Discover Top Posts Tagged with #pbwandraising

the ones that love us never really leave us.

#pbwandraising #me: wants to list characters qualities #jkr: haha but fuck lavender brown and vincent crabbe tho???#sighs #i wanted to stick to canon bc i dont want to godmod dead charries YA FEEL #so here's?? canon info (besides the 'lavender wasn't silly' bc that is just a F U to jkr)#also me: found out how to do the snow thing and does it on every graphic #( graphic. )#( mine. )#( lavender. )#( vincent. )#( fred. )#( colin. )#also i didnt do the adults bc then i would legit ?? never stop crying #i need to stop tag talking to myself

Seamus rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he wandered through the wand raising ceremony, trying to find someone he knew so that he could stand by them awkwardly, instead of standing alone awkwardly. Either way, he knew, awkwardness would be unavoidable.

Initially, he wasn’t sure that the ceremony was all that good of an idea. It was just... it’d been months. All summer, really. And everything was finally getting back to normal. Not that he wanted to forget everything that had happened... but he had hoped that people would move on from their grief. Dragging all that pain and sorrow back into the light again - Seamus wasn’t sure what good that was going to do anyone, other than remind them of everything they’d lost.

MASH - whatever that stood for, he could never remember - might be useful to some students, sure. But mostly, he felt like the whole situation was just prolonging the tragedy of last year. He felt guilty, thinking that, but he couldn’t help it. The sobbing, the tearful reminiscences... it was too much like the aftermath of the battle, when bodies had littered the floor. The bodies were gone, but their ghosts had returned, in a sense, to remind the whole school of the emotional damage it had sustained.

At the same time, although the ceremony was optional, he couldn’t not come, just for one reason: one of the deceased students being honored was Lavender Brown. And as much as he didn’t want to think about her gruesome end, it felt wrong to turn a blind eye to the gathering, especially when he’d known her so well.

“Lavender always did love to be the center of attention,” Seamus said aloud, the hint of a smile on his face despite the circumstances.

#pbwandraising #postbellumstarter #open

Through the Woods We Ran || Rolf & Luna

There was just enough daylight to see where he was going as he entered the forest.

Today seemed like as good a day as any to do the one thing he’d been purposely putting off--going to visit the Thestrals. They were undoubtedly overwhelmed and confused by all of the sudden attention they were receiving this year, a larger portion of the student body able to see them than ever before. Rolf hadn’t wanted to frighten them even more despite the fact that he was at least fairly familiar to them, and so he’d left them well enough alone. Today, though, was different--today was the day of the wand raising ceremony, and it seemed only fitting that he visit the creatures first.

On his way he’d dropped by Hagrid’s hut to fill his bag with raw meat, happy to do the feeding this morning. Sure, they could hunt for themselves, but feeding them once in a while never hurt, either.

While most people found the Thestrals to be creepy at best, Rolf found the skeletal black horses to be quite gentle and friendly, if handled properly. Their association with death didn’t help matters, and he understood why they were so misunderstood, but he definitely didn’t appreciate it. If people did any research at all or even spent a little bit of time with the Thestrals, he was sure that they’d agree that the creatures were harmless and even rather nice.

Rolf reached the clearing where the Thestrals were gathered, keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible on the forest floor. They were still probably skittish from their experience on the first day of school, and he didn’t want to scare them away. He approached slowly, taking his time and remaining hyper-vigilant of every movement his body made. Because he’d grown up around so many different types of creatures, Rolf had learned to be aware of his body and the way that he moved so not to scare--or worse, provoke--anything.

Once he was close enough, Rolf reached into his bag for a piece of meat, throwing it hard toward the herd. It landed in the middle of them all and they all went for it, tearing at the meat hungrily, and he smiled. Most people probably would have found the sight revolting, but he was fascinated by the way that they moved, the way they ate, everything about them. This was his happy place.

@ofwaveringwanders

#convo #luna #postbellumstarter #pbwandraising #closed #through the woods we ran

Parvati was unsure how to feel.

On one hand, every part of her wished to run. Reminders of her dead best friend were all around her and she could her grief weigh heavy on her chest. Grief, that dark creature that had settled in her being, was growling and banging against her lungs and ribcage. She wasn’t sure if she could take it; this confrontation with her loss.

On another hand, she wished to stay. She owed this to Lavender, who would have loved an event in honour of her — EVEN if it was because she was dead. Parvati would betray the memory of Lav if she stayed in her dorm or a corner of the castle, hiding from what was so inescapably real.

She stood there, pink scrunchie – that had once been Lavender’s – in her hair, just staring at everyone. Parvati was far too aware that she was not the only one grieving, and she was unable to not feel guilty for not reaching out to those around her. She could only stand there, though, afraid that if she opened her mouth she would let out a wail or a cry.

Lavender was dead. Lavender was GONE, and Parvati felt lost and alone. Lav had been her second half, the hand to hold when the world was shaking and the person who understood; who understood her temper and her love for things other thought silly and girly and stupid. She was gone and Parvati could not help but wonder what-if, what if she had been there to stand by her?

She swallowed. Thickly. Tears slipped over her cheeks, silently but not invisibly, and she tried not to think of the stillness of Lavender’s body when she had first seen it, tried not to think of the funeral and all the things that happened after. The grief in Lavender's parents' eyes, the way she never knew what to say when she was usually chatty and lively.

