#crossover hogwarts AU

[usagirln12003]

Tomura Shigaraki: Hogwarts AU

Tomura Shigaraki was a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 4th of April 1965 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1976, being sorted into Slytherin House.

He had a Yew wand with a Dragon Heartstring core.

His Patronus was Non-Corporeal.

His favorite subject was Defense Against the Dark Arts and his least favorite was History of Magic.

Tomura Shigaraki was a very twisted, malevolent, and maliciously warped young man, who was considered to be the polar opposite of Izuku Midoriya. He didn't care for his or almost anyone else's life, having no qualms about performing evil deeds like murdering innocent people. Tomura was initially perceived to be a "man-child": arrogant, selfish, dependent, and demanding, becoming angry if things didn't go his way and likening reality to some sort of game. Unlike his mentor, Tomura lacked subtlety, preferring to eliminate problems through force. Much like a child, Tomura seemed unable to cope with his own feelings, instead lashing out and abusing both others or himself, tearing at his own neck when he becomes frustrated. This particular meltdown stemmed from the abuse he suffered from his father and being alone during his childhood, with All For One claiming that it represented his suppressed urge to kill and destroy. A very irritable person at the beginning of the Izuku's story, Tomura would learn to be more patient and self-controlled in subsequent appearances, as a consequence of multiple failed plans and All For One's arrest.

Tomura was proud of the League of Dark Wizards, wanting to prove that his organization had the necessary power to shake society and taking pleasure in mocking those standing in his way. He didn't tolerate others making light of the League's name and loathed the idea of certain personalities joining him, as was the case with Dabi and Himiko Toga at the beginning, which was made worse by the fact that they were both inspired by Stain, who had previously refused membership and overshadowed Tomura's goals in terms of media exposure after the Diagon Alley Incident. For similar reasons, he looked down on the wizarding mafia for their intentions of ruling the underworld over the League. In the end, however, Tomura was able to set his pride aside in order to do whatever was needed to accomplish his goals, having adopted Stain's ideology to enlist more members to his cause and forming a deal with the mafia for the development of the Magic-Destroying Drug.

Initially, Tomura seemingly caused destruction just for the sake of it and felt directionless about the League's path forward after Stain's arrest. It would take a fateful meeting with Izuku in Hogsmead for him to develop an epiphany and become aware of his true convictions: to crumble hero society through Toshinori Yagi's death. Tomura always had a desire to kill All Might, but out of an impulsive expression of anarchy towards a society that hurt him and caused his mental instability. After hearing from Izuku, Tomura realized that Yagi is what he hated about both Izuku and Stain, wishing to see them, as well as the wizarding society as a whole, lose their Symbol of Peace. Following Yagi's retirement and during the League of Dark Wizards' encounter with the Meta Liberation Army, Tomura's convictions grew from crippling society to completely destroying it, apparently as a result of an innate sense of pain and suffering caused by the past memories of his abuse. By Tomura's own admission, he hated everything that breathes, displaying an extreme form of nihilism.

Despite Tomura's general disgust of life, there were a select number of people he held in high esteem. He had a close relationship with his mentor, All For One, the one person who came to his aid when he found himself alone and lost as a child. Tomura held a great amount of respect and attachment for All For One, always referring to him as "Sensei"/"Master" and being concerned for his well-being. Incidentally, Tomura happened to carry All For One's family name (Shigaraki), which symbolized a relationship close to father and son. Tomura also had Kurogiri as a trusted confidant and adviser, despite treating him harshly at times. Kurogiri's capture was noted to have made Tomura upset as the latter valued the former's company and abilities.

Aside from those two and Kyudai Garaki, who all had a hand in raising him, Tomura initially appeared rather distant towards his other allies in the League, however he did show to care about them in his own ways. He bonded with Spinner over their shared love of muggle video games, to the latter's surprise. He also cared about them enough to prioritize their comfort once he obtained the necessary finances, and became enraged when Overhaul killed Magne and destroyed Mr. Compress' arm. Beforehand, when Kurogiri labelled the other League members as disposable pawns, Tomura corrected him by saying that they are instead valued allies. Tomura displayed both faith in the League's capabilities and trust in them to do right by him and their group, as seen when he confided in Himiko and Twice before appointing them to aid Overhaul (knowing they would intentionally sabotage the Hassaikai from within, even without his orders).

Furthermore, when Himiko questioned Tomura on his newfound goal to destroy everything, he revealed that his allies were exceptions, saying that he always has room for them and their goals while telling them to live life however they see fit. This proves that Tomura had developed a true form of care towards his allies, even if he only seldom showed it. This further set Tomura apart from All For One as he actually had goals and desires beyond himself, and genuinely values his allies, while All For One saw his "friends" as nothing more than disposable tools. His exclamation that he "won't be corrupted" by his master's influence implied that, while Tomura was potentially more dangerous and destructive than All For One, the latter was far more darker and evil for caring about nothing but himself.

As a child, Tenko was shown to be relatively normal, even kind and compassionate. He held a great love for his family and a strong desire to become an auror someday, not unlike Izuku. However, the constant abuse he suffered from his hero-hating father made him psychologically fragile, being terrified of his mere presence. Because of this oppressive upbringing and the inaction from the rest of his family, Tenko felt that his whole family had never been supportive of his desires, becoming increasingly frustrated when the abuse grew worse. Eventually, his magic manifested for the first time, and Tenko's sanity finally snapped, destroying his household and all his family members.

At first, Tomura expressed heavy remorse for accidentally killing his family upon losing control of his newfound magic. The severed hands that Tomura wore all over himself were the only physical remnants of his dead loved ones, and he claimed that they made him feel simultaneously sick and calm. Despite his sadness, Tomura experienced a partial relish in his family's demise since he considered them responsible for letting him suffer at his father's will. Tomura admitted that he felt a cathartic pleasure while ending Kotaro's life as retaliation for his abusive treatment. During his fight against Re-Destro, Tomura overcame his past shackles of guilt after getting his memories back, having used his childhood feelings to further fuel his hatred and becoming even more driven to end society.

Despite his past, however, Tomura held no hatred towards his family. This was shown when he assured his sister in his visions that he wasn't mad at her for framing him and also assured his mother that he was fine while turning back into a child in front of her, proving that a part of Tomura still cared about his family. However, he was willing to reject their pleas in order to continue the pursuit of his evil conquest, telling them not to reject who he had become and showing that he wouldn't let them hinder his goals. Upon meeting his paternal grandmother, Nana, for the first time, he coldly expressed his hatred for her regardless of the circumstances that allowed them to meet.

After becoming one of All For One's horcruxes, as well as the enhancements to his body, Tomura began to show traits similar to that of his master, such as a condescending and mocking demeanor, along with a terror-inducing presence and a desire to steal any magical artifact that piqued his interest, such as the Philosopher's Stone and the Elder Wand. Regardless, he still maintained his nonchalant yet menacing attitude during battle and was capable of showing a savage anger towards his enemies, as demonstrated during his fight against Izuku and Shota Aizawa. Even after having been incinerated and inches away from death, Tomura refused to give up and vowed to destroy the wizarding society that had caused him so much suffering, believing that his sheer power and determination would see him through.

Despite feeling grateful towards All For One, Tomura outright stated to him that he wished to carve his own legacy and become even greater than his master. However, Tomura quickly began to detest All For One after learning that his true goals were to use his body as a vessel and take it over permanently. Tomura even went as far as to try and attack All For One's vestige and later refused to be his master's "pawn" whilst trying to regain control of his body. When he sensed his master's death, Tomura expressed no remorse or sympathy for him, though blamed himself for failing to break Katsuki hard enough. Nonetheless, he was indebted to All For One for raising him and granting him his power, because if it wasn't for him, he wouldn't have become the strongest dark wizard.

As their time sharing the same consciousness continued, Tomura had shown to have entered a state of identity crisis, being unsure of whether or not he was actually Tomura Shigaraki, All For One, or even Tenko Shimura. This was shown to be the result of Tomura and All For One's wills merging together, with the elder Shigaraki summarizing that they would combine to become a new evil entity altogether, with Tomura's hatred accelerating the process. Despite this, Tomura still continued to fight his former master's control, unwilling to let this happen.

By the time of the Final War, Tomura and All For One's minds had nearly melded together as one, creating an entity that featured a mix of Tomura's nihilism and desire to destroy everything, and All For One's will to use his power to rule over all. However, deep within the vestige lies another entity, that of Tomura's previous form as a young Tenko.

