a badger's bite @erniexmac-blog - Tumblr Blog

post-hogwarts moodboard x ernie macmillan

“the question is not how to get cured, but how to live.”

#aesthetic moodboard #moodboard #aesthetic

ernie macmillan x moodboard 2

brcklehursts‌:

Clocking the face and the robes, Mandy paused. Several years ago, she might have given the book up in pity - adamant that Hufflepuffs needed that extra push to get the same grades. (Where the wooly-headed stereotype had come from, she didn’t know). But these days, she wasn’t under those illusions anymore - acutely aware of the intellect of the badgers. It might not match her house - but still, way superior to Gryffindor. Which meant she wasn’t giving the book up without a fight. “Sorry. No can do Ernie. Slughorn will eat me if I don’t get this essay in on time.” Probably not true, considering she consistently came in the top half of the class, but he hadn’t picked her for slug club yet and well…she’d do anything to get in. Tugging harder, she narrowed her gaze. “I’ll drop it off when I’m done. Promise.”

He gripped onto the book even tighter, determined not to lose his hold. With anyone else, Ernie would hope to appeal to their generous nature, but he wasn’t sure that Mandy had a single generous bone in her body. At least, not for the people she didn’t care about and he obviously hadn’t made that list. “We could share it?” He questioned meekly, shooting the witch a hopeful smile. Ernie struggled with relying on his charm; mostly because had very little to speak of. “And do our potions homework together, I’ll even let you in on my secre tips. Not that you need them, but that’s besides the point.” Potions being the only class that the Hufflepuff excelled in, Ernie knew that the work wouldn’t take all that long. However, Mandy did not seem like the type to work well in teams - Ravenclaws rarely were. “Come on, we’d be a dream team!” He enthused, still running on delirious exhaustion.

#marchofmandy #this is late late late #but I finally have time to write

☠

The Hufflepuff common room was completely packed with people from all houses. Normally, Ernie would object to breaking the ‘only badgers’ rule, something rather sacred to Hufflepuffs, but even he had to admit it was worth it. After so many shots the wizard barely cared anyway. At first, it had been people encouraging him to drink, yet as the night progressed Ernie found himself becoming the instigator. He realised, to his detriment, that the more alcohol you consumed, the better it started to taste.

Ernie liked Terry - he thought the guy was cool, even if the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. He wanted people to like him, but he knew he didn’t have many likeable qualities. In an inebriated state, however, Ernie regarded everyone as a friend. “Terry, mate, you need to do a shot - right now!” He half-shouted into the other wizard’s ear, winding an arm around his shoulder. “Look, I’ll even do one with you.” Enthusiastically, he led Terry to a table in the centre of the room. With shaky hands, Ernie poured two generous shots, spilling alcohol down the sides of both glasses. Handing one to the Ravenclaw and taking the other for himself, he held the shot into the air. “Cheers!”

#marchofterry #event 02 #tcrryboots

☁ + are you a virgin

The splutter that erupted from Ernie’s mouth at the question was entirely unintentional. Of course it would be Pansy Parkinson that caused him to choke on air and make a fool of himself in front of everyone. Eyes widening, his lips parted to answer, yet he made no move to form any real words. He continued to involuntarily release an incoherent stream of consonants and filler sounds for a solid thirty seconds before finally shoving his hand over his mouth. The person sitting next to Ernie handed him a shot, which he downed quickly without complaint, slamming the glass down on the floor in front of him. He locked eyes with Pansy again, wiping the traces of alcohol from his lips. “Clearly.” The wizard answered pitifully, too drunk to let any embarrassment linger. “Want to change that?” He winked, trying to regain a semblance of the self-confidence he once had.

#marchofpansy #event 02 #why is he like this #pcrkinscns

⚡ + wear your socks as gloves

Ernie’s nose scrunched up in distaste at the dare. “I’ve been wearing these all night they’ll be sweaty.” He whined, but moved to comply. The combination of alcohol and the small room filled with people caused him to overheat and made his skin red and blotchy. While he would have preferred taking another shot, or something else less unhygienic, Ernie could never back down from a challenge. He pulled off his shoes to reveal the Hufflepuff striped socks, cringing at the unfortunate choice. Yanking the yellow and black monstrosities from his feet and reluctantly placing his hands inside, Ernie grimaced. “Happy now?” He asked rhetorically, moving his hands together like make-shift sock puppets in Morag’s face.

#marchofmorag #event 02 #lol ernie is a wimp we been knew #moragmac

❝ (hannah!)

