Tradition / Digital Artist ⢠Hobby Writer & TTRPG Game Designer ⢠DnD / Psychology Enthusiast ⢠Queer ⢠Neurodivergent ⢠Jack of all traits, master of none ⢠Multi-Fandom Blog
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Started to create my own magical school inspired by Hogwarts. Just playing around with some school uniform designs rn.
Utterly unrelated, but my week was pretty crazy so far:
I became a cousin. Got crowned as a princess. Met a bunch of "royals" from other villages. Got gifted more wine than I can drink. Made new friends (may or may not get invited to a musical). Learned how to line dance. Got a tour of wine cellars of strangers. Drank wine from 1968 or sth. Was part of a devine service that took place in the middle of a narrow pedestrian street below the marketplace of our church. Had an entire parade dedicated to my 2 friends and me. And I don't even wanna know in how many Instagram pictures I'll be in.
Headcanon(s) I have for my theory that Regulus is still alive:
The Blacks strike me as a very traditional aristocratic family. So I wouldn't be surprised if they forced their kids to learn how to play a traditional instrument like the piano. I think Sirius always had more of an affinity for stringed instruments though, so when his parents expected him to learn a classic instrument, he chose the violin. Regulus, as a child, was probably quick to idolize his older brother (Reggie is def giving typical fanboy energy with how obsessed he later gets with Voldy). So he too chose the violin.
However, already being quite the rebellious kid, Sirius eventually started to play his violin like a fiddle, much to Walburga's disliking ("Sirius, if you continue to play such harsh tunes you will break your violin!", "It's supposed to be slow and elegant, not quick and chaotic!"). Regulus secretly adored the fiddle way of playing the violin, but already being perceived as the family's "golden boy" he never dared to play it in such a way in public or at home.
Then Sirius gets disowned, Regulus is forced to keep up the "golden boy" act even more, etc, etc etc. And then Regulus fakes his death and finally starts to play his instrument the way he wants to: like a fiddle.
Also: I think the reason why no one would be able to recognize him could be because of the Fidelius Charm. Don't ask me who the secret keeper would be, but think about it: the charm can technically hide any secret. So it isn't a far stretch to say that it can hide someone still being alive. People then could recognize Regulus having a striking resemblance to Sirius or similar, but they could not conclude Stubby Boardman is actually Regulus Black no matter how hard they try. It's like "Voldy wouldn't be able to see the Potters even if his nose was at their living room window" or however that sentence went.
A Harry Potter fanfic from the pov of an Oc I've created just for fun - a gifted student, expelled by her prior school, covering their years in Hogwarts during the 1940s. Or, more broadly speaking:
This is a story about...
"...fuuuuck, why do I get hyper fixated on Harry Potter all of the sudden?!"
"Welp, might as well try to upcycle Rowling's ideas and go nuts with the franchise..."
and
"I wanted to copy and paste parts of the original books to make my life easier, but like... Rowling, why do your characters only "say" things?
It's always "he said", "she said", "Harry said" - why?
Why can't they "ask"? Or "guess"? Or "answer"? Or "shout"? Or "yell", "remark", add", "confirm", "explain", "conclude", "object", "reason", "chuckle", "assure", "hesitate", "interrupt", "mumble", "sigh", "whisper" or any other word to describe a sentence?
Heck, if you HAVE to use "said", why not at least add a word to describe how they did it? "Yes.", she said curiously / sarcastically / hesitantly / astonished / afraid / bewildered / loudly / ... - the list goes on. So...
Enjoy.
SECOND YEAR
---
"Professor Dumbledore will take you to the Great Hall once we arrive and make sure you are sorted into a house.", my mother said in her calm, measured voice as I looked out of the window, the Scottish countryside passing by below us. Her French was flawless. After all, it was our mother tongues.
The carriage was cozy and of high standards by any means measured, bought from the wealth my family gathered over the centuries. But it didn't change the judging attitude of my mother, nor did it stop the shivers going down my spine, as she continued: "I expect nothing less than excellancy. Follow the rules, show respect towards your teachers and do not even consider spending time with anyone mediocre... or less than a pureblood, for that matter."
Right, because we're such a lovely pureblood family ourselves, aren't we?
I rolled my eyes. "Do you understand?", she asked. I nodded, absentminded.
"Andrien, look at me when I talk to you.", my mother's voice pressured. I hated it when she called me by my name. I slowly turned my head around, facing her piercing stare as she lowered her copy of the Daily Prophet. "You should be thankful that Professional Dumbledore was able to convince Headmaster Dippet to let you continue your education at Hogwarts."
As if you didn't bribe him...
"Especially after what you did in Beauxbatons.", she put the paper aside. "I just thought the classes to be beneath my skill level.", I stated as a matter of fact. She raised her eyebrow to a questioning look, clearly disapproving. "Any interesting news?", I asked, pointing at the newspaper to change the subject. Without saying another word, she handed me the Daily Prophet.
September 1st, 1940, "Scandal at the Leaky Cauldron"
Skimming over the page I realized my English was a bit rusty. But at least it passed some time.
Eventually, the carriage slowed down, a grand castle coming into view. Then the carriage descendet, eventually coming to a stop once we hit the ground again. The coachman opened the door, offering me a hand to step out, but I ignored it. "Bonjour and welcome to Hogwarts.", a friendly sounding man greeted me in British English, "You must be Adrien de Lune... You're right on time. I've heard that you are quite the interesting young wizard." He chuckled.
Wizard...
I hated to be associated with that word. The old wizard wore a simple robe, unlike anything I would have expected from a man of his status and reputation.
"Professor Albus Dumbledore?", I asked, skeptically, my French accent clearly noticable. He smiled warmly and gave me a nod: "Shall we?" Professor Dumbledore pointed at my luggage on the back of the carriage with his wand. I gave my mother one last glance, her face quietly judging and disgusted. "Certainly", I replied, before he lifted my luggage off and carried it using an unspoken spell.
---
The great hall was unlike anything I expected. Less luxurious and more practical. Although the hovering, lit candles above me were certainly a nice touch. And so was the house cup stand, now resetted for the new school year. Each house had an assigned table. And in front of it all, the teacher's seats: Professor Slughorn, Professor Merrythought, Professor Binns and of course Headmaster Dippet, as well as the empty seat of Professor Dumbledore and a few more witches and wizards whose names I didn't know yet. Slowly each of the empty tables filled up with students, while I was standing together with all the first years. Which felt odd considering I was a second year student after all. But the sorting ceremony has been a tradition for centuries and no amount of awkwardness would free me from it.
"Once I call out your names, you shall come forward and sit down, before I put this hat on you.", Dumbledore raised an old, dusty pointy hat, "But first, a few words from Headmaster Dippet." Dippet cleaned his throat: "A few administrative words for all first years." His eyes focused on me. "Or above.", he continued, "The Dark Forest, is, as always, forbidden to enter. So is the restricted part of the library without explicit permission."
Restricted...?
"Mmh...", I tried to hide a smirk. Dippet gave Dumbledore a small nod. Then the sorting began, with each student being called in alphabetical order by their last names. A, then B, then C, and finally...