During their first encounter in the vestige world, Izuku revealed that he could hear a crying child deep within Tomura, and following the latter's fight against the main auror of the United States, Tenko was shown to be surrounded by an onslaught of hands, thinking about Izuku. During the fight against the light side, Mirio Togata unintentionally caused Tenko's personality to re-emerge after he claimed he didn't have any friends, which Tomura furiously denied, bringing up his childhood friends Mikkun and Tomo, and his pet dog Mon. This suggested that a part of Tomura still wanted to be saved and that his previous scared and lonely self wasn't completely gone.

Despite that, Tomura affirmed that he and Tenko both held the same goal upon reclaiming his body from All For One: the destruction of everything. "Tenko" was representative of his origin that he implanted deep within All For One's vestige as a means of winning back control of himself and the his magic. Even though Tomura acknowledged that a part of him was still in pain, he didn't desire anyone's pity and saw the rest of the world as no different from the abusive house he grew up in, desiring to eradicate everything associated with it while claiming that this would be the only thing that would grant him salvation. He also claimed that he had no desire for the Elder Wand, and that his previous obsession with winning it over was just a forced extension of his master's will, but was still willing to steal it in order to rid himself of Izuku, the only one capable of stopping him.

Tomura also took the opportunity to taunt and mock Izuku during their final battle, being impressed by his opponent's strength, but annoyed that he was holding back and still treating him as a human being despite his desire to decimate Britain. Despite this, he still had his fellow comrades from the League in his mind, having expressed his desire to make the "flattened horizon" that Spinner was looking forward to.

Once Izuku successfully breaks through Tomura's shell of hatred, he gets him to explain his desire for destruction. It's revealed that Tenko and Tomura were one and the same, with Tomura having deluded himself into thinking that he wanted to kill his family because he couldn't understand why he was born that way otherwise. Eventually, he genuinely opened up to Izuku and revealed that he would continue to destroy because he insisted the dark wizards need a hero of their own, in a way showing that Tenko never truly lost his desire to be an auror.

However, Tomura became truly broken when All For One returned and revealed that he had put him under the Imperius Curse when he was a child, and was the one who had orchestrated the events of his birth and upbringing, including encouraging his father's strict attitude, leading to the abuse and misery he suffered in his childhood, and causing the death of his entire family. In his supposed final moments, Tomura remembered everyone he ever hurt as he disintegrated, presumably reflecting upon his own agency when he committed those actions.

Even when all seemed lost for him however, Tomura would be saved from vanishing by his grandmother and later decided to aid Izuku in destroying All For One for good. As his body proceeded to crumble away, Tomura faced Izuku one last time in the vestige world, recounting how he never managed to destroy anything while also admitting that he may have been a crying child after all, possibly accepting that a part of himself as Tenko still exists. Izuku stated that even though he managed to reach Tenko and shatter his hatred, he remained the leader of the League of Dark Wizards to the very end. As a final request, Tomura tells Izuku to let Spinner know that he never gave up on his goal to destroy and even encouraged Izuku and everyone else to do their best while genuinely smiling at him. Yagi surmises that even though Tomura's life couldn't be saved, Izuku still managed to save his soul, allowing him to pass away in peace.

[usagirln120]

Who are the 15 Chosen Ones?

Izuku Midoriya who was destined to defeat All For One.

Satoshi Mochida who was destined to defeat Sachiko Shinozaki.

Makoto Naegi who was destined to defeat Monokuma (who is Junko's father in this AU).

Natsu Dragneel who was destined to defeat his brother Zeref Dragneel.

Hiccup Haddock who was destined to defeat Drago.

Bill Denbrough who was destined to defeat Pennywise.

Tanjiro Kamado who was destined to defeat Muzan Kibutsuji.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng who was destined to defeat Hawk Moth, who's true identity was eventually revealed to be her future father-in-law Gabriel Agreste.

Naruto Uzumaki who was destined to defeat Madara Uchiha.

Luffy D. Monkey who was destined to defeat Teach D. Marshall.

Mike Wheeler who was destined to defeat Henry Creel.

Finney Blake who was destined to defeat Albert Shaw.

Luz Noceda who was destined to defeat Belos.

Ryan Ezrahler who was destined to defeat Silas Vorez.

And Emma (from TPN) who was destined to defeat Peter Ratri.

Just like in the original Harry Potter universe, their roles in defeating the most powerful dark wizards of all time was foretold when the Divination Professor (Bruno Madrigal) was doing the job Interview when he got the prophecy but unlike Trelawney he actually remembered it.

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: Chapter fifteen is finally here! What do you think of the moodboard? Leave a like :) also a quick note, I won't tag anyone who doesn't like the series - I think that's only fair...

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Fifteen ~ Yuletide Shenanigans

Deputy Headmistress McGonagall’s office was smaller than she’d expected, but no less grand. The heavy curtains that framed the window were a proud Gryffindor red, the walls were lined with a tidy display of shelves, and the table was organised and neat. (Y/N) had been sat in a chair beside the desk for almost fifteen minutes, waiting for her escort. She was beginning to get a little impatient.

She had taken to reading the spines on the shelf when the woman in question finally re-entered, followed by Albus Dumbledore himself.

It was the first time she had ever directly met the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and she would remember it well. He looked older up close, and shorter; perhaps the illusion of his height was simply due to the fact that she had only ever seen him standing on the elevated platform in the Great Hall, making speeches and what-not. His robes were dark blues paired with white, and his hands were crossed in front of him, a bone-coloured wand peaking from behind them. But his eyes were what struck her; sharp and keen despite his age, eyes that had seen so much of the world, and looked at her with a practiced gentleness that hid something deeper.

“Thank you for waiting, Miss Addams.” McGonagall said with a kind smile, and (Y/N) could finally pull her eyes away from the headmaster. “Headmaster Dumbledore has come to see that our travel goes smoothly.”

“Our?”

“It would be irresponsible,” Began the headmaster with a smile as (Y/N) grabbed her coat, “to allow you to travel to Hogsmeade unsupervised.” Dumbledore made his way towards the great fireplace, and brought out a small, black cauldron from its mantle.

“Now, grab your things, dear.” Said McGonagall with a gesture as she approached the unlit fire.

(Y/N) did as she was asked, taking her travel-sized case in one hand and the bat cage that contained a disgruntled young cat in the other, her long black coat draped over her arm. When she followed the woman, she’d expected her to head towards the door, but it seemed the professor had another exit in mind.

“You may be unfamiliar with Floo travel, I presume?” McGonagall asked as she took a handful of grey-green ash from the small cauldron in the headmaster’s hand. (Y/N) nodded and the deputy-headmistress gave her a reassuring smile. “Not to worry, just repeat after me.” She bid a short farewell to Dumbledore, took (Y/N)'s bat cage in hand, and then stepped into the blackened hearth, the top of her hat bending against the entrance. “The Hog’s Head Inn.” She articulated, and with a drop of ash and a flash of green smoke, (Y/N) was awed to see no sign of her Transfiguration teacher at all.

“Now you, Miss Addams.” Dumbledore encouraged and held out a hand for her to shake, then held out the cauldron. “Simply say where you’d like to go and throw the Floo powder at your feet.”

Stepping into the heath with her things in one hand and a fistful of green ash in the other, (Y/N) took a breath and followed the instructions. And in a flash of green smoke, she felt the floor disappear.

When the smoke cleared, the first thing she noticed was the warm light that filled the room. The second, and most welcome, was the scent of harsh sulphur being replaced with cigar smoke. There was only one person she knew that carried cigars with them at all times.

“Cucarachita!” Within seconds, (Y/N) was pulled into the enthusiastic embrace of her father, hugging her so tightly that she almost couldn’t breathe. “Oh, you have been missed.”

“I missed you too, Papa.” She replied, though her voice was muffled through the fabric of his blazer.

After nearly a whole ten seconds, her father finally pulled back to look at her, holding her at arms length to take her in. (Y/N) looked him over, too; his hair was combed back with his potent black cream, his moustache freshly trimmed, and he was wearing a new vest – brown, red, and black (of course) knitted wool, to keep him warm in the freezing Scottish winter. “(Y/N),” he said after a moment, with a gleam in his eye, “what are they feeding you? You’re taller already!”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and pushed him away, tugging on the hem of her turtle-kneck. “You’re exaggerating, Father.”

Gomez only laughed and patted her head (much to her disapproval), but was soon distracted by a hand snaking up his arm. “Don’t go keeping her all to yourself now, mon cher.” Her mother interrupted, now standing beside him and getting a good look at her eldest daughter.

