"... and most of all, I miss book shopping with you in Hogsmeade, your carefree smile permanently etched in my mind as I carried all your bags. I know you'll never forgive me for what happened with Uncle Solomon, but I hope that wherever you are, you're living your best life."
Hufflepuff just got absolutely steamrolled by Slytherin.
His best friend Felix Nott caught the Snitch, got the girl, and somehow managed to look annoyingly handsome while doing both.
His captain correctly identifies that he spent most of the match staring at either the Slytherin Seeker or the purple-eyed witch in the stands instead of doing his actual job.
Featuring:
A Hufflepuff team sharing a single braincell
Seeker:
Lupin Engel taking a nap before, during, and possibly after the match by @speedysart
Keeper:
Althea Moonlace trying to captain a group of idiots by @amethystandemma
Beater:
Marlowe Brooks (mine)
Liam Calloway adopting the entire team by @baby-snakey
Chaser:
Soren Falkner performing miracles by @stein0806
Orpheus Kerr being one minor inconvenience away from a murder charge by @amus2110
Luca Juniper Bellandi discovering that positive thinking does not, in fact, stop Slytherin from scoring by @mavenantonia
Other guests:
Slytherins Seeker: Puppy boy Felix Nott by @sunkissedtrampolin3
Slytherins Beater: Silas Nott attempting homicide via Bludger by @sunkissedtrampolin3
Slytherins Keeper: Is he real? Arthur Montgomery by @/darkartswithsallow
Larissa Shelby by @sunkissedtrampolin3
Reika Kaguya (mine)
In short: Marlowe discovers that being distracted by one attractive person is manageable. Being distracted by two is a health hazard.
Thank you all for lending me your OCs for this one-shot! It was so much more fun getting to write all their different personalities instead of filling the team with random placeholder names.
Sorry that we got absolutely destroyed by Slytherin, though.
3283 words under the cut:
By the time I shoved open the locker room door, our first Chaser, Luca Bellandi, was already standing on a bench.
“Today,” he announced dramatically, pointing at what he thought was his audience, “we prove once and for all that Hufflepuff is the superior house.”
A boot flew through the air, slamming into the wall behind him. I was pretty sure Althea Moonlace missed on purpose. Bellandi barely ducked out of the way.
“Get down before I throw the other one,” Moonlace barked.
Bellandi grinned. “Captain, your faith in me is inspiring.”
“My faith in you lot is nonexistent, seeing you joke around when we have one of the hardest games of the year. The younger Nott will be playing as their Seeker today.”
So Silas was actually letting Felix play for once. It was about time. He’s their best.
Not that I’d ever tell him. Or my team.
But my team didn’t need a reminder that this was going to be difficult.
Orpheus Kerr, our second Chaser, looked like he was attending a funeral. Or planning one.
His jaw ticked as he stared at the floor. The guy looked ready to murder our opponents with his bare hands, as if we’d already lost the game. Man, have a little faith in us.
Our third Chaser didn’t look much better, though there was less violence in the way he tightened the straps on his gloves. Not yet, at least.
Soren Falkner was a contradiction I didn’t know what to do with. Calm and composed even when I told him his Potions looked like utter rubbish, but on the field?
Man went nuts.
The somersaults he pulled off when enemies sent Bludger after Bludger his way made me question whether he had secretly been trained by tightrope walkers.
Liam Calloway appeared out of nowhere, startling me slightly, carrying enough food to feed an army. One could think he was our personal cook when he should really have my back as the second Beater on the field.
“Eat.”
I looked at the sandwich being shoved into my hands. “I’m not hungry.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ve said that every practice for three weeks.”
“And?”
“And you’re eating the sandwich.”
I opened my mouth to argue. He pushed the sandwich against my face anyways.
“Eat.”
I took a bite and Calloway nodded with satisfaction before immediately moving on to terrorize someone else.
The fucker still didn’t know I was allergic to nuts, and thank the gods above he hadn’t put any into his vile creation this time. I had to fake diarrhea the last time he force-fed me. Didn’t want to hurt the asshole’s feelings.
Lupin Engel was still half asleep in the corner. His broom rested across his knees while his eyes remained closed.
“Is he sleeping?” Bellandi asked.