"Adrien de Lune.", Dumbledore called out, a slightly worried expression on his face. I didn't like being called by that name, but there was nothing I could do about it. Slowly I made my way to the sorting hat, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room lingering on me. The hat felt itchy as it was placed on my head. "A second year transfer student from Beauxbaton, exiled due to misbehavior. How unusual... And yet, I feel a great ambition in you.", the hat mumbled, but I barely payed attention.
Out of all the pair of eyes staring at me, one stood out the most. A Slytherin boy, perhaps one or two years older than me, considering his tall statue. Yet black hair, perfectly combed to the side, pale skin and dark eyes... Handsome, in a way. Unlike the others, he didn't seem merely curious about me, but analytical. The way my mother judges people. The way I do. "Slytherin!", the hat shouted, followed by a round of applause. I could see in Dumbledore's face that he now was more than just worried, his eyes lingering one a single person in the room. Following his gaze I realized: In the chaos, the boy was the only one who didn't clap.
---
It was way past midnight. I was alone in the Restricted Section of the library, the tip of my finger illuminating the way. It was the end of my third day at Hogwarts and I started to feel like I needed a break from all the other boys in my sleeping quarters. I was still adjusting to my new school and teachers. Nonetheless, I would already get myself into trouble. I smirked, as I approached the book shelf, putting a ladder in front of it to reach the upper levels.
"The Dangers of the Dark Arts, The History of the Dark Arts...", my eyes stopped once I found the section about unusual forms of magic. One by one, I took books that peaked my interest. Then I heard it, footsteps approaching. Without making a sound, I extinguished the light and tried to get my wand out for an invisibility spell, but alas, my hands were too full with books to reach it from my pocket. "Merde!", I cussed under my breath, expecting the worst.
But once I saw who stepped out of the shadows, my expression changed from panic to confusion: "You again..." The same boy who stared at me in the Great Hall now stood before me, his expression unreadable. A moment passed, then I smirk as a realization hit me: "Come here and take those books to the desk, will you?" "Why should I?", the boy asked back, his voice calm and slightly arrogant. "Because both of us are were we shouldn't be. Especially not at a time like this. If you rat me out, you would be in trouble too. And if I ratted you out first, it would also backfire on me. Not that I would mind. Wouldn't be the first time I got expelled from a school." Another moment passed by, the boy lost in thought, then he took the books from my arms and placed them on a desk.
"Adrien de Lune.", I introduced myself, the name feeling almost alien, as always. He gave a small smile, though it felt far from genuine: "Tom Marvolo Riddle." "Are you a forth year student?", I asked as I went down the ladder, more books in hand. "Third year, actually.", Tom corrected me. "Why exactly did you get expelled from your previous school?", he asked back, taking a book of his own before following me as I went to the desk and sat down. "Many reasons...", I answered vaguely, "Tailoring my uniform, messing with my classmates, going places I shouldn't... But I think it all boils down to me being different than the rest."
The boy sat down on a chair on the other side of the table, opening his book. "Extraordinary?", he offered. "I suppose you could call me that, yes.", I opened the book titled "The Mysteries of Magic", skimming through the pages. "Why are you interested in the Mysteries of Magic?" Without even looking up, I answered: "My mother was a late bloomer when it came to magic. She was considering to be a... - how do you call them? A person with two magical parents but without magic themselves?"
"Squib?", Tom guessed. "Yes, squib. - but at around 16, something changed. She started to see things no one else could. She became a witch, almost over night. No one ever found out why. But I want to change that." Tom nodded, understandingly: "I see..." "Mother always stays very guarded about that part of her past. I think she's embarrassed about it, thinking it is a bad omen.", I continued, "But I believe otherwise. After all, she is incredibly powerful in nonverbal and wandless spells. And I've been obsessed with them ever since I was a little kid because of it. In fact, it was another one of the reasons I got expelled from Beauxbatons."
Silently, and by just reaching out with my hand, I made the book Tom picked slide over the table to my side. About 50 centimeters, but Tom seemed surprisingly unimpressed, although certainly curious. "Accio?", he made an educated guess. I nodded. "Interesting...", he remarked, "Who taught you to cast spells like this?" "No one. Not really. Unless you want to count my private tutor. But I mostly taught myself. Admittedly, it didn't get me very far, I only know how to cast a handful of spells in this way.", I admitted. He leaned back, probing: "Such as?"
I considered to lie, but didn't see the point behind it. The young wizard listening attentively, giving a nod after each spell listed: "Accio, Lumos, Nox and Alohomora." "I suppose our teachers are not aware of your talent?", he asked once I was done. "No... Most consider it to be too dangerous for someone my age to even attempt." "What a pitty.", neither his face nor his voice reflected his implied feelings.
I sighed: "You seem to be the only one to hold this opinion. It took me ages just to learn this small trick. But think of all the possibilities. Any witch or wizard can easily be disarmed and made defenseless using a simple 'Expelliamus'. But if you aren't reliant on your wand, suddenly you can take your enemies by surprise by simply continuing to cast spells."
A small smirk appeared on his face, as if he knew exactly what I was talking about. A rare moment of showing genuine emotions, as I already learned. Then I took a look at the book he chose to read: "Magick Moste Evile... Are you interested in the Dark Arts?" Another moment of hesitation, as if choosing his next words wisely: "I believe one should know all aspects of magic." I slowly nodded, understandingly: "Do you come here often?" "Often enough.", he replied. I chuckled: "Well, perhaps we could study together, then?" A few seconds of silence, his expression unreadable as he looked at me. Then: "Sure... Why not."
---
"Adrien? Adrien?", a male voice called out. Slightly disoriented and irritated, I opened my eyes and lifted my head, blinking as I adjusted to the brightness. Professor Slughorn stood a few meters before me, displeased. "What was the question again?", I scratched my head as I realized I was in his potion class.
Didn't think staying up all night to read would make me this tired...
Slughorn gave me a slightly annoyed look: "Perhaps you would remember it if you did not fall asleep in my class." "Perhaps I wouldn't fall asleep in your class if your lessons were more interesting. Now what was the question?", I answered, sharply.
The man smirked slightly, then asked: "Which ingredients do you use to make a polyjuice potion?" I thought for a moment, still tired, before I answered: "Lacewing flies - stewed for 21 days, leeches, powdered bicorn horn, then... knotgrass,
fluxweed - picked at full moon, shredded boomslang skin and, of course, a piece of the person you try to turn into... Typically a hair." Slughorn's eyes went wide for a moment, but his voice was still composed: "That is... correct... Five points to Slytherin." Finally I was able to think clear again: "Why are you asking this, Professor? We're only in our second year." He hesitated: "See me after class, will you?" I groaned, expecting the worse.
---
"Class dismissed.", Professor Slughorn's voice echoed through the room. I didn't even realize I was fidgeting with my writing feather until I noticed the small, plugged out parts.
Merde...
Quickly I packed my bag, ignoring my nervousness. Then I got up from my seat and hurried to the exit, slightly hunched over, hoping to be overlooked. But I was stopped, mid track: "Adrien, you are not thinking of leaving the classroom just yet, are you?" I sighed, turning around: "Of course not, Professor. I was just... eager to get to my next lesson and momentarily forgot about our meeting after class, that's all." "Really?", the man asked, skeptically. "Yes, really.", I lied.
