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fuokir · 1 year

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Aena Florence Cowell - Profile

◊ Basic Information ◊

▹ Gender: Female ▹ Date of birth: 19th of February ▹ MBTI: Defender ISFJ-A ▹ Nationality: British | Welsh ▹ Blood status: Pure-blood ▹ Wand: English Oak Wood | Unicorn Core | 14 ½" Length | Slightly Springy flexibility ▹ Nickname: - ▹ House: Slytherin ▹ Patronus: Red Squirrel ▹ Boggart: Dragon/Fire ▹ Amortentia: Juniper, menthol, lime ▹ Animagus: -

◊ Appearance ◊

Aena is slightly above average height. She has long blond hair, to be honest it's hard to say what color, her hair was once very burned out in the sun, I would call it a pearl blond, with a warm undertone. Violet eyes, in her favorite sly squint. A long, straight nose, it is very easy for them to get into other people's business. Freckled skin and two facial scars.

▹ Clothing style: Ready to dress up in anything, the main thing is that it be washed and ironed. She loves trendy blouses and comfortable shoes, otherwise she just wants to look neat. ▹ Accessories: Silver earrings. A brooch with which she secures a bow on her collar. ▹ Other distinguishing features: Two scars. First received before Hogwarts, her younger sister hit her with a candlestick in a fit of rage. This scar cuts through her upper lip. The second one was obtained approximately between 4-6 class step (I still haven't decided) in a fight with Aisha. This scar is located across the bridge of the nose.

◊ Personality ◊

Aena is a person who values connections very much, and, first of all, values her own comfort. She can come across as rude due to her bluntness, although she usually tries to choose her words. For close people, Aena is the figure of an older sister, patronizing and ready to help with deed or advice. She is still clueless in conversation, but it has its own charm. If you come to her in a bad mood or in tears, she will definitely coo around you and if words do not help, then be sure that you will be taken to have fun in Hogsmeade, even if Professor Weasley did not give permission to visit the village. Due to her rather reserved nature, it is very difficult to catch her own resentment or bad mood. As a rule, she suppresses bad emotions if the pressure on her is very strong. Cowell is inclined to break loose on someone, but more often than something (Ferdinand Octavius Pratt will never forgive her for his torn portrait that once hung in the Trophy Hall). Otherwise, she learned to live such moments in herself, not wanting to impose her problems.

▹ Traits: Self-confident, imposing, diligent, cunning, communicable. ▹ Likes: Feeling of winning, gift gifts to friends and family (she is one of those people who will see a wild flower, remember you and pick it to give), To speak caustically. ▹ Dislikes: Gobstones, hates all kinds of sweets and candies (childhood trauma). ▹ Good at: Chess, persuasion, remember things quickly. ▹ Bad at: Flying on a broom (she gets motion sick), to be tact. ▹ Hobbies: Board games, Herbarium, calligraphy. ▹ Fears: Fire, fatal disease. ▹ Ambition: Become an influential person in the magical world.

◊ Family ◊

▹Father: Ambrose Thomas Cowell ▹Mother: Lavinia Marjorie Cowell (nee Brown) ▹Sibling: Aeva Francis Cowell (little sister) | Darcia Arthur Cowell (little brother) ▹ Paternal grandparents: Bertram Caspar Cowell and Marjorie Rose Cowell ▹Maternal grandparents: They do not communicate for one reason or another / Aena does not know them, as much.. ▹ Other noteworthy relatives: Angus Beresford Cowell (uncle), Anna Rayne Brown (aunt), Victor Brown (cousin), Cain Beresford Brown (cousin, illegitimate son of Anna and Angus).

▹ Pet: Couple Mooncalfs and Jobberknoll ▹ Family home: Cardiff ▹ Blood Status: Pure-Blood ▹ Social standing: Middle class family, i guess... Aristocracy? ▹ Family background: The relationship between the Browns and the Cowells became very tense after the announcement of the engagement between Lavinia and Ambrose. Both Aena's parents were strong-willed and strong-willed, and although the families did not want this union, in fear that the newlyweds would quickly fall out of love with each other when they were drawn into the routine, this did not happen. The birth of Aena, the first-born, was not accepted by applause, the parents were still very young, just about to graduate from Hogwarts. it was also that Anna, Lavinia's cousin, and Angus, Ambrose's brother, were not careful and their families found out about their union. And although the Cowells, as a fairly young purebred family, were not well known, everyone whispered about the Browns. This angered the Browns and almost all ties between the families were cut off. This did not prevent the girl from growing up in love and care, even in some kind of permissiveness. Aena was a mischievous child. In particular, she adopted the confidence of her father, and inherited from her mother an unshakable determination. Of course her uncle Angus, who frequents them (living for a while with his brother and his family), also contributed. He was cunning, playful, witty and an excellent gambler. During the early years of Ambrose and Lavinia's marriage, he often stayed to babysit his niece while his brother and his wife worked at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It would be nonsense if, in the end, Aena did not learn to play almost as well as her uncle. Over time, her sister was born, and now not only Angus was the nanny, but Aena herself, because her sister turned out to be a completely restless child.

The Cowell family can be safely called an example of a healthy family, where everyone listens and hears each other. Where conflicts are not hushed up, but resolved. In their house there is always an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Family members value each other, they will never refuse to help friends and relatives. Her parents still work in a bank. Grandfather was an Auror, and her grandmother worked as a curse breaker. Her uncle Angus does not work anywhere, but thanks to his skill as a card sharper, he squanders money in all directions.

◊ Relationships ◊

It is difficult to write down with whom Alena is friends to one degree or another, since she tends to call a friend a person with whom she communicated a couple of times both of them at school. Anyway, she was the most frequent communication with Amit Thakkar, Aisha Werdy(oc), Grace Pinch-Smedley and Imelda Reyes. With the advent of the New Fifth Year, Aena's friend list has become noticeably larger! Since the fifth year, a new student has appeared in Cowell's inner circle (I would like to use a specific character, but I love many MCs so much … this is a difficult choice for me, in general, your character could be here !!!). Through the new fifth year, Aena became closer to Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. This was an interesting experience for Aena, who was very prejudiced against Gaunt due to rumors and stories from her parents. Although her parents did not want to appear biased, because they had also been the subject of all sorts of dirty rumors before, they were very afraid of ties with the Gaunts. Interestingly, thanks to MC, Cowell stopped communicating with Cressida Blume. One day, Aena managed to overhear a conversation between a newcomer and Ominis in the Hogwarts library, where the MC told in detail what he had read in a Gryffindor girl's diary. She also had a quarrel with Imelda for a while, Reyes was tirelessly talking dirty about the new one and Aena was so tired of it that she asked Imelda not to talk to her until it was all over.

Any more serious and romantic feelings were alien to Aena for a long time. Probably the culprit was gambling, through which she received joy and adrenaline. When she was strictly banned from playing within the walls of the school for as much as 2 years, for Cowell it was a global catastrophe. She was still holding small sessions of games in Hogsmeade, Aena could not find a place for herself and did not know what to do. She struggled with background anxiety for a long time, at some point losing any interest in games. Ominis became her distraction. They bumped into each other on the way to Hogsmeade, talking. Gaunt had another problem with his parents (and more problems with Sebastian), Aena had complete emptiness and disappointment in herself as a person (she was really ashamed of her actions). The Slytherins entered into a playful agreement, Aena helped the boy create the appearance of the life that the Gaunts wanted for him (minimal, but this, as it turned out, was enough), and in return Ominis was supposed to simply brighten up Aena's especially lonely days. And so, with slow steps, they became closer and closer to each other.

◊ little things ◊

Heather Mason - Silent Hill 3

Dana Scully - X-Files

Morrigan - Dragon age:Origins

Suki - ATLA

Princess Leia Organa - Star Wars

Rhaenys Targaryen - House of the Dragon

#hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #aena cowell #hphl #hphl mc #hp oc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x mc

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thesirencult · 1 year

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Pick A Card Reading : Soulmate/Forever Person/Future Spouse

(Flowers Of Romance Part 1)

Hello beautiful readers,

I decided to start a series of tarot readings that will be based on literature and specifically romance novels, poetry and letters.

Obviously this is copyrighted and if a fellow reader uses the same type of format or reposts my writing I would appreciate it if they tagged and credited me. Karma works both ways and copying someone else's work to gain a few likes and followers has its downside. I'll create a masterpost in a few days so you will be able to find all my readings into one place.

The series kicks of with quotes from "Letters To Milena" by Franz Kafka. A beautiful book that is a perfect read for the fall and winter season.

Novels keep great loves alive in their pages and even if the lovers ascend together to another level of consciousness their loving energy will forever be with us.

