Fandom 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐚𝐫

[social]

hogwarts: the second wizarding war

the beginning.

The crisp air filled their lungs as the students walked to Hogsmeade, the leaves crunching underneath their feet, clinging to their robes and sweaters. Familiar scents of warm butter beer, explosive candies, fresh ink, and warm fires burning in a hearth meant that the students had arrived at their destination. The teachers allowed the children to split up and explore the area, some buying things while others simply walked around, too embarrassed to hold hands or kiss. The atmosphere was light-hearted and easy, with worries about homework and tests no longer on their minds they were able to relax and enjoy the weekend.

At least, they were until everything came to a startling halt. Shrill screams and glass breaking caused Hogsmeade to stop in its tracks, everyone rushing to see the commotion. Flashes of greens, reds, and blues mixed with splintered wood, shattered glass, and crimson blood. Terror and panic became a suffocating feeling, with students, patrons, business owners, and staff struggling to keep people protected while the fight ensued. It was short, ending in a cloud of black smoke, leaving behind a trail of chaos. Fires burned on nearby buildings as people slowly opened their doors, tear-stained faces taking the damage. It was silent. The only noises that could be heard were the crackling of flames and the slight scratching of dried leaves against cobblestones.

A stifled cry of shock and despair seemed to jumpstart Hogsmeade again, witches and wizards hurriedly rushing to the sides of those injured, quickly tending to their wounds while others put out the fires. Professors did their best to round up the students, trying to count them and make sure everyone was there. The younger ones were quietly shuttled away, and sent straight to the castle, while the older ones stayed back, their eyes transfixed on the familiar figures laying in the rubble. The color of the victims’ blood had overwritten what house they were in, those loving and comforting colors of their home had been soiled and stained by the blood that was spilled simply because of its quality. Two muggle-born students were pronounced dead when the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore arrived at the scene.

A half-blood was stable but injured and Professor Burbage was also injured while protecting her students. Luckily they were able to be sent to the infirmary quite quickly. The other victims weren’t so fortunate. Students that were witnesses to the crime were held back for questioning before they were released to McGonagall’s custody and taken back to the castle. Death weighed heavily on each student’s shoulders as the gravity of their situation began to sink in. Those who aligned with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named seemed to have already started to infiltrate the areas surrounding Hogwarts and they had only just begun to prey on the innocent lives of those they believed to be unworthy.

Feel free to have your characters be walking back to the castle from Hogsmeade or already be back on school grounds and discussing the aftermath of everything! The characters who have been injured will be posted in the NPC channel later today so there will be more information about them to come! If you have any questions, feel free to message me in the server and I'll do my best to help you out!

coded by social (inspo cred to angcolor)

Spoiler: uncoded ver.

The crisp air filled their lungs as the students walked to Hogsmeade, the leaves crunching underneath their feet, clinging to their robes and sweaters. Familiar scents of warm butter beer, explosive candies, fresh ink, and warm fires burning in a hearth meant that the students had arrived at their destination. The teachers allowed the children to split up and explore the area, some buying things while others simply walked around, too embarrassed to hold hands or kiss. The atmosphere was light-hearted and easy, with worries about homework and tests no longer on their minds they were able to relax and enjoy the weekend.

At least, they were until everything came to a startling halt. Shrill screams and glass breaking caused Hogsmeade to stop in its tracks, everyone rushing to see the commotion. Flashes of greens, reds, and blues mixed with splintered wood, shattered glass, and crimson blood. Terror and panic became a suffocating feeling, with students, patrons, business owners, and staff struggling to keep people protected while the fight ensued. It was short, ending in a cloud of black smoke, leaving behind a trail of chaos. Fires burned on nearby buildings as people slowly opened their doors, tear-stained faces taking the damage. It was silent. The only noises that could be heard were the crackling of flames and the slight scratching of dried leaves against cobblestones.

A stifled cry of shock and despair seemed to jumpstart Hogsmeade again, witches and wizards hurriedly rushing to the sides of those injured, quickly tending to their wounds while others put out the fires. Professors did their best to round up the students, trying to count them and make sure everyone was there. The younger ones were quietly shuttled away, and sent straight to the castle, while the older ones stayed back, their eyes transfixed on the familiar figures laying in the rubble. The color of the victims’ blood had overwritten what house they were in, those loving and comforting colors of their home had been soiled and stained by the blood that was spilled simply because of its quality. Two muggle-born students were pronounced dead when the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore arrived at the scene.

A half-blood was stable but injured and Professor Burbage was also injured while protecting her students. Luckily they were able to be sent to the infirmary quite quickly. The other victims weren’t so fortunate. Students that were witnesses to the crime were held back for questioning before they were released to McGonagall’s custody and taken back to the castle. Death weighed heavily on each student’s shoulders as the gravity of their situation began to sink in. Those who aligned with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named seemed to have already started to infiltrate the areas surrounding Hogwarts and they had only just begun to prey on the innocent lives of those they believed to be unworthy.

 

[social]

It was all a blur when it happened. Spells seemed to light up the sky for a few moments before it was silent. The only things he could hear were his breathing and the fire that crackled next to him, trying to travel across the sea of splintered wood. He had been in the Three Broomsticks with his friends, particularly his close friend Cobi. They had all been drinking Butterbeer and enjoying a quiet day in Hogsmeade, certainly the first of many, when the attacks happened. Very few students had brought their wands, and while Ciarán had his, he didn’t leave his friends. He didn’t know what was happening and by the time he had pulled a table over for them to hide behind, it was over. There was crying and wailing as people made their way outside, which caused the curly-haired boy to leave the shop as well.

His stomach twisted painfully as he stared at the victims, their faces covered by blood and leaves, tears still having managed to fall from their eyes even after death. He felt sick and angry to the point he didn’t even register Professor McGonagall’s hands on his shoulders as she pulled him to the side, trying her best to shield her students from the carnage. His breathing felt uncomfortable, tight, and forced. He couldn’t help but keep his dark gaze trained on the students’ bodies as they were hurriedly covered by cloaks while the one remaining living one was whisked off towards Hogwarts to receive immediate aid. Concerned students spoke over each other while others were quiet and seemed to know exactly what had happened.

Ciarán didn’t snap out of his trance until he bumped into Cobi again and took in his friend’s expression. His body seemed to tremble as his eyes were lit with a painful rage. That was to be expected. After all, students that they went to school with were murdered just a couple of meters from where they were seated. “Hey, are you ok-” His sentence was cut off by Dumbledore’s arrival, the great wizard quickly taking in the situation and figuring out what was going on. The students were gathered and not wanting to be separated, Ciarán grabbed onto Cobi’s arm, keeping the boy close to him.

The questions were short, Dumbledore mostly asking where they were when it happened, what they saw, and if they recognized the attackers. When it was Ciarán’s turn, Dumbledore’s wise eyes seemed troubled as he looked at the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Were you out here?” The question was short, but he knew what it implied. Was he the reason they had gotten killed?

“No Sir, I was in the Three Broomsticks. I didn’t even see what was going on apart from the spells. It was too late once I got up, they were already gone. I’m sorry.” His head hung slightly in shame, almost as if he blamed himself for the attack.

“Do not worry, it wasn’t your fault.” But it was easier said than done. As they were ushered by the remaining teachers, Ciarán began to walk, his mind wandering as his fingers twisted his wand, almost as if regretting not using it. He sighed heavily before turning to look at his friend whom he had caught back up with.

“Are you going to be okay Cobi?”

outfit: xo | location: just outside hogsmeade | tags: cobi dreamglow

CIARÁN

HALLORAN

coded by social

Spoiler: uncoded ver.

It was all a blur when it happened. Spells seemed to light up the sky for a few moments before it was silent. The only things he could hear were his breathing and the fire that crackled next to him, trying to travel across the sea of splintered wood. He had been in the Three Broomsticks with his friends, particularly his close friend Cobi. They had all been drinking Butterbeer and enjoying a quiet day in Hogsmeade, certainly the first of many, when the attacks happened. Very few students had brought their wands, and while Ciarán had his, he didn’t leave his friends. He didn’t know what was happening and by the time he had pulled a table over for them to hide behind, it was over. There was crying and wailing as people made their way outside, which caused the curly-haired boy to leave the shop as well.

