Reasons To Write Fanfiction (I'll Start):

reasons to write fanfiction (I'll start):

share a cool scene that popped into your head

evoke a particular emotion the canon makes you feel

song made you think of a character or idea from canon

make people feel the same way about a character you do

make dolls kiss for fun

explore ideas the canon hints at but doesn't do anything with

traumatize characters and make them suffer

coddle characters and let them rest

had an insane idea for a crack ship and now everyone needs to know

the author of the canon was wrong and must be fixed

use familiar characters to explore your own ideas and plotlines

canon is too short and you need to wallow in the universe of the story

I Know The End

Hogtober Day 2 - Feldcroft

Word Count: 777 Character(s): Percival Valley, Idris Valley, Anne Sallow, Sebastian Sallow, Solomon Sallow Setting: 5th year, Feldcroft Genre/Tags: Angst, curses

While Idris moved to defuse Sebastian and Solomon's budding argument, Percival had tuned the two out completely. His vision tunneled. The only thing he could hear was Anne. There was a roaring in his ears and his very bones wanted to shiver from the cold. The lanterns seemed to dim and the world fell away. There was nothing left. He was back in those woods as the shadows killed his sister and ripped his parents apart.

But there was something else. The hook in his ribs was pulling him, dragging him. He couldn't control his body as he stumbled forward and pulled out his wand. It was a compulsion he couldn't fight. He put his wand to Anne's chest and felt that click as something fell into place. Something was creeping up his wand, leaving behind invisible white hot trails of pain as it latched onto his arm.

He didn't hear the yelling from Solomon or Sebastian demanding to know what he was doing or the concern coming back to Idris now that they were too confused to be mad at him anymore. He didn't see the lights of the house go out, he didn't feel Anne's racing heart or panicked breathing.

All he knew was he had to pull.

He tried but nothing happened. The pain only got worse and worse until Percival cried out. He couldn't even pull away now, it had completely latched onto him. It was crawling towards his chest and the Ancient Magic within him was rising up to meet it. He didn't know why but he knew he couldn't let it happen. This time he grabbed his wand with two hands and pulled. He stumbled back, and with him was a red and black tendril of magic.

It wasn't like the Ancient Magic. This Magic looked like it was smoking, it's movements were erratic as it thrashed to escape the hold Percival had on it. He could feel it, it needed something to latch on to without Anne. It wanted him, it wanted to consume him.

Then a hand touched his shoulder and his senses expanded again. His arm felt like it was on fire. The curse exploded out of Percival's wand, ricocheting off walls and windows and tables. Anne screamed and ducked as cracks appeared in the ceiling. Sebastian covered her with his body to shield her. Solomon kept trying to catch it but was only able to hold it for a moment before it escaped his grasp.

“Percy!” The hand shook him and he blinked, refocusing on his twin. Idris. “You have to get it back!”

Right. Get it back. He had to get it back. Percival held his wand out and pulled his Ancient Magic to the surface again, letting it guide him. He followed its compulsions and thrust his wand out. The curse was pinned but it was still trying to escape. It kept yanking itself back towards Anne. Percival's heart dropped into his stomach.

“What is it doing?!” Sebastian cried.

“It wants to go back into Anne!” Percival shouted. “It needs a host or it's going to destroy Feldcroft!”

“I'll take it!” Sebastian volunteered immediately.

“No!” Anne protested. “It's my curse, I'll take it back!”

“You're finally free of it, I won't let it take you back!”

“It's my choice Sebastian! Percival, please!”

Percival glanced at Anne. The way her eyes were pleading with him made tears gather in his own. She just wanted her family to be safe. She already looked barely alive. This curse would kill her.

Then he looked at Sebastian, who's eyes were filled with determination. who just wanted to protect his sister and would do anything to do so but was doomed to lose her anyway.

Annabelle's body was on the floor, bloody and broken. Her eyes were empty as they stared right at him. He couldn't protect her. Why didn't he protect her? He should've protected her. Now the monster was back. He couldn't let it happen again.

“No.” Percival yanked his wand back, not towards Sebastian or Anne. He yanked it in. The curse flew across the house until it collided with his own chest.

