So I just finished watching how harry potter should have ended and it got me thinking.
What if you know the story just went on as it did up until the ending till harry and voldemort's final duel where their circling each other and then in the distance we see one of those stone gaurds professer mcgonagall bought to the life and it just runs up and just fukin decapitates the fool
I know this can't happen in canon but still halirious to think of. Also i should probably do a horror promt soon shouldn't I?
Minnie absentmindedly read through the ledger that documents the birth of magical children and she saw Fred and George on April 1st. She made it her mission to demand a hefty pay raise by the time the reincarnations of Gideon and Fabian made it through the doors of Hogwarts.
[Jacob Cromwell had told his sister all about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He’d waxed poetic about the floating candles and enchanted ceilings of the Great Hall -- the never-ending flood of meals cooked by the Hogwarts house elves, who live in the kitchens on the bottom floor -- the way the stars reflect on the Black Lake and sounds of many exotic magical creatures echo from the Forest that surround the beautiful, ancient castle. And yet Jacob’s descriptions could not have prepared Carewyn for just how beautiful it all was in person...nor for the nerves that cropped up in her throat as she walked down the long, long aisle past the four House tables and up to the teachers’ table at the head of the Great Hall.
Waiting for them was a very tall witch with a black pointed hat. Her green eyes were piercing upon them, making all the first-years stand up that bit straighter. Carewyn could tell at once this was a woman to be respected and listened to.]
McGonagall: “Welcome to Hogwarts. Before the Welcoming Feast, we must sort all first-year students into their proper houses as part of the Sorting Ceremony. While you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts.”
I can’t see myself belonging there. Jacob was always much more into knights and stuff -- and he ended up in Ravenclaw! I can’t see the Hat putting me in this woman’s house, if it didn’t even put Jacob there.
Hufflepuff wouldn’t be a bad place to be, but...I don’t know, I feel like I wouldn’t have anything in common with this woman, as nice as she is. She seems...too open, somehow? Just looking at her, I feel like I know her immediately, and...I don’t know, that seems...reckless? Is that the right word? I don’t know... And well, if Hufflepuff’s for the kind...well, how do I know if I’d measure up? It’s not like I’ve ever had any real friends...
[The thought of Ravenclaw house made Carewyn feel ill.]
You know you wouldn’t belong in Ravenclaw. That’s where brilliant people like Mum and Jacob belong. You’ve never been as smart as they are.
I guess Slytherin wouldn’t be a bad place to be either...but would I really be what they want? Would I be cunning and ambitious enough?
[The professor who sat closest to where the Slytherin table was -- presumably their Head of House -- had this air of having very high standards.]
McGonagall: “Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. I hope that all of you will work hard to make whichever house you’re meant for proud.”
[The Deputy Headmistress took out a scroll, which she unfurled so she could read it.]
McGonagall: “Now, when I call your name, you will come forward, sit upon the stool here at the front of the Hall, and I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head, so that it can make its decision.”
[She read aloud the first name from the scroll -- “Ali, Badeea” -- and a very pretty girl wearing a silvery-blue hijab stepped out from the ranks and sat demurely down on the stool. The Hat had barely touched her head before shouting “RAVENCLAW!” -- a pronouncement that brought the entire Ravenclaw table to applause and left Badeea smiling as she took off the Hat and politely thanked McGonagall before skipping off to join her new house table.
The next two Sortings -- “Caplan, Diego” and “Copper, Ben” took a bit more time than Badeea’s had. Ben Copper’s, in particular, took nearly three whole minutes, before the Hat at last cried “GRYFFINDOR!” and the rather flushed and shaky-looking blond boy, looking overwhelmed by the applause from the Gryffindor table, meekly handed the Hat back to McGonagall and ran away from the stool toward his table at full speed.]
[The Great Hall seemed to go noticeably quiet at the name.
Carewyn felt her heart sink. She’d deduced that her name would come up fast, if their names were being called alphabetically, but that didn’t prepare her for just how hard her heart pounded at the front of her chest, when it was actually called.
With a swallow, Carewyn fixed her eyes squarely on the stool, trying not to pay attention to the eyes that had all fallen on her, as she broke apart from the group of first years. She could hear her blood pumping loudly in her ears, like some anxious drum. And accompanied by such conspiratorial whispering, from the house tables...it made her feel like she was trying and failing to ignore Bobbie Matthis and his friends back at the schoolyard playground, “whispering” at the top of their voices about her ugly second-hand dresses and calling her Gingersnap...]
Don’t let them see your fear. Don’t let them know they’re getting to you.
[Bobbie and the other bullies she’d known at school had always loved getting a rise out of her because of how sensitive she was. Maybe if she could just put on a brave face and stay quiet...