His stomach twisted painfully as he stared at the victims, their faces covered by blood and leaves, tears still having managed to fall from their eyes even after death. He felt sick and angry to the point he didn’t even register Professor McGonagall’s hands on his shoulders as she pulled him to the side, trying her best to shield her students from the carnage. His breathing felt uncomfortable, tight, and forced. He couldn’t help but keep his dark gaze trained on the students’ bodies as they were hurriedly covered by cloaks while the one remaining living one was whisked off towards Hogwarts to receive immediate aid. Concerned students spoke over each other while others were quiet and seemed to know exactly what had happened.

Ciarán didn’t snap out of his trance until he bumped into Cobi again and took in his friend’s expression. His body seemed to tremble as his eyes were lit with a painful rage. That was to be expected. After all, students that they went to school with were murdered just a couple of meters from where they were seated. “Hey, are you ok-” His sentence was cut off by Dumbledore’s arrival, the great wizard quickly taking in the situation and figuring out what was going on. The students were gathered and not wanting to be separated, Ciarán grabbed onto Cobi’s arm, keeping the boy close to him.

The questions were short, Dumbledore mostly asking where they were when it happened, what they saw, and if they recognized the attackers. When it was Ciarán’s turn, Dumbledore’s wise eyes seemed troubled as he looked at the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Were you out here?” The question was short, but he knew what it implied. Was he the reason they had gotten killed?

“No Sir, I was in the Three Broomsticks. I didn’t even see what was going on apart from the spells. It was too late once I got up, they were already gone. I’m sorry.” His head hung slightly in shame, almost as if he blamed himself for the attack.

“Do not worry, it wasn’t your fault.” But it was easier said than done. As they were ushered by the remaining teachers, Ciarán began to walk, his mind wandering as his fingers twisted his wand, almost as if regretting not using it. He sighed heavily before turning to look at his friend whom he had caught back up with.

“Are you going to be okay Cobi?”

 

[Henley]

scroll

order

Leo.

mood

mood here

outfit

outfit

location

location here

interactions

interactions here

tags

tags here

His wand felt useless in his hand. Rowan wood. He’d been so proud of it when he read about what that could mean for a wizard; more protective than any other wood. He’d loved the sound of that, being a protector of the innocent like some knight from one of his muggle stories. The reality was different to what he had once imagined. He’d tried. He’d been on his way to meet Ciarán in the Three Broomsticks but he’d been late, one of his beaters had gotten detention the day of the next match and so he’d raced back to the common room to beg one of the reserves to keep out of trouble lest they forefit. Two chocolate frogs worth of bribery later and he’d found a beater but had also found himself late to Hogsmeade.

It was mostly over by the time he’d gotten there; green flashes, red flashes, a scream, students crying and then a horrible beat of silence that haunted him far more than the screams. And he’d stood there, wand at the ready and nothing came. If he’d been quicker maybe he could have thrown himself in front of one of the curses, punched a terrorist. Instead he arrived to screams and carnage and couldn’t do a single thing to stop it. He avoided looking at the students on the ground, he'd find their names later and their faces in the paper - bright and happy and moving. He owed it to them to remember them how they were, he'd find out about them later. Commit their names to memory and be faster next time.

He refused to let himself be too slow next time. He'd be there.

Death Eaters. It had to have been them. Once a whisper in the newspapers, a rumour at the dinner table, a conspiracy theory shunned by most before the Tri-Wizard tournament made it undeniable to those with the sense to believe Ciarán and their own eyes, the name was cropping up more and more often. Now his return was undeniable. Now a price was firmly lodged on his the head of one of his best friends. And though it was never printed, never mentioned in the inky columns of the Prophet, everyone somehow knew the name that went before it.

That man. That bastard was responsible for innocent deaths once again. Ciarán wasn't on the ground and he could have wept with relief but that meant it was no attempt to take out the saviour and instead they'd murdered for the sake of it. Students. Children. He prayed it was no one he knew. He swallowed the urge to scream or shout out names and refocused on what was in front of him. A small gaggle of third years were huddled in one of the side streets, tearful and pale and shaking and far too young to witness what had happened. He hurried over to them, mindful of the cracks in the cobblestone and the debris in his way. They shrunk back for a second as he beelined for them and he held his hands up in surrender, in peace, in the hope the fear etching their faces would lessen even just a little.

"Are any of you hurt?" No one seemed hurt, no clothes were torn or stained with blood but he'd seen injuries creep up on people before - Quidditch injuries leaving someone with Pomfrey for a week without a scratch on them. They seemed to burst forward once it was apparant he was no death eater - what death eater would care about that? The knot of them growing more tangled by the second as they surged forward. The prospect of someone in charge, someone older, reassuring enough to bring them out of the side street they'd pressed themseles into. He couldn't panic, they were looking to him to help - he had to be strong. "Okay!" Hoping his voice did not betray him, "Were any of you hurt?" He repeated the question and prayed.

"We just hid." Said one student.

Another, more helpful, "None of us got hurt, we were leaving Honeydukes when-" He stumbled over, unable to reach for a description and shrugging instead of seeking it out.

He smiled at them, "Sometimes that's your best option." He nodded, putting more energy behind it than he felt he had, "You did good. Really." God he was going to spend a week begging Pomfrey for lessons as he belatedly realised if they had been hurt there'd have been little to be done other than call for help.

"We didn't know what to do." piped up the same helpful third year.

Right. Oldest student. He straightened himself up as though about to command his Quidditch team, "First off you're all employing the buddy system as of right now, pair up and get behind me-" They did, quicker than his team would have and he reached into his pocket for the muggle sweets he'd smuggled out with him. "Pass this around, take one each-" If chocolate worked for dementors he couldn't see the harm in employing it after a different sort of attack too, "Stay behind me and we'll go find a Professor, alright?"

They murmured the affirmative, some still wiping tears from their sleeves - he gave them a weak thumbs up, in reassurance or an attempt to wrestle a smile from them he wasn't sure but when it had no effect he spun around and sought out a Professor. Gaggles of students were milling about, aurors seemed to be focused on where the attack had happened and Leo forced himself to look past it in search of someone who could keep the kids he'd found himself in charge of safe.

Madam Hooch's familiar frame broke through the unfamiliar crowd and he hurried towards her. "Madam Hooch!" The students behind him picked up pace at the sight of the professor, who spun around at the call of her name. Small mercies that it had been her, she was commanding and rough sometimes but there were few professors he trusted as much as her. "Students for you-"

She nodded at that and he hoped that he'd guessed right, that he hadn't stopped her on the way to something important. She started organising and questioning the students and he let his gaze flicker back the way they came, the bodies were still there - the stones were black in some places, burnt from spells and bloodied from- he shook that thought away. If he'd been there he could have helped. The stones were cracked and burnt and stained and he should have done something.

“Pritchard,” came a voice beside him, and the hum of his thoughts stopped; the world came roaring back. He jerked his gaze away from the cracked stones to see Madam Hooch at his side, the third years stood silently between them. His face flushed, embarrassed to have ignored her - to have made her worry, whilst he'd been staring at broken stones he'd missed whatever she'd asked. An apology was on his lips but she cut him off, his brow knitted and he felt his jaw clench. One mistake after another.

Madam Hooch hesitated for a moment as her gaze flickered over him, searching for injuries he did not have; “Are you alright Leo?” It was a strange question given the dead bodies’ lying barely ten meters away and the fact there wasn't a scratch on him. Was he supposed to tell her about the buzz of panic in the back of his head, that kept making him feel as though something else was about to happen and so he needed to focus. And yet despite the jitteriness, the panic he felt at the prospect that one his friends could have been hurt without him there to save him - he also feels sluggish as though in the few seconds it took for him to come upon the carnage he walked a marathon. That there was a vicious coil of anger at the fact he'd been late, that he'd gotten distracted and so he couldn't help. If they had been there for one of his friends, for Ciarán, he would have been useless to them.

