The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
Please Note: My writing here is going to be a mix of fanfiction for various fandoms, as well as some in-universe things that I can't actually post anywhere else since it's not in-character. Any fanfiction (FF) will have a note at the top with what to expect (fandom, any possible triggers, AUs if it is one, etc) and will be in a reducio. Anything in-universe (IU) (things from any of Pyce's family, Mori or Danny's lives, journals or books from other characters) will not be in a reducio and shouldn't need any warnings, but might have a date or time
Table of Contents
. . .
1 - To Memories You Don't Have (FF)
2 - A Badger and a Snake (IU)
3 - I Call it "Neal Caffrey-ing" (IU)
4 - On One Condition (IU)
5 - I'm Right Here! (FF)
6 - Where the Heart is (IU)
7 - The Harder They Fall (IU) Not Brothers, but Something Close (FF)
8 - What Has Hecate Been Doing? (Keeping Up With 'Cate) (IU)
9 - Chromatica (FF)
10 - A Study on the Habits of Apples (FF)
11 - The Benefits of Being (IU)
12 - Who I Was Before (FF)
. . .
1 - To Memories You Don't Have (FF)
2 - A Badger and a Snake (IU)
3 - I Call it "Neal Caffrey-ing" (IU)
4 - On One Condition (IU)
5 - I'm Right Here! (FF)
6 - Where the Heart is (IU)
7 - The Harder They Fall (IU) Not Brothers, but Something Close (FF)
8 - What Has Hecate Been Doing? (Keeping Up With 'Cate) (IU)
9 - Chromatica (FF)
10 - A Study on the Habits of Apples (FF)
11 - The Benefits of Being (IU)
12 - Who I Was Before (FF)
Last edited by Pyce Rotanski on 26 Nov 2025, 08:06, edited 13 times in total.
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
Reducio
The disassembly drone scuffed his foot against the floor on purpose, faint smile pulling at his lips when the sound was audible. Not many things made O smile anymore. O would have never described himself as cheerful, but before Cyn did... Everything... Life was better, simpler. Less gory. Not that there were any remains left in the manor. O had cleaned most of the mess of the gala up. He didn't like to think about it.
Not that he had a choice, seeing as he was getting an overheating warning across his screen. O sighed and made his way over to his stash of oil. He had collected it some months after the gala, when he could finally look at the [FATAL ERROR] flashing across the screens of his coworkers.
A canister was better than having to deal with getting it directly from the source. O filled up a glass with the inky liquid, cleaning it up before just holding it. Staring. The overheating warning pinged again and O left the canister, cup still in hand.
He had long since gotten used to needing to consume oil to live, but some days it was harder. It was thick, hard to swallow, hardly worth the effort to keep his systems cool. But he had to. O knew this. Because if he just stopped, then it would win. And O could think of nothing worse.
Well, that was a lie. O knew exactly what he thought was worse than that cursed virus, and it had already happened.
Prior to the gala, O thought the worst thing that could possibly happen to him, or to N, would be either one of them sent out to that awful Crow Tree. And, O supposed, that was technically what happened. But that wasn't the worst. No, O had been quite wrong on that.
The worst was what happened after. But it hadn't been the screams that O woke up to that night, nor had it been the new, uncomfortable body he was still residing in. It hadn't even been the oil and red sticking to N's face, or J's or V's. No, the worst thing that had happened that night, was when that thing took N's memories. Every last minute the two of them had shared over their years working in the manor, gone. Just like that. It's not that he didn't mourn the loss of himself in J and V's minds, only that N had always mattered more.
Lost in thought, O made his way to the garden. Nothing in it was alive anymore, there wasn't exactly an atmosphere or comfortable temperatures... Or water. N would be devastated if he saw it. If he remembered it. He probably remembered the manor.
O sat down by the skeleton of a hedge, setting his cup on the ground next to him. It probably wasn't good to spend time outside, even at night, given how his only view in the sky was that of floating chunks of planet, yellow tentacles weaving between.
He closed his eyes, all of them, and sat in silence for a moment. The complete blank from his visual sensors let O think back to another time he had been in this garden, the phantom echo of a life long gone. In a metaphorical sense. O was still alive. N was... He might have left Earth, but he was likely still alive too.
"Aww, c'mon, O! It's a maze!" N beckoned O deeper into the hedges, his eyes in a pleased squint.