“Oh, of course not, cara mia.” Her father replied as he took his wife’s elegant hand into his hold and began pressing kisses into her pale skin.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes – she’d only been there for a minute and already they were all over each other. “Father, please.” She groaned, seeing McGonagall standing to the side with wide eyes. “Can’t you keep your hands off each other for five minutes?”

“If history is any indication – no.” The drab voice of her little sister came from behind, almost startling her (she must have been practising her lurking).

The sisters shared a look, an agreement that they had much to discuss later – in private. “Wednesday,” (Y/N) nodded, receiving a nod back; they hadn’t the most affectionate relationship.

It seemed the greetings just kept coming; Pugsley slammed himself into her for a quick (but extremely tight) hug, Grandmama pinched her cheeks, Lurch smiled and groaned warmly, and even Thing seemed to have missed her with how he ran up to squeeze her shoulder (conveniently, while McGonagall wasn’t looking).

“Well, now that we’re all settled,” Said the deputy headmistress kindly as they all gathered on the couches in the guest sitting room, “I presume that (Y/N) will be spending the holiday here with you?”

“Of course, if she’d like to.” Morticia replied from her seat beside the older woman. “Though, she did mention how she wanted to stay at Hogwarts to keep her friend company.”

“Oh, I see,” McGonagall replied with a hint of confusion, “and who would that be--?”

“—Speaking of Hogwarts!” (Y/N) interrupted quickly, hoping she hadn’t sounded too obviously suspicious. “Wednesday was just telling me how much she wishes she could see it. Right, Wednesday?” She emphasised with a hard look and a subtle nudge.

Wednesday cleared her throat and put down the teacup from her lips, taking the hint. “Right, yes. I said that.” She nodded along, looking to the adults with as much sincerity as she could. “We’d all like to visit.”

“Oh! Can we?” Pugsley enthusiastically asked with a wide grin, sitting up straighter on the floor and staring excitedly at the woman.

“A superb idea!” Their father agreed, leaning forward as well. “What do you say, Professor?

“Yes,” Morticia smiled softly, “it would be so wonderful to see where our daughter stays. Would that be possible, Professor McGonagall?”

McGonagall seemed awfully put on the spot, placing her teacup back on the table to fold her hands in her lap. “Well, it’s perfectly reasonable, I suppose.” She began. “But I would have to discuss it with Headmaster Dumbledore first…”

“I thought you were the deputy headmistress.” Wednesday said slyly. “You need his permission to let us see (Y/N)’s new home?”

McGonagall pursed her lips, not easily fooled, it seemed. “He is the headmaster, Miss Addams. He must be notified on all things that go on in his school.”

“Well then, you can tell him all about it when we get there.” Said Granmama as she rose from her chair by the fire to grab her shawl. “Now, show us that disappearing trick, will you?” She demanded as she walked over to the empty hearth from which they entered. Crazy or not, Grandmama was good at getting her way.

With a composed sigh, McGonagall stood and accepted the insistence. “No need, Ms Addams, I will arrange for a carriage.” She relented, and swiftly left the room to find the owner.

Wednesday and (Y/N) exchanged small smirks as their family discussed among themselves, satisfied with the outcome. So far, everything was going according to plan.

From the moment they stepped out of the carriage, the whole Addams family had hardly stopped gasping, pointing, complimenting, and displaying all other signs of awe – even Wednesday could hardly stop looking at every exquisite feature of the castle. (Y/N) was much reminded of her first day, which already seemed so long ago; she too had been so entranced by Hogwart’s beauty, just the same. From the entrance courtyard covered in snow, all the way to the Headmaster’s office, and down again to the Great Hall, every Addams had enjoyed the tour greatly.

A few students lingered at the dining tables, playing games and talking and what-not, but had quickly been distracted by the entrance of the infamous Addams clan. (Y/N) could already smell the reek of growing gossip and rumours.

“This is Hagrid, Hogwart’s groundskeeper,” McGonagall introduced as they came to a halt at the staff table, where a giant of a man was sat talking with Flitwick, who looked all the more short beside him, “and Professor Flitwick, our Charms teacher.”

“Very nice to meet you,” her father smiled as he shook each of their hands, “Gomez Addams.”

“What a surprise,” Said Professor Flitwick as Morticia gave him her hand next, followed by Grandmama.

“An intriguing subject.” Her mother complimented sweetly. “Tell me, Professor, how is our daughter doing in your class?”

“Well, yes, very well.” He replied, nodding at (Y/N). “Always finishes her work, hands her homework in on time. And a fast learner – much potential.”

The approval warmed her cold heart.

“So, Mr Hagrid,” her father began, “groundskeeper, eh? Good job.”

The large man agreed and smiled, and (Y/N) thought it much a shame that they had never really met. “That it is, Mr Addams. An ‘ard job, but a goodun. Always summin’ to be done.”

Now that a sufficient amount of small talk had been had, Professor McGonagall drew attention back to their reason for coming. “Hagrid, I was hoping that you might give our guests a tour of the school.”

“Oh aye, o’course I would.” Hagrid agreed and made his way around the table, startled for a second to find himself only a foot taller than Lurch.

“Marvelous.” Said McGonagall. “I have much to be getting on with, it was very nice to meet you.” She shook their hands and bid them farewell, leaving them in the safe care of the groundskeeper.

“And ‘ere we ‘ave the library.” Hagrid announced as they entered the grand room, yet again stunning the family with its sheer enormity.

“Impressive.” Gomez nodded as he looked up at the tall ceiling, and greeted the librarian at her desk.

Grandmama shrugged. “I’ve seen bigger.”

“You have not.” Pugsley insisted, only to be shushed.

The group walked further in, talking with the groundskeeper pleasantly. When they had seen enough, they turned to leave for the long walk to the Gallery. It was then that the two sisters seized the opportunity to fall behind.

“This way.” (Y/N) whispered after their family left, guiding the younger girl further into the library. They hurried quietly, unsure of how long it would be before their family noticed their absence – or worse, they were caught by Pince.

Soon they came to the back of the library, where they stood before the dimly lit windows that hid more books from their reach. “What’s this?” Wednesday asked.

“The Restricted Section.” (Y/N) replied, walking along further until she found the locked entrance. “I heard Hermione talking about it, she said it’s kept locked at all times. But I figured, even if there’s magic to get in the way, it’s nothing you can’t get through. You’re the best lock-pick I know.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment,” Wednesday said as she took a few tools from her coat pocket and knelt down to the lock.

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) turned to keep look-out from the shadow of a bookcase. “It wont happen again.”

Without a moment to spare, Wednesday inserted her tools into the keyhole and got to work, carefully picking away at the inside mechanics. With any regular lock, she would have had it open in less than a minute, but it seemed this one was proving stubborn.

“The stupid thing is cheating.” She grumbled as she inserted a third pin and tried to work them all at once.

(Y/N) glanced from around the corner, seeing no movement for some minutes now. “How so?”

“Every time I make some progress, it goes and reverses it again.” Wednesday explained through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) might have replied with something helpful, if she hadn’t spotted Pince pushing the return cart in their direction, stopping every so often to place some books away. “Hurry up, Pince is coming.” She stressed, hoping to Hell that the librarian had no need to travel so far, and that the rumours of her superhuman hearing were simply rumours.

“I’m trying.”

“Well try faster.”

“Would you like to take over? Because I’ll stop if you want.” Wednesday sassed, and (Y/N) bit her tongue before she made true on her word.

With every step closer Pince took, (Y/N) could feel her heart pacing faster – if she got caught, would she be expelled? Because she didn’t think she could handle the shame.

Pince was just two cases away when (Y/N) heard a quiet mechanical click and a sigh from her sister. “It’s open.”

“Great, now we have to go.” She replied, ignoring Wednesday’s protest as she yanked her up and pulled her around the side of the bookcase, narrowly escaping Pince’s sight.

“What are you doing? We could have gone in.” Wednesday whispered furiously as she was dragged against her will towards the library doors.

“Not without being seen – there’s no way Pince would’ve missed that. And we don’t even know if the door creaks!” (Y/N) argued as they finally made it to the hallway. “If we were caught, it would have all been over. I’m not risking it.”

A few paces away from the turn into the next hallway, Wednesday finally pulled her arm out of her sister’s grasp and hid her pins safely back inside her pocket. “Then when are we going back?”