If you want a personal reading you can book one through direct messaging. I offer tarot readings and astrology ones (both birth charts and synastry). ONLY 15 SPOTS ARE AVAILABLE FOR TAROT AND 5 FOR ASTROLOGY ! THANK YOU GUYS 💖💖 Enjoy your reading ! It's for entertainment purposes and it's a general one, so feel free to apply everything to your own situation. Don't be shy ! Comment which pile/piles you chose 💞

Pile 1

Death, 10 Of Wands, 8 of wands

My dear,

Your soft voice echoes in the tunnels of my despair, disrupting the silence of loneliness and waking me up from the deathly sleep of emptiness. You are the light that woke me up from the slumber my love. I had lost all hope, letting go of myself into the abyss. I thought that no one would show up for me. That I was created here in this world as a mistake, without a twin soul. You're mine my beloved.

It's time to let me take the burdens off of your shoulders. I would do it all for you baby. I'll be your lover, your father, your brother, your friend. Everything for you. Will you accept me, a man beaten and bruised by fate, that you brought back to life ?

You broke the chains that held me back. When I say that I will do something I mean it. I can not wait to be with you. I'm insatiable.

Pile 2

The Magician, Knight of Cups

Babe,

Have you been good ? Because I'm extra naughty my love !

I know that I can be too aggressive and forward sometimes. My ego gets the best of me and that causes problems in our relationship. I feel it in my soul that I manifested you, like I did with everything in my life. I can be possessive and arrogant, but I swear I'll work on it for our sake.

I know I'm immature, but it's because I can not contain myself around you. You make me feel young again, like a small child in need of his favourite candy. I'm trying to romance you with flowers and chocolate and everything your heart desires but you're playing hard to get. I'll get you, I know I'll do baby. When time comes you'll be mine. I don't back down easily...

Pile 3

The Empress, The Moon, Justice

My Goddess,

Someone would think that you were made from fairy dust. Built by God as the epitome of woman. You're very feminine, kind, sensitive and watery. Your creative powers are immense and you can manifest everything your heart desires. Whatever your hands touch, turns to gold. You make me feel like a Good, because you're a Goddess. I'll worship you as a one, my sacred love.

You're like the moon. Always changeable and fertile with ideas. You have your moments,good and bad, but I still love you and adore you through everything. Your intuition is always on point. Wise yet fresh and innocent. You awoke primal instincts within me. We can not escape time my Goddess. We are bound by it. But I'm beginning to wonder, why does time seem to slow down whenever you caress me and when you let my lips touch yours, the lips of a goddess.

Sometimes I wonder if I deserve you. Do I deserve the love of a Goddess ? Always and forever yours. Yours. Yours and only yours...

Pile 4

Ace Of Swords, 2 Of Wands, Queen Of Wands

Dear Soulmate,

When I saw you, it was the first time I saw clearly. My eyes opened to your beauty and love. The blindfold was lifted and now I see. I see the clear light blue colour of the skies and hear the birds sing. You opened up my eyes to new horizons and unknown magical lands.

I finally made the choice to leap into your fountain of love. I made the choice to anchor my heart into the bottom of your deep wild oceans. I long to live with you by the sea, to honour your beautiful and gentle soul. Because, for all the sights I've seen and all the journeys I've taken around the world, our journey and you, my partner, I'll never grow tired of.

You're warm and vibrant like the sun. You keep my heart warm in the cold winters. You keep me alive my love.

Yet I feel that if I dared to fly too close to you I would get burned. The problem is that I'll be honoured to die by your scorching love.

Pile 5

The Star, Ace Of Pentacles , The Hermit

My little star,

You're so enchanting, like you came out of a fairytale. Your smile, your lips, your hair, your beautiful elegant fingers. I love kissing your petite knuckles and nuzzle my face on top of your head. You're so talented and beautiful. My lucky star. I admire you a lot. I love your magical aura.

I want to offer you the world and even though it seems like I'm promising a lot, I mean it. From the first moment I saw you I tried to hold back my feelings, to calm down and take things slowly so we could build a strong foundation.

You're a mirage. I dream of you and I have visions of those beautiful eyes. My beloved little star, you shine so bright in the darkness of the world. You're so unique.

I know that we have to take some time apart to grow separately. Don't feel lonely, I'm right here looking at the night sky, wishing and dreaming for a love like yours. I'll wrap you up in a blanket made from stardust.

Remember, every single time you look up at the sky, either at the moon and the stars or at the bright sun, I'll be there, under the same sky looking up as you do.

#pac reading #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #tarot reading #future spouse #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #astrology #twinflame #manifesting #loassumption #franz kafka #letters to milena #literature #specific person #future love

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talonabraxas · 3 months

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Huichol Yarn, Deer, Eagle Shaman & Sun Eagle Talon Abraxas

A GUIDE TO HUICHOL SYMBOLOGY SHAMANS - The spiritual leaders who are ambassadors to the gods, shamans preside over ceremonies, recite the divine passages, cure the sick, interpret dreams, etc. They are believed to have supernatural powers and insights in the metaphysical world that are considered out of reach for normal humans.

SPIRIT GUIDES - Intermediaries between human and spirit realms, the guide can take the shape of half-human, half-animal being. These figures appear in visions and dreams and remain with each shaman even after apprenticeship is over.

FIRE - Considered a very valuable gift from the gods, fire is called Tai. Tai is believed to enable the Huichol to have visions. The fire god, Tatewari, is always honored at Huichol ceremonies, and receives many offerings such as corn meal, sacred water and much of the art that they make.

HEALING WANDS - Called Muvieri, each shaman carries a wand in their medicine basket. They are made of pairs of eagle or hawk feathers attached to ceremonial arrows, and are used in rain making ceremonies and other divinations.

PATH OF LIFE - Wavy lines represent the "vine of life", which the Huichol Goddess of Life gives to every soul (plant, animal, human) at birth. This vine is the soul's spiritual connection to the breath of the goddess in the ethereal realm. When people chose to follow her "path of flowers", they receive her blessings: prosperity, abundance, creativity, health, and their hearts' desires.

WOLF PEOPLE - Believed to be the earliest ancestors, they spoke and lived like people. Tacutsi, the goddess of life, first taught them how to live well and overcome hunger and cold.

PRAYER ARROWS - Used to express gratitude or requests to the gods, called Urus, prayer arrows, like gourd bowls, are ceremonial objects through which the gods are believed to give their blessings. Special prayer arrows have crystals attached to them, representing the spirits of departed ancestors.

PEYOTE CACTI - Symbol for life, sustenance, health, success, good luck, and acquisition of shamanic powers, the peyote appears in practically all Huichol art and is considered a gift from the gods to the people to enlighten their lives and bring them into the mystical realm.

THE SUN - Brings light and illumination to the world. Tayaupa is father sun, master of the heavens, and his wife is the Eagle, mother of the sky and goddess of life. The Huichols believe all living things receive their power from the sun, and that He guarantees healthy crops and abundant food.

SNAKES - Instruct shamans to become healers. The rattle on the Rattlesnake is believed to be the tongue of the greatest shaman of all, which is the fire god. Snakes may also be associated with the rain goddess. The Mother Goddess of the Sea is pictured as a huge coiled serpent forming herself into a cyclical storm cloud from which rain falls. The Huichols believe that rain itself consists of millions of small snakes. They are valued for their work in the cornfields where they eat the rodents and pests harmful to the corn harvest.

DEER - The spirit guide Kauyumari, who leads the shamans on their visionary pathways and teaches them how to gain their special knowledge. One of the most commonly seen motifs, the deer, maxa, in Huichol, often appear in male and female pairs, symbolizing the unity between men and women on their spiritual journey. Legends about the deer abound in Huichol culture. The deer mother is the guardian spirit, the important animal in Huichol shamanism. She holds tobacco gourds and corn plant, both of utmost importance for Huichol survival. The Huichols believe that deer give their lives willingly to those who hunt them in a sacred manner. After a deer hunt, the hunters have to perform purifying rituals for many days to insure that the animals are properly thanked for giving their lives to the benefit of the people.

FLOWERS - Play a part in all Huichol ceremonies, and all flowers are considered sacred in healing rituals; the patient's head is anointed with flowers. Shamans use them to prepare for the deer hunt and during harvest ceremonies to adorn the new corn. One flower that appears often is called Kiera, the tree of the wind. It is a hallucinogenic plant said to open the Huichols spirits to the highest level of enlightenment.

BIRDS - Believed to be messengers to and from the gods, all birds are held in great regard. The shamans use tail and wing feather of eagles and hawks in their rituals and ceremonial chanting. The double-headed eagle is another common design, representing the shaman's omnipotent power to see in all directions.

TURTLES - Esteemed as assistants of the rain goddesses, turtles are believed to be responsible for replenishing the water of underground springs and the purity of all water sources.

WOLVES - Carrier of spirits, Kumukemai, the wolf, is honored in all peyote ceremonies. Many Huichols believe they are descendents of the "Wolf-People" of primordial times. Huichol shamans claim to possess the power to transform themselves into spirited wolves.

