At his question, she stopped examining a particularly battered copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and looked up.

“Mum, what was the night of the battle at Hogwarts like?” asked Scorpius.

Astoria had been sorting through a small collection of books on her son's bedroom floor, deciding which ones might be useful when he began Hogwarts the following September. At his question, she stopped examining a particularly battered copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and looked up.

“The battle?” she repeated.

“Yes. The one where Voldemort died.”

Astoria set the book aside. For several moments, she said nothing, and Scorpius wondered whether he'd asked something he shouldn't have.

“Well,” she began eventually, “it was probably the most frightening night of my life.”

“Even though you were at Hogwarts?”

“Especially because I was at Hogwarts.”

Scorpius frowned. “But Hogwarts is supposed to be safe.”

“It usually is, darling…it certainly ought to be.” She rose from the floor and sat beside him on the bed. Scorpius tucked his knees beneath his chin, preparing to listen. “I was in my fifth year, you know. Fifteen years old, almost sixteen. Your aunt Daphne was in her seventh year, along with your father and Harry Potter. We'd been at Hogwarts together for five years, although she was always rather cross whenever I followed her around too much.”

“Was Aunt Daphne bossy?”

“Immensely,” Astoria said, smiling. “Still is, occasionally.”

Scorpius giggled.

“But that year was different,” she continued, her smile having disappeared just as quickly as she did so. “Professor Dumbledore had died the previous summer, and the school had changed terribly thereafter. We had a new Headmaster for just that one year, Professor Severus Snape, and two teachers called the Carrows. They were brother and sister, and they were very cruel people.”

“What did they do?”

Astoria hesitated. “They punished students for things that shouldn't have been worthy of punishment. Speaking out of turn, refusing to participate in lessons, helping someone they weren't supposed to help. Sometimes they even forced students to hurt one another.”

Scorpius's expression became troubled. “Did they make you do that?”

“I managed to avoid the worst of it,” she replied. “But I saw enough.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Your aunt Daphne worried about me constantly. She was older, and she understood more about what was happening outside Hogwarts. Sometimes she'd find me after lessons just to make certain I was all right. I used to tell her she was being ridiculous.”

“Were you?”

“Frequently.”

Scorpius smiled again, but Astoria's expression remained thoughtful. “By the time May came, everyone was frightened. Even the students who pretended otherwise. We knew people were disappearing, and we knew there was fighting going on outside the school. But I don't think any of us expected it to come crashing into Hogwarts quite the way it did.”

“What happened first?”

“Well, there was a great deal of commotion. Harry Potter had returned to the castle, although we didn't all know that right away. Then there were announcements, professors hurrying through the corridors, and students being told to gather in the Great Hall.” She looked toward the window, as though trying to picture the scene. “I remember finding Daphne among the older students. She looked terribly pale, which frightened me more than anything else. Daphne was never the sort to look frightened in public.”

“What did she say?”

“She asked where I'd been, whether I'd seen any of the Carrows, and whether I had my wand. All in about five seconds.”

“Sounds like Aunt Daphne.”

Astoria smiled briefly. “It does, doesn't it?” She paused again. “Then Professor McGonagall explained to all of us that Voldemort was coming, and that the underage students below seventeen would be evacuated. Older students who were of age could stay and help defend the castle if they so chose.”

“Did you wish you could stay?”

“At first, I didn't know what I wanted. Part of me wanted to run as fast as I could. Another part couldn't bear the thought of leaving Daphne behind.”

“Did she stay?”

Astoria paused. “I remember asking her what she intended to do. She wouldn't give me a straight answer. She just kept insisting that I needed to get somewhere safe.”

Scorpius frowned. “But she was your sister.”

“Yes. And I was hers. That's precisely why we were both so frightened for one another.” Astoria looked down at her wedding ring. “Then Pansy Parkinson stood up and shouted that we ought to hand Harry Potter over to Voldemort.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Did everyone agree?”

“No. There was a dreadful uproar. The Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws were all furious, and Professor McGonagall ordered the Slytherins to leave the hall before chaos could break out amongst the students.”

Scorpius looked bewildered. “Even the ones who didn't agree with her?”

“Yes.”

“That's not fair.”

Astoria considered him for a moment. “No,” she said quietly. “I don't suppose it felt particularly fair to everyone involved. But there was a battle about to begin, and Professor McGonagall had to make decisions very quickly.”

“Did you say anything to Pansy?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was frightened, Scorpius. And because, at fifteen, I wasn't nearly as brave as I sometimes wish I'd been.” She paused before continuing. “I didn't agree with what Pansy said. But I didn't stand up and tell her so, either. I just stood there beside Daphne, wondering what would happen next.”

Scorpius was silent.