She forced herself to wipe her tears and turn to someone, to distract herself from her own mind. Otherwise she’d spiral. Spiral, spiral, spiral until she was sobbing in front of more than half of the school. In a hoarse, little voice she remarked, “This was a great idea, huh?”

#postbellumstarter #posting this during work eeep!#i will get to other replies and such once done/maybe later during work bc im a bad employee #also ??? sad. this made me sad.#grief tw #loss tw #pbwandraising #( wand raising. )

You can’t live forever, you can’t live forever | Open

Some people aren’t supposed to live forever and some aren’t supposed to live at all - Laura learned it the hard way, with the war. Adults and teenagers died while fighting, children saw their parents being murdered just after having their lives ended and some babies never even had the chance to grow. But no other death affected Laura like Andrew’s did.

They were friends - close friends, childhood friends, the type Laura would trust her life and not even think about it. They met through a group - the YAdventurers -, but he meant much more. He knew all her secrets and Laura knew his - like how Andrew’s mother was a squib and his father cheated on her with a witch. She knew all the details about his past and she protected him like a brother even though Andrew as one year older, and in return he would always let her eat for free at his father's shop. He was one of the few who didn't rely on age to fight. He left no letter, not a single note, and his body was easily found - it seemed like he lasted no more than twenty minutes.

Today, she was mourning over him. Mourning over those she had met and those she hadn't. She knew, after all, how important it was to keep them alive in memory, to remember them, because they sacrificed their lives so everyone could be here now, so everybody could be alive enough to mourn. Today was the only day she wanted to remember, no matter if she couldn't stop crying or if nightmares would follow her at night - all she wanted was to bring a little piece to her heart, just like Andrew must have felt when he realized the terror might come to an end.

So she hid her minimized guitar, picked up her wand and left the Common Room, walking in a slow pace, knowing the event would take place in a few minutes - maybe an hour or so. She wanted to be there, and she would.

#open #postbellumstarter #pbwandraising #very very open so (?)

He’d tip-toed outside early in the morning before anyone else was awake.

The sky was grey as the sun rose, and Rolf couldn’t help but notice how fitting that was. Today was the day of the wand raising ceremony, the one to honor the dead--those who had sacrificed themselves in battle, very much in the way that he hadn’t. Rolf had fled before the battle began--not due to his age, but because he needed to help his grandfather care for the creatures that he’d evacuated from the castle. Their safety had been his top priority, as he’d been confident that his classmates and peers and friends would be able to protect each other.

Well, it so happened that two of them hadn’t been so lucky.

Rolf had met Lavender a time or two, but it was Colin that he’d known better due to being classmates with his younger brother, Dennis. The prospect of someone their age dying had terrified him, and when he’d heard that it was two of his classmates that had died in the battle, Rolf had cried. He didn’t know whether he was mourning or afraid or guilty or some mix of it all, but he’d broken down and cried in a way that he hadn’t in years, not even when his own mother passed away in front of his eyes.

Rolf hadn’t even been sure that he would come to the ceremony.

It was for the whole school, yes, but it felt like it was so much more for the people who had been close to those that had died, their closest friends and their families and their professors, and he almost felt like he was intruding when he came back from his morning walk to the forest to see the Thestrals. Now had seemed like as good a time as any, and their presence had actually calmed him a little. Now, though, as he was approaching the courtyard, his nerves were kicking in. Rolf wasn’t typically an anxious person, but when he felt like he was out of place he got uncomfortable fast.

Sticking to the outside edges of the courtyard, Rolf found a wall to lean against in a less-populated part of the space, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. The last thing he wanted to be was an imposition, but something about what this gathering stood for had drawn him here, anyway. He just didn’t want to take any of the attention away from the people who were mourning the loss of their close friends.

#convo #open #pbwandraising #postbellumstarter #romilda

There was never any question that Neville would attend the wand raising, optional or not.

Colin and Lavender had been two housemates that he’d known well enough to feel it, deep in his chest, when he’d heard that they’d died. It wasn’t fair. They were young--too young to die in a war, in a battle that they shouldn’t have had to fight in the first place. He still remembered hearing the news as if it had just happened, his thoughts racing. It could have just as easily been any one of them. It could have been him, or Harry or Hermione or Ginny or Luna just as easily. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

They weren’t the only two who had died, of course. Too many people were lost in the war, not just two Hogwarts students, but those were the two that hit the closest to home. Of course, Fred and Tonks and Remus--those deaths had hurt, too, just as deeply as the others. It was the fact that Lavender and Colin were the same age as Neville--Colin was actually younger. That was what had his stomach in knots.

That was why there wasn’t a question in his mind about the wand raising. It was a ceremony to commemorate the dead, to honor their sacrifices and their bravery. It was also a time for the rest of them to come together, to knit tight and try to fill the gaping holes that the deaths of their classmates left. He was actually grateful for Romilda’s group, despite his skepticism of her in general. All he knew about her, really, was that she was the lovestruck girl who’d tried to slip Harry a love potion in their sixth year and had ended up getting Ron poisoned instead.

Neville was letting go of old judgments this year, he’d decided. If he could forgive the Slytherins, let go of prejudice and meaningless (or, in some cases, meaningful) grudges, then he could certainly give Romilda the benefit of the doubt. After all, she seemed committed to this whole MASH thing, and he was interested to see what the ceremony would have to offer.

He was in the courtyard early, while things were still being set up, a grey sky above him. Neville shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, looking up, trying not to dwell too much on why they were gathering today. There would be enough time for that later--there was no point in getting too lost in his own head before the ceremony even began.