She repeated the question and her gaze jumped between the younger students and him. He felt something like anger clawing its way up his throat at the tone, a largely unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation. He wanted to snap, mutter he was fine and that she really needed to focus on the third years but it was Madam Hooch and she was only trying to help. To check. She'd known him since he was eleven and she was one of his favourite teachers and it was him being distracted that had diverted her attention. So he settled a shrug and an attempt at a reassuring smile, the one he saved for whenever Hufflepuff lost at Quidditch - sympathetic and acknowledging but undeniably optimistic. She accepted it with a brusque nod, a ghost of a smile, as she refocused on the students around her and organised them into a line of some sort of order which then started a steady walk back to the castle.

A few of the students looked back at him and he mock saluted as they walked away; he’d have to hunt down the helpful one later to check in on them or ask someone from Ravenclaw to do it. Once they were on their way he spun around on his heel and headed towards the masses of students trying to pick familiar faces out of the crowd.

He forced the panic out of his voice as he called out, light and easy and reassuring and steady. He could do that. He had to. He hadn't even been there for the attack, he'd been late and his friends could have been there or caught in the crossfire, they would not need his panic or the anger clouding his voice - he needed to be steady and there. Will. Ciarán. Holly. Cobi. Sera. He needed to know they were okay.

He darted through the crowd calling out names, with a steadier tone than before and hoped someone would appear.

♡coded by uxie♡

scroll

death eater

Billie.

interaction

anyone

outfit

outfit

location

leaving Hogsmeade

tags

tags here

Screams echoed around her, spells hit the cobbles and caused them to shatter but it felt distant and muffled behind the pounding of blood in her ears. Her bloodied thumb rubbed circles into her sleeve as she crouched down in the alcove, she tried to focus on anything but the screams and the flashes of spellwork all too close to where she had hidden. Her fists clenched when it continued, stinging and aching and she clung to it. Pain was easier than fear. Her nails had been red when she unclenched her fist after a spell came too close, bloodied nails reaching for her wand - the wand she’d left at the castle. Fuck. Trembling breaths shook her body, she had been so sure she was breathing too loud - that each breath would send the red and green flashes in her direction. She focused on her hand, the red half crescents in her palm and the way they stung in the cold air - the way those crescents meant she was safe. Her blood was pure. She was safe.

Repeating a mantra was the best way to believe it.

She let it echo in her head even as the fighting stopped. She was safe.

Her knees buckled when she finally rose up from where she’d been huddled, shaking, she grasped at the wall and took shuddering heavy breaths to steady herself. It was over. She was safe. Everything else could be dealt with. She was safe. Her knees burnt from where her tights had torn as she'd pressed herself down against the stone, she'd need a new pair.

Once the shaking had reached an understandable amount, a level that wouldn’t mark her a coward or something shameful she crept out to where the crowds had started to gather, a wide berth was given to one area and against the part of her mind that prickled, that itched, that whispered a warning or maybe it screamed at the sight - she ignored it - Billie crept forward to the forefront of it.

Two figures laid out on the street.

Everything was fine, it would be fine.

Two figures on the ground. Aurors leading another away. A professor leaning on another for support as they limped away. Four eyes wide and unseeing and accusing. Dead. She wanted to look away from them but she couldn’t. She watched as someone threw cloaks over them as though that would hide the red snow beneath them, the cracked cobblestones or the image blazing in her head. She rather thought she should be crying, but nothing would come. She’d never seen a dead body before, not really. Animals and washed up bones on the beach but never a person. Never a student.

Her fist clenched. She took another breath. Thankfully the face was not familiar, most of her friends would be safe - they had to be but her brother was a half blood and a traitorous part of her had hoped to Merlin that Brigid was safe too.

Her eyes closed for a brief moment, she wasn't sure what she wanted to say to the images that burned behind her eyes - she wouldn't apologise for something she had no part in and she'd be lying if she said she wished she'd fought or stepped in or stopped it. She wished it hadn't been at Hogwarts. Hogsmeade was barely a separate entity to the school, it was their village just as much as those who lived inside of it.

She wished they'd had a little longer.

Hogwarts robes shouldn’t be something adorning the dead.

Professors started to shepherd the students, gathering them all up and leading them back to the safety of Hogwarts.

An Auror stopped next to her, brow furrowed as he asked if she was alright. She suppressed a scoff at that, of course she was alright - she was safe.

"Do you have a comment for the Hogwarts student paper, sir?"

Her voice was steady, dull with exhaustion but a glimmer of pride at the lack of a tremble had her standing a little straighter. The words came to her far more easily than the tears that still refused to fall, it was easier to focus on the distraction of the paper. Of asking the question she knew would drive the man away, that would get his careful probing concern away from her.

He shook his head, blowing off her request for comment with a practised disdain she was sure he carried whenever asked that question. She wondered when it would be that the Prophet and those like it would get wind of what happened, if there wasn't already someone squirreled away in an office somewhere working on a headline - she wondered if they'd mention the smell of burning, how small the students looked or how the fear still hung in the air as though it was as visible as the sky. She wondered if they'd manage to muster up the outrage they were all expected to feel.

She wondered what they'd come up with to describe it back at Hogwarts, would it be a three page spread mourning the loss? A page per victim, a page telling of Burbage's brilliant lessons and the tragic waste such violence brings. She could see it, she could probably write it. But it rang hollow, somewhere in her chest - the outrage was absent even as the fear remained. During those early years the older students had taken her clumsy thrusts and jabs, sharpened them and tossed them onto the parchment of the Hogwarts student paper. It was something to focus on. A reason to seek people out; a prefect, the Head girl or boy or even the boy who lived. All people she could not see from where she was.

She tore herself away from where she'd been standing and joined the masses, stumbling as she bumped into someone - apology on her lips as she moved to hurry past them.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

Seraphina song

ravenclaw

Hogsmeade was one of the few places where Seraphina didn’t feel surrounded by judging eyes that were ready to deem every one of her actions as an unworthy person, a place where she didn’t have to prove herself to be perfect and that she was above her peers, because even if the girl enjoyed the satisfaction of achieving everything she set her mind to, sometimes the pressure of living to an expectation she was sure she would never succeed no matter how hard she tried would become bearing and almost suffocating.

surpassing everything she accomplished the last year was starting to pollute the mind of the young witch. But she couldn’t let those thoughts cloud her judgment, not when the year just started. In her way to try to stop overthinking the Ravenclaw girl ended up in Honeydukes, maybe buying some candies before her departure to Hogwarts would be a good idea when she craved something sweet something that was a bit surprising as Seraphina didn’t seem like the type of girl that would have a sweet tooth.

Just after the girl was about to exit the shop with some cauldron cakes and chocoballs, she was received by the chaos and screaming. The colored flashes coming from the wands along with the shattered glasses of the shops were like a hypnotizing picture for Seraphina, maybe because it was a graphic presentation of her inner turmoils or maybe she just had a fascination for chaos that she wanted to keep hidden and locked inside herself. But what brought her back to reality was the whimpers of the injured and the screams of horror at seeing the dead bodies making Seraphina almost want to throw up.

The commotion made someone push Seraphina. She heard the voice of one of the teachers telling her to leave Hogsmeade and go to the castle immediately; it seemed that was the indication to the students, still confused at everything that just happened Seraphina walk away still not feeling like she was still her usual self, the scene of blood and dead was enough to make her feel uneasy, but at the same time remembering the mesmerizing view of chaos sent a chill over her entire body due to the excitement.

“This was going to be an interesting year for sure.”

Seraphina thought as she walked towards the castle along with the students of Hogwarts.

mood: intrigued

outfit: X

location: Hogsmeade

tags: open

coded by Stardust Galaxy

 

[Pastry]

EDDARD TARE
tags: none ; location: hogsmeade, path to hogwarts ; company: hogwarts students

He’d just visited Flourish and Blott’s to pick up an updated copy of his favorite book on herbology. He loved the shop, the first thing he’d do every time he’d enter was to drag his hands along the spines of every book sitting there. Dusted, furbished, old and new, he’d draw in the scent of knowledge. From his frequent visits, the managers of the shop knew his name and knew what he would be searching for. They’d give him free books that were damaged by their previous owners, and he’d always take pleasure in keeping them for himself. His own little sanctuary was housed by that (sometimes) bustling shop. He’d always be there whenever one of his favorite authors was. He’d be there when they weren’t, either. After purchasing his book and also receiving a new bookmark, he exited the shop and started heading towards the central fountain, the hallmark of Hogwarts. It was a place he went to when he wanted to relax and read. A flash of peace while the noise around him became white. He liked white noise while he read. It allowed him to focus better.