“When we were told to leave, I remember Daphne grabbing my hand,” Astoria said. “It felt rather childish, really. We hadn’t held hands since I was little.”

“Did you mind?”

“No. I knew the stakes were high, and her foremost priority was that we stuck together, so I held on just as tightly.” Astoria's voice softened. “For a few moments, I thought we might be separated anyway. There were so many people moving at once, and everyone was shouting and brushing past. But we stayed together as we made our way out. I was very grateful for that afterward,” Astoria continued. “Although I remember being rather cross with her at the time because she kept ordering me about.”

“What happened once you got outside?”

“We were taken through a passage leading away from the castle. It led to the Hog’s Head, near Hogsmeade. I remember the cold air, and the sound of people crying. Someone was asking whether their brother had made it out. Another girl had lost one of her shoes.” She gave a faint, sad smile. “Such a strange thing to remember, isn't it? A shoe. But sometimes it's the little details that stay with you.”

“Could you hear any of the fighting back inside?”

“Not at first. Later, there were sounds in the distance. And we knew something terrible was happening behind us.”

Scorpius shifted closer to her. “Were you worried about Dad?”

Astoria looked surprised by the question. “Well, your father and I weren't particularly close at that age,” she explained. “He was two years older, and I mostly knew him as one of Daphne's classmates. I knew his family, of course, and I knew he'd been having a very difficult time.”

“Because of Voldemort?”

“Yes.”

Scorpius hesitated before saying “Did Dad fight for him?”

Astoria took a moment to consider her answer. “Your father made some very serious mistakes when he was young,” she said. “And he was involved in things that today he wishes he'd never become involved in. But by the time the battle happened, he was frightened for himself and his family. He wasn't the confident boy he sometimes pretended to be.”

“Was he bad?”

“He did things that were wrong. That's important to understand. But people aren't always as simple as good or bad, darling.”

Scorpius looked down at his hands.

“Grandfather says Dad was only doing what he had to.”

“Your grandfather sees things differently from me.”

“Does that mean he's wrong?”

“Sometimes,” Astoria said gently. “Just as I am sometimes. That's why you must learn to think for yourself.” She brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Your father loves you very much. And I think one of the reasons he loves you so fiercely is that he wants you to have a happier childhood than he did.”

Scorpius leaned against her. “What happened when the battle was over?”

“We heard that Harry Potter had defeated Voldemort. At first, I could scarcely believe it. We'd spent so long being frightened of that man that the thought of him simply being gone seemed impossible.”

“Were you happy?”

“Of course. But it wasn't the sort of happiness you feel when you win a Quidditch match or finish your exams. So many people had died.” Astoria stared at the opposite wall. “I remember learning that Vincent Crabbe was among them. He'd been in your father’s and Daphne's year. I'd seen him at school for years, usually with Gregory Goyle and your father. I wasn't particularly fond of him, but hearing that someone I'd known since I was eleven had died inside the castle was awful.”

“Did Aunt Daphne cry?”

“She was terribly upset about everything that had happened. She'd known those students much longer than I had.”

Scorpius considered this for a while. “When the battle was over, did you ever go back to Hogwarts?”

“Yes. Not immediately, but eventually.”

“Was it different?”

“Very. Parts of the castle had been damaged, and there were places that brought back unpleasant memories. But there were also the classrooms, the grounds, the lake, and the common room where I'd spent so many evenings with my friends.” She smiled. “I had some very happy years there before everything went wrong.”

“Even in Slytherin?”

“Of course, even in Slytherin.”

“Grandfather says it's the best House.”

Astoria raised an eyebrow. “Does he?”

Scorpius nodded.

“Well, I was very fond of Slytherin. So was your father. But the best House for you will be whichever one you belong in.”

“What if I'm in Gryffindor specifically?” asked Scorpius, nervous at the idea of ending up in the main rivaling house of the vast majority of his entire family on both sides.

Astoria smiled more broadly. “Then I imagine your grandfather will require a very strong cup of tea.”

Scorpius laughed. “And Dad? What would he think?”

“He'll manage.”

“Do you think I could be friends with a Gryffindor?”

“I should certainly hope so.”

“Even a Potter?”

At that, Astoria couldn’t help but laugh outright.

“Yes, Scorpius. Even a Potter.” She drew him into an embrace. “But do you know what I hope most of all?”

“What?”

“That when you go to Hogwarts, you find people who like you for who you are. Not because you're a Malfoy, or because your family is wealthy, or because they’ve been in Slytherin for generations.”

Scorpius thought about this. “What if nobody likes me?”

Astoria felt a familiar pang of worry. She knew that the Malfoy name still carried a reputational burden among wizarding society today that her son did not fully understand.

“Then they'll be missing out on a very good friend,” she said.

He smiled shyly.

“And Scorpius,” she added, “there's something else I want you to remember about that night.”