Most people, including many in his own house, thought Ernie was boring. Thankfully, Hannah and Justin knew that an affinity for following the rules didn’t necessarily make someone a buzzkill; he could be fun, when the situation called for it. With all the stress that he’d been under lately, Ernie was actually excited to let loose. Perhaps too excited. Having only recently turned seventeen, the wizard had very little experience with alcohol and therefore hadn’t built up much of a tolerance. After a few drinks too many, Ernie’s speech became slurred and he clumsily bumped into someone, giggling. “Hannah!” He exclaimed jovially, arms falling open to embrace her. “My bestest friend in the entire world, I love you.” Ernie grinned, bopping her on the nose, before suddenly his demeanour switched. “One of my bestest friends - I miss Justin. I love him, you know?” His eyes glazed over as he spoke, mouth down-turned in a pout. “I love you both so much I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you, but I love him.” It was the first time he’d said it out loud, the first time he’d even admitted it to himself. Ernie’s breath quicken and tears threatened to spill from his closed lids. “I … Hannah, I need another drink.” He moaned, standing abruptly and moved to grab the closest bottle.

#event 02 #marchofhannah #omg character development wow #moragmac

marchofwarhq-blog

Below the cut is an ASK MEME for our Hufflepuff party event. This is a bit different than a typical ask meme, so here’s how it will work:

REBLOG THIS POST to participate (you can still send things to other people if you don’t participate yourself).

Send a maximum of one symbol to each person who reblogs, so no one gets flooded with more than they can write (unless you play more than one character, in which case you can send one for each).

Unlike typical ask memes, the content of these replies will be considered just as “real” as a normal thread.

For this reason, event memes DO count towards activity.

We also want to be careful with god-modding here, since anything you send someone is an actual event that will be happening. If you haven’t already discussed it, please shoot a quick message before sending a meme in order to make sure the other player is down with the idea / hasn’t already gotten too many of that same symbol.

These memes can serve as starters for threads if you wish ! Just make sure you copy & paste the first reply into a new post rather than reblogging the original ask.

They can also be short if you’d like — they’re meant to allow for quick, fun interactions like one would have at a party. Although if you’d prefer to go deeper into it, that’s fine too !

Keep reading

#yaaaassss #event02

lisaturpins‌:

“Simmer down, Easy Mac—clearly you’re jealous of my entrepreneurial spirit, but that’s no reason to make empty threats.” Lisa gave him an unimpressed look, holding out the bottle she’d been holding with a flourish, “And I don’t think I quite like your disparaging tone, old chap. I’ll have you know this is the highest quality of illegally brewed concoctions. You sure you don’t want a taste? It might loosen your tighty-whities just enough to yank the stick out of your ass.”

Maybe for a moment Ernie was tempted. As a means of escape alcohol could be very effective, but he’d rather not end up on that dangerous slope. “Despite your quality assurance, I’m still not entirely convinced I wouldn’t go blind.” He snarked, half-heartedly, sinking to sit on the floor. “If there was a stick up my ass you’re the last person I’d call to help with it.” Ernie didn’t know what to make of Lisa; she was brash and crass, yet he found her rather refreshing.

#marchoflisa

justrpmemesandmusings

send “mix tape” for my muse to make a list of 5 songs that they think explain how they feel for your muse

#okay might be hard bc i dont have many solid conections #but like !!! i love this shit #ask meme

brcklehursts

WHEN: 13th january 1998, 4:22pm WHERE: library WHO: open

Preferring to bury her head in work (or, some might contest, the sand), Mandy had secured her favourite table (the rear of the library, besides the fire, far far far away from where first years might settle) at ten, working around the clock since then. Ancient Runes. Potions. Anything that demanded focus and precision. Anything that could be scientifically counted and measured. Anything that had a logical answer. That could not be disputed. Wasn’t it the very definition of perfection? A precision. A point. Pushing aside any thought of Dumbledore’s Armies antics, or the response from the Carrows (honestly, grown adults ought to know better than to respond to such pettiness), Mandy browsed the shelves, reaching for a book the exact moment someone on the other side of the shelf did. Tugging hard, Mandy arched an eyebrow, smiling softly. “Finders keepers?”

erniexmac-blog

Any waking moment of Ernie’s not spent patrolling the corridors or working against the plagues of Death Eaters invading the castle was likely spent in the library. Unfortunately, contrary to his claims in fifth year, he no longer had eight hours to spare for studying. Despite everything going on, Ernie could not afford to fail his exams. The carnal need to prove himself worthy never left. Not even the Carrows could curse it out of him. His father expected a certain standard and he was determined to deliver, even if it meant getting little-to-no sleep most nights. He would survive; he always did. In the moment, as he wandered past the library shelves, all Ernie had to worry about was finding the book he needed for potions class. Catching the gold lettering out of the corner of his eye, the Hufflepuff reached out and pulled. The pressure from the other side surprised him, but not as much as locking eyes with Mandy Brocklehurst. “Or you could just let me take it? Uh, please?” Normally Ernie came prepared to argue his way out of things, but sleep deprivation got the better of him.

#marchofmandy #tired Ernie is stupid #and tired #tw torture

where: Hufflepuff Common Room when: January 17, 1998, 11:56pm who: @abbbott

Before 7th year, Ernie Macmillan had never been given a detention and he was proud to admit it. He took the rules seriously and was the most dedicated prefect Hogwarts had ever seen. His last year taught him that some things were more important. Ernie would step in and take punishment without a second thought if it meant saving someone else from the Carrows. Not everyone found following the rules as easy as he did. Some of the younger Hufflepuffs in particular had problems with it and Ernie felt especially protective over them. No fourteen year old should know the crippling pain of a cruciatus curse. No seventeen year old should either, but Ernie could handle it.