“Probably,” Kerr answered.
“We start in ten minutes.”
“Then he’s power napping.”
Engel raised one thumb without opening his eyes. Our Seeker was fucking nuts.
Moonlace clapped her hands once, and everyone immediately shut the fuck up. Our captain barely reached most of our chests, but somehow managed to be more terrifying than facing Scribner after returning a book a day late. I called that the Althea Effect.
“If you’re done acting like idiots,” she said.
Bellandi raised a hand. Althea shot him down with a single look. Hot.
“We’ve practiced for this match all month. Falkner. Bellandi. Keep the Quaffle moving. Don’t let Slytherin pin you against the hoops.” The two Chasers nodded.
“Kerr.” His eyes lifted. “Try not to kill anyone.”
“No promises.”
“Wonderful.” Her voice suggested it was, in fact, the exact opposite of wonderful.
“Calloway. Brooks.” Her commanding voice startled both of us. “Protect Engel.”
“We always do,” Liam said.
Not true. My goal was to launch as many Bludgers at Nott as possible. Both Notts, actually.
“Engel.” He actually opened one eye. “Catch the Snitch.”
The eye closed again. “Working on it.”
I snorted audibly. Working on it in his dreams. If I hadn’t seen him catch a fucking Snitch with half an arm hanging off after taking a Bludger hit from some Gryffindor bloke, I’d have assumed he’d won his position in a lottery. The bastard was absurdly good. Which somehow made the whole sleeping thing even more annoying. The fucker looked half-dead in a patch of sunlight all day, only to suddenly wake up and bring you a bird twice his size. Hopefully, he’d bring us a small golden bird today.
Normally, I’d have bet my entire savings pouch on Lupin catching the Snitch before the opposing Seeker even knew it was there.
But would he be better than Felix?
Silas had benched him until now. Whether it was because he didn’t trust his little brother not to show off and lose them the match, or because he was secretly holding back a weapon, I wasn’t entirely sure.
Based on previous antics between the two of us though, I was willing to bet it was the latter.
If Silas chose to unleash the pup on the field today, we were in for a hell of a ride.
We flew together from time to time, whether it was to blow off steam after a particularly demanding Potions class with Sharp or because we needed a Butterbeer from Hogsmeade on a Friday night.
Half the time, he looked less like he was flying and more like he was falling in exactly the right direction.
The first time I’d seen him pull out of a dive, I was fairly certain he’d die.
The second time, I was fairly certain he was showing off for the purple-eyed witch watching our late-night training session.
The third time, I’d realized he was just insane.
Unfortunately, insanity worked surprisingly well in Quidditch.
A towel hit me square in the face. I pulled it off and found myself staring into Althea’s cerulean eyes.
“Focus, Brooks.”
“I am focused.”
“Your hair’s purple. You’re clearly not.”
Right. Grey was for focus. Purple was for… whatever.
Luca nearly fell off the bench laughing. Unfortunately for him, Althea’s attention immediately shifted.
“You.” He straightened so fast I thought he’d pulled a muscle.
“If you miss an open goal again, I’m making you run laps until those arms are too tired for all your dramatic gesturing.”
His expression turned horrified. “You wouldn’t.”
“I absolutely would.”
“That’s cruel. I’ve already been doing extra training sessions.”
“That’s Quidditch.”
Calloway patted his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You’ve only missed six this week.”
Bellandi looked genuinely betrayed.
The locker room erupted into laughter.
Even Kerr smirked. Just a little.
Falkner shook his head, though I caught the corner of his mouth twitching as he tightened his gloves one last time.
For all her threats and thrown footwear, Althea was smiling too. Tiny. Barely noticeable. But it was there. She believed we’d win.
Not because she thought Slytherin was weak. Not because she was delusional. Because she believed in us.
In Luca, who couldn’t stop talking. In Liam, who mothered half the bloody team. In Soren, who flew like a man possessed whenever a Quaffle was involved. In Orpheus, who looked like he wanted to start a fistfight before every match but somehow always kept his head in the game. In Lupin, who was probably asleep again.
And, somehow, in me.
Looking around the room, I realized I did too.
I wouldn’t call them friends. That sounded far too sentimental. But if someone else called them my friends, I probably wouldn’t argue. Most of the time, the fuckers were pretty decent company.
