#hogwarts!verse

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

Ambush hug from Lilith to bella ^^ @givenchildunderthemountain

@givenchildunderthemountain

Belle froze for barely an instant, startled by the arms suddenly around her and the weight of another person against her back, then immediately doubled over to flip the other over her back and onto the floor at her feet. She had her wand out in another instant, aimed at the woman’s heart. “Qui diable êtes-vous, et ce qui la baise vous pensez que vous êtes en train de faire?” she snarled.

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

🔫 {parisofmychildhood Belle or Beau, it's up to you~~}

Send “🔫” for my muse to step in the way to prevent your muse from getting shot, taking the bullet for them.

@parisofmychildhood

There was a man with a gun on Hogwarts grounds. It didn’t make any sense. How had he gotten there? The school was protected with multiple spells to repel muggles, and muggle technology didn’t work within the grounds. So where had the man come from, and what was he doing there?

Belle and Rachelle had mostly the same schedule, and they were in their shared Charms class when the strange man had interrupted, bursting in and taking everybody by surprise, including Professor Flitwick, who he’d somehow managed to overcome and was now lying unconscious on the classroom floor with a heavily bleeding cut on his head from being hit with the butt of the stranger’s gun.

The class were all sixth-years, but even with the knowledge of six years at Hogwarts, none of them knew how to react to this, and they were scared stiff. The man seemed deranged, swinging the weapon around wildly and ranting about things that made absolutely no sense. And when the gun stopped waving and settled on a target, Belle’s heart stopped. No. No no no no. Belle couldn’t lose her twin. She couldn’t. And she couldn’t risk assuming the gun wouldn’t work and being wrong.

There was a bang, and Belle dove across the aisle without a thought for her own safety. Pain blossomed across her side even as she tackled Rachelle out of the way. Someone screamed. It might have been her. She didn’t know. Couldn’t think past the agony that robbed her of breath.

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

Niffler Nonsense

@ofthelune

Beau wasn’t exactly looking for strange occurrences that morning. Not after having just finished with a rather exhausting case of accidental magic use. Boy, had that been a tough one to fix up. All he wanted was to just get a muffin from the bakery and apparate home to relax with his food, a cup of tea, and a good book. But it looked like he wasn’t going to get that very soon. Not unless the creature in his grip returned his wallet. It looked like one of those odd muggle creatures--a platypus--but it wasn’t. The sleek black creature had a penchant for nabbing anything shiny it could get its hands on, which wasn’t something platypuses did. A Niffler. Merlin’s beard. What was a Niffler doing here? He huffed and leaned back against the wall of the alley where he’d ducked when he’d caught the little thief.

“Come on now, beastie. Give me back my wallet. I’ll even let you keep a couple galleons if you do.”

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

Random stupid idea that just popped into my head

((Hogwarts!verse))

((Quotes taken from Guardians of the Galaxy 2))

*Belle and Adam at Hogwarts during a Quidditch match*

*someone in the crowd hexes Adam's broom so he can't control it*

*gets knocked entirely off the broom by a bludger*

*Belle flies to catch him, but he's already cast a charm to float to the ground, holding his wand above his head*

Belle, on her broom, floating down beside him: *snickers*

Adam: What?

Belle: You look like Mary Poppins

Adam: He cool?

Belle: *not bothering to correct the pronoun usage* Hell yeah, he's cool!

Adam: I'm Mary Poppins, y'all!

Me: *trying my hardest not to bust out laughing 'cause the walls are paper thin in my house and my parents are in the next room*

[mostpeculiarmademoiselleetmsieur]

@earthbending-mademan

Continued from here

Belle glanced over the edge of the landing and shuddered. That could have been bad. It was a good thing she’d acted so quickly. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I had my wand within reach.”

[riffraffstreetratidontbuythat]

Lessons in Truancy

@imthehitch

“R-riddi--”

Alanna could hear her breath practically whistling in her lungs as she faced down the boggart currently wearing the shape of the thing she feared most. Her wand shook in her trembling hand. Why did the professor have to call on her to face it today? Why couldn’t she have just watched the others?

“Riddikulus!”

CRACK!

A harmless cockroach skittered away, back into the closet it had come from, to wait for the next student whose turn it would be to attempt the charm.

They were all staring at her.

Everyone in the classroom was staring at her.