The Carrows didn’t go easy on him; the torture seemed to escalate every time. He walked back to the common room, his legs shaking, a few more steps from giving out. Expecting it to be empty, he collapsed on the couch with a breathy sigh. Of course, he couldn’t be so lucky. “You don’t need to worry about me, Hannah.” He mumbled half-heartedly, face buried in the plush cushions. “I’m fine, really.” It shouldn’t really have surprised him that she waited up. It wasn’t the first time and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last, no matter how many times he told her not to bother.

Lifting his head up ever-so-slightly, Ernie made eye contact with the witch. He tried to be stern, but, as usual, failed when faced with her worried expression. “I can take care of myself.”

#marchofhannah #omg finally im sorry this took an age #exams have been killing me #this is kind of a trash starter #but im excited to finally get them together #violence tw #torture tw

lisaturpins-blog1

where: Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when: January 15, 1998, 12:26am who: open

It’d been a long evening of moonshine-making with Seamus, made even longer by the fact that they drank about as much as they made; they’d decided that testing the product was of the utmost importance—they wouldn’t want to put a low quality product on the market, now would they? Lisa had found herself staying behind in Myrtles bathroom, not yet ready to make the trek back to the tower, and knowing that Myrtle was, thankfully, as good a Carrow deterrent as there was in this castle.

Which is why when someone decidedly not a Carrow walked through the door, Lisa raised the bottle to them in a mock salute, “If you’re here thinking I’m going to share, it’s going to cost you.”

erniexmac-blog

Never in his life did Ernie think he’d be desperate enough to brave Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom for some alone time, but life was full of surprises. He’d had a shit day, to say the least, and all he wanted was to punch a wall and then cry in peace. Of course, the universe had other plans for him. Instead of the usual annoying wailing, Ernie was greeted by the thick scent of alcohol and Lisa Turpin’s smirking face. He shouldn't have been surprised.

“If you think I’m about to buy some illegally brewed concoction from you, then you really don’t understand your market.” Ernie huffed, moving to lean against the wall. “I would report you, trust me, but no crime is worth the punishment being dished out right now.”

#marchoflisa #in which ernie is a pompous dick #but not -that- much of a pompous dick #alcohol tw

seamusburning

when: 14 January, 1998, 18:00 where: the owlery who: open

seamus had been shivering the entire walk from charms to care of magical creatures. it was fucking freezing out, and the castle seemed to be doing a shit job at keeping the cold at bay. maybe because it had bigger threats to contest. he had just settled on the fact that he would spent the class with his teeth chattering so loudly he wouldn’t even be able to hear hagrid. it wouldn’t be the first time. however, the sight of snape stopped him dead in his tracks. they locked eyes, and seamus’s blood began boiling. suddenly the cold was the least of his worries. he spent the entire lesson watching their so-called headmaster, barely able to pull his focus even when hagrid has asked seamus to help demonstrate with the lesson. just a routine observation, he assured the boy, clearly able to see the all-too-common mix of emotions etched across his face. seamus wanted to believe him.

the moment class let out, though, seamus allowed his feet to carry him far away from hagrid’s hut. they didn’t stop until he reached the owlery — one of the only places seamus thought he might be alone. who would be sending letters when they were all being filtered anyway? seamus let out a scream — frustration, rage, sadness, fear, confusion all combined into one anguished cry. “i hate it here, i hate it here, i hate it here,” he repeated to himself as he stomped around, stopping only when he saw a body silhouetted in the entrance. “what the fuck do you want?” he spat out, unable to contain his embarrassed anger.

erniexmac-blog

Wednesday evenings happened to be one of the few times a week Ernie had free. Between all of his schoolwork, prefects duties and DA meetings, a spare moment in his schedule was becoming increasingly rare. That particular evening found him in the owlery sending off a letter to his parents. He didn't want them to know the extent to which Hogwarts had been lost to the Death Eaters; the less they knew, the safer they were. Still, he liked the owlery. The soft hoots of the owls calmed him and he enjoyed treating his own, Athena, every once in a while. Ernie sat in the corner petting her feathers and, for once, minding his own business, when he was startled by an anguished scream.

Quickly scampering to his feet, Ernie rushed to see what exactly was going on. He dug his wand from his pocket clumsily in case he couldn't defuse the situation with wise words and his prefect badge. The sight of Seamus screaming into thin air surprised him, to say the least. “Wow, what did the owls do to you?” Ernie snarked instinctively, but his eyes widened when he realised he'd said the words out loud. It was maybe not the correct response to an outburst like the one he had just witnessed. “Uh, I mean, are you alright mate?” Taking in the state of the wizard, Ernie winced again. “Stupid question, right. Can I do anything to help?”