GOURD BOWLS - Used by shamans as containers filled with important symbols, such as corn, animals, and images of family members. Colorfully decorated, they are carried during ceremonies and prayer for protection, health, and abundance. The symbols themselves represent attributes of different gods and goddesses. They are placed in shrines and sacred sites throughout the Huichol homeland.

SCORPIONS - Used by shamans to repel evil and bad luck. They are both esteemed and feared. A deadly species of scorpion inhabit Huichol land and cause numerous fatalities every year. However, the Huichols believe that the scorpion spirit is a powerful ally that protects them as well.

SALAMANDERS - Agents of the rain mother, salamanders are connected with the water and rain, stirring up clouds and making rain fall.

JAGUAR - Messengers of the god of fire, Tatewari, they are guardians of the sacred vows taken by shamans during their years of initiation. Called Mayetse, they are given the power to devour the spirits of those who fail.

EAGLES - Believed to be the embodiment of a goddess known as Mother Eagle, Mother of the Sky and Queen of Heavens. Huichols admire Werika, the eagle as the most magnificent among all birds.

CANDLES - Represent the illumination of the human spirit, Catira, candles hold the sacred gift from the sun and fire gods. Along with flowers and ribbons, attached candles serve as offerings and payment to the deities who have granted special wishes to a Huichol.

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF COLORS:

WHITE - Cloud Spirits.

RED - The East, fire, masculinity.

BLUE - The South, Pacific Ocean, water, rain, femininity.

GREEN - The Earth, the Heavens, healing, the heart, grandfather, growth.

YELLOW - A special root from Wirikuta used for face paint in ceremonies.

ORANGE - "Wirikuta", the sacred land where the Huichol believe life began and also where they gather peyote.

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archivalofsins · 10 months

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It's Haruka's Birthday! Happy Birthday to him~ Unlike someone who didn't say it at least I did.

Now onto flower languages! Yamanaka tweeted this for Haruka's birthday. Since we have all the Milgram characters birthdays except Es and Jackalope. We can look up the remaining birth flowers.

A hint to which flower chart he's using is in the flower he lists for Haruka. Where I'm from Haruka and Amane's birth flowers according to the old farmer's almanac would be Rose and Honeysuckle.

So, what's he using? Well, the more in depth Korean one of course~

Unlike the farmer's almanac which covers the month wholesale the Korean one has a flower for each day of the month.

Haruka June 22

Viburnum 가막살나무 - Love is stronger than death.

Outside of the meanings listed by Yamanaka Viburnum is used to symbolize pride and is given to someone to honor their achievements.

Amane June 27

Passion Flower 시계꽃 - Divine love.

Amane even has a piece that resembles the flower on her cake art. Outside of meaning Divine Love it has heavy ties to Christianity.

"The name 'passion flower' refers to the passion of Jesus and the genus therefore has a particular relevance at Easter. Spanish Christian missionaries adopted the unique structure of the plant as symbols of the last days of Jesus and especially his crucifixion."

Mu July 5

Lavender 라벤더 - Strong fragrance

To the surprise of no one outside of meaning Strong Fragrance Lavender has strong ties to France.

"The term lavender comes from the old French word, lavender which is imitative of the Latin word lavare (“to wash”). This flower represents serenity, grace, and calmness. The biblical meaning of lavender symbolizes purity, devotion, and love; that’s why lavender is referenced more than a hundred times in the Bible by the name of nard or spikenard by Hebrews."

"Lavender’s purple color also represents calmness and serenity."

In the Old Farmer's Almanac Mu's birth flower would be the Larkspur and Water Lily.

Kazui August 5

Heather 엘리카 - Loneliness, solitude

Through the power of k-pop-

I've found out that the website I was getting the birth flowers from spelled the English name of Kazui's flower wrong. Also, it can mean loneliness, beautiful solitude, or soulmate. In the west, this flower would be referred to as Heather and its meaning would be good luck, admiration, and protection.

Kazui's birth flower according to the farmer's almanac would be Gladiolus and Poppy.

Yuno September 2

Mexican Ivy 멕시칸 아이비 - Change

Look I'm not even going to hold you finding the meaning of this specific version of ivy in English is difficult. At least for me it is maybe someone else can find it. However, when I look it up all the internet is giving me is the meaning of ivy which is a completely different flower. So, moving along.

Yuno's flowers in the farmer's almanac would be Morning Glory and Aster.

Mikoto October 6

Hazel Tree 개암나무 - Reconciliation

Yeah, you and I read that right it's a tree. A tree that has been tied to Celtic myths and was said to line the border between the human realm and that of the gods.

"Hazel has a reputation as a magical tree. A hazel rod is supposed to protect against evil spirits, as well as being used as a wand and for water-divining. In some parts of England, hazelnuts were carried as charms and/or held to ward off rheumatism. In Ireland, hazel was known as the 'Tree of Knowledge’, and in medieval times it was a symbol of fertility."

Mikoto's birth flower according to the Farmer's Almanac would be the Marigold and Cosmos.

Shidou October 24

Chinese Plum Blossom 매화 - Noble heart

This is also considered a tree, just not such a normal one.

"In Chinese philosophy, the Plum tree’s blossom is a symbol of winter ending and a herald of spring. The tree’s pale pink blossoms are cherished because they bloom vibrantly and so bravely amidst the winter chill. They symbolise perseverance and hope, as well as, beauty thriving in adverse circumstances."

"Plum blossoms represent good luck, prosperity, hope, courage, beauty, and purity in China. In Japanese traditions, they also symbolize hope in addition to renewal and vitality."

Good plant for the guy lying and replacing with hope, huh? Shidou's flowers in the Farmer's Almanac would be the same as Mikoto's.

Kotoko December 15

Winter Daphne 서향 - Immortality, honor.

Winter Daphne was also used as,

"A way of telling a love, “I would not have you otherwise.”."

Here's some more information on the flower.

Mahiru January 17

Rumex 수영 - Friendly

Rumex doesn't just mean friendly it has been stated to mean,

Affection, Matrimonial Tenderness, Close Relationships, Friendships and appears again on December 4 meaning Love.

Mahiru's flowers within the Farmer's Almanac would be Carnation & Snowdrop.

Last but certainly not least-

Futa April 19

Larkspur 참제비고깔 - Clear, fair.

Futa's was also misspelled in English on the website I was using so I corrected it.

"The Pawnee tribe of North America believed in a mythological figure, "Dream Woman," who cut a hole in the sky to look down on Earth beings. Crumbs from the blue sky fell to the ground and became larkspur. And like lily of the valley, larkspur is also associated with the Virgin Mary and is said to represent her tears. Larkspur is symbolic of a beautiful spirit, swiftness and generally of positivity and strong bonds of love. It is also associated with lightheartedness and youth, possibly because it grows in summer where carefree days are spent away from school."

"In the language of flowers, the larkspur holds the symbolic meaning of strong love bonds, dedication, sincerity, positivity and an open heart."

Open this door and check if you want to.

Futa's birth flowers within the Farmer's Almanac would be Daisy and Sweet Pea.

#milgram #sakurai haruka #kusunoki muu #fuuta kajiyama #kayano mikoto #kirisaki shidou #shiina mahiru #kashiki yuno #momose amane #kotoko yuzuhira #mukuhara kazui

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luc3 · 1 year

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Black Elderberry. [French Folks Traditions]

In the 19th century, the peasants of France still attributed magical properties to the Elderberry, and its wood was sometimes used to make sorcerer's staffs and divinatory wands.

In the legend, Judas, after having betrayed Christ, would have gone to hang himself from an Elderberry branch. Thus, it is said in Vienne, that the person who breaks an elderberry branch in the garden of his neighbors will betray this one in the year, even without wanting it and without knowing it.

It should also be noted that in certain regions, Elderberry served as a panacea : everything was good in Elderberry for healing, in the past. But that following the curse linked to Judas, its powers had been supposedly removed.

Protective Magic :

Côtes d'Armor : Elderberries are planted near houses to ward off evil spells and snakes. It is also used to protect livestock (diseases and evil spells) by placing a branch in the cows' litter.

Yonne : Pick up a branch of Elderberry on the passage of the Corpus-Christi procession and then place it in an apple tree, it'll protect it against caterpillars. (?!)

Lower Brittany, Côtes d'Armor : You should never hit a cow with an Elderberry branch, it will make it sick, or cause its milk to dry up. Same thing for pigs. Moreover, if you burn Elderberry wood, you risk preventing the hens from laying eggs.

Magical Medicine:

Côte d'Armor : It is said that the Dlderberry is a "doctor", because the fairies took refuge in the flowers to flee the world when it became too mean. (a special one for my dear @lailoken )

Vienne, Vaucluse : the patient who touches an Elderberry will get better in the next few days, and to cure fevers you have to slip his name and date of birth into a previously hollowed-out elderberry tree.