Then Althea opened the door. The roar of the crowd crashed into the room as her gaze swept over each one us one last time.
“Let’s try not to embarrass ourselves.”
Coming from our captain, that was practically a heartfelt speech.
And useless.
The game went to shit remarkably fast.
Not immediately. For the first few minutes I was still foolish enough to believe we stood a chance, foolish enough to think that maybe today would be the day Slytherin got knocked off their throne, but that illusion lasted exactly until Silas Nott sent a Bludger at my head hard enough to make me see my ancestors.
From that point onward, the match became deeply personal.
Which was unfortunate for the rest of my team because I spent the next hour returning the favor with religious devotion.
I vaguely remember Althea shouting strategies at us from somewhere across the pitch. I vaguely remember Bellandi scoring at least once. Maybe twice. Honestly, I couldn’t tell.
My entire world had narrowed down to one objective: Make Silas Nott miserable. The bastard seemed to share that goal.
We spent so much time trying to murder each other with Bludgers that I’m fairly certain we forgot there was an actual Quidditch match happening around us.
Every time I sent one his way, he knocked it back.
Every time he sent one mine, I returned the gesture.
At one point we nearly collided midair while both trying to redirect the same Bludger and exchanged insults that would’ve earned us detention if any professor had been close enough to hear them.
Much to my dismay, Silas was annoyingly good. To make matters worse, so was the rest of his team.
Whenever I managed to tear my attention away from my ongoing blood feud, I caught glimpses of the disaster unfolding around us.
Calloway was having the worst day of his life trying to keep Sebastian Sallow occupied. Every time he successfully drove away one Bludger, Sallow somehow had another one flying toward our Chasers before Liam could even catch his breath.
Falkner, meanwhile, was performing miracles.
The bastard flew through defenders as if they were little more than inconvenient weather, sending Quaffle after Quaffle toward the hoops with a precision that should’ve earned him a personal apology from every single one of us.
Unfortunately for Soren, Slytherin’s Keeper was an absolute menace.
I watched shot after shot get denied by fingertips, broom handles, knees, elbows and, at one particularly insulting moment, what appeared to be divine intervention.
Arthur Montgomery couldn’t possibly have been that good.The fact that he clearly was only made it worse.
Kerr looked one missed goal away from committing an actual crime, Bellandi‘s grin had long since disappeared, and somewhere behind us Althea was probably reconsidering every life choice that had led her to captain this team.
Rei was watching.
There she was, seated between Larissa Shelby and Ominis Gaunt, seemingly narrating the game to both of them with equal excitement, her amethyst eyes sparkling in the late afternoon sun whenever something on the pitch caught her attention.
Or someone.
She wasn’t wearing yellow.
But at least she wasn’t wearing green either.
True to herself, she’d refused to wear anything green outside the classroom, so she’d charmed her clothes purple once again. The color caught every stray ray of sunlight, making her stand out even amongst a sea of silver and emerald.
Even seated in the Slytherin bleachers, obviously there to cheer for Felix, she still looked entirely, stubbornly like herself.
A small victory. Pathetic that I’d count it as one, but I’d take what I could get.
A flash of yellow caught my eye just in time to see a Bludger slam into Calloway‘s ribs with enough force to send him clean off his broom.
Liam folded instantly, disappearing into open air while the Hufflepuff stands erupted in horrified shouting. Madam Kogawa‘s whistle rang across the pitch, but before I could spare the situation another thought, a Bludger screamed past my ear.
Fuckass Nott.
I jerked my broom sideways, narrowly avoiding the shot, and whatever concern I’d had for Calloway was immediately replaced by the considerably more urgent problem of Silas Nott trying to cave my skull in.
Then there was Felix.
Silas hadn’t unleashed a Seeker. He’d unleashed a golden retriever with absolutely no regard for his own safety.
Felix dove after the Snitch with the enthusiasm of a man chasing a thrown stick, throwing himself into turns that should have snapped his broom in half and pulling out of dives so late that half the audience screamed before he casually recovered and kept going.
He shot past me with that stupid, wide puppy grin of his.
“TRY ME, GRANDAD!”
Fucker.
