Salem, they/he, 20 ◇ Just your average HL sideblog ◇ I'll be posting my writing and obsessing over my own characters ◇ DNI: AI "artists" and "writers"
472 posts
Fun Fact I Have Pretty Much Lost My Sense Of Smell, It Happened When I Was Around Tenish. As Such I Have
Fun fact I have pretty much lost my sense of smell, it happened when I was around tenish. As such I have trouble remembering and describing smells so please drop headcanons of what smells could be associated with Garreth, I'm trying to write an amortentia fic over here
More Posts from Saibugslegacy
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
The Start of Something Great
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….
MCtober Week 1 - Odysseus Carrow
Word Count: 823 Character(s): Odysseus Carrow, Ominis Gaunt Setting: 5th year, Sorting Ceremony Genre/Tags: Angst, family issues, telepathic link
"Ominis you're going to break your plate," Sebastian sighed and the plate was moved from his grasp.
"I'm worried," Ominis said, switching to tapping the tines of his fork.
"As you've mentioned."
"Are you sure he isn't here?"
"If he was he would've been sorted already, there's only two people left."
Odysseus where are you? Ominis thought. With anyone else he wouldn't expect a reply to his thought, but with Odysseus the absence of a reply was daunting.
"Black is going to the podium," Sebastian sighed. "I'm sorry, Ominis, I'm sure your friend is- hang on, where's he going? He's leaving."
"What? Why?" Ominis questioned.
"I can't tell, he just stepped out the doors."
Ody, is that you? Ominis thought again, this time with a feeling of desperation he didn't take the time to hide.
It's okay Omi, it's me.
Ominis' shoulder sagged in relief as he felt the familiar touch in his mind. Odysseus fed him an image of Professor Fig and Professor Black talking in front of the Great Halls along with a feeling of annoyance and Ominis snickered.
"Whats so funny?" Sebastian wondered.
"He's here," Ominis told him just in time to hear the doors of the Great Hall open again and hurried footsteps.
"Professor Weasley, we've one more to be Sorted," Professor Black sighed.
The Hall fell silent as presumably the hat was placed on Odysseus' head. As the minutes passed Ominis once again grew anxious. Odysseus was a Carrow. Ominis knew his betrothed, he knew how he was raised. Surely it shouldn't take this long to put him in Slyther-
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Ominis' fork clattered on the floor but the sound was drowned out by cheers from the Hufflepuff table. Ominis reached out, opening the link between their minds only to recoil and close it again. The pure panic he felt from Odysseus almost completely overtook him.
Odysseus felt like he was drowning. The world around him was muffled and blurred like he was drowning in a tank of water. What was he supposed to do now? He finally got to go to Hogwarts and get the chance to make his family proud and he wasn't in Slytherin. Every single other member of his family was a Slytherin. Not only was he not a Slytherin he was a Hufflepuff.
Odysseus ran his hands through his hair as he paced the Undercroft. He kept tugging on it painfuly, just for any sensation outside of his own stuttered breathing and the ringing in his ears.
ODYSSEUS!
Odysseus gasped as he forced his vision to focus. Ominis was standing in front of him with his hands on Odysseus' arms, trying to tug them away. He felt his way up Odysseus' arms to his hands and pulled them from his hair, letting Ody squeeze his hands instead.
He tried to force himself to breathe and force the emotions away so he could focus. He needed to write to his mother and uncle, he needed to convince Black that the hat was wrong, he had a million things to do to fix it. But he knew none of them would mean anything. No matter what he wrote his family would still be irate and disappointed. No matter what he said to Black he wouldn't be moved to Slytherin.
And something about having Ominis there, he just couldn't hide it anymore. He was trembling now, breathing out of control and his eyes burning. He was a Carrow, he was supposed to be better than this! But in that moment he didn't feel like a Carrow. He just felt like Odysseus. And Odysseus couldn't handle this.
"Omi what am I going to do?" Odysseus said. It came out as half a whisper and half a sob but regardless Ominis pulled him into his arms and the rest of the sobs just came out.
They were the kind of sobs that tore through your chest and perked your body no matter what you did. If not for the soundproof room the whole castle would have been able to hear him. But they couldn't. It was just Ominis.
So he cried. He cried and sobbed and clung to Ominis as the blonde lowered them both to the floor. He didn't say a word, just held him and let him cry as he sent waves of reassurance and love through their bond.
He was still terrified of his family, and falling apart on the floor of the Undercroft in black and yellow robes was the most broken he'd ever felt. But, though he didn't know it at the time, one day he'd have another family that would be the first to tell him they were proud of him. He'd have Ominis and new friends by his side through thick and thing. And those yellow and black robes would be the thing he was most proud of.
He'd put himself back together. But for now, he had to break first.
October 1st, 1874.
Happy birthday to my terrible little daughter 🐺
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….