The house was silent. No one moved. Finally the feeling was gone. He could think clearly again. He took a deep breath as he tried to reconcile with what he just did. He couldn't take it back, and he wouldn't even if he could. But the regret was beginning to build. Already he felt weaker than he ever had, like he could collapse right there.

“Percival what did you do?” Idris whispered. Percival met their eyes, an apology on his lips.

Then Percival screamed.

Hogtober Day 1 - Ollivander's

Word Count: 723 Characters/Relationship(s): Percival Valley Setting: 6th year, Ollivander's Genre/Tags: Fluff, blatant disregard for how magic works

“Mr Ollivander?” Percival called into the seemingly empty shop. He heard a crash and Ollivander arrived around the corner with a wide grin on his face.

“Ah, Mr. Valley!” Ollivander waved him inside. “Come, come! Dud you bring what I asked?”

“Uh yeah,” Percival nodded. The 6th year pulled out a large dragon hide pouch he'd decided to use for transport just in case. “I'm not sure why you need an erumpet horn. They're extremely volatile.”

“Not to worry, I have plenty of protections in place,” Ollivander assured him. “Hm, yes, yes this should work. Perhaps you could help me.”

“I'm not really a Beasts expert,” Percival pointed out. “That's more Idris's thing.”

“Not with any beasts,” Ollivander waved him off. “Come with me.”

Ollivander led him to the back of the shop where there was a desk littered with various woods and tools.

“I understand you are quite gifted with charms, yes?” Ollivander said.

“I don't know about gifted-”

“Nonsense, our dear Professor Fig constantly raved about your abilities,” Ollivander replied. “I've long believed there are wand cores beyond what us wandmakers have become comfortable with. Many potential cores have been deemed too unstable to make a proper wand but I am determined to prove otherwise.”

“You decided to start with an Erumpent horn?” Percival stared at him dumbfounded. There were so many other things to start with that didn't explode if handled with anything other than cautious care.

“And people say Ravenclaws aren't daring,” Ollivander grinned. “Now, I know you've studied wand lore, perhaps you can give me a new perspective.”

“Okay…” Percival took the time to look over the woods that had been laid out before him. “Erumpent horns are unstable, so a wood that's temperamental wouldn't go well. They have to be handle with delicate care so it's probably particular. It needs something equally suited for whatever magic it performs best.”

“Exactly my thinking,” Ollicander agreed. “My conundrum comes with what magics this horn would be best suited for. The immediate assumption would be defensive or offensive magic however when paired with wands such as aspen and blackthorn the results were rather…catastrophic.”

“What about hornbeam?” Percival suggested. “It's one of the most adaptive wand woods, usually adopting to its owners best form of magic. Then you wouldn't have to find the horn's best magic at all.”

“Interesting,” Ollivander hummed. He shuffled around the back area of the shop until he pulled hornbeam wood from a drawer and carried it back to the desk.

Percival was quickly shooed back to the front of the shop while Ollivander worked, an action that reminded all too much of winter during his fifth year. But this time he wasn't waiting for a wand to save the Wizarding World, just the pursuit of magical discovery. It was nice to not worry for the fate of the world and instead wait curiously for an experiment to conclude. It was also much more exciting.

Just as Percival was thinking he had yet to hear an explosion Ollivander emerged with a cylindrical hornbeam wand in hand. Percival rushed over with a grin on his face as he took the wand to study it.

“It's as beautiful as ever,” Percival complimented the wandmaker. “And it didn't explode.”

“Quite the improvement from past attempts,” Ollivander chuckled. “I must say, you have quite the eye for wandmaking. Perhaps you should consider it when taking your NEWTs next year.”

“Wand making?” Percival shook his head. “Not for me, no. I've always found the relationship between woods and their cores and the differing behaviors of woods fascinating but more in the sense of the theory of it all. Actually making the wands isn't something I'm particularly interested in. I'm too attached to charms and potions.”

“Very well,” Ollivander. “If you ever change your mind do let me know, won't you? I like to keep an eye on my rivals.”

Percival laughed and handed back the wand. The idea of being a wandmaker wasn't unappealing. It was something he could see himself doing and being content. However there were other things that appealed to him more. Maybe he could return to it if he didn't find anything else to pursue. For now he simply began the trek back to Hogwarts with the thrill of invention on his mind. Maybe that was an idea instead….

The most accurate description of Gareth Weasley I've ever written