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IMPORTANT
due to low activity on this blog, little time, and my own inability to keep up with multiple blogs, val will be moved to my new multimuse !! it’s unlikely i will check this blog again, but i will keep it as an archive.
“I stole the diadem”
the story of the four founders of Hogwarts: Over a thousand years ago, the four greatest witches and wizards of the age dream to protect the young wizards of the muggle persecution during the dark middle age. Godric Gryffindor (Richard Madden), Helga Hufflepuff (Rachel Weisz), Rowena Ravenclaw (Gemma Arterton) and Salazar Slytherin (Michael Fassbeder) build a castle together, far from Muggle eyes. They live in harmony during a moment, until Salazar begins to want to accept only pure blood in the school. The dissensions start between the four, until an epic fight…
My jaw dropped. There should be a Hogwarts Prequel!
hi hello yes those starters i owe will come either tomorrow or towards the end of next week--------- i wanted to do some writing here today after finishing uni work, but then i fell on the long walk down memory lane and i can’t get up whoops
hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home
○ wildmoored:
He had anticipated her response before it had even been made, and so Garrett did not react in disbelief or offence, but with the same stillness that always overtook him when he tapped into that side of himself. Godric had been a WILDFIRE until his last breath, nothing short of burning and bleeding passion and force and energy, but the weight of that legend and the near-sanctity of that legacy always made him still. He could not claim the same identity as the name which continued to command respect a thousand years later and be anything short of impressive, himself.
“It’s not a joke, Helena,” and he felt it, the same dull buzz in the back of his brain that came with acknowledging Godric.
But it was difficult for her, he reasoned. A thousand years since the founders four had all died and yet here he stood, seventeen and about to leave once more, having waited this long to introduce himself. Why not sooner? Why not right away?
Could he have even done this properly when he had been eleven and unable to sleep, fourteen and consumed with everything surrounding the Salazar-of-today and the Chamber of Secrets, sixteen when Cedric Diggory had just been murdered? No, it was only now that he felt whole, only now that he felt strong. Only now that he felt REAL.
“Ask me anything he would have known. Ask me to describe any day he spent with you. Something the world forgot about the first days of this castle.” Garrett always found it easier to speak of Godric as someone else; they were the same, the bits and flickers that made up the soul or spirit or what-have-you inside of him had been the same things that had made up Godric. But they had lived different lives, loved different people. Garrett still had most of his family. He still had a home.
They were the same clay, shaped by different hands, filled with different stuff and named different names, but they would crack and break and endure and hold just the same.
“Ask me and I’ll prove it to you.”
unable to bear the look of him any longer, she directed her gaze at the floor. the idea to simply disappear was still very much prominent in her mind --------- and became more tempting by the second. it might have been the bitterness, the centuries of loneliness that had left her too emotionally stunted to be able to deal with this situation properly, a millennium of anonymity and the fatal consequences of the last time someone had recognized her. what struck her at the prospect of proof was not elation, but f e a r . of disappointment. ( it had to be a lie. ) of the consequences. ( simply couldn’t be the truth. ) of his judgement. ( should he really be . . . )
the matter might be supposedly easy to settle ( and that fact in itself seemed to make it even more unreal ) --------- with the right question, anyway, for the same reasons that should make the very notion impossible. the problem was not thinking of a question ( there were enough; enough moments, enough memories no history book nor legend could know about ) but what would happen after she asked it. when she tried to force herself to imagine --- to just accept even the possibility he was telling the truth --- her mind came up blank. she wasn’t even sure what would hurt more; if he lied, or if he didn’t.
“ very well. ” her agreement was reluctant, but as much as she dreaded the outcome, she found she could not n o t ask, either. after all --------- do or do not, she was almost certain she was going to regret it either way, and her shoulders slumped slightly at the realization.
when she spoke again, helena was certain her abstruse emotions must be audible in her voice, but the scowl she put on to mask it was likely not very convincing. “ the first time . . . we met. ” and just as she said it, her eyes found his again, looking for something. either something she would recognize or some indicator that told her he was lying, making something up, drawing from a knowledge he should not have. ( how? intuition, she told herself. she’d know by intuition, rusty as it was. )
“ when my mother brought me to the castle, what was the first thing you said to me when we met? ”
@wildmoored said: TBH I hc that G always asked to be allowed to go find her but they needed him at the castle :/
ok but like . . . that makes the whole thing about thrice as painful bc? i’m just imagening his reaction to a) the baron being sent and b) getting the news of what happened and like . . . i am dead inside this is killing me. he might’ve actually been the only person who might’ve convinced here and then . . . that happened instead.
@pcndragcn said: lays on u tbh
i’m not saying this would be the perfect thing to plot with you but like . . . the opportunities here my friend . . . yes please i’d be totally up for this if you are
ok but i really really want an au where someone else is sent after helena? & finds her & doesn’t kill her. for one i’d like to see how they’d try to convince her to come back & for another (if they succeed or not) how her life might’ve turned out if she’d actually gotten to live it.
like for an angsty / dramatic / emotional starter while i’m finishing my medieval studies homework !!
harry potter meme — Helena Ravenclaw / the Grey Lady
Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.
Richard Kadrey, Kill the Dead (via wordsnquotes)
hogwarts, founded early in the 10 century.
○ wildmoored:
Stiller than he normally stood, Garrett’s hands rested in his pockets as he awaited a response — and he thought he saw something flicker across her face. Did she know, could she tell? It was one thing to find the others again, when he did find them, they had all lived and died but they had also all come back, contemporaries once again, for reasons unknown.
It was a very different beast to finally speak with the girl who had been like a daughter to him, whom he had loved, whom he had mourned – the girl who knew him, only ever knew him, as Godric, as a middle-aged man, and she had lived as a ghost since those days, when was now fresh and young again.
Garrett remembered those terrible feelings of pain and loss even if he did not quite experience them now. He remembered the grief and how everything broke apart afterwards. He felt a vague sort of sadness, maybe, an odd twinge — and he was grateful that it was not something worse, though the thought also caused him guilt.
“It’s me,” he said, and, looking around to ensure no one else was nearby to hear him say the words, he continued. “Godric. I came back. I don’t know why, but it’s me, and — here I am. I remember you.”
if she had any breath to hold, she would do so now. helena wasn’t sure what she had expected, but certainly not this. impossible. simply impossible. not once in her life ------ or in death ------ had she heard of such a thing happening, let alone met someone who actually believed even in the possibility of it. madness was what this was, perhaps a psychic ability gone wild, or . . . OR.
“ that, ” she whispered, even more quietly than before --------- barely humanly possible, but then again, she’d left humanity behind long ago. if she had actual, physical teeth to grate, it would surely be audible now in the following pause; the very idea was too enraging to put into words. without even noticing, she flickered backwards --------- as if the statement had been a physical blow.
‘ i remember you. ’ hardly. too good to be true.
she didn’t know how --------- there were no books so much as mentioning her name in the hogwarts library, she’d made sure of that; the memory of him, of the person, not the legend, should be too diluted to make a connection; it had been centuries, generations . . . but it was the only l o g i c a l possibility. ( logic. this needed to be approached with logic, not with confused emotions, not with hurt feelings, not with hope. )
“ that is quite a cruel joke to make. ”
○ fadetogrey:
@ravenclawsghost | ♥’d ( song )
« I hate people when they’re not polite. »
“ --------- is that a general statement, or do you have anyone particular in mind? ”
idea: just change verse tags to something sensible and creative reality: too in love with the corpse bride sountrack to care there aren’t any more usable titles