Carewyn sat primly on the edge of the stool and McGonagall gently lowered the Hat down onto her head. The Hat’s brim fell around her face, drooping slightly because of how big it was on her -- she noticed several worn patches and rips in it.]
This Hat was Gryffindor’s, wasn’t it? That’s what Mum said...
[Part of Carewyn wanted to cringe, thinking about just how many people must’ve worn this Hat over the years...and without it even being treated properly! There were spells to mend rips and remove stains, weren’t there? So why had this Hat been treated so poorly? Sure, maybe Reparo couldn’t fix normal age and wear and tear, but the Sorting Hat was so important to Hogwarts’ heritage and history. And considering it had a consciousness too...
The thought made Carewyn stiffen.]
Oh no! It probably heard everything I just thought, didn’t it?! I’m so sorry, Hat, I hope I didn’t upset you.
[When the Hat did finally speak, however, it sounded rather intrigued.]
Sorting Hat: “Such kindness you have inside of you, Miss Cromwell -- a vast amount. Such a desire to help others.”
Is that really so weird?
Sorting Hat: “No. It’s the ‘why’ that is. Tell me -- why is it that you chose to stay at home with your mother, rather than help at your school’s Christmas pageant?”
[Carewyn felt like she was suddenly sinking through the floor into an icy cold pool.]
You know about that?
Sorting Hat: “(smugly) There’s nothing hidden in your head the Sorting Hat can’t see.”
That’s really very creepy of you.
[The thought escaped Carewyn before she could stop herself, and she instantly felt guilty. Before she could properly summon up any kind of apology, though, the Sorting Hat cut her off.]
Sorting Hat: “Don’t worry, Carewyn Cromwell -- no apology is needed. And I have no interest in sharing the contents of your mind with anyone...merely helping you find your place. So? Will you answer me? Why did you not help your classmates, when they needed your help?”
[Carewyn felt like the answer was obvious.]
Because Mum needed me. Mum doesn’t go out during the holidays -- she doesn’t like going out much at all. I couldn’t leave her at home alone.
Sorting Hat: “Yet your mother encouraged you to go. She seemed to think you could’ve made some new friends, singing in that pageant..."
Well, I didn’t want to make any friends! I wanted to stay with Mum.
Sorting Hat: “Even if you know you could’ve saved the pageant, if you’d helped?”
[Carewyn’s discomfort of having the Hat in her head and challenging her incessantly was making her impatient.]
You can see into my head, can’t you? I didn’t want to save the pageant! Do I know I could’ve done better? Sure! I know I could’ve -- it should’ve been better. But I didn’t want to help them! I didn’t want their approval, or their friendship, or their praise -- I wanted to stay home with my mum, so she wouldn’t be all alone! I wanted to be there for her! Because unlike all those tossers at school, she loves me the way I am, and she's always appreciated how hard I work! She’s always supported me, and always made me feel like what I do really helps! And after Jacob --
[The memory of Jacob made her heart hurt. Her thoughts were becoming more emotional and frenzied despite her best effort to keep them rational.]
-- after Jacob just -- abandoned us, with no warning, no word...I couldn’t leave Mum alone, not then! Not on Christmas, not anywhere near Christmas! I had to be there for Mum and make sure she was okay! I needed to make sure Mum knew that I wasn’t going anywhere!
[Carewyn had expected silence, or even defensiveness. What she got instead was a rather pleased response.]
Sorting Hat: “And you see -- that’s what’s so interesting.”
[Carewyn blinked again.]
Sorting Hat: “You help not out of pure selflessness -- to please others, to make others happy -- yet you also don’t do it for the sake of praise or recognition. You don’t need to win for the sake of winning. You don’t long for renown or glory. You have no interest in being ‘the best’ in anything -- not if it makes others feel terrible, in the process. Yet you also have such high standards for what’s right and what’s wrong and who you wish to be -- a code of chivalry, in a sense...and yet one that doesn’t answer to anything in the outside world and has no interest in leading or changing the world. You’re not someone who seeks to be well-liked and world-renowned, preferring a very quiet and peaceful existence. You’re not someone who cares for others regardless of who they are, preferring instead to care for those who have earned your caring first. You’re not someone who passionately chases after wisdom and knowledge, the way your brother and mother did before you. You’re not someone who places your own dreams and desires over that of others’, or even over the greater good, if put to it.”
[Carewyn felt like a heavy weight had fallen onto her shoulders.]
Then...I don’t belong anywhere, then. I’m not enough for any of the houses.
[Although Carewyn couldn’t see the Hat’s expression, she still seemed to sense that it was smiling.]
Sorting Hat: “On the contrary. I do believe any of the Founders would have been very pleased, to have you as their student, Miss Cromwell.”
[Carewyn was utterly bewildered.]