Grey bled through my hair, the color of focus. I was very focused right now. Not distracted in the slightest by Rei. Or him.
Not by the way his laugh carried over the pitch even with the crowd roaring around us. Not by the sunlight catching on the edges of his honey brown hair.
I was about to send a Bludger straight into his sinfully carved mouth when his fuckass brother blocked it again and scored in the same movement.
Of course he did.
Slytherin was on fire. Not literally, sadly. Also not like my hair, where angry red had already started creeping through the tips. But they were absolutely beating our asses.
We were about to lose.
Even Engels, with all his catlike grace, couldn’t keep up with Felix today. Not with his brother feeding him perfect opportunities. Not with half the school screaming his name from the stands.
Especially not today, when his girl was watching.
His girl.
Apparently, he and Rei now were a thing. At least, that’s what everyone kept saying.
We were so far behind now that even the Snitch couldn’t save us. A victory on the scoreboard was gone.
A victory in the war Felix and I had been fighting ever since we’d both crashed into the same purple-eyed witch in the library?
That one was still up for grabs.
I shot toward the Slytherin stands before the match had even properly settled, ignoring the eruption of cheers around me.
“Nott! Nott! Nott!”
Of course the bastard had caught the Snitch.
Fine.
I’d catch his girl instead.
I landed in front of Reika and forced my hair purple. Her favorite color.
“A little cheering up for the loser?” I asked.
Her smile appeared instantly. Gods, that smile.
“Oh, don’t feel bad. You played great.”
“Not as great as you look today.”
The blush that spread across her cheeks did ridiculous things to my stomach.
Unfortunately, I knew that grin on Larissa Shelby’s face. Knew the arch of Ominis Gaunt’s eyebrow. Felix was already on his way over.
I leaned in just a little closer…
Then he pulled up beside us, balancing lazily on his broom with the Snitch dangling from one hand. His robes were a mess. His hair was worse. There was a scratch on his cheek he probably hadn’t even noticed.
My eyes caught on it anyway.
“You could’ve just said hello,” I said. “No need for the theatrics.”
“I am saying hello,” he answered, not even sparing me a glance.
Oh, he was absolutely getting punched later.
Rei’s blush deepened. Her eyes flicked to him. Then back to me. For a brief second, I caught something that looked suspiciously like apology there. Then she looked back at Felix.
Always back at Felix.
“You know, you could’ve just asked for my attention,” she said to him when I am literally standing right here asking.
“I did,” Felix said, lifting the Snitch. “Loudly.”
You did not, shithead.
“Asking someone usually involves a question.”
Smart girl.
“Rules? From you? At a time like this?”
Yes. Keep talking. Keep digging your own grave.
“Felix.”
The warning in her voice should’ve worried him. Instead, it made him grin.
“Right. Question. Can I kiss you, or do I have to keep dangling here until gravity finally makes me clever?”
Reika laughed. The kind of laugh people only gave someone they already belonged to.
I didn’t stay to watch what happened next and I ignored the part of me that wasn’t sure which one of them I couldn’t bear to look at.
The walk back to my teammates was miserable.
Getting your ass handed to you in front of the entire school was one thing. Getting your ass handed to you while your best friend caught the Snitch, got the girl, and somehow managed to look annoyingly handsome while doing both was quite another. The lecture we were about to get from our captain suddenly seemed like the least of my problems.
The locker room was unusually quiet when I stepped inside.
Kerr sat on a bench, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor with such murderous intensity that I briefly wondered whether the Daily Prophet would report a sudden decline in the local poacher population tomorrow. ‚Blowing off some steam‘, as he’d call it.
Across from him, Falkner was stripping off his gloves with precise, deliberate movements. Calm. Far too calm. Only his eyes betrayed him, sharp and stormy as they stared at nothing in particular. He lasted another ten seconds. Then he stood so abruptly that the bench scraped against the floor and stormed out of the locker room without a single word. Nobody stopped him. Nobody was stupid enough to.
Bellandi opened his mouth. Closed it again. A rare occurrence.
“Right,” he announced then. “On the bright side, at least nobody died.”
“Yet,” Kerr added.
Bellandi‘s smile widened. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“Where’s Calloway?” I asked, finally noticing the absence of our second Beater.