The feast of Saint John is (of course) favorable to the Elderberry, whose virtues it multiplies.

In the Gospel of the Cattails it is said that warts are cured by rubbing it with an Elder leaf on the eve of Saint John, a leaf which is then buried. As the leaf rots, the wart dries out.

In Upper Brittany, Elderflowers collected on Saint John's Day are used to make an herbal tea to treat sick eyes.

Witchcraft :

Jura : We know the story of a sorcerer who introduced a little excrement from the person or animal he wanted to bewitch into a hollowed-out elderberry stick. He then fixed this stick in running water while reciting a prayer. The victim had stomach aches as long as the water agitated the stick.

In addition, Collin de Plancy in his Dictionnaire Infernal reports that : "when one has received some curse from a sorcerer whom one does not know, one hangs one's habit from one ankle and strikes on it with an elderberry stick; all the blows will fall on the back of the guilty sorcerer, who will be forced to come, in all haste, to remove the spell."

I learned SO MUCH HERE (snakes / little neighbors / sick eyes) while I came confident and persuaded to find other things in these quotes... Thus I'll continue to thank and pay tribute by posting the work of J. Fournier on the subject. (Once translated.)

Pic 1 @incroyables-plantes ; pic 2-3 @lherbier-d-elsa

Quotes arranged by me from the Dictionnaire de la France Mystérieuse by MC Delmas.

Also @graveyarddirt, I know you have some and you'll like it Sis' <3

#Sambucus Nigra #Black Elderberry #Great Grand'Ma #Great Old One #mountain gods #<3 #diary #Them #PS: if we could commit suicide collectively concerning the tumblr layout thing?#French Folks Traditions

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jomiddlemarch · 4 months

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to be two chaoses

The nightmares began after Rose was born.

Resumed was the more accurate term, as Hermione had nearly become dependent on Dreamless Sleep within a few weeks of Harry’s victory over Voldemort, when the multiple years’ worth of trauma, especially the torture she’d experienced at Malfoy Manor, had come bearing down on her like the Hogwarts Express on steroids, an expression Harry would pretend not to understand and Justin would shrug at in commiseration. Her parents, sequestered in Mugglish obscurity in Melbourne, would not have been any help if she’d been able to get to them and restore their memories, something she repeated to herself as a mantra, since she couldn’t get to them and it turned out she couldn’t restore their memories, orphaned in a way no one around her grasped. There was a nightmare about that, but it wasn’t in the top tier, such that she almost welcomed its arrival; it was the only way she saw her parents when they knew who she was to any degree. Though it ended in devastation, it always started with her mum smiling at her.

If Ron hadn’t been able to help her, they never would have stayed together. She knew that in some deep, indefinite part of herself, just as she knew not to tell him. There had been lust, initially fierce and apparently unslakable, and the affection of their schoolyears together, the shared jokes, the homely memories of jacket potatoes and Madam Longbottom’s horrific flower-pot hats secured with jeweled pins that were nearly as deadly as a wand, the scent of the first snow, and so many recollections in candlelight, but none of it would have been enough if he hadn’t taken her into his arms and held her the first night she woke breathless from a scream she’d swallowed, the arm Bellatrix had cut burning terribly, the scar from Dolohov as heavy as the weights they’d used to press witches with in Salem. He’d said her name completely, not dropping a syllable, Hermione, and then I’ve got you and nothing else, letting his heartbeat and his breath be the only sounds she could hear. He’d grown into his frame that last year on the run when she’d starved in the woods, losing her period and handfuls of her brittle curls, and he’d somehow known how loosely to hold her so that she was able to nestle against him. The fragrance of the herbs his mother used in her laundry spells was faint but present, familiar. There was nothing sexual about his embrace then, but there was an intimacy greater than any fucking in the way he reacted, the inviolable memory of the agonized way he’d cried out when he’d heard her being brutalized that lived between them, as potent as the delight he took in her ecstasy.

She’d wondered that first night if it was a fluke, his ability to comfort her, and had told herself not to expect anything the next time but she’d been glad to be wrong. She put aside the sedative potions in their battered flasks and let herself fall asleep with a book in her hands, her hair still damp from the bath she’d taken, able to rely on his presence in the dark, the slight gleam of bronze in the moonlight that was his hair, the nearly grey blue of his eyes. They didn’t speak of it during the day, other than the infrequent mornings he greeted her with all right then instead of a nuzzled kiss to her temple or collarbone. The nightmares began as an onslaught and they waned slowly, slow enough Ron didn’t even ask when she might consider having children, though Hermione recognized the Weasley impulse to obscure their losses with babies, Fleur glowingly enceinte within a few weeks of Victoire’s birth, Ginny’s hand lingering over the small matinee sweaters her mother knit by the dozen. Percy’s return to the fold was eased by his hand at the small of his bride Penelope’s back, her radiance reflected in Molly’s face when they announced they expected a set of twins by the solstice. Ron gave Hermione what she needed to sleep and he gave her time to let the past become the past, her bloody, broken youth a shore increasingly distant. He couldn’t give her everything, but what he did was enough she’d been willing to let herself conceive the future he wanted so badly. He’d wept when she told him, burying his face in her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her instead of laying one large hand on her belly. It was his hands on either side of her spine that reassured her she’d been right.

The pregnancy was ordinary enough. Her only real dilemma was how to satisfy her cravings for Branston Pickle and Hobnobs without offending Ron’s mother or drawing too much attention from his father, whose fascination with the miscellany of Muggle life hadn’t declined with the end of the war. Ron, displaying the thoughtful observation she’d first found impossibly attractive while watching him play Wizard chess, maintained a calm affection towards her in company, a quiet tenderness when they were alone that made her worry sometimes he was trying to be someone he wasn’t just to please her. And then there were the times she found him gazing out a rain-streaked window at the Burrow. She knew he was thinking of Fred, of Tonks and Remus, of the scars on Bill’s face, the brother Ron most resembled, and she knew he’d been forged by grief as much as by victory. Hermione ate, she slept, she complained of heartburn and was told she must be carrying a ginger with curls as wild as her own. She read what passed for child-rearing books in the Wizarding world, nearly decapitated Harry chucking the third book across the sitting room in an only-partially hormonally mediated rage and bought every glossy paperback on the display at Foyles, which gave her some idea of what she might expect if she’d been a Muggle and included the concept of a birth-plan. Plans, as ever, held an irresistible appeal and were nearly as tranquilizing as Professor Binns.

When she mentioned that bit about the birth-plan to Ron while they were visiting his parents, George hanging about as usual, Percy working on some document at what passed for a desk over in a corner Hermione couldn’t remember previously existing, her mother-in-law just managed to keep from saying “Nonsense.” Hermione could clearly see that was what Molly had wanted to say and that she decided against it at the last minute after taking in at the book gripped tightly in Hermione’s hand and then Ron’s blue glare. Arthur kept fiddling with an immersion blender the way a Muggle child would handle a Rubik’s cube.

“A birth-plan is a very good idea, dear, but you’ll need to follow a witch’s plan and I do think, with the number of other witches you’ll require, you’ll be more comfortable at home or here at the Burrow,” Molly announced. Hermione glanced around and saw everyone present agreed with her mother-in-law.

“I’ll need to—or else what?” Hermione asked, curiosity outweighing her annoyance at Molly’s declaration.

“It’ll be too dangerous, for you and the baby,” Molly said. “Wild magic’s always an issue during delivery. For a witch as powerful as you and the baby likely to be the same—”

“It might be a boy,” Hermione said.

“Yes, I suppose it might,” Molly replied, her tone now entirely humoring-the-pregnant-daughter-in-law. She was convinced Hermione was carrying a girl, though Hermione and Ron had declined to find out when offered the chance at St. Mungo’s. “I meant the baby is likely to be magically gifted, considering her, that is, their parents. You’ll need at least four witches and seven would be safer. Obviously, Ginny and I will be there but you must decide who else you’d like.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. She’d never imagined childbirth to be organized like a tea-party. “I hadn’t thought to have anyone with me except Ron. And a midwife.”

Would she have wanted her mother with her, if she’d had the choice? She didn’t let herself wonder.

“If you don’t mind, dear, I’d suggest Augusta Longbottom,” Molly said briskly, making it clear that the if you don’t mindwas merely pro forma.

“Neville’s gran?” Hermione said.

“She’s a very powerful witch and she’s quite fond of you,” Molly said. “She’s got better control than Minerva, though I’ll never admit that I’ve said that, and she’s no little experience with a laboring mother.”

“I’ll have Luna,” Hermione said. Ron gave her a quizzical look but knew enough not to say anything else, though she could see the effort if took for him to keep from mouthing nargles? at her. “That’s four, that’s enough.”