(Y/N) shook her head and buttoned up her cardigan, then held a finger up to her lips as they passed through the Gallery Hall, extremely aware of the keen ears of the portraits and how they loved to gossip. “We aren’t. I’ll sneak in after curfew--”

“—I want to go in too!” Wednesday argued, only to be shushed as (Y/N) pointed towards the portraits again. She clearly hadn’t expected them to be alive.

“The only time I can sneak in is after curfew, and you’ll be staying at the inn.” (Y/N) explained, and hurried her along to find the others as quickly as they could before she could argue much more.

(Y/N) did wish that Wednesday could go with her; breaking and entering wasn’t half as much fun alone. And she felt a little guilty that there wasn’t any more she could do. But perhaps a peek at the Necromancy book would cheer her up. If not, she wouldn’t be hearing the end of this for a very long time.

The Hog’s Head was a fine establishment; from the crooked ashen pillars of the entrance to the narrow wooden hallways of the rooms. The Addamses spent their first afternoon together in the main lounge of the pub, sharing a creaky wooden table by a large window. It was a wonderful atmosphere. There were a few dozen people dotted about, eating and drinking and laughing – a few were playing card games and losing money, some smoking large pipes, and the odd couple making dodgy deals concealed by the shadows. There were few odd decorations for the season, wilting wreaths and dried up pine garlands with more needles on the floor than the branches. Drinks were refilled constantly, and the food was hearty (though (Y/N) was surprised to realise she much preferred the food at Hogwarts), and the conversation was endless. This was how they spent their Sunday, all the way through the day until late night.

(Y/N) was retelling the events of the Quidditch match, sparing no details missed in the letter she’d sent home after, and they listened with great interest and occasional laughs.

“...So I followed her all the way to the teachers’ stands, and she tells me that it’s Snape whose responsible for Harry’s broom trying to knock him off.” She explained, her fruitcake long forgotten in front of her. “So I took out my matches – because you know I always carry matches-” her family nodded and agreed with variations of ‘of course’ and ‘obviously’ “-and I tried to light his cloak on fire. But the stupid thing was damp, so Hermione gets out her wand and does this spell I’ve never even heard before, and it just goes up in flames – of course, I’d already warmed it up for her. Then there’s shrieks and stomping, and we run all the way down to the bottom in time for the end of the game.”

Her father let out a deep laugh, and beamed at his daughter. “Excellent story!”

Grandmama cackled along and held her mead up in a toasting gesture. “Good girl – always good to have a friend who’ll start fires with you.”

“We’re looking forward to meeting her,” her mother said. “Have you made any more friends?”

“Well, there’s Saoirse – she’s my roommate.”

“What about enemies?” Wednesday interrupted, swirling her drink around in her cup as she feigned disinterest. “Tell me you at least have one of those.”

Enemy may have been a strong word; there were certainly those she didn’t care for, but she hadn’t been fortunate enough to find someone really worth torturing. “There are plenty of unlikeable people to choose from,” (Y/N) said instead, “the potions professor, for a start – and that obnoxious Malfoy boy. But so far I haven’t found one worth the time.”

Grandmama seemed to pick her head up from her potent drink at whatever (Y/N) had said, something certainly had caught her interest. She wrapped her ratty black shawl around her and leaned across the table to shush Gomez, who had started speaking of his favourite nemesis from his own school years. “Malfoy?” She repeated, her croaky voice taking an edge to the name as a scowl came across her wrinkled features.

(Y/N) nodded in confusion, eager to know what her grandmother had to say on the matter – whatever had her mouth twisting. “What about him, Grandmama?”

To their surprise (but, frankly, not shock), the woman spat at the mention. “What about him? It was them Malfoys that wanted us outed!”

“What are you talking about?” Said Wednesday, just as interested as everyone else, but bored of waiting for her to get to the point already.

Grandmama sat back in her chair, the wood creaking quietly at the movement. “We Addamses were a part of the Sacred Twenty-nine, you know? The pure families, they called themselves. We were as worthy as any of them – more, even – but they were jealous. That’s what Mother always said. Jealous of our money and our power.” From her pocket, Grandmama pulled out a brown smoking pipe and a tin of smoking tabacco and herbs, which she stuffed in as she spoke, then let Thing light it for her when she was done. She took a few puffs before she returned to her story. “When the family started birthing Squibbs, it was them who wanted us out – the Malfoys and the Blacks. Called us ‘tainted’ and ‘impure’. They’re the reason we were outcasted. Said they couldn’t be associated with us. Said our families couldn’t mix. Said a lot of things, but it worked. Then it was the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

There was a pause when she was done, tobacco and mugwort wafting in the stale air as the family considered her words. It seemed to (Y/N) that there was still plenty that she had yet to reveal about their family’s past; still so much to learn.

It also seemed to her, that there was more to the Malfoys than money and misplaced pride.

For two beautifully sullen days, all thoughts of school and mysteries had vacated (Y/N)’s mind. There were no ghostly messages, no age-old notes, and no suspicious books at the bottom of her travel case. She shared a room with her siblings, ate with her family as they would back home, go for walks in the freezing snow and hail, and lurk around the town looking for things to do.

It was three in the afternoon, the sky was grey with winter clouds, and the children were playing in the street, throwing compact ice-balls at each other (and the occasional pedestrian who dared get caught in the cross-fire). There were no rules in an ice-ball fight, a winner was only established when all other players had to forfeit; injuries were guaranteed.

The two sisters had cruelly decided to work together against their little brother, leaving him vulnerable on both sides. As they often were when they worked as a team, the girls were formidable and relentless, meaning Pugsley’s only choice was to run and hide, dodging hand-pressed wedges of ice from every angle. It was a dog-eat-dog game; as soon as the runt was out of the picture, they would turn on each other.

They spotted Pugsley run between a crowd of shoppers as they were making more ammo, and quickly followed in his direction. Pugsley’s small boots made half-sized footprints in the snow, and they easily followed them to an alley. Wednesday peaked around the corner and saw that it lead to a ten-foot – the narrow backstreet behind two rows of houses where the bins were kept. “Go to the other side and block his path.” She mumbled and threw one end of her grey scarf around her shoulder. “I want him cornered.”

The girls shared a mischievous look, and (Y/N) nodded before running down the street to find the other end of the ten-foot. Eight houses later, she came to the opening and peeked around the side. She saw Wednesday at the other end, and they both started down each side, looking behind every item that Pugsley could use for cover, until (Y/N) spotted a footprint in the snow a few meters away. With a predatory stare, she creeped forward even more quietly, her footsteps barely crunching the snow, until she just saw the tail of a black coat behind a bin. Wednesday saw her stop, and came forward with her weapon raised, following the footprints until they were just a few steps from his hiding place. “Pugsley.” Wednesday called in a taunting voice. “We know you’re there.”

There was no sound from behind the bin, and if it weren’t for the coat and his tracks, (Y/N) might have doubted for a second if he was there. “You might as well come out now.” She said from the other side, wielding her own ice-ball. “Surrender while you can.”

“I’m not surrendering!” They heard, and (Y/N) could hardly help the evil smile that broke loose on her lips at the slight tremble of fear Pugsley tried to hide under his stubborn determination.

“You’re small and weak,” said Wednesday, “you’re not going to win. We overpower you in both numbers and size. This is your last chance to give up.”

There was a pause. For a moment, they thought he might actually surrender, but then (Y/N) saw movement from the side. “He’s sneaking past!” She warned, and the girls started to chase him back the way they’d followed him. Wednesday cursed as her ice-ball barely made it half the distance to her target – the kid was swift and full of energy, much to her chagrin – but he turned to look over his shoulder for a second, which slowed him a little. (Y/N) stopped quickly and threw the ice she was carrying as hard as she could in his direction; it flew with precision for a longer distance than she’d expected, but landed perfectly just as he turned around. Bullseye.

Pugsley fell back with a yell as the ice hit him right on his forehead, knocking him off balance just as Wednesday caught up and threw all the rest of her ammo at him while he blocked his face from more damage. “Stop! Stop! You got me!” The boy cried as his sister pelted more snow and ice at him.

When (Y/N) reached them, Wednesday had Pugsley pinned with a knee on his chest as she compressed another ice-ball. “Admit defeat.” She demanded and raised her weapon up.

Pugsley hesitated, a defiant stare on his face even as his sister kneed him harder in the chest.

“Say it.”

The boy sighed and sank his head back into the snowy ground, eyeing her ice-ball wearily. “Wednesday is superior and I am weak.” He groaned – she had him say it every time she beat him, and he hated it more and more each time.