“Water Hemlock, characterized by its thick and tuberous base, pinnate leaves, and whitish-yellowish flowers. A surprisingly potent poison. Unlike any other plant, Water Hemock’s powerful sap can either kill intentionally or unintentionally. This plant is usually the killer of livestock.”

The white noise soon became erratic, panicked, and gory.

Step, step, step, tap tap tap,

He looked up from his book.

Flash, crackle, pop, fizz! BOOM!

Screaming.

His transfixed gaze set upon the image of the Water Hemlock quickly fell into the sight of blood pooling a few feet away from him. The stiff face of a student a few feet more from the blood. His eyes widened, and suddenly-

Darkness.

A professor (he assumed) whipped their cape around Eddard’s frozen body, sending him toward more professors surrounding groups of students. As the darkness enveloped him, he feared it was him who was next. His breath heavied, and his eyes grew wider. Suddenly, the darkness escaped and light crept through. “Are you alright?” The voice asked him. His vision quit blurring, it was Professor Slughorn. Words couldn’t form in his head. Nothing came out of his mouth except for heavy breathing. Professor Slughorn drew a deep breath and grabbed his hand. In his hand, he placed a heavy, leathery book. He looked down at it. It was the book he was reading before it happened. He gripped it tightly. Slughorn disappeared. He was within a group of students. Some called for each other’s names, some asked for reports, and others were questioned by Dumbledore. Some time passed by while he was frozen in place. Slughorn brought Professor McGonagall in front of Eddie. “He hasn’t spoken,” Slughorn whispered into Dumbledore’s ear. She’d placed a hand on his face. “Are you alright, Mr. Tare?” His eyes were transfixed on the wreckage, the blood. Students were already being told to move away from the scene. He broke from his focus and looked at McGonagall. “Did you see something, Mr. Tare?” She asked him. He couldn’t respond. The fear consumed him. She nodded and looked back to Slughorn. “I will speak with him later, he needs to be back at Hogwarts, at once.” She’d then fixed up his tousled hair from the erratic movements from earlier. “Mr. Tare, you are safe.”

Suddenly he was walking with a large group of students back to Hogwarts. He knew their names, but few of them he didn’t know. Still death-gripping his book, the only thought in his head was the paragraph he read on Water Hemlock.

coded by archangel_

 

[krypt]

coralie robillard.

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  Taylor Lizy
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

The panicked tension that filled the afternoon air thrilled her. The sheer alarm in the eyes of their professors, desperately trying to keep track of their distressed pupils: a bunch of lambs with an invisible wild wolf in their midst. Her professors’ uncharacteristic uncertainty flooded Coralie’s nerves with an unexpected but electric sense of glee, which made her realise just how rarely she had felt so alive, so in control. Not the one constantly fidgeting, running around and spending sleepless nights to appease the demands of her professors, living in constant fear of less-than-stellar marks on her exams.

She could feel it in her heart that this bloodshed marked the starting point. All of this was a prelude that set into motion the plan to which her mother had alluded in her recent correspondence: alternatingly cold and curt or elaborate letters embellished with thinly veiled threats and lavish descriptions of her home life. Letters which had largely remained unanswered. Some of these letters were collecting dust in the bottom of her drawers, some – the most incriminating ones – had been discreetly disposed of.

Even with the commotion all around her, enveloping her in the chaos, the piercing stare of her hazel eyes remained transfixed on the two bodies lying on the ground, freshly covered up by a cloak. Not as much trying to decipher who the blood-stained clothes had belonged to – although this question lazily floated in the back of her mind – but rather gazing in detached fascination in much the same way one would view a car crash. Or a dead bird lying on the ground in the few seconds that it takes the approaching person to determine whether the obscure object is the mangled bones, blood and mud-stained feathers of a once-living creature or just ordinary waste, carelessly disposed of and now littering the street.

The subtle pull of her head girl duties finally grounded Coralie to reality, and so, for the convenience of the professors and out of the instinct to make herself useful.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re all safe now, just stick with me for now, okay? We’ll get you out of here in no time.”

With commanding hand gestures and vague but comforting words, she attempted to herd the younger students in her vicinity. Her hawk stare paid particular attention to the students she recognised as, in a different setting, adorned with blue and bronze embellishments. She bowed her head in a solemn, mournful nod as she passed on the guardian duties to an approaching professor who happened to be Professor Sprout. With her hands finally free to be crossed over her chest for comfort, Coralie noticed that her palms and wrists were trembling.

“I-I didn’t see anything, it all happened so fast… I'm sorry I can’t be of more help...”

Coralie would stammer more than once during the time that the older students were forced to remain on the scene, her upper lip quivering and her eyes widened in dismayed sadness. The fear of eyes gazing too closely at her expression, one of artificial shock, made her fill her lungs deeply with smoky air, lower her eyelids solemnly and gaze at others through thick, dark eyelashes rather than straight ahead.

Although Coralie was speaking the truth when claiming that she had no information, she wished that she had more details at her disposal. That she had seen the sparks of colour and dripping blood rather than filled in the blanks from the anxious or energised whispers of freshly-scarred thirteen-year-olds. Someone whispered that the injured student who was lucky enough to get whisked away for treatment rather than lay in the rubble was Agatha Buttons, a girl a year below who Coralie knew from Choir. Very kind and bubbly, pretty, popular, a hauntingly beautiful mezzo-soprano, had been chosen for a solo over Coralie more than once. Poor Agatha, someone muttered in the middle of a loud sniff. Poor Agatha indeed. This sniffling was followed by protesting remarks that offered another alternative for the mysterious identity of the injured student.

Just as Coralie was about to understand the futility of eavesdropping on the chatter in her vicinity, a sudden thought flashed in her mind. What if her mother’s letters had contained more than met the eye? Celeste Nott was well-aware that her daughter possessed a clever mind able to decipher secret codes, though, admittedly, enough caution not to let these texts fall into the wrong hands and sheer spite as well, which prevailed in this case. A Ravenclaw prefect who she was speaking to caught the suddenly alert look on the blonde’s face, and Coralie glanced away in seeming diffidence.

Her saving grace was the appearance of a certain blonde near her. With a polite, respectful nod, Coralie excused herself from the conversation which had already wilted away and approached the other girl. Taylor Delano. One of Coralie’s closest friends, though perhaps not as much due to shared heartfelt conversations well past midnight and braiding each other’s hair in the Ravenclaw common room as their similarities and shared goals. Blonde, pureblood, Ravenclaw. Cold-blooded and academically vicious. Even stronger with their wits put together. In all honesty, Taylor’s demeanour reminded Coralie quite a bit of her own mother, which was a disconcerting and yet strangely comforting resemblance.

”Taylor,”

she spoke the other girl’s name, a simple, firm acknowledgement of her presence and request for her attention.

Coralie noticed how dispassionate her tone sounded to her own ears. She wasn’t really worried about Taylor’s well-being: as long as she had known the other Ravenclaw girl, Taylor always emerged unscathed from any trouble. If anything, she was mildly afraid to inquire whether Taylor was somehow involved in bringing about the mayhem. And so, the girl adopted a softer, more worried tone. Didn’t let her paranoia about some discernible hint of fakeness laced through her words, unnatural coming from her, bother her.

”Thank goodness. Are you alright? Didn’t get hurt?”

She arched her eyebrows in concern as she stared at her friend.

Taking a step closer and glancing over her shoulder to make sure that no one was paying attention to their conversation, Coralie lowered her voice but maintained her composure enough not to appear exceedingly conspiratorial.

”The students that died, it’s… them, isn’t it?”

Coralie hoped that Taylor would understand what she truly wished to ask. At least the spark of disdain that flashed in her eyes as she muttered the word “them” should have been indicative enough, though she ultimately mouthed the word ”muggle-borns."