“Seven would be less dangerous—"

Who else would she ask? Part of her longed to throw up her hands and tell Molly to stuff it, she’d rely on the NHS to see her through, she still had her card, but then the baby kicked, sharpish, as if to scold her for being an absolute ninny, and Ron was still holding his tongue when she knew it cost him to be quiet. He worried about them both, she could tell he’d be a good father, and Molly was only trying to make sure they both came through it, privy to knowledge Hermione couldn’t easily learn from any book.

“I’ll have Luna, but I’ll ask Andomeda, in case Luna isn’t able to come,” Hermione said. “There’s no trouble with five if they both show up, is there?”

“No. There might be a wobble, but nothing Augusta and I couldn’t manage between us and Andromeda’s a light hand,” Molly said.

“A light hand with pastry?” Ron asked.

“That too,” Arthur put in. “I believe your mother meant in channeling a magical surfeit, but she does make a very satisfying treacle tart. Not a patch on your mother’s, but close. Quite close.”

Molly was right.

Seven would have been safer, but Hermione and Rose bloody well squeaked through, as Ginny put it, earning herself a sharp glance and then an approving nod from Augusta Longbottom. The toucan-adorned hat had come off as Hermione entered transition and Madam Longbottom had had to exert herself to contain the burst of near Fiendfyre Hermione had unleashed. Luna had commented, with clear admiration in her usual dreamy tone, that Hermione was very equitable when it came to her elemental wild magic, as they’d had to contend with not only flames but a gale, a wave that overwhelmed Molly’s hastily conjured hip-waders, and a trembling underfoot that had made Arthur pop his head in and ask whether he ought to firecall St. Mungo’s or the Department of Mysteries. The gnomes had all cleared out and there was an ominous odor of brimstone seeping through the latched windows.

It was terrifying. What she was capable of and how proud they all were of her for it. She nearly burnt down the Burrow and Molly was as red-faced as she’d been battling Bellatrix Lestrange at Hogwarts by the time the baby was crowning, but she had a smile Hermione had never seen directed at herself before, a deep satisfaction that only grew more pronounced when Rose was delivered and discovered to be a little ginger witch, complete with a birthmark shaped like a phoenix’s tail-feather at the nape of her neck. Every peach on the trees Neville had painstakingly espaliered on the south wall withered in an instant and Augusta Longbottom only remarked, “Well done, you.” Luna had almost suffocated before she’d thrown up a Protego and her eyes were bright as she patted Hermione on the shoulder and Ginny had let out a long whistle, as if Hermione had captained the Harpies to a world championship when the Burrow had rung with the sound of the good china shattering.

A new marker appeared on Molly’s clock, the hand for Hermione pointing to “A Mortal Danger” instead of “in.”

Ron grasped Hermione’s dismay, but he was more concerned with her health and Rose’s. Once reassured, he kissed her softly and then asked to hold his daughter. Something about seeing his big hands cradling the swaddled baby and the tears in his eyes when he looked back at her made Hermione think everything would be all right.

That was probably the hormones and the residual magic kickback.

She chalked it up to sleep deprivation, since she was nursing and Rose was a little colicky and Molly said, no, believe it or not, dear, there wasn’t a spell that was safe to use to help settle a colicky little witch. Hermione knew this meant there was some Dark magic that would do the trick, but she’d probably be sacrificing her pinky finger or years of her life or Rose’s, so she gritted her teeth and reminded herself she’d get to sleep again. At some point. Likely before Rose went to Hogwarts.

The first dreams to return were from her earliest days of Hogwarts. The troll, the bathroom, the terror of being alone in her curtained bed and hearing Parvati and Lavender chattering away, but now there was an overlay of Rose’s crying to mix with the tears Hermione had swallowed back or sobbed out silently. In the manner of dreams, the smallest details were vivid—the nap of the velvet bed curtains, the shimmer Moaning Myrtle made in the mirror above the sinks—and yet Hermione woke with only a sense of dread, no memory of the lengthy half-imagined conversations she’d had with Harry or Ron.

Those were the easiest dreams to deal with.

Days turned into months. Rose grew, her silky ginger hair showing a decided curl, her eyes the same warm brown as Ginny’s. She babbled and scooted, crawled and stood and ran, and only Hermione hoped it would be a little while longer before her magic manifested. Hermione’s dreams grew darker, more terrifying. There were a thousand Horcruxes. Harry didn’t survive the final battle. Ron turned away and didn’t come back.

Snape bled to death in her hands.

Fenrir Greyback took her in the flight of the Harrys.

Azkaban. Gringotts. The Room of Requirement.

Bellatrix, laughing, singing, coaxing. Cruciatus until Hermione woke with tears in her hair, afraid it was her brain leaking out. Ron calling out for her under the chandelier, Dobby whisking her away, the knife in Harry’s back.

Everything impossible that had never happened.

Everything possible that had.

They became less gruesome, more disturbing. She thought she might be losing her mind. She worried about having another child and leaving Ron with two children to raise alone, being locked up in the Janus Thickey ward. Not knowing she was locked up, trying to play the out-of-tune piano because she had once wanted to play Liszt’s “La Campanella” at Carnegie Hall. She couldn’t decide which would be worse.

She spent as much time doing Arithmancy as she could and walked away when the conversation turning to curse-breaking or the old days. Hugo was conceived, carried, and delivered with far less fanfare and commotion than Rose and he was a solemn-eyed baby who needed a lot of rocking in the night. She dozed but didn’t sleep deeply enough to dream. It was a respite.

She grew used to it. She perfected her glamour for the shadows beneath her eyes. She learned to manage her hair after a jaunt to a Muggle stylist in London who scolded her for using a brush and sent her off with a bag of oils and conditioners and advice on a silk head-wrap for sleeping in. She worked her way up in the Ministry and Rose levitated herself to their roof along with the seemingly immortal Crookshanks. Hugo made the apple trees bloom at Yule. She lived. She dreamed. She considered the alternatives she’d dreamed and tried to be satisfied with silence.

Rose began to resemble Hermione’s mother.

Hugo hummed off-key under his breath like her father.

Rose turned eleven, got her letter, found Hermione’s old copy of Hogwarts: A History and packed it first along with a set of Extendable Ears from her Uncle George.

They went to the station platform.

Hermione saw Draco Malfoy for the first time in over a decade. His wife fussed with their son, the strap of his satchel. Ron reminded Rose that the Hogwarts pumpkin pasties wouldn’t be as good as Nan’s but she wasn’t to let the house-elves know or that would be all she had to eat for a week.

Draco looked back at her.

He knew.

He sent the letter to her office at the Ministry and not their home, the thoughtful tact therein encompassed being the primary reason she responded.

Yes, she would meet him at the coffee-shop he’d specified. The time was agreeable. No, she did not need directions in Muggle London.

She didn’t tell Ron about the letter or her answer. There needn’t be anything to tell. She knew how much omission was required for their marriage. She loved him. There was no betrayal.

She wore Muggle trousers and a cashmere jersey that hadn’t come from Molly’s needles beneath robes she Transfigured into a Burberry knock-off trench. It was a kind of armor, like the wand holster strapped to her forearm, the leather charmed to feel like silk and be stronger than dragonhide. She left early, to get there first. She wouldn’t be taken by surprise again.

Draco was sitting at a table off to the side when she arrived. He’d left her the place backed up to the wall, leaving himself the vulnerable party, the nape of his neck bare, his kidneys neatly framed by the slats of the chair. When she got close enough, she saw his eclipse-bright hair had begun to turn grey. The cufflinks at his wrists were malachite, neatly secured.

There was a tea-service set between them. The steam smelled of bergamot and smoke, an Earl Grey made with lapsang souchong. Her favorite but not a secret, something it would not be difficult or intrusive to discover, something that showed attention, discretion, and care. Slytherin, as always. He rose when she approached, waited to sit until she’d settled herself. His old-fashioned manners were exercised without any awkwardness, the politeness he would have shown to any witch.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet, Madam Granger,” he began, using the title she had decided on after completing her Arithmancy mastery via correspondence under Professor Ergodic. When Bill had pointed out the more traditional address was Domina Nimue Granger, Ron had nodded and stopped making his incipient fuss.

“Do we need to be so formal?” Hermione asked. “We’ve known each other since we were eleven.”

“Whatever you prefer, Hermione,” Draco said, his voice giving a slight upward inflection to her name. She couldn’t recall him ever using it before, only Granger said with a sneer, but the boy who’d smirked seemed long gone from the solemn, careful man sitting before her. “You are the one doing me the favor—”

“Am I? What exactly do you mean?”

“You read my letter. You responded. You showed up,” he said. “You didn’t need to do any of it.”

“I read the letter you sent after the trial,” she replied.