Slughorn didn't believe a single word of it: "I believe you are less eager about your classes and more eager not to face a confrontation with me." "Please don't tell Dumbledore about it.", I begged, fearing to be expelled from the school once again. "Dumbledore?", the professor raised an eyebrow, "Curious choice." "I-...", I tried to explain myself, but he interrupted me: "Not to worry, I did not stop you from leaving to punish you."
It took me a moment to register his words: "Wait... What?" Professor Slughorn signed: "Adrien, I don't know you for very long, nor do I know in detail why you were expelled from Beauxbatons. But to me, it seems like a major factor was unutilized potential." The tension I felt earlier now replaced by interest. He continued: "I believe that your... difficult habits stem from professors and other students alike not realizing you are ahead of your classmates. Clearly advanced for your age, from what I've heard. Depending on your grades, of course, I might be able to give you access to higher classes, if you wish."
I let out a chuckle, asking sarcastically: "Really?" He seemed completely unbothered by it: "I wonder though, who taught you advanced magic?" "My family is rather wealthy. I had a private tutor as a child. And they soon realized I quickly picked up on new skills. So she started to give more advanced lessons." "Ah, I see, well... Furthermore, I'd like to invite you to a meeting of a club, of sorts. One which, I believe, could further assist you in developing your special talents."
He seemed more serious than I previously thought. Curious, I asked: "What type of club?" "Oh, nothing special. Just some supper in my rooms with other, promising students.", he chuckled. "Sounds promising enough...", I said, still thinking about the offer. "Can I expect to see you there today, around the same time supper is served usually?", the man asked, expectantly. "I'll consider it.", I gave him a forced smile before leaving the classroom.
---
A cool breeze of autumn wind whistled through the castle's yard, letting me to slightly shiver. The smell after fresh rain it brought was a soothing one though. Classes were over for the day and we still had a few hours of free time until dinner. A few studens were roaming around the area, in groups of two, three, four or more, but I sat alone with only my diary giving me company. Being more advanced than everyone else in your grade certainly had it's advantages in terms of grades... but in terms of friends? Not so much. Carefully dipping my feather into my ink bottle, I continued to write.
"Somebody call Slughorn, I think his pet escaped.", a group of five boys chuckled as they passed by. All of whom were from my potions class. "I wonder what he's writing.", another one of the boys said, coming to a stop to pry over my shoulder. "Mr. de Lune, would you care to share your findings with the class?", more laughter which I ignored as much as possible. "C'mon, don't be shy.", he continued, "We'd all love to see what advanced potions formulas you're writing." And before I could even react, he snitched the small book from my lap. "Give that back.", I commanded without even looking up. "Ohhh, now I see, it's a diary!", the boy laughed, his friends joined soon after. "I said give it back.", slowly I was growing impatient, "This is your last warning." "Dear diary, -", the boy started to read out loud.
Enough.
Without thinking twice I pulled my wand: "Bombarda!" A small explosion kicked the ground of their feet, spilling mud all over them and loud enough to echo through the yard. It was only a matter of time before a teacher would arrive. And my diary was knocked at least a few meters away. "Bloody hell!", the boy called out. Finally I took the time to take a closer look at him. Brown hair, gray eyes, slightly crooked nose, light skin, slender build... and out of all houses of course another Slytherin. "What is wrong with you?", he called out, getting out his own wand. And so did his fellow co-conspiritors.
I'll show you what's wrong with me.
Standing my ground firmly, I didn't hesitate to hit them with everything I got, starting with: "Expelliamus! Stupefy! Silencio!" But even for someone like me, taking on five enemies at once was too much to handle, as one of them eventually hit me with: "Immobilus!" And before I could counter spell, I felt like my movement freeze mid-action.
"I think that's enough.", a familiar voice from across the yard called. The group of boys messing with me got on their feet. Their leader, Crooked Nose, held his chin up high as Tom and his small group of loyal followers approached. "What's the matter, Tom?", Crooked Nose seemed to know him, "This is none of your business." Tom gave a small, confident smile. The confidence seemed real, but I was certain the smile wasn't: "As a matter of fact, it is. May I remind you that this isn't the first time you were cought causing trouble? And from what I remember, Headmaster Dipped warned you that, if a situation like that should ever occur again, the consequences would be severe."
That seemed to stop the bully in his tracks. One second passed. Then another one. A third. Crooked Nose gave me one last smirk before he waved his gang to leave: "C'mon, guys, we don't want our teacher's pet to get hurt, do we?" Still unable to move, I looked at Tom, now standing in front of me: "Finite Incantanem." Still having the momentum of before, I clumsily stumbled into my savior. Without even mentioning it, he caught me and ensured I had a balanced stand before he held out my diary: "I believe this belongs to you?" "Yeah... Thanks.", I gave him a small smile, a bit embarrassed.
In the corner of my eye I could see Professor Merrythought approaching: "What is all this turmoil about? I heard an explosion?" Without hesitation, Tom turned towards her: "You heard correctly, Professor. From what I could gather, it seems like Basilton Morden was bullying another student again. Rather harshly, if I may add." "Is that correct?", the teacher expectantly looked at me. I gave a nod. "It wasn't the first time he caused trouble, was it?", Tom asked. Merrythought sighed: "It wasn't. I'll let Dibbet know about it... I'm glad we have students like you, Riddle, ensuring the savety of your fellow students. Truly makes the lives of us teachers easier." She chuckled. "Always glad to help.", he smiled in his non genuine way.
---
I took a deep breath before I knocked. Professor Slughorn's voice seemed more relaxed than he was earlier in class: "Come." Slowly I opened the door, the smell of a fine dish filling the air. It felt familiar, almost like home. "Ahh, young de Lune, I am glad to see you came to join us. Although a bit late, aren't we? Not to worry, just take a seat.", the man gestured me inside, taking me to the dinner table after I closed the door behind me. I found myself in a nicely decorated room, with an even nicer decorated, round table. On it, fine dining utensils and a few studens, patiently waiting for me. Amongst which was a familiar face. "What a pleasant surprise.", Tom smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Come on, don't be shy. We're all equals here, after all.", he patted an empty seat next to him.
Smiling shily, I sat down. "Well, you two seem familiar with each other already. Is that not a nice start to a nice supper?", Slughorn said enthusiastically, sitting down himself before taking out his wand and magically filling our plates with only the most expensive of foods. "I'm sure you will find yourself at home amongst these people, Adrien. You are more than welcomed to join us during our next meeting as well. Oh, and, by the way, nice roses.", the Professor smiled, pointing at the embroidery I made on the frame of my uniform. But, unlike Tom, his smile was genuine.
"Nox Avery.", one of the boys introduced himself enthusiastically. Another Slytherin, with blue eyes and blonde hair. "You're from my grade.", I remarked. He nodded eagerly, holding out his hand to shake. Hesitantly I shook it. "I'm Memphis. Memphis Lestrange.", another boy mumbled. He was more sturdy built than Nox, with brown locks and green eyes. At least two years older than me. Also a Slytherin. A Ravenclaw, now introduced himself, black hair and blue eyes: "Rowan Morden."
I raised my eyebrow: "Are you related to Basilton?" He chuckled: "He's my cousin, alright, but we're nothing alike." I chuckled. Then a Slytherin girl raised her voice: "Sierra Mora Mulciber." She was rather small, dark skinned with thick black curls. One by one, the remaining members introduced themselves, only one of which wasn't a Slytherin either. The second Ravenclaw introduced herself: "Madeleine Sallow." "Lazarus Nott.", the last one smiled. A boy who seemed to be the oldest around the table, red hair, freckles, brown eyes and...