“Good.” She said, then threw the ice at him anyway before she stood.

“Hey!” He yelled as it hit him in the cheek. “Cheat!”

Wednesday dusted herself off and shrugged carelessly. “You let your guard down.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” (Y/N) smirked as she leant a hand to her little brother, observing the new red marks on his face (she couldn’t help but feel a little proud at the bruise growing above his brow where she’d hit him). “Mother and Father want us back for dinner soon – we’ll still need time to clean up.”

"Why does she always make me say that?" Pugsley grumbled as he rubbed his sore cheek.

"Don't worry about it, Pugsley," (Y/N) assured, "one day you'll beat her, and it'll feel a whole lot better when you make her say it instead."

A second later, she felt a harsh hit on her shoulder, and pieces of ice and snow sprayed across her face. (Y/N) turned quickly to glare at her sister’s audacity, curling her fist in anger. “You are a cheat!” She scolded.

“And a winner.” Wednesday almost smiled, clearly proud of herself. “Now, what do you say?”

“I am not saying it.” She answered back, facing the girl fully and glaring daggers down at her (there was barely two inches between them, but (Y/N) was sure to always hold it above her). “Besides, only a coward shoots someone in the back.”

Wednesday squinted her eyes. “I’m not a coward – I shot you in the shoulder.”

“How about I shoot you in the face?”

A throat was cleared from beside them, and all three siblings turned at the intrusion.

Grandmama gave a croaky laugh at their antics. “I heard your squabbling from the inn.” She said with a half-grin, pointing the end of her walking stick at them. “You know, when I was your age, we used to shoot at each other with real weapons.” She sighed nostalgically. “Must get you some one day. Well – time to go in now, go on.” She encouraged with a poke at their legs, before she shuffled along after them, using her stick to be sure she wouldn’t slip on any ice.

The morning sun was peaking in through the inn’s dirty, frosted windows and between the edges of the old browning drapes, slowly waking its inhabitants from their slumber. (Y/N) ignored it for a while, turning in her lumpy bed and away from the pesky sunlight that interrupted her sleep. All was silent.

For a moment.

Just as she was about to drift back into unconsciousness, a sudden weight pushed down on the mattress and bounced her body about. “(Y/N)! Wake up!” Pugsley cried as he bounced on his knees, shaking her shoulder with both hands to be sure she couldn’t ignore him. “Wake up!”

“Go away.” She grumbled and kicked him from under the duvet, satisfied when he tumbled loudly to the cold, wooden floor. It didn’t seem to stop him for long, though, as he stood and shook her about once more.

“Get up!” He yelled, growing more frustrated as he then crossed the room to throw a pillow at Wednesday (it was wise to keep a safe distance from her).

Wednesday’s eyes shot open and glared at him immediately, already in a foul mood as she took the pillow and launched it at his face, making him wince as it struck his new bruise. “You insufferable little troll – shut up before I stuff that pillow down your throat.”

“It’s Christmas!” Pugsley cried, unaffected by his sister’s (very possible) threat. He ran to grab the robe from the end of his bed and quickly pushed his arms through the sleeves, then shoved on his slippers and made for the door.

(Y/N) sat up and rubbed her eyes, finally awake enough for the information to process. “Pugsley,” she called as he’d stepped into the hallway, “don’t wake Mother and Father, remember. Knock.”

A haunted look passed over the boy’s face for a half-second, before he quickly nodded and went on his way.

(Y/N) sat up and yawned, her breath fogging up in the chilly room. She could hardly believe how quickly time had passed already; but excitement bubbled in her gut nonetheless. Tugging on her own slippers and wrapping herself in her plum-coloured robe, she scooped Jinx up from where he had been sleeping in the warm space between the duvet and her pillows, and made her way to her sister.

Wednesday was laid back again, arms crossed over her chest in her usual corpse-like pose and braids tucked under her head. Her dark eyes opened as (Y/N) approached. Neither girl said anything for a moment, until eventually Wednesday rolled her eyes and began to get out of bed, just in time to hear Pugsley running down the stairs with Thing trailing behind.

There were no other guests staying at The Hog’s Head for the occasion, so the family had decided to rent out a sitting room. The inn’s owner had a uniquely decorated pine tree stood in the corner, covered in cracked baubles and ratty ribbons, and topped with the decapitated head of a porcelain doll with pink cheeks and a missing eye. The fire was lit too, but not roaring, making the room comfortable but not warm. A spider crawled along the wall towards the window, where it spun a web of its own design; (Y/N) briefly wondered how it had lived into the winter, but quickly decided that it was unimportant. It all looked wonderfully wrong.

“Good morning, girls.” Their mother greeted from a chair, making the other few present turn towards the entrance. She looked as put together as always, in her velvet black robe that trailed the floor, with a look of contentment on her grey and white dusted features. “Did you have sweet nightmares?”

Wednesday moved to the sofa by the tree, where Thing was patiently tapping a finger on the arm, waving at her as she sat. “I dreamt of nothing.” She stated with a hint of boredom, then turned to eye the boxes of gifts sat under the dying plant beside her. She took up conversation with the hand, focusing on his rapid movements and spelling.

Morticia looked to her eldest daughter for her answer, who placed the cat in her arms on the back of the chair by the fire and sat. “And you, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Mother,” she replied, “I had very interesting nightmares.” In the excitement of the morning, she had almost forgotten about the strange dreams that had tortured her sleep. She dreamed of drowning in thousands of library books; of dark figures lurking in corners; of a haggard old crow that did nothing but stare; of storms and riddles and corpse voices that gave unintelligible instructions. For a few days, she had simply been a girl spending the winter holidays with her family, and with one haunting dream, she was once again reminded of a responsibility that she did not want.

“How lovely,” her mother replied, then was soon distracted by the entrance of her husband.

Donned in his black and red robe, Gomez Addams had the incredibly important duty of bringing the perfect morning coffee to his wife – a duty he took very seriously. Before affording distractions to anything else, he set the tray on the table beside her and poured the scalding drink from the teapot into a dainty teacup and handed it over. “There, Tish. Dangerously hot and lightly sweetened with cyanide, just how you like it.” He smiled as she took a sip, then sat beside her and kissed her knuckles. “Just how I like you.”

The three children screwed up their faces and shared a look of disgust, but said nothing. It was one thing that (Y/N) had not missed about her parents.

Grandmama was the last to enter, shuffling over to drop herself down onto the last remaining seat as Lurch brought over her usual morning tea. Soon, everyone was greeted and comfortable, and Pugsley was finally able to ask for his gifts.

Gomez laughed heartily and nodded. “Go ahead, my boy.” He said, and with that, the three siblings sat themselves on the floor and began to rummage for their names.

Pugsley was the first to find his name, and wasted no time in opening the box to find a grotesque shrunken head. He took it in his hands excitedly to examine it closer, poking at the string that bound together its lips and eyelids.

Wednesday unwrapped what looked at first to be a chemistry set, but upon close inspection found to be filled with various poisonous herbs and suspicious fluids. Though she didn’t show it as expressively as Pugsley, she was clearly very pleased with it.

(Y/N) tore at black and white paper and revealed a box, from which she pulled a half-decomposed, rotting hand on a flat wooden stand – the one from Borgin and Burke’s. “I’d almost forgotten about this.” She smiled at her father, who looked very proud of himself at her reaction. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Cucarachita.” He replied as he pulled a cigar and lighter from his pocket. “I’m sure you will find good use for it."

Much too quickly for their liking, the children finished unwrapping their gifts and sat on the floor admiring their many new possessions. Pugsley was playing with the shrunken head and a large taxidermy rat, (Y/N) was stabbing at the space between her fingers on the floor with her new gold-tipped throwing knife, and Wednesday was reading through the copy of Arachnomancy that (Y/N) had ‘borrowed’ from the library for her.

The family feasted in the pub downstairs, enjoying the busy environment of strangers eating and drinking for the special occasion, getting rowdy and arguing or playing unrecommendable games – it was much different from their usual traditions, but it was good. In fact, it wasn’t all that different from one of their larger family gatherings, with the shouting, the music, and the occasional object being thrown across the room.

And as they settled back into the sitting room for the evening, talking tiredly as Lurch finished up the last details of their family portrait, (Y/N) sat on the floor and leaned back into her mother’s legs, letting her long nails comb through her hair as she stared off into the dying fire.

For one more night, she had nothing to worry about.