“He got taken to the infirmary.” Althea entered last.
The room immediately straightened. Even after a loss. Especially after a loss.
“Because you were too distracted to watch his back,” she shot, ice-fire eyes burning into mine.
“That’s not fair.”
“No?” She stepped closer. “You spent half the match watching the Slytherin stands or chasing their Seeker.”
“I was doing my job.”
“You were obsessing over Nott.”
“He was a threat.”
“So was the Bludger that sent Calloway to the infirmary.” That one landed.
“Everyone out,” she then proclaimed, and not even Jobberknolls could’ve moved faster than my teammates.
Well, except for Engel, who already looked like he was waking up from an inconvenient nap rather than losing the fuckass match of the year.
“Not you, Brooks.”
I was in trouble.
The door clicked shut behind the others.
“You weren’t watching your team.”
I was in big trouble.
“I wasn’t distracted.”
Althea let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Your hair was purple before kickoff.”
Right. That.
“You spent half the match staring at the stands.”
“I was watching the game.”
“You were watching people in the game.”
“I was not.”
“Calloway ended up in the infirmary.”
I didn’t have an answer to that because I already felt fucking awful about it.
Because she was right. It was my fault.
My fucking fault that I’d been distracted by purple eyes in the bleachers while searching the pitch for green ones weaving around me.
But I wasn’t about to admit that.
Because acknowledging that she was right would mean acknowledging why she’d been right in the first place, and I wasn’t touching that particular problem with a ten-foot broomstick.
“Want to see what a real distraction looks like?” I asked. Deflection. My oldest and most reliable strategy.
“Try me.” Somehow, it worked.
That was all the invitation I needed.
I closed the distance between us, caught her by the waist, and kissed her before either of us could say something we’d regret.
The moment my brain caught up with what I was doing, I realized I was completely and utterly fucked.
For one, I was currently making out with our captain in a locker room where anyone could walk in, and Hogwarts gossip spread faster than dragon pox.
For another, as soon as my eyes closed, my brain insisted on supplying the wrong faces.
Throwing all four of my children in the ring so play with them at your hearts content 🤭 I’m so curious to see how they would get along with everyone’s babies, romantic or not hehe! kiss kiss fall in love
Template by @barnabyjr 🩷 Ty for creating such a fun trend!!
STOPPPP THIS IS AMAZING!! AND THE TEXTS!!! Why are they SO accurate 😆
Jarleria is the couple everyone would get annoyed with so quick because they’re way too happy. Praying for Ferris because Archie just found his new favorite person and will tease him 25/7. Nilyves would be the scariest and win the Halloween couple costume contest every year. Tiger couple will 100% be sharing hair tips in the middle of a match.
Last reblog I PROMISEII! I just had so much fun with these that I did a lot more 😗
I apologize in advance if I mischaracterized anyone's OC! Please let me know and I'll fix it!!
With @cheonchi’s kiddos! Every one of your OCs are SO gorgeous 🥺🥺I had the hardest time picking who would go with who because I wanted to do every combination
Featuring @colettening’s Liya <3 you know I had to make an ode to Hirokiya and Niya hehehehe enemies to lovers? Jkjk
With the LOML Maeve 🩷 ( @sage-pages ) I literally love her so much UGH!!! I think Val and Maeve would bully Hiroki 1000% (maybe accidentally hahhaa)
Borrowing your boy @stein0806! Soren is such a cutie pie, Val would fall head over heels for him 🤭
Liezel and Inara are SO GORGEOUS and i had to include them as well OFC @pearlevie
Next up are your beautiful babies @syrooo I Val got greedy with your boys hehehe
I had so much fun with these siblings!! @alliezarin
And of course, I had to make a few more doodles of some other cursed perfectly normal ships!!
@slytherinsomniari These pairs are absolutely ADORABLE!!
@lyra-prag I love these pairs to death hehehe Lyra can and will fix Archie I believe it
All my recent comms that are not Salem (I swear I try to work on his post, but I keep getting distracted, I'm a bad mother).
Selene
By kihaze and by rosesthorne
Creepy chibis
@cheonchi's Hen and @sadlynotanashryver's Reika
Headshots
@cheonchi's Vega and Lyra, @colettening's Liya and my Salem (I lied, sorry, the boy is sneaky). All by anoneki.