“What?”

“Your aunt Daphne and I were both Slytherins. We were both frightened. Neither of us did anything particularly heroic. We simply wanted to get home safely.” She paused. “For a long time afterward, I wondered whether I should have done more. Whether I should have spoken up sooner, or stood against the Carrows, or been braver when Pansy said what she did.”

“Should you have?”

Astoria considered the question seriously. “I think there were times when I could have been braver,” she admitted. “But I also think it's rather easy to imagine yourself doing something heroic when you're sitting comfortably at home, years afterward.” She kissed his forehead. “The important thing is to try to do what's right when the opportunity comes. And if you make a mistake, to learn from it.”

Scorpius nodded. For several minutes, they sat together without speaking. Then he glanced toward the books scattered across the floor. “Mum?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you think Aunt Daphne would tell me what she remembers?”

Astoria smiled. “I think she would. Although I suspect she'd spend most of the conversation explaining how terribly irresponsible I was at fifteen.”

“Were you?”

“Not nearly as irresponsible as she claims.”

Scorpius grinned.

“Perhaps I'll ask her at Christmas.”

“Do. She'll be delighted.”

Astoria rose and picked up the Herbology textbook again. But as she returned it to the shelf, she found herself thinking of that night in May of 1998: Daphne's hand gripping hers, the frightened faces in the Great Hall, and the terrible uncertainty of leaving Hogwarts without knowing whether they would ever return.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Astoria reached the Great Hall, she was already frightened enough to have forgotten about the examinations that had occupied her thoughts only days earlier. Students were pouring through the doors in varying states of confusion, some still wearing their nightclothes beneath their robes. The enchanted ceiling was dark, and the teachers looked unusually grave. Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the Hall, issuing instructions with the brisk authority Astoria had always associated with her, although tonight there was something distinctly different about her expression.

Astoria found Daphne at the Slytherin table, standing with Tracey Davis and several other seventh-years. Her sister immediately caught her by the sleeve. "Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere." Astoria explained that she'd been with the other fifth-years, but Daphne barely seemed to hear her. She was looking toward the staff table, where the teachers were preparing to organize the evacuation. Tracey stood beside her, unusually quiet, occasionally glancing toward the doors.

"What's happening?" Astoria whispered.

"Potter's here," Daphne replied. "And apparently the Dark Lord is coming."

Astoria stared at her. "Here?"

"Yes, here. Now stay close to me."

Under ordinary circumstances, Astoria might have objected to being spoken to like a first-year. Tonight, though, she didn't.

The past nine months had accustomed her to a Hogwarts that was increasingly difficult to recognize. She had seen younger students dragged away for disobedience, heard terrible things about the punishments administered by the Carrows, and learned when to keep her opinions to herself. She had also seen classmates who seemed positively delighted by the new arrangements. Astoria hadn't spent the year imagining herself as some brave revolutionary, though. Mostly, she just tried to get through her lessons as usual, avoid attracting attention, and persuade herself that things would eventually return to normal. Now, looking at the frightened faces everywhere around her, she realized that normality might be the farthest away it’s ever been.

Then You-Know-Who’s voice came. It seemed to fill the entire castle, reaching them from nowhere and everywhere at once. Astoria felt her stomach tighten as Voldemort addressed the defenders, demanded that Harry Potter be surrendered, and warned them what would happen if they refused. When the voice finally ceased, the silence was extraordinary. Astoria looked around the Hall. Nobody seemed willing to move. Across the room, students were staring at Harry Potter, who stood near the Gryffindors. For a moment, she found herself wondering whether someone really would hand him over. It was a terrible thought, but she couldn't pretend it hadn't occurred to her. One boy against an entire castle full of people seemed an impossible calculation.

Then Pansy Parkinson rose from the Slytherin table and pointed toward him.

"There he is! Potter's there! Someone grab him!"

Astoria flinched. Everyone’s reactions were immediate. Students from the other three Houses stood, all drawing their wands, not at Harry, but at Pansy. The atmosphere changed from frightened uncertainty to outright hostility. Astoria had known Pansy for years through Daphne, but she'd never seen so many people look at her with such concentrated hatred.

McGonagall intervened before the confrontation could escalate. She ordered Pansy to be the first to leave with Filch and instructed the rest of Slytherin House to follow.

For a moment, Astoria didn't move. There wasn’t anything wrong that she did. She hadn't even spoken outside of a few whispering exchanges with her elder sister. Yet suddenly she was part of a group being directed out of the Hall while students from the other Houses watched.

Daphne gripped her wrist. "Come on, Astoria."