They’d all heard the rumours, their parents had all read about her in the Daily Prophet--and now they all knew her worst fear. They’d seen what the boggart had turned into.

She had to get out of there.

She couldn’t stand the expressions of pity and disgust on their faces.

She ran from the classroom, her pulse pounding in her ears. Nearly flew down the corridor to the girls’ bathroom and locked herself in one of the stalls.

She felt sick. Her heart was racing, beating so hard it felt like it’d break through her ribs. Spots danced in front of her eyes, and--she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe.

“Oh no--nononononono--not now--not now, please not now--I can’t--"

How much time she lost--how long she knelt in that stall, trying so hard to not be overcome and pass out--she didn’t know, but no one came looking for her. Of course no one came looking for her. Why would they? She was pathetic. Worthless but for the stories about her that fueled the rumour mill.

She barely had the energy to finally pick herself up and leave the stall, but she did--and stopped in her tracks.

She wasn’t alone.

Alanna had been so wrapped up in her own humiliation and panic and need to be alone that she’d completely ignored the other girl in the bathroom. She hadn’t even registered her presence.

And the girl--a Slytherin with a wild mane of ginger curls who Alanna really only knew by reputation--had just witnessed everything.

“Oh, bloody hell.”

[riffraffstreetratidontbuythat]

I was just thinking about Alanna’s Hogwarts!verse for no reason in particular, and I realized: Alanna could just as easily have been a Slytherin as a Gryffindor. Yes, she has a Gryffindor’s lionhearted (or in her case, leopard-hearted) bravery, and would die to protect those she cares for, but she also has the aspects so well-known of Slytherin: she’s crafty and ambitious, willing to do absolutely anything to attain her goals. Plus, she’s a pureblood whose birthparents were rather high-ranking Aurors before Marjanah’s death and Cassim’s disappearance.

She could very easily have been sorted into Slytherin, but she wasn’t.

Why? Because it would have destroyed her.

Alanna was already hated and abused by the family she was placed with after being orphaned. Add in the factor of being placed in the House everyone other than Slytherins are basically conditioned to despise? There you have the perfect recipe for completely destroying a young witch or wizard’s potential or warping it into the potential for pure evil and destruction.

If she’d been placed in Slytherin, Alanna would either have eventually taken her own life or become a dark witch on par with Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort.

I think the Sorting Hat saw what being placed in Slytherin would do to Alanna’s potential to be the person she wanted to be--the person she became during her years at Hogwarts and after her graduation--and made the executive decision to put her in the only other House that would fit her so equally well.

[asphodellic]

where it hurts. For witch au rivals

“Seto? I’m home.” 

Their house is quiet, but the lights are on, so he knows Seto must be around somewhere. But he’s not in the kitchen or the sitting room or his study, which raises red flags in his head. 

The shower is running, and the bathroom door is closed, which could be fine, in theory. There’s nothing inherently worrying about showering. But the clamoring in his head that he calls his ‘Seto sense’ is going off like a bell. He knocks on the door, and there’s no answer, so he pushes his way inside. 

And there’s Seto. Shower running, fully dressed, hunched over the counter, barely breathing. 

“Oh, darling,” Yugi murmurs and steps in, closing the door behind him. He turns the shower off, and that startles Seto into noticing him. 

“You’re home,” he says, looking at him in the mirror. 

“Yes. What’s wrong?” 

Seto just shakes his head, and when he lifts his hands, they’re shaking, too. 

Instinctively, Yugi takes one of them in both of his and holds it tight before kissing the back of it. 

There’s only so much he can do, he knows that. Most of Seto’s hurts aren’t ones he can see. They’re scars that run deep and ache unpredictably. Gozaburo was a bastard, and the spells and things he did to Seto left no physical traces, but plenty of mental ones. All Yugi wants it to help, to ease the pain, and when Seto’s rigid posture relaxes, he figures he’s on the right track. 

“I was going to shower,” Seto murmurs. 

“Come sit with me for a minute, okay?” He kisses Seto’s hand again, and he relaxes a bit more. 

“Okay.” 

They go to the couch, and Seto keeps a hold of Yugi’s hand. He pulls Yugi into his lap and holds onto him. 

Yugi kisses his cheek. 

“Is there anything I can do?’ Yugi murmurs. “Tea? Food?”

“Just this. Just stay with me.” 

“Always.”