And, of course, queen Nova by the amazing, fantastic @snowfredelarme (guys if you are able to comm them, please do, mindblowing quality for the price and I am still not over how beautiful it looks).
Marlowe (Low) Brooks lore: apparently I created a Hufflepuff beater with separation anxiety, a greenhouse addiction, anger management issues and the emotional self-awareness of a teaspoon.
Marlowe is a Muggleborn Metamorphmagus. The problem with being a Metamorphmagus is that it’s pretty hard to hide when your hair starts changing colors every time you throw a tantrum. Which meant his parents knew very early on that there was something different about him.
After kindergarten, it was decided that he’d move from Germany to London to live with his aunt, who was already part of the wizarding world and could help him navigate all the weird magical nonsense. He never blamed his parents for it. still writes them constantly and visits whenever he can.
His aunt owns a magical plant shop and is basically the reason he knows anything useful. She taught him about magical plants, potions, creatures, cooking, and generally how not to accidentally die.
Marlowe absolutely adores her.
Which is why he becomes unbearable whenever she starts dating someone new. Every boyfriend gets investigated. Every boyfriend is suspicious. Every boyfriend is probably hiding something - no evidence required. He just hates the idea of some random bloke showing up and acting like he belongs in their lives.
Growing up in the shop means Marlowe is weirdly good at anything involving plants. He can identify most magical herbs by smell alone, knows exactly how much sunlight a plant needs, and talks to them when nobody is around. He denies this.
He’s also naturally talented at Potions because, according to him it’s just cooking but people pretend it’s harder. This statement has started at least three arguments with top students.
Care of Magical Creatures is another subject he’s annoyingly good at because animals seem to like him. Probably because they can tell he’s genuine. Loud, rude, impulsive, foul-mouthed but genuine.
His grades would actually be excellent if he could go a single week without getting into a fight.
Unfortunately, Marlowe suffers from a chronic condition called ‘seeing something unfair and immediately making it his problem.’
He rarely starts fights for himself.
Bully a younger student? Fight.
Insult his aunt? Fight.
Mess with one of his friends? Fight.
Make someone he cares about cry? Congratulations on your upcoming funeral.
He’s the type of person who gets detention for punching someone and then argues with the professor because he’d do it again.
But his biggest flaw isn’t his temper.
It’s denial.
Marlowe can identify fifty different magical plants. He can brew advanced potions. He can read Quidditch formations at a glance.
He can absolutely not identify his own feelings.
The entire school will know he has a crush before he does. His hair will literally turn pink.
He will still deny it.
He is, unfortunately, an idiot.
A lovable idiot. But an idiot nonetheless.
Also somewhere under his bed is a shoebox full of old letters from his parents, childhood drawings, Quidditch tickets, and little keepsakes he’s collected over the years.
If anyone finds it, he’ll throw himself into the Black Lake before admitting how sentimental he actually is.
Despite being a Metamorphmagus, Marlowe barely uses his abilities.
Most people assume he’d love them. He doesn’t.
His hair changing colors with his emotions is one thing. He can’t control that. It’s as natural as breathing.
But actively changing himself? That makes his skin crawl.
No matter what happens, no matter how bright or ridiculous the color of his hair becomes, the roots remain dark. Black. The same color as his parents’ hair. The same color they’ve always been. The same color he started with. Most people never think twice about it.
But Marlowe has a deep fear that if he changed too much, if he leaned too heavily into an ability that lets him become anything, eventually he might lose himself.
So he keeps the changes small. Just his hair because he can‘t help it anyways.
Very funny that his Patronus turned out to be a chameleon. A shape-shifter with a shape-shifting Patronus. How fitting.
Took Marlowe years to understand that while a chameleon constantly changes it never stops being a chameleon.
hey have you guys ever played this game called hogwarts legacy? this is my oc savina with her bf bast 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 theyre soooo perfect together. he’s obsessed with her because she’s a sweet little angel and he needs to make sure he always keeps her safe & sound because she’s just soooooooo tiny and precious to him. she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on!!!!!!!!!!she can’t do anything wrong ever. everyone wants to be her or be with her, but she only has eyes for him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
titsay
izzy806
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