A Slytherin... Slughorn seems to have a preference.
---
"And, what do you think?", I asked, enthusiastically, "Not quite the Chamber of Secrets you're looking for, I know. But a nice surprise nonetheless, don't you agree?" Tom closed the door behind him, the entrance disappearing mere moments later. Ahead of us, a spacious room, decorated with filigree patterns mimicking nature. A tall, painted ceiling above us, with a chandelier made of small crystals and gems, shimmering in rainbow colors. Some old furniture here and there, including, but not limited to, a mirror I preferred to keep under a sheet of fabric.
Grand stairs on each side lead up to an upper level, a library full of books one should not have access to without permission. Although only the ones I knew about. Mysterious, viny trees framed the entrance to what was an indoor garden ahead of us. A bit embarrassed I looked down: "I took the liberty to decorate it a bit already. I hope you don't mind." Tom, as always, didn't show much of a reaction: "No, not at all. Tell me, how exactly did you find this room?"
I knew he would eventually ask that question, and yet: "Uh... Well... I just did? Honestly, I'm not quite sure, I just thought it would be nice to have a room of our own. Somewhere private where we could study together without the fear of prying eyes. I stumbled over it by accident more than anything else. And it seems like it provides everything you could ever wish for. Except for food, which is odd, but only a minor inconvenience." "I suppose so.", Tom agreed, looking around, "I believe you have found the Room of Requirement."
"Could be.", I let the moment linger for a few more seconds, smiling at my own little, private corner of Hogwarts. Then I sighed: "Well then... If you want to start with Defensive against the Dark Arts, I can show you the training area."
He gave a nod, then, hesitantly, he thought out loud: "You know, this would make the most wonderful place for all of our friends to gather and spend time with each other." "Your friends, Tom.", I corrected him. I tried to make an effort to avoid him every time he gathered his friend group around him. I was too shy and self aware of how I was perceived to feel like I belonged. "That can change.", the boy offered. I played with the thought for a while. "It would do you a favor.", Tom pressured.
"Fine...", I eventually gave in, "If you think it's a good idea... you may show them this place. But I'd prefer it if they weren't always around in here when we are. I don't want them seeing me accidentally jinxing a spell when trying to cast it my way. I couldn't bare the embarrassment." I chuckled, disliking the spotlight I put on myself.
"That can be arranged.", Tom gave me a small smile. Curious about what got taugh a grade above me, and wanting to change the topic, I asked: "What kind of spells did you learn today?" "You will see.", Tom ensured me.
---
Dumbledore patiently waited until all of my classmates took a seat, then he cleared his throat: "Today's lesson will focus on transforming animals into water goblets. Not to worry, it is not particularly painful for them. So I've been told." He chuckled slightly. "The incarnation for this particular spell is rather difficult and relies on precise pronunciation and wand movement. If you don't succeed on your first try, you don't have to be disappointed in yourself.", the old wizard ensured us with a friendly tone. "Right then, let me demonstrate.", Professor Dumbledore rolled a bird in a cage closer to the class, before tapping the animal three times and then casting, "Vera Verto."
Instantly the bird transformed into a crystal clear water goblet. My classmates stared at it in awe. I found myself rather unimpressed. "Now that you have seen how it is done, we shall work on your pronunciation and wand movement. Repeat after me ", he demonstated the movement and spell a few more times for us to go along, but I mostly ignored it.
After we were done, Dumbledore smiled: "Please form teams of fives, I would like all of you to get the opportunity to try it out yourself, but there are only that many birds I can spare." I raised my hand in a confident matter, and before the man could say my name I already asked my questions: "Professor Dumbledore, how would one cast such a spell without the use of a wand? By tapping the animal with your finger? That could be rather dangerous, could it not?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment, his smile slightly twitching: "Well, Adrien, while I enjoy your enthusiasm and I am aware that you might find these lessons beneath you, I can't encourage you to cast such spells without a wand." "That doesn't answer my question.", I clarified. He nodded, full smile returning: "I suppose you would have to risk tapping the animal, as it is an essential part of the movement. Any other questions before we proceed?" My classmates remained silent.
The rest of the lesson went without any further incidents, not counting the side eyes and hushed whispers of the other students whenever I was nearby. Eventually, the class was dismissed and Professor Dumbledore pulled me aside: "I can only repeat myself, Adrien. Do not attempt these types of spells without a wand? Do you understand?" His voice was genuinely concerned, as if he knew I would try to do so anyways. "We'll see.", I stated, knowing that lying outright wouldn't work around him. The only people left in the classroom were the two of us now.
The man sighed, slowly shaking his head. He didn't seem angry, more disappointed and worried: "Is this Riddle's influence?" Finding myself slightly confused, I answered: "No?" "From what I can tell, the two of you have grown rather close to each other. I always see you sitting next to each other during lunch and spending time together after classes." "So?" Dumbledore's expression changed, as if pondering how to tell me what followed: "I do not wish to alarm you, but I don't think it is a wise choice to befriended him." "Why not?", I asked, "He's a brilliant student, is he not? I should be able to learn a lot from him."
The professor took a deep breath: "Riddle is a... most talented student. Yet I am concerned about where his ambitious might lead him." I tsked, outraged: "He's kind, polite, charming. What about that is concerning?" And yet I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a bit of truth in his words. "Adrien, I-" "You just can't handle the fact that I befriended a student you don't like!", I interrupted him. "It's not like that.", the old wizard said patiently. "Right.", I said sarcastically, before storming off.
---
Professor Merrythought was a very strict and orderly teacher, but I enjoyed the challenge it brought. And she also didn't shy away from testing our skills practically. With quiet fascination I watched as two students from my class threw one spell after the other against each other. Dueling on a heightened, rectengular, patted platform for all of us to witness. Eventually, Merrythought made the call: "That's enough. Avery, you win. See that Rosier makes it to the hospital wing." Nox nodded, helping his defeated adversary up and getting her off the platform.
"Morden, you're next. Choose an adversary. And please make it fair.", Merrythought called. Nox gave Basilton a knowing look as he stepped on the platform. Ever since the incident in which Tom and his friends stopped Crooked Nose from bullying me, he had left me alone. It didn't take long for Basilton to pick out a target: "Adrien de Lune." For a moment, the professor thought about the matchup, then she gave an approving nod: "De Lune."
I got on the platform, understanding the assignment. "From what I remember, the two of you have a... rough history with each other. You're not here to kill or majorly injur each other, I can only repeat myself.", Merrythought warned. Both of us nodded, coming together in the middle of the platform.
"Get your wands ready!", our teacher yelled. Simultaneously, we raised our wand in front of our heads as an answer. The boy stood around a head above me and I needed to crank my head up to look him in the eyes. But I was determined to win the duel nonetheless: "Seeking revenge, are we?" Basilton grinned: "There's nothing sweeter than it."
Then, apruptly, we lowered our wands and bowed, turning around and each taking seven steps away from the center of the platform. Spinning around once more, we now faced each other again. "On the count of three.", Merrythought called, "One, two, three!" "Expelliamus!", I yelled, quickly counter spelled by Basilton yelling, "Protego!" "Excellent reaction, Morden!", Merrythought complimented him.