"We have work to do," O replied, actions betraying his words, as he followed N deeper into the garden. They weren't even supposed to be outside, their jobs were strictly indoors. But what James and Louisa didn't know wouldn't hurt them, now would it. So O followed N.
Despite the butler having a head start, losing himself as best he could in the greenery, his laughing was easy enough to follow.
Or, it was supposed to be easy. O hit more than a few blocks, each one getting him more annoyed. At the hedges, of course, not the situation.
"N!" He called out. "Where are you?" N did not respond beyond laughing harder. Oh, it was on.
O finally decided to play it smart and picked a wall to place his hand on. He followed it, letting the leaves tickle the admittedly weak sensors in his palm. Walking and walking, listening to N's laughter. And finally, O was rewarded when he saw his lovely N, standing in the middle of a clearing. If O could breathe properly, surely, his breath would have caught.
There wasn't anything special about how N looked in that moment, the light of the newly risen moon glinting off his helmet, a few small leaves stuck in his hair. But O thought he looked like an angel. Ironic. N noticed O and the little janitor would forever cherish the way N's face lit up.
"O! You followed me! I knew you would," N said proudly, walking over and wrapping O into a hug. O returned it, content to sit in N's embrace. When he was finally released, O took N's hand and slowly brought it up to his lips.
"I'll always follow you." O said before pressing a soft kiss to the back of N's hand. N laughed again.
"You can't just say things like that!" He said, blush lighting up his screen. N shifted his hand, and O let him lock their fingers together. "Now, I think it was you who wanted to get back to work?" O rolled his eyes and let N guide him out of the maze.
O turned his screen, and the eyes on it, back on. His halo remained dark, the five eyes upon it still closed. O needed to leave the manor. He needed to find out where it had sent N. But- O was scared. After everything that had happened, everything the Solver proved it could do, he wasn't ready to face it down again. He wasn't sure he could win. And O didn't want to know what he'd lose next if it beat him.
There was another warning about O's temperature before he grabbed his glass of oil. He held it up to the sky that held nothing but apocalypse in a toast, sad smile on his face.
"To the memories you don't have. And to getting them back." And with that, O drank the oil, the liquid whisking away any heat from his systems.
O stood up, empty glass abandoned on the ground, and returned to the manor. He could figure out how to leave another time. The sun was about to rise, and O was not going to be caught in it.
WC: 1,132
It was quiet, as per usual in Elliot Manor. Serial Designation O wandered the lone halls, footsteps never making a sound. He would be annoyed about it, but there wasn't really a point other than working himself up.Fandom: Murder Drones
Word Prompt: Memory
"Tags:" Original Character/Canon, talk of memory loss, spoilers for canon, isolation, angst in general, mentions of death, (this does take place inside Elliot Manor after the events of Ep 5. Really long after, but still)
The disassembly drone scuffed his foot against the floor on purpose, faint smile pulling at his lips when the sound was audible. Not many things made O smile anymore. O would have never described himself as cheerful, but before Cyn did... Everything... Life was better, simpler. Less gory. Not that there were any remains left in the manor. O had cleaned most of the mess of the gala up. He didn't like to think about it.
Not that he had a choice, seeing as he was getting an overheating warning across his screen. O sighed and made his way over to his stash of oil. He had collected it some months after the gala, when he could finally look at the [FATAL ERROR] flashing across the screens of his coworkers.
A canister was better than having to deal with getting it directly from the source. O filled up a glass with the inky liquid, cleaning it up before just holding it. Staring. The overheating warning pinged again and O left the canister, cup still in hand.
He had long since gotten used to needing to consume oil to live, but some days it was harder. It was thick, hard to swallow, hardly worth the effort to keep his systems cool. But he had to. O knew this. Because if he just stopped, then it would win. And O could think of nothing worse.
Well, that was a lie. O knew exactly what he thought was worse than that cursed virus, and it had already happened.
Prior to the gala, O thought the worst thing that could possibly happen to him, or to N, would be either one of them sent out to that awful Crow Tree. And, O supposed, that was technically what happened. But that wasn't the worst. No, O had been quite wrong on that.
The worst was what happened after. But it hadn't been the screams that O woke up to that night, nor had it been the new, uncomfortable body he was still residing in. It hadn't even been the oil and red sticking to N's face, or J's or V's. No, the worst thing that had happened that night, was when that thing took N's memories. Every last minute the two of them had shared over their years working in the manor, gone. Just like that. It's not that he didn't mourn the loss of himself in J and V's minds, only that N had always mattered more.
