joins in the merriment, reassuring everyone that they can keep the whiskey though they better watch it.

——

A/N: The title is the first lyric to Robert Burn's Auld Lang Syne written in 1788, traditionally sung at New Years.

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#outlander

[importantnightwerewolf]

Young Family Nelson and Murdock and the adventures of Mushroom Kingdom AU

Localization: Mushroom Kingdom Region: Toad Town/ Hell's Mushroom

Name: Matthew Toad Michael Nelson Murdock/ Matt Murdock / Matt Murdock

Age: 19 years

Family: Jack Murdock (Dad) ✝️, Edward Nelson (Adoptive Dad), Anna Nelson ( Adoptive Mom), Theo Nelson (Adoptive Older Brother) Franklin "Foggy"Percy Nelson ( Great Best Friend,Law Partner and Adoptive Little Brother), Toad (Youngest Brother and Best Friend), other family members unknown

Friends: Peach ( Older Sister figure) ,Mario ( Friend and Mentor) ,Luigi, Karen ( Best Friend and Love Interest 💖),Frank ( love interest and enemy sometimes 💖),Claire,Mallow,Peter,Wade, Brett,Daisy and Yoshi

< press star >

Prologue - The dawn of the devil

part: 1,2,3

"Welcome to the mushroom kingdom, a prosperous, big, magical, powerful, rich and strong kingdom"

And here is the capital of the kingdom, Toad Town, where all the subjects of this glorious kingdom live.

"Toads, goombas, koopas, people from different regions of the mushroom kingdom live in this town, but the rarest are humans because in this kingdom there are no humans and these exceptions rarely occur because the only humans are the noble ruler of the Mushroom kingdom, Princess Peach Toadstool and the heroes of the mushroom kingdom the Mario Brothers, Mario and Luigi, but this world has its surprises because in the western corner of Toad Town there is a neighborhood that was founded as "Hell's Mushroom"by a group of humans who landed in the Mushroom Kingdom".

"These humans with strength and determination built their own corner of Toad Town and soon this world became their home"

"The Mushroom Kingdom has a lot to explore in addition to the different worlds beyond the borders where diverse adventurers, fighters and dreamers intend to achieve their goals and open up opportunities."

Because the doors for 2 young humans who will begin their lives opened at that moment

Matty!!! Foggy!!! Time to wake up!!! a woman wearing an orange apron called from the other side of the door

"Mo..oo.om.mm……. let me and Matt sleep in peace! "says half sleepy the young blond man with a growing beard and long hair Foggy, No! Today is the big day that my 2 babies are going to one of the prestigious colleges in the Mushroom Kingdom, so wake up your brother and come and have breakfast together!!! says your mother from the other side of the door going down the stairs.

Ok, mom! says Foggy sighing looking at his brother ——————————————————————————————————Matt was dreaming for the first time in years because he couldn't handle the voices from the Mushroom Kingdom or the Princess's screams and the horror show and Bowser's growl from Peach's castle which is on the other side, specifically in the center of Toad Town (Yes, blame the shit super senses), this dream was of him flying through the skies of Merigue Clouds, over the seas of Isle Delfino with flight power ups, because Matt wanted to be a hero, explore the Mushroom Kingdom and be a lawyer, he and the Foggy and tomorrow this dream was going to come true and he wanted his father to be here and together they could explore this world and have the life they both dreamed of because it would be him, Foggy, his father and his entire adoptive family that he loves and He has his large family that he would protect until the end with his strength, with his blood and his soul

Hey flower of the day, time to wake up……….

It looks like your best friend, the ray of sunshine and optimist, is acting as the alarm clock again.

Wow, Foggy has no mercy on my senses... what happened to respect for blind people who just want to sleep?

Well it looks like the devil in me has other plans so let's get that beautiful morning mood

because the future lawyer of the Mushroom Kingdom will begin his adventure!!!

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