Coralie yearned for someone else to verify her conclusion, to put her mind at ease before her nerves got the best of her. Before her imaginative, paranoia-riddled mind managed to conjure various different scenarios in which Coralie was now in real danger. A confirmation that the figures laying before them were muggle-borns or at the very least truly anyone but two of their own kind.

steal

maribou state

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[dreamglow]

click!

cobi

gryffindor

location

hogsmeade

mood

furious

outfit

interactions

ciaran

tags

social

where dwell the brave at heart

The sound of running water filled the otherwise silent room, broken up briefly by the hands that dipped under them momentarily before reaching for the soap. The soap was then rinsed from skin, the water was shut off and a cloth towel was grabbed. The towel was set back, sweatshirt pocket patted to make sure the wand was still there and the door was opened.

Screams of what could only be described as terror and carnage filled the air when Cobi exited the bathroom. Abandoning the original thought of going back to his table and finishing the butterbeer awaiting him, he pulled his wand out of his pocket and sprinted outside. The coppery scent of blood had permeated the air and filled his nostrils the second his sneakers crushed a leaf underneath them and he knew whatever attempt he was about to make to help out or save them was futile, but he had to try.

He pushed his way through the throng of terrified and crying people to see what happened and then really wished he hadn’t. Bile rose in his throat as he watched blood continue to spill from his now deceased peers. He didn’t know them, they didn’t know him, but that didn’t matter; they went to the same school, were all comrades, all schoolmates.

“They’re muggle-borns,” some elderly witch next to him spoke to the wizard next to her.

“Who? How do you know?”

“The deceased, they just announced it. . .”

Muggle-borns. They were muggle-borns. The deceased were muggle-borns. He was muggle-born.

Cobi’s body started to tremble, but not from fear. No. It started to tremble from rage. He wanted to find the attackers, drag them back, teach each and every one of them a lesson and then toss them in Azkaban. The wand held in a tight grip at his side started to heat up at the thought, but before it could be expanded upon further, someone bumped into him. Turning his head slightly to the side, he saw it was Ciaran. His friend's question was cut off before it could be finished, but it didn’t matter, he understood.

Was he going to be okay? Honestly, he didn’t know. Eventually, yes, he would be, but right now? Right now he wasn’t. He just witnessed his peers being killed, saw their blood being spilled. He was angry, he wanted to find the attackers and throw them in Azkaban, he wanted the whole ‘pure-blood supremacy’ lunacy ended, and he wanted to stop the attacks from continuing.

But right now what he needed to do was to go back to Gryffindor tower and relay to Rory and Tate, who had stayed back to finish a monstrous essay they left for the last minute, what just happened and to plan his course of action. However, he was held back by Ciaran’s hand on his arm. A good thing too, since Dumbledore had just asked him questions. “No, professor, I was in the bathroom,” And I really wish my bladder didn’t choose that moment to be full, or else I could have tried to help stop it. “By the time I ran out here, it was too late.”

Too late.
It seemed as if he was always too late.

“Are you going to be okay, Cobi?”

The question brought him out of his trance. He didn’t even realize they’d started walking, his feet having moved on their own accord. “What?” Then he registered the question; it was the same one from earlier, the one Ciaran had been trying to ask before being interrupted. “Oh.” Again, was he? The honest answer was no, but he didn’t want anyone to worry about him as they had a much bigger and dangerous problem at hand. Instead, he changed the subject.

“I want you staying in our dorm tonight,” he spoke in a low voice. Not at all an answer to the question, but whatever. “I don’t think it was a random attack. It happened right in front of the pub where you were, and two students were killed, two muggle-borns,” Red sparks shot from the end of his wand before he hastily shoved it back in his sweatshirt pocket. “The ones who did it are probably the lunatics that think there should only be purebloods, but I just can’t help but feel it was somehow meant to be a message to both muggle-borns and you. And if you don’t come to Gryffindor dorm tonight, I’m going to yours.”

better days

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[social]

Hogsmeade was a particularly fun time for Ambrose. There was a constant hustle and bustle of those students who experienced it for the first time and then the steady footsteps of older ones who knew exactly where to go. Disgruntled adults who didn’t care for children would often scatter upon Hogwarts’ arrival, and it just gave everyone an escape from their everyday life. He liked it, he liked the escape. So it wasn’t surprising that he hurried to go with the rest of his year to Hogsmeade, chatting with them and bantering as they bounced between various shops. The group of boys had passed by the entrance of the Three Broomsticks when the Ravenclaw student spotted a familiar mask from across the clearing.

The flash of carved metal clutched by gloved fingers made his eyes widen in shock as he hurriedly shoved his friends through the front door of the shop, much to their shock and alarm. Their words of complaints and annoyance were cut off by an explosion of magic behind them as a fight began. His eyes were wide as he continued to shove his friends to safety before making his way out the door, having spotted a third year from his house near the chaos. He knew what was happening and why, but for some reason, his body moved on its own and seemed to reject what his brain told him to stay out of.

Spells crackling and exploding caused his ears to ring as he hurriedly grabbed the young Ravenclaw student, hiding the girl’s face against his chest as he pulled her down an alleyway and kept them hidden against the cold stone. He could hear her wailing, and feel her tears seeping against the fabric of his sweater, but he did his best to cover her up and hold her close, hoping to keep her from seeing anything. His green eyes were wide and his right hand clutched his wand, keeping it ready in case he needed to protect himself. While he doubted he’d be a target due to his own affiliation, he never was positive. He was a student, a child, he was easily forgotten by other Death Eaters. Surely they wouldn’t remember him when they pointed their wand at him.

The battle ended before anyone else could get involved, and with a rush of black smoke, the Death Eaters were gone. Ambrose loosened his grip on the underclassman as soon as he heard familiar voices from staff that rushed around, desperate to find the students. Multiple professors quickly appeared from Hogwarts to assist in the aftermath, clearly needing to tend to their own injured colleagues and their precious students. The seventh year emerged from the alleyway but kept his housemate’s face hidden with his jacket as he led her over to a familiar flustered figure.

“Professor! Professor Trelawney!” He called out to the woman and she whirled around, straightening her glasses with trembling fingers.

“Oh! Oh! Oh Merlin’s beard are you alright my boy? And oh- Oh my dear, are you injured?” Fretting hands were placed on Ambrose’s face and then the young girl’s as she cried, soon leaping into the arms of her professor. “There there, no need to cry. We will get you back home. Don’t worry.” Although clearly nervous and on the verge of tears herself, the curly-haired woman began to escort her students through the crowd, taking special care to hide the youngest from the carnage. Ambrose’s eyes wandered as they grouped up with the rest of the students for a headcount, absorbing the sight in front of him.

He could see the limp bodies of the students, blood pooling behind their broken frames, their blood status almost on full display simply from their deaths alone. He saw Professor Burbage trying to stand, despite her wails of pain and agony as she desperately reached for the students she did her best to protect. Blood had matted her blonde hair and her wand was tightly gripped in her hand. She was hurriedly pulled away as they tried their best to get her into a carriage to take back to Hogwarts for medical attention.

Ambrose could hear the whispered voices mixed with cries of pity and sadness. ‘Poor Agatha’ ‘They had it coming.’ ‘I heard they were muggle-borns.’ ‘Who cares what House they were in? As long as I don’t know them, I don’t care.’ He felt a familiar cold pit in his stomach that twisted painfully as he fought to reason with what had happened. He couldn’t grasp it though. Unknowingly he had stopped in front of the deceased students and was watching their bodies get covered with coats, his own being placed over their bodies. What was he doing?

“Mr. Lovelace! Please, move away from there.” The worried hands of the Head of Ravenclaw tugged on his wrists and pulled the confused boy away from them. “It’s best to remember them before this happened.” He barely processed the words and only gave a half-hearted response as he awkwardly stumbled over the rubble, clearly shaken up. He knew that Death Eaters killed, that this was the goal, the mission, the thing his parents wanted him to partake in, he just didn’t think it would be real. For some reason, in the back of his mind, he thought that it would just be a far-off nightmare he’d face later in life, not while he was in school, not while he bore the scar on his arm.