It had been delivered by a splendid eagle owl she did not recognize, the parchment hand-written in a perfect copperplate hand. The opening section had been rendered in ancient Etruscan, indicating the gravity of the statement, a Pureblood ritual she’d had to ask Ron, Molly and finally Neville’s gran to explain to understand the significance thereof: there was no greater level of ceremony invoked, the abasement of the writer compleat. If it had been a final examination paper for a mastery, it could not have been more exquisitely and thoughtfully written. It was a letter than required no reply and sought none, a detailed acknowledgement of Draco’s transgressions against her. Still, it went across her inarguably upper middle-class background to fail to send some kind of response, so she’d managed to find some monogrammed stationery her Aunt Judith had given her for a birthday gift and had penned a quick note in her crabbed hand to say Draco’s apology was duly noted and accepted. She had balked at wishing him well in his future endeavors, but to be fair, she had been eighteen, effectively orphaned, unable to sleep more than three hours in a night, and had been known to hold a grudge.

“Yes, I know. I didn’t mean that letter however,” Draco said. “I meant the one I sent last week. After the train station.”

“You didn’t say what you wanted to talk about,” Hermione replied.

“I thought you would be more likely to show up if I didn’t,” he said. “Your curiosity remains renowned—”

“Are you insulting me?” Hermione asked, without any of the heat of her girlhood.

“Not at all, though I should be able to express myself more skillfully than this, if you’re wondering,” he said. There was a wryness in his tone that was new to her. “I wrote because of the dreams—”

“What dreams?” she interrupted.

“I have them too,” he said gently.

“I don’t know what you mean, why you think we have anything in common, it’s mad—”

“They are a torment,” he said. Like four notes, the Tristan chord creating the opening between them, leaving her struck by the misery in his voice, the utter candor.

“I—they don’t—” She could not finish the sentence, could not think of what to say next. Draco picked up the teapot and poured them each a cup, stirring a lump of sugar into his own, never once hitting the china with the spoon’s lip.

“You’re not going mad,” he said.

“I know that,” she snapped.

“Then you’re ahead of me, as per usual. I’ve wondered, worried, for years. When Scorpius was born, I thought, maybe I’d be locked up in a straitjacket somewhere by the time his magic emerged. If it did, if he wasn’t a Squib,” Draco said.

“You were worried your heir would be a Squib?” Hermione said.

“I was worried the son of two Purebloods with known genetic disorders and curse-damage would be a Squib. I was worried I wouldn’t be there to defend him from the rest of the family,” Draco said. “You wouldn’t have had the same worries. Hybrid vigor, brightest witch, and the Weasley-Prewett line—”

“They thought we might both die in childbirth from my wild magic,” Hermione said. Draco cocked his head to one side and nodded. “We should have had seven witches present.”

“I did hear something about it,” Draco said. “My mother was quite impressed, though she did say they should have let the Burrow and all its tat burn to the ground and start over with the Ministry money.”

“What?”

“There’s money set aside for those situations, a fund. It’s because it only occurs when there is a surfeit of power. It’s in the Ministry’s interests to make sure a family with such a witch remains properly housed,” Draco explained.

“Oh. I thought maybe I’d die when she was born,” Hermione said.

“And then the dreams would be over,” Draco finished.

“Yes,” Hermione said. She took a sip of the tea, the universal panacea, unsurprised when once again it did nothing for her. It was properly steeped, she’d give him that, since he hadn’t been able to use magic in the Muggle café.

“It was Bellatrix,” he said. “You and I, I believe we’re the last sane survivors of her spells. That’s why we have the dreams, why they don’t attenuate.”

“Dark magic then,” Hermione said.

“Not exactly,” Draco said. “There was something wild about her even before she turned to Dark magic and you know the Blacks are given to madness, throw off restraint like a stallion bucking the bridle.”

“Is that all, then? I suppose it’s helpful, to have some idea why, though it’s not much of a relief,” Hermione said. She refrained from pointing out he was also of the Black line.

“Master Mamu at Uagadou has a theory we’ve been corresponding about,” Draco said. “Oneironautika, whether a charmed potion could function as an inducer, what a traveler could reliably affect within the dream structure, it catalysis is the only viable intervention. But Neville—”

“Neville knows? He’s been writing to Mamu?” Hermione exclaimed.

“They prefer to Floo. Such a mess, all that ash, but I suppose it’s nothing to the greenhouses and Bubotuber pus,” Draco said. “Neville’s been quite helpful, even though it’s not his area of interest. But his parents, well. He and his grandmother have years of observation to draw on.”

“Does Neville know about me?”

“Only if you’ve told him. He may have put two and two together, he’s quite brilliant for someone who was such a duffer,” Draco said with such fondness Hermione could not be roused to irritation. “I can’t imagine he’d ever speak of it to anyone, even if he suspects. Though if your glamour starts to fail, exquisite work, that, I shouldn’t be surprised if he sends along his alternative to Dreamless. He uses heather honey in it, it’s a revelation, but it’s not as much dream-lessening as muting.”

“You want my help,” Hermione said, having figured it out. It was what anyone ever wanted from her. “With Master Mamu, Neville, you want me to work the Arithmancy, perhaps to interpolate the runes—”

“No,” Draco said. “Rather, if you wish, you are most welcome, a witch of your caliber could only be a tremendous asset, but that’s not why I wrote you. That’s not what I wanted.”

“What do you want? Pardon me if my directness offends your Slytherin sensibilities,” Hermione said, tired, the tea in her cup cold, the broken night beckoning.

“I want to help you,” Draco said. “To make you feel better.”

“No one can do that,” Hermione said. Ron did what he could, steady now as he hadn’t been in their youth, astute enough not to speak of it.

“I can,” Draco said.

“You can,” Hermione repeated. “You can do something no one else can and beyond being able to, you additionally want to. There’s no life-debt between us, Draco, even if I believed you, there’s no reason for you—”

“I didn’t protect you when I could, Hermione,” he said. Had his eyes been lighter when he was a boy or had they always been this stormy shade, grey clouds over a grey sea?

“She would’ve killed us both,” Hermione said.

For a moment, she was lying on her back looking up at the chandelier, the bare outline of a girl around nothing but pain. She couldn’t not have told anyone her name if she’d been asked. Ron had been screaming but his voice had been distant, as distant as the future and the past, while Draco’s eyes on her had been a tether. They’d been bound in that second, in hopeless, blameless recognition and agony, and there had been some tiny, inviolate spark of herself that loved him then in a way she could never love anyone else. “You do mean when Bellatrix cursed me, don’t you?”

“I didn’t protect you then. Not before. Not after,” Draco said.

“Well, we were enemies,” Hermione said. She waved over a waitress, asked for a fresh pot of tea and a plate of lemon biscuits while Draco stared down at his hands. They were well-made, beautifully shaped, the hands of a sculptor or a pianist. Neither was the career a wizard would undertake, certainly not an aristocrat like the heir to the Houses of Black and Malfoy.

“No, we were schoolmates. Rivals. We were children and then teenagers,” Draco said. He rubbed a hand across his eyes, bowing his head. “I liked you—”

“You liked me?” Hermione snorted. “Is this revisionist history? Are you going to tell me you wanted to take me to the Yule Ball and buy me sweets at Hogsmeade weekends? Were you terribly fond of Harry and did you think Ron was a good chap whose family was just a bit down on their luck?”

“I liked you, Hermione,” Draco repeated, his voice low. “I wasn’t supposed to, wasn’t allowed to, but I did. I do.”

“You’re married. I’m married,” Hermione said. “Handfasted. Your family isn’t the only one to follow the Old Ways.”

(She would have married Ron at the Ministry, but Molly wouldn’t hear of it. Hermione’s own parents wouldn’t hear of it at all, so she’d acquiesced to the whole thing, the ring in the garden, the saffron yellow veil, the woad, the unsalted cakes she and Ron had had to bake in a solar oven without any magic. The only part she’d liked had been laughing together as they looked at the ugly lumps of dough, the gleam in Ron’s eyes as he’d told her they’d only have to choke down one bite each.)

“I know. I’m not trying to interfere. Weasley’s a good man and I would never dishonor Astoria,” Draco said. “But he can’t do this for you. You know that. He’s done what he can and you’re still suffering.”

“You’d be my Healer then? Without any certification, Healing mastery, apprenticeship?”

“Your friend. A fellow-traveler,” Draco said. “Whatever you’d allow.”

“My friend,” Hermione said.

“You are the same person who pledged her friendship for life to Potter and Weasley after being brought together in a bathroom by a troll,” Draco said. “It shouldn’t be that great a stretch for you.”

“Perhaps I’ve changed,” she replied.

“Perhaps,” Draco agreed, then hazarded a very small smile. “I don’t think so though. Not in this regard.”

“Will it help you with your own dreams?” Hermione asked.