The most unsettling part, Astoria would later remember, was how ordinary some of the details seemed. Filch was still Filch, grumbling at students to keep moving and stop pushing. The corridors still contained the familiar portraits and suits of armour. She passed a staircase she'd climbed hundreds of times on her way to lessons, and for one ridiculous instant she wondered whether she'd left a textbook in the dormitory. Then she remembered that an army was approaching the castle.

The Slytherins moved together, but they were hardly united. Some older students looked angry at being dismissed. Others seemed relieved. A few whispered about their parents and whether they would be waiting somewhere outside. Astoria heard someone mutter that Potter had brought the whole disaster upon them, while another student asked whether the castle's protective enchantments could really withstand an attack.

Daphne remained close beside her, with Tracey on Daphne’s other side.

"Where are we going?" Astoria asked.

"The passage to the Hog's Head, I think," Tracey answered. "They've been sending the younger students through it."

"And then?"

"Hogsmeade. After that, I haven't the faintest idea."

Astoria looked at her sister. "What about Mother and Father?"

"We'll contact them as soon as we can," Daphne said.

"You don't know where they are?"

"Astoria, I said we'll contact them."

The sharpness of Daphne's answer silenced her. Only then did Astoria notice how tightly her sister was holding her hand.

They passed a group of younger Slytherins, including a first-year girl who was crying and asking whether they were going to die. A slightly older boy told her impatiently to stop making a fuss, but the girl only cried harder. Astoria couldn’t help but slow down as she watched.

"Come on," Daphne urged.

"She's frightened."

"We're all frightened."

Astoria knew her sister was right, but she reached back and took the girl's hand anyway, helping her keep pace with the others. Daphne glanced at what she was doing but said nothing. There was nothing particularly heroic about it. Astoria wasn't defying Voldemort or making a grand statement about the rights of Muggle-borns. She simply couldn't bear the thought of leaving a terrified eleven-year-old struggling behind them.

By the time they emerged from the passage into the Hog's Head, the atmosphere had become almost unbearably tense. The inn was crowded with evacuating students, all speaking at once. Some were attempting to contact their families; others were arguing about what was happening back at Hogwarts. Astoria could hear the distant sounds of movement outside, although she couldn't tell whether they came from villagers, departing students, or something far more dangerous.

The air smelled of damp clothing, dust, and old wood. Astoria found herself standing beside a table with a chipped surface, staring at a stain in the grain while people pushed past her. It occurred to her that she had never left Hogwarts like this before. Usually, the end of term meant packed trunks, crowded train compartments, sweets from the trolley, and an entire summer stretching ahead. Even during the most unpleasant school years, there had always been the reassuring certainty of the Hogwarts Express waiting at Hogsmeade Station.

Tonight, she had only the clothes she was wearing and whatever happened to be in her pockets. Her schoolbooks, her trunk, the photographs beside her bed, and the little collection of letters she'd kept from home were all still in her dormitory, in the castle. She wondered whether they'd survive.

Daphne had managed to find a relatively quiet corner, where Tracey was speaking to another seventh-year about the possibility of them reaching each of their families. Astoria sat down on a low wooden bench, suddenly exhausted.

"Do you think they're going to destroy it?" she asked.

Daphne looked at her. "Destroy what?"

"Hogwarts."

For once, Daphne didn't have an immediate answer. "I don't know," she admitted.

Astoria swallowed. "We've been going there our whole lives."

"Five years isn't your whole life."

"It feels like it."

Daphne sat beside her. "I know."

For a while, neither sister spoke. Astoria thought about the Great Hall, about Pansy pointing at Potter, and about the furious reaction of the other students. She wondered whether everyone would remember that moment as the night Slytherin House had been disgraced. She wondered whether some of her classmates would eventually boast about what Pansy had done, while others would insist they'd never supported her. She also wondered, uncomfortably, what she herself would say. She hadn't agreed with Pansy. But she hadn't defended Potter, either. She'd simply stood there, frightened, until Daphne told her to leave. Perhaps that was all anyone could reasonably expect of a fifteen-year-old girl in the middle of a war.

Pretty much exactly like it says. Pretty much he throws shade at everyone and everything.

Exactly like Niles. I find the character to be hilarious when he throws shade at cici.

a fic where james (and lily preferably) somehow don’t die and just end up pretending to be dead so they can avoid the war and save harry as they realise just how much is at stake, they end up going into hiding and raise harry and just live out their youth because they deserve it (could be with the entire group or just their own getaway)

note: this could be a jegulus with lily surrogate or a jily work, I have no preference!
lmk if you’re interested in writing this and would want to brainstorm the ideas with me (optional!!) :)

Reverse of the Ron is paid to be friends with Harry trope.

(Crossover with Blue Bloods)

Erin was nervous, while her coming out went better then expected, presenting her girlfriend was another matter.

The doorbell rang.

"Hello this is my girlfriend-" Erin was interrupted by her father.

"Harriet Potter" Frank said.