But -- but I’m not what any of the houses want! I’m not kind enough for Hufflepuff or smart enough for Ravenclaw or noble enough for Gryffindor or ambitious enough for Slytherin! If I'm not what they’re looking for, well...why would I even want to be there, in the first place? Even if everyone else there did change their mind later on...I’d never feel like I belonged there, if I knew I was just Sorted there by default!
Sorting Hat: “(amusedly) You really think it’s labels that determine your placement? Come now, child. It’s not one’s abilities or personality traits alone that I look at -- it is one’s values. Gryffindors are known for courage and a desire for glory -- but that is because that’s what Godric valued. His students value chivalry, and bravery, and being celebrated for their acts of heroism. Hufflepuffs are known for kindness and hard work -- but that is because that’s what Helga valued. Her students value loyalty and justice and creature comforts. Ravenclaws are known for wisdom and academic talent -- but that is because that’s what Rowena valued. Her students value creativity, enlightenment, and reaching new levels of achievement and knowledge than they ever had before. Slytherins are known for being clever and ambitious -- but that is because...”
...that’s...what Salazar valued.
Sorting Hat: “Precisely. And his students likewise value chasing their own dreams for their own sake, rather than for the sake of others. They likewise place more value on those few who have earned their love and loyalty than on the entire world and what it thinks of them. They likewise don’t take their moral code from an outside source and don’t care what rules or expectations they break, so long as it doesn’t go against their own values and beliefs. And they likewise are independent enough to decide that they don’t need to be part of a system in order to do things that are worthwhile.”
[Carewyn’s eyes widened.]
[Once again, Carewyn sensed the Hat was smiling.]
Sorting Hat: “You will be unique among your classmates, Carewyn Cromwell...but I’m confident in saying that you will do great things in --
[That last word was shouted, loud enough for everyone else to hear rather than the more private asides he’d had with Carewyn in her head. There was a smattering of applause -- Carewyn looked around at the tables, her eyes trailing along the three tables filled with students wearing red, blue, and yellow-trimmed hoods, all the way to the Slytherin table on the far end. They were applauding, but there was a noticeable stiffness and discomfort in how many of them exchanged looks.
And yet, in that moment, Carewyn found herself beaming as she gently took off the Hat with both hands and very politely offered back to McGonagall.]
[Her voice was more grounded than before: devoid of any of the insecurity she’d felt before and tried so hard to hide.]
McGonagall: “Yes, Miss Cromwell?”
Carewyn: “I don’t know if it’d work...but the Scouring Charm would probably really help with that stain, on the brim. Don’t reckon anyone would really feel at their best, meeting new people with a stain on their front.”
[McGonagall blinked very slowly at the tiny girl over the Sorting Hat in her hands.]
McGonagall: “(mildly surprised) ...Duly noted.”
[With a smile, Carewyn adjusted her robes, holding them up slightly like she might a long skirt as she descended the stairs so she wouldn’t trip on them. Once she’d gotten to the bottom, she walked over to the Slytherin table with her head held high and settled herself down at the far end, away from any of the wary and suspicious glances shot her way.
But now? Now she barely even noticed them -- for she now felt confident she was where she belonged.
No matter what anyone else said or thought, she was a Slytherin -- and she would be a great witch by doing as much good and being as good of a person as she possibly could -- all on her own terms.]
((OOC: Part two of my “Carewyn’s Beginnings” series! (Consult the “Carewyn’s Beginnings” tag for more such gameplays!) Next part...the start of the Carewyn VS Merula rivalry!))
I watch the sun banish the darkness of the night. The dark indigo gives way to a delicate purple. The stars become silent. Although I have seen it thousands of times, the sight gives me pause. It’s a new beginning. I should feel energised, but all I can think is that the sun cannot banish the darkness inside me. A tear runs down my cheek. It will be alright, I tell myself, as the sky turns the colour of Nymphadora's hair. I let the first rays of the sun warm my face. Someday it will hurt less. It has to.
Her room is illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. It highlights the tear tracks on her face. I sit down and caress her hair. "Mum," she says and snuggles up to me. I know she is worried about her husband. He hasn't been home for weeks. I know she is worried about the life growing inside her. I hold her close and wipe the tears from her face. "It's going to be okay," I say. My hand goes to her belly, which she is already holding. We sit in the darkness and silence and feel her child moving.
Teddy first grabs the wine and then my hand. Giggling, she pulls me up the stairs and a narrow ladder. We crawl through the hatch onto the roof. With a sigh, she settles on the tiles and pulls me down with her. I lean against her. We don't say a word, just drink slowly from the bottle. Away from her family and from our baby, the silence is almost deafening, but it’s welcome. The air is fresh and every breath feels liberating. I look at her as she stares up at the sky. She is breathtakingly beautiful in this light.