"Head back to the castle Ambrose, we'll talk once we're all home safe. Please hurry, I don't want you lingering here." The professor was somewhat flustered from fear as he gently pushed his student forward before he quickly went off to help gather the stragglers and send them back to safety.

Tags: open | Location: Hogsmeade | Wearing: 01

coded by social

 

[bayleen]

scroll

Slytherin

Sebastian.

mood

Exhausted/Worried

outfit

x

location

Hogsmeade

interactions

None at the moment but mentions Sera and Elena.

tags

None

Dervish and Banges, a popular wizarding shop, was unusually crowded on that particular day. However, Sebastian didn't mind the packed space since he wasn't there for any specific shopping. It was more of a need to escape the confines of his usual surroundings and breathe some fresh air. Despite the crowd, he decided not to stay for too long and opted to explore on his own for a while. Little did he know that chaos was about to ensue.


Suddenly, everything happened in a blur. Sebastian found himself instinctively lunging towards a young student who seemed to be in imminent danger of being struck by a shop sign that was dangerously close to falling off. In that moment, Sebastian's faith in himself propelled him to push the boy out of harm's way, but unfortunately, he couldn't escape unscathed. As the sign descended, it collided with Sebastian's left shoulder, causing him excruciating pain.


The boy who Sebastian had helped was now standing mere inches away, a worried expression etched across his freckled face. He anxiously asked, "Are you alright?" However, Sebastian chose to ignore the question, his focus fixated on the unfolding chaos.

"What's going on?"

he demanded, his urgency evident. The ginger-haired boy extended a helping hand to Sebastian, but he pulled his injured arm away, not wanting any assistance for his legs were still functioning properly.

Whispering the words that sent a shiver down Sebastian's spine, the boy uttered, "Death eaters." In that instant, Sebastian's mind went blank, devoid of any coherent thoughts for what felt like an eternity. The distant sound of terrified screams served as a jolt to his senses, snapping him back to reality. His fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and he knew he had to act swiftly.

In that moment, there were only two things on Sebastian's mind - Elena and Sera. Despite the strained relationship he shared with his sister since entering Hogwarts, the thought of losing her was inconceivable. Sera held a special place in his heart, and though their arrangement had been canceled, his love for her remained unwavering. Nothing, not even his father or the menacing presence of death eaters, could interfere with his determination to protect her.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Sebastian rose to his feet, pushing through the sharp pains that jabbed at his injured shoulder. He maneuvered through the sea of injured individuals, his pace transitioning from a walk to a full-blown sprint as panic and adrenaline coursed through his veins. As he weaved through the crowd, faces became familiar - muggle-borns he recognized. He felt a pang of guilt for his initial relief, but he couldn't help but feel grateful that his loved ones were safe for the moment.

The adrenaline rush began to wane, and Sebastian could now feel the full extent of the pain shooting through his shoulder. He collapsed onto the ground, drawing the attention of a nearby professor. The old, haggard face of the professor stared down at him, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you alright, lad?" the professor inquired. Sebastian looked up, nodding slightly, grateful for the helping hand extended towards him. "It'll be alright. We'll figure this out back at the school. Just head there now, my boy," the professor reassured him.

Casting one final glance at the wreckage around him, Sebastian turned his gaze towards the familiar silhouette of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Holding his injured shoulder, he hoped the pressure would alleviate the throbbing pain that now threatened to give him a pounding headache.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Lizy]

mood :

intrigued, pleased

location :

hogsmeade

outfit :

mentions:

n/a

interactions:

coralie ( krypt )

Delano

;; Taylor

Taylor had decided to treat herself to a shopping trip. Stopping by Gladrags Wizardwear for some new clothing, prepared to spend a drastic amount of money for her own enjoyment, she was in a fitting room when the attacks occurred. Initially dismissing the screams she'd heard coming from outside as a ruckus resulting from some childish excitement, the glass she heard shatter was what caught her attention. Becoming more alert, she stood at attention, clutching her wand tightly in case she was made to defend herself. She peered around the curtain of her fitting room; the few people inside the shop were ducking under tables or behind racks of robes for cover. She was able to catch a glimpse through the window of the shop, but she couldn't see much—just students running. The sounds were more alarming than anything. Gut-wrenching screams and sounds of total commotion flooded her senses. Unsure of what was happening or why, Taylor stayed put. It seemed as though nothing was happening inside the shop, and she wasn't about to risk her safety to find out the cause of this chaos.

When things seemed to have died down and she saw others emerging from their places of safety, she apprehensively exited her fitting room and made her way outside the shop. She had to find out what had happened. Maneuvering around some broken glass, she saw various students helping others recover from the commotion. Spotting a younger girl on the ground alone, crying with a bloodied knee, Taylor immediately looked the other way and pretended she didn't see that. She didn't need to get stuck caring for some scared first-year student; she needed to know what was going on. She spotted a boy, maybe in his third year or so, who looked uninjured and approached him. "What happened?" she asked in a neutral tone, indicating no fear over the situation. "There... there was an attack," the boy mumbled. "Who attacked?" As she asked, the boy seemed to get choked up over the question and burst into tears, one of his nearby friends arriving to pull him away and console him. Utterly useless; some people couldn't even get it together to answer a simple question.

Looking towards an area that was populated largely by professors and ministry officials, she drew nearer in an attempt to get some information. That's when she saw them. The bodies. Taylor had never seen a dead body before. It made her feel... strange. She wasn't scared or sad; she wanted to see more. It was like she craved the bloodshed, which did scare her in a way, but she'd convinced herself that the craving made her a stronger person. But whose bodies were these? Was she in any danger herself? Lingering on the outskirts of the crowd, she was able to overhear a couple ministry officials conversing. They were extremely quiet, trying not to allow any students to hear their discussion. But Taylor was able to pick up tiny bits of dialogue: "the two... muggle-borns... attacked... deceased... half-blood in the infirmary." By the end of the conversation, she was able to piece together that the corpses she had seen belonged to two muggle-borns and that one half-blood was injured enough to be hospitalized. She was safe. She was a pure-blood. A smirk crossed her face for a split second; it would not be noticed unless someone was carefully observing her, and even then they may mistake her expression for shock. She traded this expression for a mask of grief to match her peers and gain sympathy from any professors who noticed her.

From the demographics of the victims, one thought crossed her mind. Death eaters. Recalling some of her father's words, it all made sense. Our time will soon come. She began to wish she had been outside when the attacks occurred, maybe she could've helped with the efforts to rid the world of impurity. Would've impressed her father as well. She had taken a few steps to exit Hogsmeade before a familiar face approached her. Someone she considered a good friend, perhaps her best friend, Coralie Robillard. "Coralie," she said, meeting the girl's neutral greeting with one of her own, accompanied by a curt nod of her head. Coralie was someone she considered to be her equal. Pureblood, highly respectable family, exceptionally talented, and intelligent. This surprised her to hear the girl express concerns over her wellbeing. These concerns were laced with a fake kindness Taylor knew all too well because she'd done the same thing many, many times. The fellow pure-blood should know that they weren't in any danger.

"I'm fine. Of course, I'm fine. We're both perfectly fine," she replied, indicating neither of them had any reason to be afraid. Following Coralie's example of lowing her voice, but scoffing over her mouthing the word muggle-borns she spoke quietly. "Yes, they were both muggle-borns," She figured Coralie was too occupied with her head girl duties of helping other students to be able to get information about the attacks. Taylor was glad she wasn't made a head girl; she simply didn't have the instinct or desire to look out for other people like that. She ushered the other girl to walk with her, away from the more crowded area and towards the outskirts of Hogsmeade to begin walking back towards the castle. "And the student who was hospitalized was a half-blood," she continued to explain in hushed tones. "It's starting. This is great for us."

coded by reveriee.

 

[krypt]

trevor flint.

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Visits to Hogsmeade were always a welcomed change of pace, providing ample opportunities to laze around in the local pubs and spend the Flint family’s hard-earned galleons on butterbeer and liquor. Although the thrill of the hunt for under-the-counter drinks had waned as Trevor had become of age, if pestered by a particularly brave younger student, he could pinpoint some of the underage imbibing opportunities in Hogsmeade. Trevor had just downed a butterbeer, promptly followed by firewhisky, and was debating between another firewhisky or spiced mead when, judging by the sounds and incoming smell of smoke, all hell had broken loose in the middle of Hogsmeade.