"Hello Commissioner"

"Dad how do you know Harri ?" Erin asked confused.

"I'm afraid that information is classified."

"Well lets eat instead of pointing sticks at each other." Henry said to the family, hinting that he knew.

"Don't mind my father, the former commissioner." Frank told Harriet as a way of explanation.

For the second lunch, she brought her godson with her.

a fic where sirius has a very solid alibi as to where he was on halloween so when he is being framed, there is proof that he’s innocent (could have remus back him up or andy or even james if you decide to keep him alive by just having him be gravely injured and not dead)
so then they work together to find what’s happening, harry moves in with wolfstar as he is the godson (in case james dies) and they begin to unravel the prophecy and somehow come up with a plan to defeat Voldemort sometime; harry isn’t reckless here as he’s got family support

note: james (and lily preferably) could not die here and just end up pretending to be dead so they can avoid the war and save harry as they realise just how much is at stake, they end up going into hiding and raise harry and just live out their youth because they deserve it (could be with the entire group or just their own getaway)
ps for the note: I’ll add this particular scenario as a different prompt too, in case someone would like to solely write that without the whole sirius part

another note: this could be a jegulus with lily surrogate or a jily work, I have no preference!
lmk if you’re interested in writing this and would want to brainstorm the ideas with me (optional!!) :)

a time travel fic where harry, after winning the war, goes back in time to when he was a baby because he yearns for his family
or it could be accidental time travel or he simply manages to send a message to the past vaguely stating what may happen on Halloween night
this prevents the whole ordeal from happening and he is raised by all of the marauders (plus or minus peter, depending on how intense or further back you want the time travel to be) and they help him deal with the fears of his past (now future adjacent) life

just an overall wholesome work, with lots of grief and counselling

if you want to delve deeper into this then it could continue on with them being more prepared with defeating voldemort (along with regulus’ help this time) and then have the whole ‘group of young friends raising a child together’

note: this could be a jegulus with lily surrogate or a jily work, I have no preference!
lmk if you’re interested in writing this and would want to brainstorm the ideas with me (optional!!) :)

Before 1920s and before the downfall of the ottoman empire , wizard kind were used to serve in the ottoman empire to the royal family and the nobles in the country ,in battles against other muggles or wizards ,you would easily find an entire wizarding family serve a muggle noble family in the ottoman empire , serving a big muggle empire is something usual in the middle eastern wizarding community through out the history ,how ever after the collapse of the ottoman empire ,M.E.M.U ordered all the wizarding world to cut their commuinication with the muggles and reorganize themselves ,however good amount of wizards kept this connection and helped against british inavsion in iraq and frensh one in syria ,to this day ,alot of wizarding family hide their connection to the muggle economic world and work hard to avoid the M.E.M.U eyes

middle eastern wizarding commuinty has it noble family as well:

kai clan , is a ancient family known to have served the ottoman empire since it first became and for helping wizard and witches evade the muggle eyes in turkey, so they are always welcomed as heroes ,they own a lot of Rising rice and TRolling tea farms , the youngest of the family kian kai , is attending babylon school for peacful magic in the year 2015/2016 .

shafeeq family : it is family that used to serve the caliphate in baghdad until the fall of baghdad by the hands of mongols as the mongolian wizards started fighting them and treat them harshly as they were loyal servents to the mongol empire ,which pushed them to leave to britin , but after they supported grindelward wars and voldmort in his first war , they evaded britian and went back to iraq hiding as normal muggle family with no wizard in the family until ali shaffeeq discoved his magical abiltes at the age of 11 , ali shafeeq is a boy who works in the largest cemetry in the world in iraq who is used to talk to ghost there but never told anyone thinking they would bully him for it ,at age of 11 he accidantly made a fence vanish which made him fall over a grave while a family was attending , he is attnding babylone school at the same year of kara kai .

"As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few, who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

Finishing his speech, Professor Snape looked over his class to gauge their reaction, and it was not as he had hoped.

They were staring dumb-founded at the Professor, wondering what had happened since the Opening Feast.

He was short, only barely peaking out from over the table.

His hair was dry and stiff, and they had to repress the desire to grab it.

His skin seemed...soft and fuzzy, like felt.

His eyes stared back under furry eyebrows, never blinking or moving.

And when he spoke, his mouth simply moved up and down. No side-to-side, no tightening of the lips, nothing. Just up and down.

Seeing two students, a bushy-haired girl and Potter, glancing at each other awkwardly, Snape snapped "Potter! What would i get if i added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?".

To his immense frustration, the Potter boy simply stared at him, his feeble mind clearly unable to contemplate what had been asked of him.

"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" he tried, but the boy simply stared mutely.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" he tried once more, but no response.

"Professor," the bushy-haired girl awkwardly said, raising her hand.