"Let's make this a bit more interesting, shall we?", my opponent grinned, "How about no more counter spells, Professor?" "Morden, that would be - ..." "Sure, if you dare.", I interrupted Merrythought. She seemed to be rather displeased by it: "Minus 3 points from Slytherin for falling into my word, de Lune. But you may proceed." Still grinning, Basilton raised his wand again: "Everte Statum!" As the spell hit me, I wash pushed back several meters, a sharp pain in my chest before it quickly disappeared. It took me a second to get on my feet again, but I wasn't defeated yet.
But before I could even react, Basilton hit me with another spell: "Expelliamus!" And I felt how my wand was ripped out of my hand, flying off the platform. "What are you going to do now, de Lune?", the boy chuckled menacingly, "It's over."
Not yet.
Taking a steady stance, I held my hands in front of me, with only my pointing and ring fingers stretched out. The Slytherin laughed: "Is it your plan to poke me in the eyes?" "Not quite.", I answered determined, snapping my right arm foreward.
Expelliamus!
Basilton's eyes went wide the moment his wand left his hand: "How did you - ?" The crowd stared in awe. Even Professor Merrythought seemed impressed.
Accio virga!
I casted, catching my wand mid air as it flew towards me: "Who's laughing now, Morden?" "Sh-she can't do that!", Morden stuttered, "Professor Merrythought, you ought to say something!" Our teacher slowly nodded, still slightly surprised: "I believe you do not have the same unique set of skills to continue this duel, Morden?" She didn't wait for him to answer before she continued: "I believe this means you have won, Miss de Lune. What an outstanding performance, might I add. 10 points to Slytherin. Perhaps I was wrong in my judgement to not let you attend higher classes I teach..."
---
I was sitting with the small group of friends Ton had formed around himself over the years around the Slytherin table. "The last Quidditch match ought to have gained Slytherin a few more points.", Nox betted, "Hufflepuff lost by a large margin, after all." "And one of them got hurt.", Memphis grinned, "Looked ridiculous." Tom decided to join the conversation: "I still don't understand what you two like so much about Quidditch. Mediocre wizards and witches, chasing after flying balls with a broom... Couldn't imagine a bigger waste of time." Memphis chuckled: "You're just jealous that I'm the best chaser the world has ever seen." "Maybe in your dreams.", Nox laughed.
The Great Hall felt silent once Headmaster Dipped gently tipped his glass with his spoon: "Another year has passed, another house cup to award." Tom and I were sitting next to each other and at least I, for sure, was anxiously waiting for the results to be announced. Dippet continued: "In the fourth place, Hufflepuff with 298 points." A humble applause. "Third place, Gryffendor, 315 points." Another round of applause.
"In the second place, with 350 points...", he let the last syllable linger, before finishing his sentence, "Ravenclaw." More applause, some cheering here and there. "And finally, in the first place, with 387 points.", Dipped continued. Nox nudged menwith his elbow, whispering: "Third time's the charm." He grinned. "Slytherin!", our Headmaster yelled. The crowd cheered, Headmaster Dipped smiled, professor Slughorn seemed pleased, Tom besides me didn't react at all.
---
"So... What are you planning to do over the summer holidays?", I tried to start a conversation. Tom has been oddly quiet since the house cup award, getting lost in the pages of his book. This time unrelated to the dark arts, as not to gain suspicion of anyone nearby. It was still only evening, the two of us sitting together in a normal part of the library. He didn't answer. Collecting my thoughts, I tried it again: "Are you going on any holidays? Visiting other countries? Seeing your family?" He flinched slightly, barely visibly, at the word "family", something he avoided to talk about with great care. By now I mostly learned to interpret his body language and undertones, be it ever so subtle.
"You know, if you wanted to, you could come with me. Meet my mother. Stay at my home. See Calais... We could get there from London using a ferry in no time. Or perhaps even visit Paris for a few days. Im certain the old buildings would interest you. Their architecture, their history, their bond to the magic around them..." After a while, Tom finally looked up: "Proceed."
He seems to at least consider it...
"Well, my family owns a large variety of heirlooms and ancient books. Some of which are about the dark arts. Some of which you have likely never heard about.", I argued. As always, Tom took some time to think of his answer - something I started to highly appreciate about him: "It does sound tempting." "Come on, Tom. I could even teach you some French on the way."
Once more he hesitated: "I assume I won't have a nice welcome, considering your mother's... priorities." It was a statement, not a question. "Don't worry about my mother, I'll take care of her. Although it can't hurt to avoid as many conversations as possible. Otherwise she might start to ask questions." Another pause: "It certainly seems more intriguing than what I had planned prior.", he eventuell replied. "Yes!", I smiled in triumph.
---
The mansion looked exactly the way how I left it a year ago, when we arrived. Black brick walls, decorated with white and golden, symmetrical details, art deco style. Big windows and a perfectly mirrored front garden with carefully cut, rectangular bushes, centering on the grand entrance platform with stairs leading up to it. Tom slowed down for a moment, taking it all in, before continuing to follow me. "Now remember, you're a pureblood. Understood?", I reminded him before I knocked at the door. He barely seemed to listen to me, giving a simple nod while taking a closer look at the fine details of the facade of the mansion.
The door opened, a servant house-elf bowing the moment she recognized me. "May I take your bags?", Sylvie asked with a humble voice. It felt odd to hear someone speaking French again after a year of speaking English. Unlike what I've heard from many house-elf owners, I insisted on ours having access to fine clothing, medical and hygenic care, despite my mother not allowing me to give them any clothing. Although it didn't matter too much, as she was the head of the house and therefore their master to which they were magically bound.
I smiled, handing over my luggage: "Thank you." "Of course, Miss. What about your companion, Miss?", Sylvie pointed at Tom. For a moment, he hesitated. "She asked if she should take your luggage as well.", I translated. "I understood her.", Tom clarified, giving the house-elf his few bags, "Merci."
Sylvie smiled, leading us inside: "Your mother should be in her study." I nodded, while taking off my shoes and jacket. Tom followed my lead. As I it all over to the house-elf, I asked: "Sylvie, do you mind getting a guest room ready for Tom?" "Not at all, Miss." "And call Moriz.", I added, "It would be nice to be served some warm food after such a long trip." "Of course, Miss, any preferences when it comes to your dinner?" Expectantly I looked at the Slytherin beside me: "Tom?" "Nothing in particular, thank you." Sylvie gave a nod: "Would that be all, Miss?" "I believe so.", I answered. "I'll be on my way, then.", the house-elf said as she walked to the direction of the stairs leading up to our rooms. While I started to lead Tom to our dining room.
"You have multiple house-elves?", Tom asked slightly astonished, switching back to English out of convenience. I let out a chuckle before I explained: "We have three. Slyvie, the one you just met. Besides greeting anyone who knocks and taking care of any bags, shoes or coats, she is also responsible for keeping the house clean. Then there's Moriz, the best kitchen chef around, if you ask me. He also often helps Sylvie. And finally there's Jean, taking care of our garden and pets. He's... rather shy in comparison. But he's good at his job nonetheless."
"Pets?", Tom asked, "You never told me you had pets." "Mireille and Thierry, two hyppogriffs. Mireille belongs to my mother while Thierry is mine." He didn't seem surprised. I gestured the boy to enter the dining room before me. He did and hesitantly took a seat, observing the room.