“That’s not relevant,” Draco said. “That’s not why—”

“It’s relevant to me,” she said firmly.

“Of course it is,” he said, under his breath, as if he could get away with it sitting across from her, the café much quieter as the late afternoon rush had ended.

“Well?”

“I don’t know. Possibly,” he said. For the first time, he sounded put out, frustrated. It was the throughline to the boy he’d been and she found herself liking him for it. “Before you ask, it’s very unlikely to make anything worse for me. This isn’t some grand Gryffindor gesture of sacrifice on my part.”

“I think we’re beyond House identification, Draco,” she said.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

“It’s a tell me more about how you mean to proceed. What this dream-walking entails precisely,” she said.

“Will you let me show you something?” Draco said. Hermione considered. They were in a public place and she had faced greater horrors than a prematurely greying Draco Malfoy in his Savile Row suit. She nodded. Draco pushed the teapot and their cups to one side, reached over and took Hermione’s right hand in his own. His palm was warm against hers, his grasp charged with the familiarity one had with their wand, the tenderness of a long-awaited reunion. Hermione looked at their hands and then up, to find Draco watching her.

When she didn’t pull her hand away, he reached out with his left and took her other hand. Something surged between them, electric and yet sustaining, soothing. Something that was not magic but was of it, an ardent affection that sought only to give, to cherish, some fundamental realignment. Later, she would puzzle over it, scribble equations, then manipulate them with her wand, with an incantation of runes. She would find a way to explain it to Ron so that he’d understand. When he did, she might.

“Yes?” Draco asked. She could tell what he hoped for and that he would wait as long as she wanted. She could tell he would let their hands fall apart if she refused.

“Yes,” she said. He held her more tightly then and the brightness in his eyes was like moonlight, like the first time she had cast Lumos and banished darkness. Between them, it was as if a cup was filled, spilled over. She could not, however, resist poking.

“You must’ve worked some part of it out. I’ll want to review your notes.”

“Certainly,” he said.

Master Mamu authored the definitive text on oneironautika, but Draco wrote the introduction and Hermione the acclaimed chapter on runic expansion.

Draco insisted Hermione be the editor of the journal. He provided the funding for the first five years. After that, as he’d predicted, no financial assistance was required.

Ron wasn’t remotely put out, though he did scold her a bit for worrying he might be. “You the one always telling Rose and Hugo love’s not a pie. Well, that means you can’t get too full or lose your appetite for it.” At the service for Astoria, Ron told her to go over to Draco and played a three-hour game of Wizard chess with Scorpius he worked hard to throw stealthily enough the boy didn’t notice.

They weren’t one big happy family. But they could be happy and they could be a family.

When Kimah was born, there were seven witches present.

Draco collected a handful of knuts warm from Ron’s pocket when Scorpius announced she had red hair, Transfigured them into a bouquet of apricot tea roses, and gave them back to his son for his daughter-in-law.

Hermione, who had been up all night, slept.

And dreamed.

@artielu you are my main Dramione mutual so I hope you enjoy this atypical offering!

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bookishblogging · 1 year

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ALL ABOUT: Hermes 📬

"To Hermes, Fumigation from Frankincense. Hermes, draw near, and to my prayer incline, messenger of Zeus, and Maia's son divine; prefect of contests, ruler of mankind, with heart almighty, and a prudent mind. Celestial messenger of various skill, whose powerful arts could watchful Argos kill. With winged feet 'tis thine through air to course, O friend of man, and prophet of discourse; great life-supporter, to rejoice is thine in arts gymnastic, and in fraud divine. With power endued all language to explain, of care the loosener, and the source of gain. Whose hand contains of blameless peace the rod, Korykion (Corycion), blessed, profitable God. Of various speech, whose aid in works we find, and in necessities to mortal kind. Dire weapon of the tongue, which men revere, be present, Hermes, and thy suppliant hear; assist my works, conclude my life with peace, give graceful speech, and memory's increase." Orphic Hymn 28 to Hermes

Ἑρμης - HERMES

Hermes is the Olympian god of herds and flocks, travelers and hospitality, roads and trade, thievery and cunning, heralds and diplomacy, language and writing, athletic contests and gymnasiums, astronomy and astrology. He also was considered to be his divine father's personal messenger, and was the guide for recently departed souls through the underworld.

His parents were the Olympian Zeus and nymph Maia- more notably known as a daughter of the titan Atlas. The Odyssey places him being born on Mount Cyllene in Arcadia, but other sources argue this fact. It was said he was born on the fourth of the month, making the number four sacred to the god.

Mere hours after his birth, he escaped his cradle and stole Apollo's cattle. Soon after this, Hermes invented the lyre and Apollo was so captivated by the instrument that he allowed Hermes to get off without any punishment for the infant's trickery.

Hermes has multiple titles and epithets, many of which can be found here.

Symbols of Hermes

Herald's Wand

Winged Boots

Travelers Hat

Ram

Hare (Rabbit)

Crocus Flower

Strawberry-tree

Some of the god's notable divine offspring include:

Angelia: Goddess of messages

Eleusis: Goddess of the Eleusinian Mysteries

Palaistra: Goddess of wrestling

Pan: Goat-footed god of the wild

Priapos: God of garden fertility

Want to read more? Check out my sources!

Hermes Theoi Page

Hermes Wiki

Hermes Offspring

Hermes Family

Pan Wiki

Hermes Epithets

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kitchen-light · 1 year

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In the wonderful book The Once and Future King by T. H. White, the wizard Merlin instructs the young king Arthur: “The best thing for being sad…is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.”

Sophie Strand, from “The Birth of The Flowering Wand | A Year of Otherness”

#t h white #quotes #fiction #words #sophie strand #found*#british mythology #mythology

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w0nd3rplay · 3 months

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yoomi moonstar

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 Yoomi "Mariposa" Moonstar

𝐀𝐆𝐄 13

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 5/21 (may 21)

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 gemini

𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 filipino

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 human

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐘 afab agender

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒 she/her, any pronouns

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋/𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 panromantic, asexual

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 multifandom, originating from Mortal Kombat

╰► ✎ ̼ 「 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 」

tw; mentions of a bloodbath, slight mention of child abuse and ostracization.

As a way to ensure that the deceitful sorcerer would no longer intervene & disturb the peace he has created for the new era, Liu Kang decided to repurpose Shang Tsung's soul into an entirely different person after a long, careful consideration with Geras. So, there birthed a young filipino girl living within the mountains in an isolated village. Little did the Fire God know that fate itself wasn't too kind to her, as she was ostracized for not conforming to the village's cult-like ideology that was forcibly pushed onto its residents and was constantly shunned by her peers, even her parents.

It was common to see her hang around the nearby forest, her time there is what awakened her adventurous spirit and her place to escape from all the horrors she experienced in her early childhood. Always collecting small trinkets, such as twigs, seeds, and flowers. Eventually the day she stumbled upon a cave is where she found a spellbook and a glass-like crystal wand, from then on, she began her first pursuit of magic, right under the noses of the village's strict elders.

Though she would've been more careful when she hid a book where one of her peers could also find it, once the elders were told, they stormed into the house, immediately confiscated it and kicked Yoomi out of the village. That was the time that she had enough, all of it. Cue scenery all of the bloodshed and brutal deaths, all it took was a village to raise a child and yet they failed. Leading to their ultimate downfall. She left the bodies in a burning pile of flames.

Throughout the months after the bloodshed, Yoomi practiced and honed her magic while surviving in the wild and then learns how to summon portals leading onto other worlds. Travelling to them through her heart's content, escaping from her tragic past. Her presence becomes known either myth or truth as she began to frequently travel across realities, dimensions and universes at will. The word got to Vividalux, a interdimensional coven that's concerned for the well being of the child, offered her recruitment to which she hesitated at first, thinking it was a trick but they were proven innocent and have no ill intention. While she remains exploring the multiverse, she finally got a home to return to.

╰► ✎ ̼ 「 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 」

In general she's quite the whimiscal girl and tends to be very unconventional in all the things she does unintentionally yet so proudly, though she doesn't mind if someone points out, she'd say 'it's just a yoomi thing to do'. She isn't afraid to be kind and loving to others, yet only when they deserve it, so expect some people that aren't under Yoomi's good impressions. Despite her terrible past, her adventurous spirit remains unbroken and steadfast.

There are remnants of her former self from the previous timeline that remains albeit just simply reduced to sheer playful mischief she tends to do. She's so reckless to the point it gets everyone to stay on their feet for how much danger she's gotten into and it's surprising how she's still alive after all these times. She wouldn't mind abusing her benefactors as long as it's from the opposing side as she doesn't see herself harming and betraying those from her side.