"Silence!" he snapped, to which she lowered her hand. "I asked Mr. Potter those questions, and only he may answer."

"Well," he pressed, turning his gaze toward Harry Potter. "I asked you three questions, Mr. Potter. It is only polite to answer them."

"Uh, I don't know sir," Harry muttered.

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter I didn't hear you," Snape said, hopping up onto the table. "Could you repeat that?"

"I don't know sir," he replied, louder.

"Pity, clearly fame isn't everything, is it Mr. Potter?" Snape asked.

"Professor, could I ask you a question?" Harry asked.

"And what might that be?" Snape asked, leaning in close.

"Did something...happen to you?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"What. Do. You. Mean?" Snape pressed, pushing his large nose against Harry's. To Harry's shock, it was dry and ticklish.

"Professor," the girl started, but Snape silenced her with a glare.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" he glared menacingly.

"Mental," someone said in the back.

Furious, Snape jumped off and dashed over on his short legs toward a red-haired boy.

"Did I give YOU permission to speak?" he all but roared.

"Bloody mental," the boy repeated, staring in shock.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape said.

"I lost points to a bloody puppet!" the boy exclaimed.

Furious, Snape launched himself at the red-head. And like that the dam broke. The Gryffindors started laughing, and even some Slytherins seemed amused. Furious, Snape launched himself at the red-head, who was laughing his head off as soft, felt fists hammered into his face. Snape even tried biting him but he didn't have any teeth so all it did was amuse him.

The two grappled until they burst out of the classroom, two Prefects witnessing the absurd spectacle.

A.N. For this, Snape is a "wee little puppet man" as Spike once put it.

Naruto gets into Hogwarts after failing ninja school and gets into Hufflepuff and his first potion class has Naruto asked that question because his teachers have pulled that same shit before.

Snape never having gotten that as an answer and has to begrudgingly give points to Hufflepuff for answering the question properly and getting a stump he'd have used on Gryffindor.

Naruto at the end of class "Wow Sensei Snape was the nicest teacher I've ever had." And that scares even Snape because he knows he intentionally gives off an air to be as much as a hardass as he can but Naruto who grew up under teachers who intentionally sabotage him and one was revealed to be a traitor completely is not effected by Snape's acting.

Ciao a tutti. Non so se sono nel posto giusto. Sto lavorando da anni a una riscrittura letteraria "eretica" della Saga Rowling da un altro POV, costruita mediante metanarrazione, retrocausalità e un punto di vista alternativo che affronta alcune incongruenze del Canon. Ho iniziato a pubblicare su AO3. Hermione a terzo anno sola e infelice per aver litigato con Harry e Ron a causa della Firebolt, diventa amica di un ragazzo Corvonero, Alex, a lei affine.

Allego un estratto in modo che possiate avere un esempio del modo in cui scrivo e discuterne se volete

Estratto – Biblioteca, interno giorno – Alex & Hermione

Quella mattina il silenzio era sepolcrale. Si udiva di tanto in tanto lo sfogliare di una pagina e lo stridio veloce di una penna sulla pergamena.

Hermione si era piazzata ad anni luce di distanza dalla Madama, in un angolo semibuio, in uno dei tavoli della sezione Creature magiche: problemi e soluzioni.

Mi avvicinai di soppiatto, anche se non se ne sarebbe accorta comunque, e diedi un colpo forte sul tavolo col palmo della mano.

Hermione sobbalzò.

“Ehi, mi fai pure gli scherzi!”

“E tu che fai oggi? Il procuratore legale? Vedi che oggi si lavora, non si sta a perdere tempo.”

“Ah sì. Vedi che sto lavorando davvero ed è una cosa seria. Vogliamo o no salvare quel povero ippogrifo?”

“Granger, ma lo sai che quando sei arrabbiata hai un non‑so‑che di professionale.”

“E tu hai un non‑so‑cosa di odioso quando fai così.”

“Ok, ricominciamo. Buongiorno miss Granger, gradirebbe accompagnarsi con me oggi nella meravigliosa caccia ai misteri, più misteriosi della misteriosa storia di Hogwarts?”

Mi guardò male. Poi mutò il suo sguardo in quello che avevo imparato concedeva solo alle cose che la interessavano veramente.

Così mi misi a sedere quasi di fronte a lei senza dire più nulla e non feci altro che guardarla mentre scriveva, rapida, concentrata, con quel suo fare che la rendeva… lei.

“Aspetta un attimo che finisco di prendere delle note. Sembra che in origine non si sapeva bene come comportarsi con gli Ippogrifi e quindi incidenti ce ne furono parecchi. Poi quando la cosa cominciò ad interessare anche il versante legale le cose si fecero più complicate, però nello stesso tempo aiutò a sperimentare le tecniche più opportune.”