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[slytherizz]

"Boy Pretty. Head Empty." - Sebastian Sallow, 1890s (probably)

[icy-plum]

Hogwarts Legacy AU in Dune: Sebastian as Paul and Ominis as Chani

Thought about these two when I watched Dune2 earlier this month, especially the part when Chani was displeased about Paul

I wonder which character in Dune fits MC the most🤔

p.s. I’ve given up finishing the drawing so imma just post it 🥲

[sailorgoon13]

Vash Stampede

Basics:

Full Name: Vash Stampede

Nickname: Vash, Blondie

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 15 December, 1871

Heritage: American

Blood Status: Muggle Born

Wand: Rowan wood, 11 3/4", Dragon Heartstring, Slightly Springy. Prefers to use his revolvers

Appearance:

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Skin Tone: Fair

Height: 6ft

Body Type: Lean and athletic

Style: Rugged, Eccentric

Features: Messy blonde hair, Blue eyes, Mysterious smile, Freckle on left cheekbone. Always has his red coat and revolvers

Personality:

Traits: Optimism, Compassion, Morality, Playful, Courageous

Likes: Donuts, "Love and Peace", Comedy, Nature, Helping others

Dislikes: Violence, Loneliness, Tragedy, Harm to the Innocent

Hobbies: Exploring, Stargazing, Spending time with friends

Fears: The unknown, Losing control, Failure, Harming Others, Being Alone

Family and Friends:

Father: Muggle (Unknown)

Mother: Muggle (Unknown) Siblings: A few muggle siblings (Unknown) Twin brother Nai, also a wizard and shares rare ability with Vash

Friends: Rory Wilder, Garreth Weasley, Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian Sallow

Magic:

Special Abilities: Can wield and use Ancient Magic

Boggart: His darker self

Patronus: Phoenix

Polyjuice: Glints of gold and silver flecks would shimmer in a rich amber color. Taste like wild berries and honey followed by a warm, spicy kick of cinnamon and cloves. The aftertaste would linger with a hint of smokiness

Amortentia: Fresh Rain, Gunpowder, Vanilla and Sage

Backstory:

Vash's backstory is a captivating yet heartbreaking tale. Born into a destitute Muggle family alongside his twin brother Nai, they were the only ones in their large brood to possess magical abilities. At the age of eight, their parents, unable to comprehend or cope with their uniqueness, callously cast them out into the streets to fend for themselves. Facing the harsh reality of homelessness, Vash and Nai clung to each other for support, relying on their wits to survive the unforgiving streets. In a stroke of fate, Vash obtained a stolen revolver, providing a semblance of protection for himself and his brother amidst the perilous urban landscape.

Their fortunes took a pivotal turn when they received letters of acceptance from Ilvermorny at the age of eleven, granting them a chance to harness their magical potential. At school, they quickly distinguished themselves, drawing the attention of Professor Rem Saverem, their History of Magic instructor, who took them under her wing. Professor Saverem became a mother to the orphaned boys, offering them guidance and nurturing their burgeoning talents in a nurturing environment.

Despite their shared upbringing, Vash and Nai took divergent paths in their magical education. While Vash reveled in camaraderie and levity, earning a reputation as the class clown, Nai excelled academically, driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and power. Tensions between the brothers escalated when Nai sought forbidden knowledge to further enhance his abilities, leading to a confrontation that ultimately ended in tragedy. Nai's descent into darkness culminated in a catastrophic act of violence, leaving devastation in his wake.

In the aftermath of the tragedy, Vash found himself ostracized and scrutinized by authorities, his academic performance suffering as a result. Faced with the threat of expulsion and the loss of his magical privileges, he was sent to Hogwarts in a last-ditch effort to salvage his education. It's at Hogwarts where Vash encounters Aurora 'Rory' Wilder, another wielder of ancient magic, and together they embark on a quest to thwart Nai's nefarious plans and prevent further catastrophe.

Haunted by his past and burdened by the weight of responsibility, Vash struggles to find redemption amidst the chaos unleashed by his brother's actions. Yet, fueled by a newfound sense of purpose and the bonds forged with his allies, he remains determined to confront his demons and fight for a brighter future.

Academics:

Best Subject: Muggle Studies

Favorite Subject: DADA

Favorite Professor: Professor Hecat

Worst Subject: Ancient Runes

Least Favorite Subject: Transfiguration

Least Favorite Professor: Professor Shah

Student Life:

Vash initially struggles academically. He is very smart but doesn't always like to apply himself

Despite the challenges he faces, he forms meaningful friendships with his fellow students.

Throughout his student life, Vash grapples with moral dilemmas and inner turmoil stemming from his past and the actions of his brother. He wrestles with questions of guilt, redemption, and the nature of good and evil, struggling to find his place in a world that often judges him based on his family history.

Template: @hazyange1s

[nicoathogwarts]

Every second of every day he could almost hear his friend’s heart beats. When he was young it’d been Bianca’s and his mother's constantly beating in the very back of his mind. But as he got older, as he gained friends that list grew. Sometimes it shrank, as was the life of a demigod.

Monitoring life was easy, if he wanted, he could reach in and examine one of his friends further, really listen to their heartbeat and see if it was going too slow or fast. It’d come in handy more than a few times when helping Will in the infirmary.

Feeling someone die was like jumping into an ice cold lake. Pulling a rubber band as far as it can stretch, until it breaks, and your finger sings before you can register that it snapped.

For a fraction of a second Nico dies with them. His heart stops, he can't breathe. For a fraction of a second the world stands still.

He still remembered gasping for breath when he felt Bianca dying, he hadn’t known what it meant. He hadn’t known until Percy had come to camp with a grim look on his face and delivered the news.

He'd watched Leo shoot into the sky, heart beating so fast and loud he couldn't ignore it. He couldn't tell when the anxiety from watching it all happen had ended and Leo's death had begun. He hadn't been able to breathe, the world had stood still for what felt like a millennia.

Why did Jason have to die during fucking herbology? Why not late at night when everyone was sleeping or when Nico was tucked away in some corner of the castle away from prying eyes?

No, instead Nico had been grabbing a pot from a shelf to carry over to his spot when he’d felt it.

He stopped, the world didn’t. The pot slipped out of his hands and shattered on the floor. Every plant within a yard of Nico withered and died. The air turned fringed as his mind tried to register that his best friend had just died.

I have to tell Thalia.

Professor Sprout set a hand gently on his shoulder, looking concerned. “Mr. di Angelo, you look a little pale, perhaps you should go to the hospital wing.” She said softly, guiding him towards the door of the greenhouse.

As soon as the door shut behind him everyone began whispering.

The story spread fast.

“It was like a dementor was in the greenhouse! I could see my breath it was so cold!”

“Every plant in the greenhouse died! It’s the most terrifying bit of accidental magic I’ve ever seen!”

But the mist worked faster.

“He dropped a pot and cut his hand so Sprout sent him to Pomfrey.”

“What? No that’s ridiculous, a window was open and there was a cold breeze. Who told you that rubbish about dementors?”

"Sprout told me that some of the plants were sick. They didn't all die. Do you really think that accidental magic of all things could kill an entire greenhouse worth of plants?"

[versailles-black]

Hogwarts Legacy/Little mermaid AU with my MC and Ominis Gaunt 🧜🏻‍♀️

With Omi being blind he can easily remember MC’s singing voice when she saved him, making this AU so good also their clothes are 1890’s fashion inspired.

[dark-elf-writes]

So I see you've reblogged the new AU struggle post 4 times in a row... mind sharing the new AU with the class?

It’s not a full au yet but I am kicking around an idea for a hp/pjo crossover potentially one with Percy and Harry being raised as brothers where they go to camp at the same time (Harry is ten to Percy’s twelve for reasons) but with Harry being the son of a minor goddess he doesn’t get claimed when Percy does only to find out some children of Hecate and their bloodlines have a secret society complete with a school so Harry is going from secret summer camp to secret school and PLEASE could people just stop making prophecies for five seconds?

[usagirln12003]

Vinsmoke Sanji: Hogwarts AU

Sanji Vinsmoke is a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 2nd of March 1978 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1989, being sorted into Gryffindor House.

He has a Poplar wand with a Phoenix Feather Core.

His Patronus is a Mountain Goat.

His favorite subject is Potions and his least favorite subject is History of Magic.

He was one of the Gryffindor Prefects of his year.