Trevor had been nodding along to the background music blaring through the inn that he and his companions had chosen for the afternoon, cheeks slightly flushed from the warmth radiating from the fireplace and alcohol. Later he wouldn’t exactly remember what they were discussing at the critical point in time, but the main contenders were strategies for obliterating the Gryffindor Quidditch team during that Quidditch season and whether the butterbeer at this establishment was better than that in the Three Broomsticks. This location was one of the murkier and less crowded inns in Hogsmeade and therefore marginally hidden away from the prying eyes of professors. At first, a bartender and a waiter who had just ducked inside with empty glasses exchanged a puzzled glance. The background music was lowered, then switched off completely during a drum solo, as the severity of the chaos outside became unmistakable. Something was very, very wrong.

As the inn crowd dispersed in the street, Trevor and his friends finished the last remnants of their drinks and followed suit. Eventually, his eyes landed on the figures lying in the street. The chuckles and sneers that he had exchanged with his peers warped into stunned silence. It took his mind several painfully long seconds to register the entirely unfamiliar nature of the tragic scene that he was gazing at. His senses might have been dulled by firewhisky, and yet, as he felt the dull feeling of sickness creeping in his stomach, he desperately wished that he had managed to have more to drink before leaving the warm, familiar walls of the local inn.

Trevor had witnessed his fair share of various lacerations, bruises and broken bones, and yet, he had never seen so much blood pooling in one place, enwrapping the limp body of one person.

"What in bloody hell?"

The sound of his own voice, inappropriately loud in its sincere voicing of his confusion, assured him that the scene in front of him was, indeed, not a figment of his not particularly elaborate imagination. And yet, all background sounds had inexplicably melted into indistinguishable white noise. Trevor couldn’t be sure whether Finnian Yaxley, his friend and fellow beater for the Slytherin Quidditch team, had muttered something before wandering off Merlin knows where or not. Nonetheless, when Trevor shook himself out of the brief daze, Yaxley was no longer standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Trevor. He had vanished without a trace.

”Bloody idiot,”

with an exasperated sigh, Trevor muttered out loud, more to himself than anyone else, and rolled his eyes.

”Where the fuck did he go?”

As he turned around away from the macabre scene, mere moments after some cloaks had been hurriedly thrown over the two bodies, Trevor nearly collided with another person. ”Is there something that you wish to share, Mr Flint?” Professor Vector had suddenly materialised in front of him, with a flock of younger students in tow. Her tone was cold as ice, which was nothing out of the ordinary. The only entity that could match the terrifying nature of Arithmancy was the professor who taught the wretched subject, and her disdain for the Flint boy was thinly veiled at the best of times.

”No, no, Professor, pardon me.”

Luckily, he managed to compose himself enough to provide a quick, somewhat dignified retort and bow his head rather than freeze up. ”Then have some respect and mind your manners for once, Trevor.” With a last venomous stare over her shoulder, the professor had passed him by and left Trevor behind to stand in bewilderment.

Despite the alcohol-induced warmth in his cheeks, Trevor suddenly shivered. The air had turned cold, unwelcoming, and not just due to his brief interaction with a contemptuous professor. It was really Yaxley’s fault, the idiot who had bailed just in time for Vector to sink her claws into Trevor. Yaxley would get a piece of his mind, eventually. Trevor only hoped that the other boy hadn’t wandered off somewhere where he would ultimately join the fate of the two figures on the ground.

As his mind once again returned to the bodies, he felt another shiver down his spine, this time not from cold. Perhaps, selfishly, the thought of one of his friends being one of the people on the ground made the reality finally sink in. He was stunned to realise that he wasn’t even mad at Yaxley, or Professor Vector for that matter, but rather just infuriated by the sinking, uncontrollable feeling of guilt pervading the pit of his stomach. Two adolescents were lying dead in front of him and here he was, vaguely tipsy and on the verge of hyperventilation but entirely unharmed. Not even a hair was out of place on the youngest Flint’s head.

”Dead… muggle-borns… it all happened so quickly…” The loud, erratic whispers exchanged between two students nearby travelled to Trevor’s ears. The pair seemed way too young not to be guarded by Professor Vector or whoever else was assigned the duties of a mother goose, judging by how their eyebrows barely reached the height of Trevor’s chest. ”...a Death Eater.”

”Wait, what did you just say?”

His entire body shifted towards the two kids, eyes staring daggers through them in raw apprehension. The children immediately jumped in near unison, startled by the sudden, booming voice of the older boy. His voice had always been so damn loud. Excellent for putting other rowdy, thick-skulled, hormonal teenage boys in their place, less useful when trying to be considerate – perhaps kind even, given the wretched circumstances. One of the kids let out a fresh sniffle and made a quick gesture to brush something out of her eyes. Trevor’s eyes were drawn to the palms of the girl’s hands, stains that looked quite like blood covering her fingers. Noticing his look, the girl immediately pushed her hands in her pockets.

”Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,”

he muttered gently, trying to ignore the parasitic regret expanding and spreading through his sternum like lead.

The damage had already been done. The other kid tapped lightly on the shoulder of the girl with the blood-stained hands, and the two of them turned and started walking. Their hurried steps swiftly accelerated to a steady sprint. It didn’t even pop into Trevor’s dazed mind to hold out a glimmer of sardonic hope that the kids wouldn’t crash right into Professor Vector’s menacing frame. If they did, a public execution for a certain Slytherin student would surely be in order.

The pervasive smell of smoke lingered in the air and Trevor could have sworn that he noticed a trace of something metallic mixed with the fumes as well. With a renewed urgency he wished that he had another drink with him, to pacify the thudding heartbeat that was ringing in his ears. His fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands, jaw clenched so tight he might have pulled a muscle. Even as he lowered his eyelids, the crimson red hue of spilled blood seemed inexplicably to remain swimming in front of his eyes. It would likely take more than just alcohol to wash that sight out of his system, to numb his brain completely.

tyrants

catfish and the bottlemen

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[bayleen]

scroll

gryffindor

Elena.

mood

scared

outfit

x

location

Hogsmeade

interactions

Professor Night.

tags

None

Elena stood outside the shop, observing her friend's every move. She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as she watched her friend emerge from the store, holding two tantalizing cinnamon rolls in hand. The aroma of freshly baked pastries wafted through the air, enticing Elena's senses and making her mouth water in anticipation. Her friend's radiant smile revealed her pearly white teeth, adding to the allure of the delicious treats. With a gleeful expression, her friend extended one of the cinnamon rolls towards Elena, offering her a taste of the delectable delight. Unable to resist, Elena eagerly accepted the pastry, taking a moment to appreciate its perfect golden-brown exterior and the swirls of fragrant cinnamon sugar. As she opened her mouth to take a bite, the warm, buttery scent enveloped her, heightening her anticipation. However, her friend's mischievous gaze caught Elena's attention, and she couldn't help but notice the mocking tone in her friend's voice as she asked, "You good?"

Elena was in the middle of chewing the biggest bite she had ever taken when her mouth suddenly opened to speak. She quickly regretted it as she began to choke on her food. Panicking, she tried to gasp for air but struggled to catch her breath. Her blonde-haired friend, who was standing beside her, immediately recognized the distress in Elena's eyes and reacted swiftly. "Oh my god... never mind, just walk and eat, come on," her friend exclaimed, taking a bite of her own roll. Elena, still recovering from her choking episode, finally managed to get the large piece of food down her throat. She looked at her friend and burst into laughter for no apparent reason, causing a chain reaction of cackling between the two friends. This spontaneous laughter was something they often did, completely unscripted. Their bond and shared sense of humor were evident in these moments, where even a near choking incident couldn't dampen the joy they found in each other's company.