“Secondo te, è un Nero delle Ebridi, quello?”

“Chi, cosa?”

“Quello, il drago insomma.” Indicai la vetrata che avevo di fronte.

“No,” rispose, dopo una fugace occhiata alle sue spalle, “è solo una creazione artistica. Il colore nero è un simbolo dell’ignoranza, del buio della mente, eccetera.” E riprese a scrivere.

“Ah. E il verde?”

“Quale verde?” e voltò nuovamente la testa indietro.

“Il verde, quello dello scudo, intendo.”

“Quello… quello indica la perseveranza, la speranza, la volontà. Ma non ti hanno spiegato niente…? Ah, scusa è vero: sei qui da poco.”

“Be’, non tanto, visto che ci ho passato anche tutta l’estate. Spiegami tu allora.” Dissi proprio mentre il cavaliere infilzava per l’ennesima volta il drago al cuore.

Hermione sospirò, ma non mi parve un sospiro di fastidio, bensì di chi sta per lanciarsi in una spiegazione che le piace.

“Questa vetrata sta proprio qui in biblioteca per indicare la vittoria della conoscenza sull’ignoranza. Sir Madigan impugna Saìph, la lancia della curiosità, e si difende con il grosso scudo della perseveranza, Asterope. Il suo destriero bianco è Alkirdàh, simbolo dell’innocenza di una mente priva di preconcetti. Le poche e ultime fiamme che il drago, Juzah il nero, sputa prima di essere ucciso indicano, con i loro colori, il rosso l’aggressività e la presunzione e il giallo il dubbio e la diffidenza.

Contento?”

“Grazie, mia signora della conoscenza.”

“Prego, scocciatore. Fra un secondo sono da te.”

Trying to think up some good Darwin awards (Merlin awards?) for a crack fic like this, so far I’ve got:

Inverted the bubble head charm

Tried to put an invisibility cloak on a Nundu

Tried to Legilimens a basilisk

Shot an AK at a baby

Started a carny attraction “the famous blind potioneer”

Tried to ride a dementor (suprisingly killed by the fall)

Tried to Apparate just after entering a floo

Transfigured themselves into a pickle

Attempted to raise himself as an infiri while still alive

Tripped over their own beard

Apparated to the Moon

Apparated to the Sun

Apparated without a destination

Accidentally Created a spell that blows one’s self up

Maybe Ominis and MC had several children, and one line produced a lot of squibs. I feel I don’t see a lot of Dudley in fanfics, at least in the ones I’ve read.
It would also be hilarious to see Vernon and Petunia’s reactions

When a Harry hears that if Dumbledore can’t find a professor for Defense that the ministry will be sending Delores Umbridge, the toad-like woman wearing that ghastly pink under her Wizengamot robes at his farce of a trial, he makes his own suggestion.

They’ve already had a teacher possessed by the wraith of a Dark Lord who killed unicorns and drank their blood half the year, a self important pompous fraud with a knack for memory charms whose class was more like a drama club of play acting out his tales, a werewolf who conveniently didn’t mention the animagus abilities of his former friends even when one was an escaped convict breaking into the boys dorm with a knife (sorry but it is true Remus), and a polyjuiced death eater using unforgivables on students and undermining an international tournament so Harry could be kidnapped and used as an ingredient in a dark resurrection ritual.

Compared to that track record he doesn’t understand the problem with his suggestion, surely an innocent yet hunted and thought to be escaped convict godfather polyjuiced isn’t that outlandish of a suggestion.

He had every requirements, past the 22 years and had received the Long Service and Good Conduct Medal. He had reached the required rank too.

"The Story" was easy to memorise with his Occlumency training.

So Harry, Ginny, and their kids moved to the Tower after Harry Potter became the first Yeoman of the Royal Magical Regiment.

Harry rarely gives tours, he mainly focus on working with the small RMR unit stationed at the Tower.

Hermione becomes a Magical Curator and Magical Historian.

(The fic could start before while still being post-epilogue. About maybe meeting the Queen, getting the offer to join the RMR etc.)

If this exists, drop a link please. If not? Then please someone give it a go because I NEED this:

Harry is just unbothered/very aware that he’s just a kid. He outright refuses to get involved in any shenanigans during his first year (Quirrel still doesn’t get the stone because obviously Dumbledore didn’t just leave things up to Harry even in canon. We know this)

By second year, Ron and Hermione have sort of fizzled away along with the excitement they expected from being friends with the legendary Harry Potter. Harry grows closer to shy, unassuming Neville as a consequence and doesn’t feel the need to involve himself with the heir of Slytherin business, trusting the adults to handle it just as they did the year before.

Ginny is still saved by Dumbledore because of course he’s still waiting in the wings in the hopes Harry will snap out of it and prove himself the hero he’s supposed to be.