"Anyway, I think today should be enough time to settle in. And tomorrow, I'll give you a tour of the house and show you the city. I thought that perhaps next week we could travel to Paris for a few days using the flewpowder network. Not only will it be a nice change of scenery, but I heard there will be a nice opera play. A magical one, of course. You won't believe what the muggles are missing out on." Tom smiled ever so faintly. "Oh, oh, and we've got to visit the catacombs. That seems like something that would be interesting to you for sure. And a little detour to Notre Dame can't hurt either. Then there would be - ..."
---
"You're-...", I started, but Tom cut me off. "Pure-blood, I know.", he reassured me. I took a deep breath before I knocked at my mother's study. "Come in.", she called feom within. Quickly checking my appearance one last time, I opened the door: "Good evening, mother." The room wasn't particularly big. Each side wall framed by big, completely dust free and systematically organized book shelves. On the other side, a few windows, silken curtains revealing the night sky and a nice view of our garden. As so often, my mother sat in her leather bound chair in front of her almost ancient wooden desk in front of such a window. A few books precisely placed on it, some pages marked by differently colored page markets. Her writing utensils perfectly lined up to her right, a bright lamp illuminating her workplace.
Without turning, she spoke: "I wondered when you would show up." "I bought a friend from school to stay over during the holidays. I hope you don't mind." "So I've heard.", she dipped her feather into her ink bottle, writing on a document. I cleared my throat: "Uhm... Tom, this is my mother... Marceline Felicie de Lune." "Pleasure to meet you.", he said with a polite, but staged, smile on his face. My mother didn't bother to react. I continued: "Mother, this is Tom..." I could barely hold my voice back from shaking. "Go on.", she encouraged me, her voice ice cold. "Tom Marvolo Riddle.", the boy introduced himself.
"Riddle?", finally my mother turned, "I don't believe I recognize that name. Which is a pity because-..." "Just let him stay here, ok?", I interrupted her, "Only for a few weeks." She looked at the boy, judging, taking in every single detail. A moment of silence passed. After a while, she seemed satisfied, slowly nodding: "Alright... A few weeks." I could barely believe it.
Then she narrowed her eyes, her attention going to me: "What did you do with your hair? Are there no hairdressers near Hogwarts?" Embarrassed I tried to hide my, by now, shoulder long streaks, pulling them to the side, away from my mother's gaze. I couldn't look her in the eyes as I murmured: "I... I let it grow out." A heartbeat. With a repulsed undertone, she hissed: "Get that fixed tomorrow. Dismissed." She waved us off, returning to her documents. Without hesitation, I turned to leave. Tom following close behind.
The tension in my shoulders dropped the second the door was closed behind the two of us. I let out an audible sigh of relief. "I can't believe she lets you stay.", I chuckled, still trying to comprehend what has happened. This time Tom took the lead away from the room: "Is she always like that towards you?" Not wanting to answer, I changed the topic: "Your room should be ready by now." I showed him the way, shortly arriving at a door. "I hope it is to your liking.", I smiled, opening it to reveal a specious, well decorated room, facing the street. Tom's luggage standing neatly next to the main closet, ready to be unpacked.
"It is most perfect, thank you.", the Slytherin ensured me. I gave a nod with a small smile. "You may cast spells on our property, but only outside. And only if you're not near Mireille or Thierry. The trace doesn't work here. If you need anything or have any other questions, my room's right there", I pounted to a door at the opposite side of the corridor. Just as I was about to leave him alone to get settled, he stopped me: "For what it's worth... I think you look quite charming with longer hair." A warm feeling expanded in my chest and a bright smile appeared on my face: "Thanks..." I couldn't tell if his compliment was genuine or not. Then I left him alone.
---
A few days have passed since our arrival and Tom's French was getting better and better, although privately the two of us still spoke English. Even my mother seemed to be quietly impressed by his intellect and skills, though she would never say it out loud. I still couldn't fathom how he convinced her to not get my hair cut. After one private conversation between them, no less.
My family's libary took up a proportionally large space of our home, which wasn't surprising, considering my family had a reputation for hoarding knowledge and anything ancient. "Usually... We don't take guests back here. But I promised you I'd show you this part of my home... of my life. And I always keep my promises."
The oldest section of our library simultaneously functioned as a small, personal museum with a reading nook. It was rather full with all sorts of old things passed through generations, but Sylvie made sure they never collected dust and were always kept in good shape. She also made sure that, despite the abundance of objects, books and bookshelves, it never felt crowded or untidy. Much to my mother's liking.
I handed Tom a pair of white gloves: "Do not touch anything without permission. And if I hand you over something, be very careful with it and do not touch it without gloves. Do you understand?" He gave a nod, then put them on. "Take a seat.", I gestured to the reading nook in the corner of the room, filled with a triangular couch and a small coffee table in front of it. The windows next to it, facing the garden, were closed by curtains that barely let any daylight inside. "Got any preferences for the tgings you would like to see? Ancient books, normal heirlooms, magical ones, -", I chuckled, "...cursed ones?" Tom gave a small shrug, though I knew he clearly had preferences. But he seemingly wanted to leave the choice up to me first.
"Well, I guess a good start would be this, then.", I figured, sitting down next to him and showing him a simple, golden ring on my finger. "I rarely wear it.", I explained, "But it's the only thing of my father I have. Or rather, the only thing he ever gifted me." "Is it magical?", Tom asked. I gave a nod: "It grows with me, so it always fits. And from what I could gather, it seems to be enchanted with some very powerful protection spells as well... My father gave it to me shortly after I was born. Said it should always remind me of him and his love towards me... My mother hates me for wearing it. But I actually quit like it." I smiled, fidgeting with the ring before taking it off for Tom to examine.
Gently he took it from me, letting the dim light of the day reflect on its surface: "I hope it is not too much of a personal question, but I always wondered about your father. You rarely speak of him, your mother pretends he doesn't exist, the house-elves avoid his name and he is not present in your house - not even in pictures." For a moment, I didn't know what to respond. Then, finally, I collected myself: "Our relationship to my father is... complicated, to say the least. All I know is that my parents met each other in Paris. It didn't take long for them to fall in love." I paused, not knowing how I should formulate my next sentence. So I decided to state it as a matter of fact: "Despite my father being one of Grindelwald's most devoted followers."
That seemed to peak Tom's interest. Though if you didn't know him well, you certainly could have missed it. "What happened?", Tom asked with a gentle voice, though I knew it was a fascade to hide his eagerness. "After I was born, he told my mother he needed to leave due to political reasons... Many of the cursed heirlooms and books about the Dark Arts you will find in this library came from him. They were gifts he sent us in his absence. Eventually they stopped...", I couldn't stop my voice from trembling, my eyes slightly tearing up, "And he never came back..." Silence fell between the two of us.
Then Tom hesitantly wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer into what seemed to be an attempted hug. There was no real pity in his gesture, no real empathy. But it felt comforting nonetheless. I gave the tiniest of smiles: "You know, my mother believes him leaving was less about wizarding politics and more about him falling in love with a circus freak he met after they saw a show of her... I think if she could erase that part of our family, she would.