The duo finished indulging in the delectable cinnamon rolls, relishing the sweet, warm flavors that filled their mouths. Feeling the stickiness on their hands, they made their way to the nearby inn, with Elena leading the charge, unable to tolerate the unpleasant sensation. Inside, they swiftly located the restroom, eager to clean up and rid themselves of the sticky residue. As they emerged, their lips adorned with freshly applied lipstick, Elena's friend leaned in, speaking in a hushed and excited voice. Her words tumbled out, revealing the thrilling news that her summer crush had professed his love for her. They had plans to make their relationship official during the upcoming winter break. Elena listened attentively, her laughter bubbling up as her friend stumbled over a misplaced cobblestone while passionately describing her crush. Extending a helping hand, Elena lifted her friend back onto her feet, their walk continuing uninterrupted. The topic shifted effortlessly to their classes, the assignments they needed to tackle together, and the dates for their next study session.

In the blink of an eye, their lives were forever changed. It happened so quickly, in a mere matter of seconds, as if time itself had conspired against them. The death eaters descended upon them with a horrifying ferocity, catching the duo off guard. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, innocent victims of a cruel twist of fate. Yet, amidst the chaos and terror, a glimmer of hope emerged. Elena, filled with a fierce determination, refused to be a mere bystander while darkness engulfed their world. With trembling hands, she brandished her wand and sprinted after one of the professors, her heart pounding in her chest. "Elena?!" Her friend's desperate cry echoed in her ears, a plea for caution and safety. Ignoring the fear that threatened to consume her, Elena found herself standing alongside a handful of brave wizards and students, their wands raised defiantly against the encroaching death eater. But in the midst of this tumultuous battle, Elena's focus wavered. The screams and frantic footsteps overwhelmed her senses, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. A terrified student, eyes wide with sheer terror, collided with her, sending her sprawling backward. In that heart-stopping moment, her wand slipped from her grasp, lost in the sea of frightened faces. And then, in a cruel twist of fate, she found herself face to face with death itself. Time seemed to freeze as the death eater charged toward her, a menacing figure ready to snuff out her very existence. With her eyes squeezed shut, Elena braced herself for the inevitable impact, her own cries muffled by the pounding of her heart. But instead, what pierced her ears was the anguished scream of her friend, shattering the fragile sanctuary of her mind. Her eyes snapped open, and a surge of adrenaline surged through her veins. She sprinted towards her friend's side, desperate to lend aid, only to be halted by one of the professors who valiantly fought against the death eater. Breathless and trembling, Elena finally reached her friend's lifeless body. The air seemed to evaporate from her lungs, leaving her gasping for breath. A primal scream welled up inside her, but when she opened her mouth, no sound escaped. Her vision blurred, tears streaming down her face, mingling with the stains of snot and blood that marred her once-pink cheeks. In that heartbreaking moment, sorrow swallowed her whole, leaving behind an emptiness that would forever haunt her soul.

In the darkest hour of Elena's life, she mustered the courage to unleash a desperate plea for help, her voice trembling with fear and anguish. With every fiber of her being, she screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping against hope that someone, anyone, would come to their rescue. The sound of her voice echoed through the streets of Hogsmeade, carrying her despair and desperation to the farthest corners of the world. And then, like a ray of hope amidst the suffocating darkness, a professor appeared, drawn by the haunting sound of her cries. With a firm grip, she pulled Elena away from the lifeless body that lay before her, the sight etched in her mind forever. The chaos around her began to subside, but the echoes of the screams continued to reverberate in her ears, a haunting reminder of the horrors she had witnessed. The professor, recognizing the fragile state of her sanity, lightly slapped her face, a jolt to bring her back to reality. Through tear-filled eyes, Elena finally registered the presence of Professor Night, the embodiment of solace in this nightmare. With a mixture of confusion and relief, she tried to comprehend her words, struggling to find meaning amidst the chaos that consumed her. As she enveloped her in a tight embrace, her touch offering a semblance of comfort, Elena's racing heart gradually slowed its frenzied pace. Professor Night's words, spoken softly and with genuine concern, sought to offer assurance amidst the sea of uncertainty. "She's going to be okay," she whispered, his voice carrying the weight of sadness and the resilience of hope. In that moment, Elena clung to those words like a lifeline, desperately seeking solace in the face of unimaginable tragedy.

As Elena turned to face her friend's lifeless body, a flood of emotions washed over her. The weight of grief settled heavily on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, each one a painful reminder of the loss she had just experienced. In that moment, amidst the chaos and confusion, Elena knew better than to believe the words her Professor had spoken. The word "liar" escaped her lips in a hushed whisper. Her professor, sensing her anguish, guided her towards another 7th year student who offered a helping hand. Elena grasped onto it, desperately clinging to any semblance of support in this nightmare. She longed to stay by her friend's side, to scream for her to wake up from this cruel fate. But as she gazed upon the lifeless expression on her friend's face, a haunting emptiness that seemed to consume her very soul, Elena made the painful choice to accept the student's assistance. It was a bittersweet decision, torn between the desire to hold onto her friend and the unbearable agony of seeing her in such a state.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[fieldsofred]

MOOD: overwhelmed.

LOCATION: the streets of hogsmeade

basics

MENTIONS: leo @ ; carian @

INT: open ; @

tags

TL ; DR: dazed and reeling from the attack, brigid helps a third year try and find a teacher.

tl;dr

brigid

❝ What's in your head, in your head? ❞

It felt like static had descended over everything, for a minute Brigid couldn't remember who she was, where she was or what had just happened. Everything came into focus her hands shaking barely able to hold onto her wand. She couldn't think long enough to remember what spells she had cast if any. Smoke billowed from the fires that burned all around. Something cracked underneath her foot as she took a wavering step back. Shattered glass cracked further from her weight. Her ears hadn't quite stopped ringing yet when the screaming started. Brigid hadn't had any plans for her trip to Hogsmeade. She hadn't even gone with anyone in particular. This was one of those times where she could be alone but not entirely lonely. Her best plans came when walking up and down various aisles of the shops. She didn't plan to spend the whole day alone, she was going to swing by the Three Broomsticks and sit with whoever she knew. But at the moment she couldn't remember what shop she had even left, slowly details trickled back into the forefront of her mind. Red, Blue, Green, determined cries of spells and counterspells. Brigid spun around, she saw many familiar faces whose names she could not remember. Every part of her was screaming to run and hide. That this was her fault, that if she just got small enough that it wouldn't hurt that bad. Her arm was yanked from behind, Brigid spun half ready for a fight and the other half ready to start apologizing.

"Brie, it's me, we need help please," A small voice said, a young girl in a dirt covered Slytherin uniform held tightly onto her. Dark hair, round deer like eyes, braces, fuck it was Maggie. Maggie was a third year muggleborn student that had latched onto her when Brigid was in her fourth year. Brigid had a strange knack for attracting children looking for an older sister figure. Every year there was a new collection of first years who found her distant and proud attitude very 'cool'. Because of that it felt like there was always a hoard of children anxious for any form of validation trailing after her. She didn't turn them away but sometimes she really wanted to. But they were kids and she did not fight kids on principal.

"Mags, Alright- Let's-- C'mon we need to get back to the school," Brigid said, she grabbed onto Maggie's hand and looked around for the teachers, "Did you come alone? Where are your friends?"

"They're ok I saw them with the Captain for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team," Maggie said, her grip on Brigid was white knuckled.

"With Leo? They'll be alright let's get you back, c'mon kid," Brigid pulled Maggie around the rubble, a determined glint in her eyes.

"Brigid, your head is bleeding, are you ok?" Maggie's voice wavered as she spoke.

"I'm good, just a cut, Pomfrey will check it when we get back ok?"

"Ok."

Brigid sighed and continued their march forward. She kept her gaze forward and slowly her thoughts began to clear. She started putting together what she could remember and her own theories. Undoubtedly she had been apart of the fight, a case of wrong place, wrong time. The offenders, death eaters an answer that was obvious to all. Ciaran, they had to have come for Ciaran. People had been coming for Ciaran for as long as they knew each other. He was supposed to be with Cobi and the others, he would be fine, Cobi would take care of him. Brigid had only been cut in the fight but was certain that there would be much worse injuries that would come out of this day. As to what they are, she would just have to wait and see.

code by valen t.