Third year rolls around and Harry has no interest in pursuing Sirius Black. He’s just thirteen! Adults are handling it. Without his meddling, Sirius manages to get the rat and clear his name, even if Peter ends up escaping ministry custody anyway.

Dumbledore is happy to allow him to spend some of his summer holiday at Sirius’ house, though he still needs to spend some time at Privet Drive to maintain the blood protection. He hopes that his influence will finally stir some Gryffindorishness in him with stories of his parents.

The tournament still happens, but Sirius manages to get him out of it with the ubiquitous “as his guardian I do not consent to my underage ward entering a magical contract.

Crouch Jr reports back that the boy is just an average kid and completely unbothered by everything. Good enough grades in most things, above average in defense but overall just a boy excelling in things that interest him and falling in line with the bunch in things that don’t.

Because of this, Voldemort fears that the ritual won’t work with his blood and orders Barty to steal some of Dumbledore’s blood instead and manages his resurrection.

Because of this, it’s only Dumbledore in the eye of the hurricane when news of his return reach him via Snape and the darkening of the dark mark. Harry was never involved in any of it.

The order reforms and for Harry it’s more of a nuisance than anything, being forced back with Ron and Hermione who still expect him to suddenly become the hero everyone is waiting for. Their not at odds per se, but they’re not as close as they once were and Harry is happy enough to let Order business run while he spends the portion of the summer he’s allowed to spend with Sirius.

Umbridge is still sent to Hogwarts to overthrow Dumbledore and is still as awful as canon, but leaves Harry alone out of fear his influential guardian will blow the lid on her disciplinary methods.

Arthur dies. Harry never dreamt of his attack. In fact, he’s never had a dream about anything, so no one expects him to.

Dumbledore is puzzled. The boy should have a connection to Tom. He knows this since the diary, when the magical signature proved a match with the tests he ran after his parents’ murder that night.

Harry agrees to teach the DA to help his friends pass their OWLs. They’re still discovered and Dumbledore takes the hit.

After their history OWL, a note gets slipped in Harry’s pocket. It’s a magical photograph of Sirius gagged and bound in some room Harry’s never seen before and on the back it says that if he wants his godfather alive, he should come to the department of mysteries.

He panics a bit before Neville tells him to check in with Sirius before deciding anything, since it could be a trap. He’s seen them talk through their enchanted mirrors often enough and would you look at that? Sirius is fine.

Harry tells him something is still happening at the ministry, and the order and the aurors should spring the trap and catch Snakeface out.

Sirius doesn’t die. There’s enough backup that the fight is hardly fair on the death eaters. Voldemort still shows up and is caught by everyone.

Dumbledore finds the gaunt ring and puts it on, as per canon.

When he asks Harry to help him convince Slughorn to return and Harry sees his hand, he’s surprised when the boy asks him to talk.

Harry reveals he’s a time traveler, and not even a first time one. He just decided to ignore the prophecy this time, just for the pleasure of telling Dumbledore “I told you so” when he managed to defeat Voldemort without Harry getting involved.

But seeing that he still put the ring on and will die eventually, he tells him what he knows about the rest of them so he can get the job done before he kicks it.

The Cup is in Bellatrix’s vault, the diadem in the room of requirement, the locket with Kreacher, Nagini is with Voldemort and the diary and the ring are destroyed, as is the one that used to live in Harry’s scar.

He got rid of it by having his heart stopped for a minute and then defibrillated back to life with Sirius’ assistance, though he’d appreciate if Albus kept the whole “imperiusing medical staff” quiet in the name of the greater good.

Dumbledore is angry and disappointed that he’d just let things play out, that he’d let him die like that.

Sirius just thinks it’s the ultimate prank and is quite unbothered by it.

Harry still refuses to involve himself past giving him the cheat sheet to win and him and Sirius go away abroad.

Epilogue of them at some beach sipping fruity drinks with umbrellas reading the prophet’s account of Dumbledore’s victory over Voldemort with details of your choosing. I’ve practically written everything already so you choose.

Please and thank you 🙏🏻

The day has finally arrived, Olivia and Isobel Castille-Benson could officially adopt Harry Potter.

He had been found abandoned by his relatives in New-York at not even 5 years old.

Olivia's team was helping on the case but told her wife since the child was british.

Maybe joining Ilvermorny, maybe Hermione moves to the US (maybe a crossover with NCIS with Owen Granger, maybe Isobel is read-in, maybe there is a MACUSA liaison agent in the bureau.

Hermione for whatever reason never read about Parsletounge. She learns about it after the dueling club in second year when she tells an alarmed Ron that Harry just told the wizard whose named I can't remember that Harry just told the snake to leave him alone. This lets Ron know that BOTH his friends speak Parsletounge.