“Don’t be a bully,” I tell Narcissa when she tries to set me up with yet another witch. It’s her third attempt. Narcissa chuckles and grabs my hand. It's taken years for us to reconcile, but when I feel her familiar touch, I know it was worth the trouble. “I mean well,” she informs me. I know she does, but I've never liked her meddling. “There is a witch I like,” I retort. Her eyes grow wide and she opens her mouth. I shove a cookie between her lips. “I’ll tell you in due time!” She glares. I grin broadly.
I know I shouldn’t pry but Teddy’s door is open. On my way in, I levitate laundry into the basket and smoothen the sheets. I see a letter, written on Muggle paper, laying on his small desk. I really shouldn’t, but I can’t stop my fingers from reaching out. ‘My love’ are the first two words. I don’t have to read the letter to notice the ‘I miss you’ and the ‘I love you’. I skip to the signature. Victoire. I didn’t know they were a couple, but it fills my heart with joy. It's wonderful to witness young love.
“Why should I learn how to drive? I’m a witch!” Nymphadora protests. I open my mouth, but Teddy is quicker, silences me with a look. “This one,” Teddy says pointing at me, “didn’t want to learn and now she drives everywhere!” I smile and pat her thigh. She’s not wrong. Nymphadora groans. “Fine! But you only get one shot!” Teddy beams and takes a sip of coffee. I look from one grinning face to the other. I know Teddy will teach our daughter well. She’ll teach her with patience, compassion and kindness. The thought makes me love her even more.
Teddy’s hands are in my hair. They move to my cheeks and then to my neck. I feel her lips against mine. A soft sensation, pure and honest. I lift my head and press harder against her mouth. She sets my body aflame. I need her. I want her. I whimper when her fingers find the spot I need her most. I rock against her. She whispers soothing words into my ear as she caresses me. I shudder and sigh when my orgasm rolls through me. I open my eyes with a cry that catches in my throat. I’m alone.
I stare at the firewhiskey while the baby cries. I’m glued to the spot. Frozen by indecision. I want to forget this pain that squeezes my heart. The bottle seems to be mocking me. It would be so easy to just drink and drink until I don’t remember why I opened the booze. It would be so easy to just forget for one evening. I want to let go. Just once. I lift my hand, but ball it into a fist before my skin touches the glass. I shake my head. I can’t do this to him. I love him.
A fat tear rolls down Nymphadora’s cheek. Her chin wobbles. For a moment, she stays perfectly still. Then she starts to cry. Her hair changes colour as rapidly as her sobs wrack her body. “Come here, sweetheart,” I say and sweep her up into my arms. I kiss some of the tears away and reach for my wand to heal her scraped elbow. “No,” she says and puts her tiny palm on my hand, “I want a band-aid like Amy.” I put the band-aid on her arm and give her chocolate. I chuckle, thinking about what my parents would say.
Minerva puts a generous amount of sugar in my cup. "Drink," she says. I can't get out of my thoughts. They circle and revolve around Nymphadora. She’s been dead for two years. Two years during which Minerva has supported me through my ups and, more importantly, through my downs. I take a sip of tea, let it swirl around in my mouth. It’s smooth and sweet, it’s liquid comfort. Tears gather in my eyes. Before the first one falls, she holds me securely in her arms. "I have you," she whispers into my hair. I lean against her and cry.
Nymphadora is sleeping peacefully on the rug. I sip my hot chocolate and stare at Teddy, who is staring at our baby girl. Teddy moves to lie down beside her. She runs her finger through Nymphadora’s fine green hair and over a velvety rosy cheek. Nymphadora sighs. I join them on the floor, lie on my side and draw a few small circles on our daughter's belly. "She's perfect," Teddy whispers. I smile and nod. I can hardly take my eyes off her. Teddy grabs my wrist. I bend over our baby and capture Teddy’s lips in a tender kiss.
Minerva sits down on my lap. We barely have room on the armchair. I play with the clasp of her bra while I kiss her neck. I remove the garment and take her breast in my mouth. I suck on her nipple until she moans. "Touch me," she begs. Her plea makes me throb. I don't give her what she wants, leaving her desperate for friction. Her face contorts in frustration and impatience. She clutches my shoulders and thrusts her hips against me. Her nails cause a delicious pain. I slide two fingers between her legs and make her come.
I groan in frustration. My daughter looks at me with wide blue eyes. Her hair is short and turquoise. It suits her, but it would violate the Statute. The ribbon that held her blonde hair together minutes before is on the floor. I kneel in front of her and stroke her cheek. "We're going to a Muggle wedding," I say softly, "Can you please make your hair blonde?" She reluctantly does as I say. I wish I didn't have to force her. "No ribbon," she demands and I nod. She never lets me put a ribbon in her hair again