She's so embarrassed about herself falling so quickly for a man who'd leave her on a whimp. It wouldn't surprise me if she compensated by adopting my grandparent's strict attitude towards anyone but family..." Tom seemed to pay more attention to my words than he ever did to Slughorn's ones in class: "What about you? What do you believe happened?" I hesitated for a moment, choosing my next words carefully: "I believe there's something darker behind all of it. Something my mother doesn't tell me."
---
Author's Note:
I know my blog has been low key all over the place in these past few weeks. So here's something I've been working on for a while.
A Harry Potter fanfic which literally started because a friend recommended to watch Fantastic Beasts. And I know another friend of mine is a HP fanatic, so we watched them together. Then we came up with crazy Ocs. Then I took those ideas and took them way too seriously... And then I ended up with Lucienne and a fanfic that likely has a bigger word count than any other story I've written so far.
There are many Harry Potter theories out there, from very plausible, like "Neville could have been the Chosen One", to ones that are more crazy sounding, like "Hagrid is a secret Death Eater". And I think this theory of mine definitely falls into the second category. That's why I think it would make a great Quibbler article. It all began with one simple fact: I like Regulus Black, but I hate him being dead. So what if he wasn't?
The Facts
In "The Deathly Hallows", Chapter 10: Kreacher's Tale, we find out the following about Regulus and his death:
"He was a Death Eater.", said Harry, "Sirius told me about him, he joined up when he was really young and then got cold feet and tried to leave - so they killed him."
Regulus was instantly recognizable as the boy sitting in the front row: he had the same dark hair and slightly haughty look of his brother, though he was smaller, slighter and rather less handsome than Sirius had been.
As Harry and Ron had become more discouraged, she (Hermione) seemed to have become more determined: "Whether he'd managed to destroy it (the locket) or not, he'd want to keep it hidden from Voldemort, wouldn't he?"
"...and when he was 16 years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. (...) And one day, a year after he had joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. (...)"
"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back" (...) "Elf magic isn't like wizard magic, is it?", said Ron, "I mean, they can apparate and disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can't."
"Master Regulus was worried, very worried. (...) Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden, and not to leave the house. And then, it was a little while later... Master Regulus came (...) one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell... and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave (...)"
"And he ordered Kreacher to leave without him. And he told Kreacher to go home and never to tell my mistress what he had done, but to destroy the first locket. And he drank - all the potion - and Kreacher swapped the lockets and watched as Master Regulus... was dragging beneath the water..."
In "The Half Blood Prince", Chapter 28, Regulus also wrote a letter regarding his death:
"To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.
- R.A.B."
---
Alright, let's take a look at some other interesting facts, shall we? In "The Order of the Phoenix", Chapter 10: Luna Lovegood, there's one very interesting Quibbler article:
(...)
"What people donât realize is that Sirius Black is a false
name,' says Mrs. Purkiss. "The man people believe to be Sirius Black is actually Stubby Boardman, lead singer of
the popular singing group The Hobgoblins, who retired
from public life after being struck in the ear by a turnip at a
concert in Little Norton Church Hall nearly fifteen years
ago. I recognized him the moment I saw his picture in the
paper. Now, Stubby couldn't possibly have committed those
crimes, because on the day in question he happened to be
enjoying a romantic candlelit dinner with me. I have
written to the Minister of Magic and am expecting him to
give Stubby, alias Sirius, a full pardon any day now."
Harry finished reading and stared at the page in disbelief.
Perhaps it was a joke, he thought, perhaps the magazine often printed spoof items.
---
Ok, now, let's do some math:
From a family tree, which Rowling drew, we know that Regulus was born in 1961. He joined the Death Eaters at 16 (fact 4) and, one year later (fact 4) he "died" (fact 7). I'm assuming Regulus joined in 1978 while still being 16 and before turning 17, so he could die in 1979 as written in the family tree as well. So he would have died aged 17 or 18, depending on the time of the year.
The Order of the Phoenix takes place in 1995 - 1996 (Harry's born 1980 and entered aged 11, in 1991 and the book takes place during his 5th year at Hogwarts).
1995 - nearly 15 years (so let's say 14) = 1981.
Which also adds up with the rest of the Quibbler article, because it claims Sirius Black to not have been present for "his" murders. Which happened in 1981.
So the math checks out.
---
The Theory
Surviving the Cave
We know that Regulus found out about the existence of horcruxes as well as what they mean in regard to Voldemort's mortality, thanks to his letter stating as much: "discovered your secret", "stolen the real horcrux", when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more." This likely also explains why he's acting so strange (fact 6). From the same letter, we can also conclude that he is fully aware of the dangers of the cave ("face death") and intends to "destroy it (the locket) as soon as I can". Many say that the letter sounds like a suicide note, particularly the "face death" part. However, I beg to differ because of those reasons.
Even if he was severely suicidal at the time, I highly doubt that he'd risk Kreacher, a house elf who he liked (fact 4), dealing with a horcrux by himself. And we also know that Kreacher could have very easily apparated both of them out of the cave and even the water, given that he already did so once (fact 5).
So he would have a solid motivation and way to get out of the cave alive. But what would he do then?
---
The Aftermath
I believe afterwards, Regulus would try everything in his power to destroy the locket, yet fail to do so. Simultaneously, he'd likely grow more paranoid about someone finding out that he stole it, particularly Voldemort. Because he'd know that a horcrux would be one of the only things the Dark Lord himself would likely show up to get back and torture (and later kill) whoever had stolen it. Violent methods to keep their ranks in check were very common after all (fact 1).
The fake locket Regulus had put into place would give him some time if Voldemort came back to the cave to check on his horcrux, but not much. So he grew increasingly paranoid, eventually giving up. He told Kreacher to keep trying to destroy the locket and tell no one about its existence (fact 3 and fact 7), so it's not a far stretch to say that he also told Kreacher to lie about his death, so no one will be looking for him. And then they go their separate ways.
Kreacher goes back to the Blacks and Regulus is on the run, trying to disappear. To do so, he changes his name to something that couldn't sound more different from Regulus Arcturus Black: Stubby Boardman. And, in order to gain some money for his newly forged life, he starts to perform in small pubs and alike, always staying on the move, never revealing his dark mark. Until eventually, 2 years later (1981), he had formed a small band and meets Mrs. Purkiss.
---
Given that Regulus was only an active Death Eater for 1-2 years (age 16 - 17/18) and the fact that he was mostly underaged at the time, I highly doubt he had any outstanding reputation, like Bellatrix. So authorities would likely prioritize other Death Eaters during the war and the aftermath. I also don't think any of the Death Eaters cared enough to double check, since Regulus likely had a very low rank and the "borrowing Kreacher" part was his first big contribution. And I'm also pretty sure that none of them would have the time or care enough to check out some small, new singer.
Stubby has to have a close resemblance to Sirius Black, since Mrs. Purkiss "recognized him the moment I saw his picture in the
paper". And we know Regulus appearance also closely resembles that of Sirius (fact 2).
Being part of a band could give several advantages other jobs don't, at the time:
Way lower profile than any ministry job or similar (lesser attention from those who could instantly recognize him)
Quick and easy money without coming from a single source -> independent income
A very logical reason to constantly be on the move and stay at different places besides being a fugitive
Any inconsistencies in the Quibbler article, like The Hobgoblins being popular can just be interpreted as Mrs. Purkiss overestimated the popularity of the small band or the Quibbler doing so. After all, they're known to "often print spoof items".