╰► ✎ ̼ 「 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 & 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 」

She is still honing and learning how to control her art magic as many witches her age would be, but she has mastered conjuring illusions, spells dealing with the color and its usage in kombat. One must recite in latin and draw out runes for most spells yet there's also that don't need those as well. She needs to sustain her magic via doing artistic activities, if she lacks it, then her magic dies down and it's back to square one but if she overdoses, the magic would burst out of control. It's also emotionally guided, whenever she experiences strong emotions it would manifest via her magic automatically. She can also travel the multiverse via portals (sometimes similar in the barbie as Rapunzel except it's more temporary). Her fighting style is previously somewhat hand to hand combat with some heavy resemblance to Kinamutay, though after being recruited into Vividalux and joining the next gen of Earthrealm's defenders, she's been experimenting with other martial arts and it's constantly morphing nowadays.

Since she grew up homeless, she may know a lot of survival skills while being out in the streets. She likes to junk journal too, since her habit of trinket collecting hasn't been died out. As she was who once was Shang Tsung, expect Yoomi to have the ability to charm people with charisma and confidence as means of getting intel. Her magic was strong enough at some point that it managed to create 10 plushies that were under her control and are also affected by her emotions as well, she's really good at solving different puzzles. She also understands flower and animal symbolism at an expertise extent.

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

'Yoomi Moonstar' isn't her actual real name, her name is Dorothy, but that girl's left to rot with the rest of the bodies she's killed, there remains of who was once called Dorothy is now Yoomi.

As per Vividalux tradition, all witches are given codenames by the time they are official members, hers was 'Mariposa' as to symbolize her creativity.

Was recruited into Vividalux by 8 years old while killing the whole village ordeal all happened when she was 5, crazy I know?

Yoomi gets these random scars occasionally and she doesn't know why until the whole soulmate ordeal. (hint: he's got her marks on his body)

Her legal guardian is Odette Fabora, a loving mother figure and local veteran magical girl from her universe. One of Vividalux's best members in her eyes.

She spends her birthdays alone and cried like a lot when she had her first birthday with the people she loves

The biggest love language is penguin pebbling, always giving someone she loves things that remind her of them <3

She tends to injure herself, so she's often seen having scars and bandages all over her. She's trying to get out of that situation but progress hasn't happened just yet.

She's often doing traditionally masculine tasks while running as one of her coven's errand girls.

She has a bunch of moles on her face that's in the formation of the gemini constellation and has crooked teeth

Has a somewhat heavy tagalog accent since english isn't her first language and not to mention the village she grew up in is isolated from society since the philippines' revolution against the spanish colonizers before the americans came in.

Her favorite food is cheesecake, it's the first dessert she's ever eaten

Has a journal called the buddy book that's filled with info such as their interests, allergies, and birthdays. Things you should know from a friend and such. This is because of her large social circle spanning across the multiverse itself

Tagging: @laismoura-art @theelderhazelnut @running-with-the-feels @bloody-arty-myths @starneko123

#🔮 // ⋆｡°✩ yoomi moonstar #🌠// wondering & wondering...#🐲 // w0nd3rplay's mortal kombat #mortal kombat #mortal kombat oc #mk1 2023 #mk11 #shang tsung

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solemn-marauders · 9 months

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Theadora Gravethorne Lore

"Theadora Gravethorne" was the name that was pinned to her dress when she was found on the orphanage's doorstep, with no memories, at the assumed age of 5. Most everyone calls her "Thea", a small few call her "Thee".

Basic Information

Birthdate: 30th of June.

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

She did not know her date of birth until Professor Fig informed her. I have written out this scene. This also coincides with the canonical event within the game where a strange magical disturbance happened on June 30th the school year before Thea arrives.

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor.

Patronus: Female Thestral.

Wand: Yew wood stained black, Thestral hair core (I have written a lore about how this is possible), 12 inches, Hard.

Animal Companion(s): A male raven named Montgomery, Monty for short, and a female black cat named Sarina.

Amortentia: The scent of an oncoming thunderstorm, the seaside, and a blend of earl grey, books, and singed pine.

Boggart: Undetermined.

Aminagus: Undetermined.

Quidditch Position: Chaser

Appearance

Eye Color: Blue-grey

Hair: Pre-5th year her hair is long, wavy, and dark golden blonde/light golden brown. After every Keeper Trail, and absorption of Ancient Magic, her hair gains streak of pure white. After absorbing the magic in the Repository, the entirety of her hair becomes stark white.

Height: 5'6" (167.64 cm), quite above average for the time period.

Distinguishing Marks: A scattering of moles across her face and body.

Personality

• Brave • Daring • Stubborn • Reckless • Inquisitive • Resilient •

Thea was quiet and kept to herself growing up. Since she didn’t have her previous memories, she had a really hard time with her identity. She didn't speak a word her entire first year at the orphanage.

After completely leaving her comfort zone once she learned of her abilities, those she met at Hogwarts helped to bring her out of her shell. She learns that the wizarding world isn't as stringent as muggle proper society is. She learns that she's actually quite bold (aka sassy) and enjoys a good sense of humor.

She's exceedingly loyal to those who earn her trust, which is difficult to do. For an example, she becomes Sebastian's ride-or-die when he takes the fall for sneaking into the Restricted Section. If you're in Thea's circle of trust, better get comfortable, because she can become quite possessive. She's never had friends before, so the ones she makes she wants to keep forever, as long as there's no betrayal.

She can have a nasty temper. She loathes being the last to know something and she's blown up at the Keepers more than once for their silly games and wasting her time. This temper goes hand-in-hand with her wicked competitive nature. She loves a good challenge; whether it be Gobstones, dueling, Summoner's Court, Quidditch, you name it.

Overall, she's an introvert who is touch-starved and wants to be loved and recognized for the person she is more than anything else.

Likes: Reading, researching (the world of magic is fascinating to her and she wants to know everything), the raspberry pastries with icing the Hogwarts elves make, raspberries in general, dark chocolate Peppermint Toads, flowers (honeysuckle particularly), graveyards, being cared about/for.

Dislikes: Being the last to know things, being made to feel small/stupid, licorice, jump scares.

Background

Was raised in a muggle boarding school for girls who are taught to become governesses or school teachers. It’s located in London, so she grew up in the city.

Her time at the orphanage wasn’t bad. Given that it’s more of a boarding school where orphaned girls can learn skills that can earn them jobs/apprenticeships in the outside world, it’s actually constructive. Also, it has a lot of high society patrons that check in often and certainly want their school to appear the best. A status symbol for sure, but at least it’s benefiting the girls.

Dropped off at the school around the age of 5 with no memory. She was found with a piece of paper that only had a name written on it. We learn later that her memories were suppressed or erased either by potion or spell.

Some of the girls thought her strange, some understood her being withdrawn, and some were jealous. Things seemed to come easily to Thea, like luck was always on her side. When really this “luck” were miniscule demonstrations of her magical abilities. She wouldn’t know about this connection until it’s explained to her. She too, just thought she was lucky with small things.

Was later learned that she spoke proper English and was well-mannered, but she had remained mute for at least the first year at the school.

She already knew how to read and write.

All of the above hinted that she may have belonged to “proper society”. Some of the nuns at the school speculated that she may have been the result of an affair between a member of the peerage and a commoner, and that’s why she was well-educated but eventually abandoned.

She looked well taken care of when they found her on the steps of the school.

Her parents are still alive but it’s MESSY and angsty.

Has two familiars/animal companions. A male raven named Monty and a female black cat named Sarina. Thea found Monty as an abandoned hatchling while at the orphanage and raised him. While at the orphanage, he mostly stays outside but always remains close by. He often brings Thea items; coins, herbs, flowers, etc. She later learns that throughout her life, he had been bringing her items that related to her dormant magical nature; i.e. things that are commonly used in potions or have magical properties.

Sarina just appeared one day and adopted Thea.

Thea will later learn that she is a descendant of the architect of Hogwarts, who in my HC was also an Ancient Magic vessel. (I'm not kidding when I say that I have a whole lore and historical timeline written about Ancient Magic).

Her birth name will be different than the one she knows.

Miriam Fig, in her search for answers about ancient magic, learns about an orphan who may have some sort of connection with/to it.

Miriam visits Thea at the orphanage. Possibly under the guise that she will have a job for her when her schooling is finished or will offer Thea an apprenticeship with her.

Miriam plans to “take on” Thea once she’s old enough. Miriam has deduced through Percival and Isidora that Thea’s powers will come to full manifestation at or around 15 years old. She wants to ease Thea into the Wizarding World and properly prepare her. Unfortunately, she is killed by Ranrok before that happens. Miriam tells Eleazar about Thea before her death. Once Ranrok became a real threat and her search became dangerous, she sends a letter to her husband telling him about Thea and that she’s special and will need him.

Masterlist of Writings and Fanart

#hogwarts legacy #hphl #hogwarts legacy mc #hphl mc #theadora gravethorne #thea #thea gravethorne

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