One of Sanji's most easily noticeable characteristics is the kind, calm, cool, and collected manner in which he carries himself. He tends to speak in a very composed manner, even in dire situations, and rarely acts without thinking. His demeanor in a lot of ways can be compared to that of a secret agent. This is amplified by the fact that he very often enjoys a smoke. He quite often makes comedic exceptions to this, such as when in the presence of beautiful women, or when angered by a friend.

Like Zoro, he is more perceptive than he seems, and often tells people what they need to hear instead of what they want. Hence, he is seen as one of the more hardened people in Luffy's friend-group. For example, when they first meet Laboon and learn that the whale had been waiting for 50 years for a reunion with his friends, it is Sanji who immediately (and correctly) points out that Laboon's friends are most likely dead. Sanji does possess an optimistic and idealistic side. Furthermore, even after the abuse, he experienced from his family as a child, he held out hope that they may have changed for the better. However, this hope proves to be completely futile, but he was angrier than surprised at the revelation, showing that he maintains a healthy sense of skepticism even at his most hopeful. Sanji also showed a high degree of faith in his fiancée, Pudding Charlotte, and was horrified and downcast when he discovered her true motive.

Like Franky (and unlike Zoro), Sanji is not afraid to show his emotions when the moment calls for it and is entirely capable of crying or losing his temper, which results in Sanji's short fuse and subsequent beatings of most enemies (and Luffy). In fact, a running gag has appeared since Sanji's fight with Jabra, during which he stated that when he gets angry, he "heats up". After this fight, when Sanji gets particularly angry at an opponent, he appears to burst into flames. This occurs with both Absalom and Duval. It is also seen when Luffy states nonchalantly that he is friends with Hancock Boa, considered to be the most beautiful witch.

Despite his hardened outlook on life, Sanji does not object to acting foolishly on certain occasions, like dancing with the more immature members of the group (Luffy, Usopp, Chopper and Brook), or acting childishly excited in certain situations.

Sanji seems to enjoy relaxing with a cup of tea (his favorite drink) as seen when he entered Mr. 3's house and helped himself to Miss Golden Week's tea set. This habit came up again when the group sneaked into the Ministry of Magic to save Robin when Kalifa distracted Sanji by offering him tea; in another instance, Sanji angrily refused Bege when he was offered something to drink while trapped inside of Bege's mansion.

Since at a young age, Sanji has a habit of saying "shit" or "shitty" when describing something. For example, he might call a person he especially does not like a "shitty bastard" or something along those lines (such as his personal nickname for Zeff, "shitty geezer"), but he also described something pleasant to him, like being alone with Nami, as "shitty fantastic" and "the shitty best".

He does admit that he is not perfect. He convinced Usopp to let him fight Jabra, because of their differences in abilities. He admitted that he was stronger than Usopp in terms of physical strength, that they both had things they could not do and things they could do and because of that, they can help each other. This inspired Usopp to realize he was the only one who could save Robin by using his marksmanship.

[usagirln120]

When Natsu and Takeru got together, I bet Hinata and Oikawa were real ecstatic when they also learned that they were gonna be uncles.

You can bet! 😋

Hinata was a little hesitant about his baby sister dating Oikawa's nephew at first though, especially after hearing about the rumor's that Oikawa was a player when it came to girls but he did eventually get over it.

When Natsu and Takeru had their daughters, Oikawa & Iwaizumi became the god-fathers to the oldest and Hinata & Kageyama became the god-fathers to the youngest.

[equimour]

Hogwarts : school of witchcraft and wizardry for princesses and lady royal!

Barbie Princess Charm School x Harry Potter au icons!

Like or reblog if you use!🎃

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: Chapter Fourteen! How exciting! What do you think to the mood board? More Addams shenanigans in upcoming parts!!!

Don’t forget to like when you’re done!

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Fourteen ~ The Book

The carriages were lined up in their dozens, loaded with passengers and their luggage. Some had already started their route down the snowy road that lead from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade Station, walking themselves effortlessly down the hill.

(Y/N) had spent the morning watching her roommates pack whatever they intended to bring home for the holidays, and occasionally pointing out a missing object. Millicent had spent the last twenty minutes trying to wrestle Mouse into her carrier, with Saoirse’s help they managed it on the fifth attempt.

“Are you sure about staying?” Bridgit asked as she checked the buckles on her trunk, where it sat securely on the back of the carriage.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m perfectly fine here.” (Y/N) replied with a blank stare as she rubbed away a rogue snowflake that dared touch her nose. “My parents will be staying at the Hog’s Head tomorrow, anyway.”

A few more carriages rolled away as the girls began to step into their own, eager to shut in some warmth but wanting to talk with her for a while longer. The grounds keeper was making his rounds somewhere a short distance away, making sure everyone was ready and hurrying them along to the station; it wasn’t long before the train was due to leave.

“Won’t you be lonely?” Millicent asked from under her two scarves. “You’ll be here all alone.”

Controlling the subconscious act of rolling one’s eyes was quite the challenge, but (Y/N) managed a slow blink instead. Why would these girls even care about any of that? “I’m not alone, I’m by myself. Which is how I enjoy it - I’ll finally have some complete solitude.”

The last of the carriages were beginning to leave and the half-giant was calling for them to say their goodbyes, when (before (Y/N) could do anything about it) Saoirse launched herself at the startled young Addams, wrapping her arms around her neck in an embrace that was stiffly received. “Have a nice Christmas, (Y/N), I left Jinx a lolly for the big day.” She said, then pulled back and got into the carriage before there was room to complain. “See ya next year!” Saoirse exclaimed with a grin, which only doubled when (Y/N) finally rolled her eyes (with tenfold the usual amount of exasperation).

(Y/N) observed as the cart pulled away with her roommates waving through the window, watching as they joined the others that walked the path to Hogsmeade, an ant trail of black dots marching in the white snow.

Grey clouds had formed over Hogwarts that morning, promising more snow to come than the few that flitted down at the moment, and (Y/N) decided to re-enter the castle for a late breakfast before a storm decided to slow her down.

When she seated herself at the Slytherin table, along with a handful of older students, (Y/N) played a couple of crumpets smothered in butter and let her eyes wander as she ate. For the first time in quite a while, (Y/N) was sitting alone in the Great Hall. Let’s not go as far as to say that she missed having company at all (because wouldn’t that be just ridiculous?), but there were no conversations to be listening to, no opinions to be shared, and not even anything to roll her eyes at. But for the next meal, she made note to perhaps bring a book with her.

There were a few faces around the hall that she vaguely recognised, and many more that she didn’t; what she did notice is that most of them seemed to be perfectly solemn. And with that, it was hard to miss the joyful faces sitting at the Gryffindor table. (Y/N) wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Harry smile quite so much, but he certainly seemed far from as miserable as everyone else staying at school for the holidays. Ron was sat beside him, talking away with expressive hands, one holding a buttery bacon sandwich. She had decided a while ago that she ought not be bitter about those boys any longer, that she needed to let go of that months-old hurt; it was only then that she felt that she truly had. (Y/N) had new friends - better friends - who accepted her as she was and didn’t judge her for her differences l. She was glad, and glad for them too. All that mattered now was that she would see her family tomorrow, and find whatever she was asked to uncover, and everything would go back to how it should be.

It was three in the afternoon when (Y/N) finally made it to the library; dinner would be served at half-past five, and curfew was at nine; that left her an estimated five hours to find what she had been looking for.

Madame Pince was nowhere in sight as (Y/N) walked straight to her usual spot near the back of the library, counting the rows in the Divination section. When she reached the fifth row of shelves, she dropped her bag on the floor to begin her search with newfound determination. During her last visit she had made it to the first row of M’s, so now she only had one letter left. The only problem was yet again just how many there were.

The library shelves were enormous, each one as long as the giant squid and as tall as nearly the height of the room. Checking the name and title of every book starting from two thirds up the ladder took her over two hours, and by the time the M’s finished, the last shelf had ran out and (Y/N) had to cope with the fact that she’d wasted so much time climbing up the wrong side of the shelves.

When she finally ascended the ladder (on the right row, this time), (Y/N) had to squint her eyes slightly to read the titles. It was so dark and shadowed in the Divination section already, but now she was in a high corner at the back of the room and there was hardly a stream of light to make the books visible. Winter clouds had darkened the sky and snow blocked out any early-evening sun, and the candles and torches that usually lit the library simply didn’t reach her. It was all terribly inconvenient.

Again, for much longer than she would have liked, (Y/N) scanned the titles on the shelf; Basics of Narcomancy by Natalia Manteia, The Divine Nature of Dreams by Horus Duermus, Secrets of the Subconscious by Selestia Soothe; but they weren’t what she was looking for. “Necromancy, come on… it must be somewhere…” she muttered to herself, feeling almost frenzied with frustration and desperation, but she simply couldn’t give up when she felt so close.