Today, my dear friends, a huge chapter of my life came to an end...
And to celebrate the occasion:
Here's the WIP of...
Storyverse - The TTRPG
My very own TTRPG based on the 5e SRD. Something I've been teasing about on this blog for quite some time. It still isn't playable and far from finished. But I thought: "Why not take you on this journey with me? Why not let you guys see how I approach my work? How my project develops and slowly crystallizes?" So here it is, for any and all to see. Updated and synced in real time.
---
The special occasion in question is a journey which took my players and me (DM) multiple years to finish. A journey that has changed and moved each and every single one of us. A journey which brought us together to spend time with each other and, for a few hours, get away from our busy lives. We laughed together, cried together, bullied Declan together... It all started with our friend @danihani , dragging us into the wonderful world of DnD. It all started with Campaign 1 and a group of completely new players and a completely new DM. Then came Campaign 2, becoming my first entirely English one. Then we journeyed through the Between the Tales campaign, which was DMed by another friend of mine only to end up here: The Crossover Campaign between C1 and C2. And today... was the final session. Perhaps this will be the end of the Tales of Velmoria. Or perhaps it will be the beginning of a new chapter with new characters and even more new DMs.
Recently re-watched a few shows and movies I love, but no one ever talks about. So I decided to make a list of, in my opinion, hidden gems. Giving a short summary of the premise. Enjoy :)
Animated Shows
Undone: Rotoscope animated show about generational trauma, mental health, stigmatization and a supernatural element to tie it all together thrown into the mix. Highly diverse characters which genuinely play a big part in shaping the story and heavy plot beats that are, in my opinion, handled extremely well and seriously.
Pantheon: 2D animated show in a similar style to Invincible. Very interesting take on modern technology and raises a ton of philosophical questions such as: What makes us human? What is consciousness? What is reality? Not to mention all of the ethical dilemmas this show introduces and covers.
My Daemon: Similar animation style to The Dragon Prince and set in a post apocalyptic world, this story is less focused on heavy themes but covers many nonetheless. Imagine PokĂŠmon, but instead of Pikachu you have Anna, a companion with the ability to singlehandedly end the world and instead of Ash you have Kento, a kind hearted soul who is doomed to die.
Animated Movies
Treasure Planet: Gorgeous animation style which blends 2D animation with 3D animation methods. The story is simple - a treasure hunt - but it is more about the journey than the destination. Get ready for heartwarming character interactions and a nice redemption story.
Atlantis: Very stylized 2D animation style, epic story and a really fun and diverse cast of characters - what else could you ask for? The story has a very interesting take on the lost city of Atlantis and the end might have been one of the best plot twists I've seen.
Anastasia: Feels like a classic, animated Disney movie, but it isn't. Inspired by the real life story of the Romanov family and all the rumors surrounding it, this story is all about self discovery. It also has the only villain I was genuinely creeped out about as a child. And that must be saying something, cause I watched a shit ton of shows and movies which were meant for an older audience as a kid.
The Last Unicorn: Criminally underrated. A classic that no one ever even heard about. Gorgeous animation, truly moving music and ma man, the story is an emotional rollercoaster all about finding others like you; a place you belong to. I don't remember much about the ending, but I do know it was very sad. Not sure if in a good or bad way.
Feel free to add some hidden gems of your own. I know I'll surely expand the list over time.
Was it exhausting? Oh, absolutely, especially considering it went on from 16:00-4:00, two friends slept over at my place, we played DnD together the next day and somewhen I also had to find the time to go voting.
Some of the Species of my own TTRPG, Storyverse, as...
â¨Aestheticsâ¨
Also, update:
Got all of my basics down, like the entire "How to Play" chapter and "Character Creation" chapter. The only thing that's still a complete wip are the species, subspecies, classes and subclasses. The vast majority have some lore and flavor already. But I'm struggling to reflect that mechanic wise. Also: I haven't even started with the Backgrounds, Equipment, Spells and Bestiary yet. So... yeah... we'll see where this goes. ÂŻâ \â _â (â ăâ )â _â /â ÂŻ
Made a Harry Potter Oc, Lucienne De Lune. Born as Adrien De Lune, but changing her name before she transitioned :)
She's the daughter of Aurelius Dumbledore (Credence Barebone) and studied magic on Hogwarts starting as a second year, after getting kicked out of Beauxbatons for tailoring her uniform and experimenting with advanced, wandless and wordless magic. Lucienne got sorted into Slytherin and she's just one year younger than Tom Riddle. Who she would befriend over time, getting more and more tangled up in the dark arts and eventually even creating a horcrux herself. Until one day, Tom and her had a fallout which made her realize that he's been using her this whole time. She'd graduate as the top student of her grade level and later become an Auror, determined to use her knowledge about the wizard now known as Voldemort.
My friend's a Harry Potter fan and after hearing some good reviews from another friend, the two of us decided to watch the Fantastic Beasts movies. Decided to go wild and play around with some characters for fun, which got me to creating a Harry Potter Oc.
Edit:
Welp, since my beautiful explanation regarding a controversy got deleted together with the original comment which I replied to, I guess I'll clarify it here:
I always separate art from artist, be it music, a show, a book (series) or, in this case a movie franchise. When I say I like a certain band, I always mean their music, not the people behind it (it's simply easier to name the band than to name each song). If the artist behind a piece of art is a genuinely good person? More power to them. If they aren't? Fuck them.
Harry Potter, for me, is a very flawed and questionable franchise. I have never read the books and I likely never will. However, I enjoy the concept. It's simply the execution that's lacking. I also like the aesthetic and I love most of the fandom. Because they have taken this controversial world and made it their own, reclaimed it, making it diverse without it feeling hypocritical. The franchise is fun and I think you should be allowed to enjoy something without feeling guilty for it.
I hate J.K Rowling, but I think you should admit that she's created an iconic franchise while doing so. I don't support her financially in any way and I believe that's the best way to go about it as well if you find yourself in the same position that I am: Enjoy the franchise, go wild with fanfics and fanart, create your own wand and robes, so long as you don't buy official merchandise. Because that directly supports Rowling. Instead, DIY, or commission (small) artists, borrow the movies and books from a friend or the library, buy them second hand, read/watch them on piracy websites, get them while they're 100% free. You can still enjoy something while simultaneously bankrupting whoever stands behind it. (Although in the case of Rowling that sadly won't happen any time soon.)
I have bought the main movies in a bundle (about 30âŹ) long before I was aware of the controversies around Rowling. Long before I knew what a hypocritical and queerplatonic asshole she was. I bought a Schleich hippogriff (about 25âŹ), because Schleich figurines make surprisingly good and cheap DnD minis and it was the only hippogriff I could find. I bought a single Hogwarts pin (about 10âŹ) when I visited London for the first time in my life, because Harry Potter seemed to be an icon of the city and I collect pins.
And I got Hogwarts Legacy when it was free on the Epic Games Store. Then there's a wand pen my previously mentioned friend gifted me (without me knowing about it prior, it was a surprise). That's all the official Harry Potter merch I own. And that's likely all I'll ever own.
I spent roughly 65⏠on this franchise in total. If you believe that makes me just as bad as Rowling, I can't change your mind about it. But I hope you at least understand where I'm coming from.