Forget Narcomancy - where the Styx was Necromancy?

Using her hands to pull her body along, she rolled the ladder further to the right, brushing aside cobwebs and blowing away dust. She thought the library was always so clean and taken care of, but Merlin did Pince not care to dust this high up. But who could blame her, really? Who ever came to collect from all the way up the highest shelves, in the Divination section no less?

Nyphomancy, Necyomancy, but still no Necromancy. Again, she pulled herself along further to the right, and took a deep breath through the nose to collect herself. “This is all so stupid…” she mumbled in her frustration, feeling a tingle in her nose. She wiped away more cobwebs to read another title, disturbing the long-settled dust into the air and her nose tingled again.

Oh no.

Oh dear.

Holding her nose, (Y/N) quickly rolled further along with the ladder in hopes of breathing some clearer air, but only seemed to make things worse as more dust was blown about her. It was too late - there was nothing more she could do.

The tingle grew and (Y/N) pulled her arm up to muffle the noise as her head jolted backwards with the sneeze, not realising her fatal mistake as her balance was thrown off. She reached both arms forward quickly, grabbing onto the stable wood of the shelf tightly, until she was sure she wouldn’t fall.

By now, she was almost completely in the corner, just a couple of feet away from the wall. She read the titles in front of her. Natimancy, Nephomancy, Necromancy!

There, just slightly to her right, was exactly the book she needed. (Y/N) grabbed at it with a sense of pride, brushing off cobwebs and leaving a clearing in the dust in front of it. Finally, in her hands, was a little hope.

The book was a good size, a heavy hardback with a black cover and simple silver lettering. Necromancy - printed in bold just higher than the centre, by Morbius E. Shelly.

(Y/N) had never climbed down a ladder so quickly. The second her feet touched the floor she was sitting with her back to the ridiculously tall shelves, not soaring a single thought to the cold of the hardwood floor on her behind. With bated breath, she sat the book on her knees and turned back over.

“Miss Addams, is that you?”

(Y/N) almost leapt out of her skin at the skins of the librarian’s voice from the other end of the row - and that was really quite the feat, for I wasn’t often that someone could sneak up on her.

Thinking fast, (Y/N) removed her coat and hid the book in its thick black fabric, not wishing to be caught reading about such an unsavoury topic in a dark part of the library. Hades knows that’s all her reputation needed.

She stood with it hidden well in her arms, still half-saved by the shadows as the librarian and she added her scarf to the pile in her arms. “Yes, Madam Pince, it’s me.” She answered with a stiffness that almost would have given her away.

“Lunch is starting, go and join the others,” Pince said with a gesture of her arms, “off you go. Do you have a book to check out?”

(Y/N) decided to taker her chance while the shadows were working in her favour, to slide past with her things pulled to her side. “N, not today, thank you.” She answered politely, then hurried to fetch her bag and take her leave before Pince could get a good look in the light.

Sitting through lunch with her bag at her side was absolute torture. The food was as good as usual, Dumbkrdore made a little speech before they ate, and there was chatter all about; but (Y/N) could only think about how long she would have to wait before she could go back to her dorm and open the book that felt like the key to solving her problems.

She picked at her food distractedly as the presence of the book looked over her like a thrillingly life-draining dark energy; it was ever so difficult to act as if she had nothing better to be doing. Snow fell from the enchanted ceiling, mirroring the storm that grew outside, and giving the warm room a sense of cold winter, and (Y/N) decided to direct her focus to that. If only she had time for a stroll.

When she had finished her meal and a few people began to leave, (Y/N) snatched up her satchel and made her way through the castle towards her common room. She passed maybe a handful of students on her way to the frosty Dungeons, nodding to a couple of nosy portraits as she went, before she finally came to the entrance and recited the password. “Dulce Venenum.”

The Slytherin common room was entirely empty, and as far as she was aware, she was the only occupant - much to her appreciation. The fire was burning hot enough to ward off the comforting chill, and she wondered if she could ask Snape if there was something that could be done about that - and if he didn’t prove to be of any use, the. She’d have to ask someone with a little more competence, like McGonnagal.

The dark leather sofas were finally free, and it was her first opportunity to sit in them; they were springier than she’d imagined. With the book placed cautiously on the table, as if it would explode with some terrible curse if it was mistreated at all, (Y/N) gathered herself up to open it. She had built up this moment in her head so much, that she felt it needed the right respect to savour it.

She studied its sleek appearance as it stared back up at her, tapping the heap of her black Mary-Jane and fiddling with the black lace on the hem of her sleeves as she prepared herself. With great care, (Y/N) reached out and lifted the heavy cover.

A note from Morbius E. Shelly ~

The topics presented in this book are of a restricted nature, therefore, the information pertaining to these practices are intended for strictly educational purposes only. The British Ministry of Magic has approved any and all information disclosed. Readers are warned that the majority of these rituals and practices are considered taboo at the very least, and crimes of immoral nature at most. It is advised that these are not to be performed unless by professionals with express permission from the Ministry of Magic. The author takes no responsibility beyond this point. Read with care.

Well, things were certainly off to an interesting start.

An hour had passed before she knew it and the grand clock above the fireplace rang out to inform her that it was already ten o’clock, and that she ought to be in bed if she wanted to make it to Hogsmeade in time. She looked at the wriggling silver snakes pointing their heads to the time for only a moment, before she dove right back into the book. If she hadn’t felt there was a clue to her Message hidden in these pages, (Y/N) could still have certainly been reading it with just as much interest.

She was also fairly sure that this book had originally belonged to the Restricted Section.

Though her ambitions were strong, her eyes were heavy, and (Y/N) was disappointed to have to admit defeat for the night. Sinking back against the plump sofa, she let her eyes rest from hours of focus, drifting off into thoughts of the next day. What presents did her parents get her? Did Grandmama bring any home-bakes? Would Wednesday make time for a good duel?

Before she could fall asleep, (Y/N) yawned and stretched, and stood up to head to bed. A draft blew through the room and rustled the pages as she went to collect the book. How much more did she have to read through? Finding her place again, she flicked through the chapters to see what topics awaited her; dead-raising; scrying; possessions; crystal balls. Chapter Twenty-Two caught her eye: Séances. A practical yet unpredictable ritual of dead-communication, simple and versatile. The chapter began with a beautiful line-sketch of a tastefully nude coven performing the ritual and calling forth a ghastly spirit from a supernatural smoke at the centre - and if that hadn’t caught her eye, then the folded browning piece of parchment tucked into the pages certainly had.

In that moment, (Y/N) was aware of nothing but the note - taking it in her hands, not daring ti open it so quickly; if she opened it to find nothing there, there would be no words in her vocabulary ti express her frustration and disappointment.

It was old - flat and faded enough for her ti be sure that it had been hidden in that book for a very long time. Delicately, (Y/N) unfolded it and unfolded it again, until she was revealed to the brown ink of handwriting not exposed to the world in a very long time - longer, surely, than she had been alive. It was not neat, but a strange swirling italic - the handwriting of someone who had to try very hard to make their writing look tidy and legible, with little wobbles when their fingers shook. She’d expected it ti contain a message that would rid her of her burden and set everything into place, but was only let down once more, and left with no more than frustration and confusion.

It is hidden where you may not venture.

(Y/N) may have assumed that she’d gotten it all wrong - that this was an elaborate prank to play on the Addams-girl, or that this was left for someone else - if it weren’t for the obvious age if the parchment, and the Addams crest stamped at the bottom, waiting only for her to recognise it.

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[destinationtoast]

Just found a Shogun/Harry Potter crossover fic whose metadata includes a warning that the author "can't promise" historical accuracy.

[rinkaitoons]

I did this comic for last new year but thought I'd share it with you too💖

Happy New Year everyone!

[mitsuki91]

Okay one post makes me made a mind-blown connection and as much as I hate crossover, I have to explore this headcanon about Lucy Gray Baird, muggleborn orphan, being a secret Parselmouth. So, yeah, a secret heir of Slytherin, descendent of Salazar himself.

I don't know how or where I can put this into canon-hp-verse or if I just push canon out of the window, but yeah.

All the possibilities 😍😍😍😍

(Of course Snow is a Pureblood... A poor desperate Pureblood... Who falls in love with a Mudblood... Eheheheheh +____+)