Lost in thought, O made his way to the garden. Nothing in it was alive anymore, there wasn't exactly an atmosphere or comfortable temperatures... Or water. N would be devastated if he saw it. If he remembered it. He probably remembered the manor.
O sat down by the skeleton of a hedge, setting his cup on the ground next to him. It probably wasn't good to spend time outside, even at night, given how his only view in the sky was that of floating chunks of planet, yellow tentacles weaving between.
He closed his eyes, all of them, and sat in silence for a moment. The complete blank from his visual sensors let O think back to another time he had been in this garden, the phantom echo of a life long gone. In a metaphorical sense. O was still alive. N was... He might have left Earth, but he was likely still alive too.
"Aww, c'mon, O! It's a maze!" N beckoned O deeper into the hedges, his eyes in a pleased squint.
"We have work to do," O replied, actions betraying his words, as he followed N deeper into the garden. They weren't even supposed to be outside, their jobs were strictly indoors. But what James and Louisa didn't know wouldn't hurt them, now would it. So O followed N.
Despite the butler having a head start, losing himself as best he could in the greenery, his laughing was easy enough to follow.
Or, it was supposed to be easy. O hit more than a few blocks, each one getting him more annoyed. At the hedges, of course, not the situation.
"N!" He called out. "Where are you?" N did not respond beyond laughing harder. Oh, it was on.
O finally decided to play it smart and picked a wall to place his hand on. He followed it, letting the leaves tickle the admittedly weak sensors in his palm. Walking and walking, listening to N's laughter. And finally, O was rewarded when he saw his lovely N, standing in the middle of a clearing. If O could breathe properly, surely, his breath would have caught.
There wasn't anything special about how N looked in that moment, the light of the newly risen moon glinting off his helmet, a few small leaves stuck in his hair. But O thought he looked like an angel. Ironic. N noticed O and the little janitor would forever cherish the way N's face lit up.
"O! You followed me! I knew you would," N said proudly, walking over and wrapping O into a hug. O returned it, content to sit in N's embrace. When he was finally released, O took N's hand and slowly brought it up to his lips.
"I'll always follow you." O said before pressing a soft kiss to the back of N's hand. N laughed again.
"You can't just say things like that!" He said, blush lighting up his screen. N shifted his hand, and O let him lock their fingers together. "Now, I think it was you who wanted to get back to work?" O rolled his eyes and let N guide him out of the maze.
O turned his screen, and the eyes on it, back on. His halo remained dark, the five eyes upon it still closed. O needed to leave the manor. He needed to find out where it had sent N. But- O was scared. After everything that had happened, everything the Solver proved it could do, he wasn't ready to face it down again. He wasn't sure he could win. And O didn't want to know what he'd lose next if it beat him.
There was another warning about O's temperature before he grabbed his glass of oil. He held it up to the sky that held nothing but apocalypse in a toast, sad smile on his face.
"To the memories you don't have. And to getting them back." And with that, O drank the oil, the liquid whisking away any heat from his systems.
O stood up, empty glass abandoned on the ground, and returned to the manor. He could figure out how to leave another time. The sun was about to rise, and O was not going to be caught in it.
WC: 1,132
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
Lunch was Henry's favorite time of day. Sue him, food at Hogwarts was incredible! His mom's cooking was wonderful, he loved it, but there was something about the food at Hogwarts that Henry particularly loved. It could have been the fact that he was in a school filled to the brim with magic, or constantly among friends, but something made it taste better.Date: Early 2003/2004 School Year
Prompt(s): Hufflepuff - Nov 1, Slytherin - Nov 1
Characters: Donna and June Rotanski, Henry no last name yet
Most days, he'd eat lunch with Sara. She was this meek second year Ravenclaw who bumped into him his first week of school while he had been stumbling around lost. Sometimes he'd eat with Nicki. Nicki was a fellow first year Hufflepuff, really nice and sweet. Henry liked hanging out with Nicki, they studied together as well. Sometimes, lunch would be spent with any number or combination of friends.
But today, Henry was without either. Sara was busy studying for something or another, and Nicki was with other friends today. In fact, just about everyone Henry knew was busy. After these few months at Hogwarts, Henry had grown used to constant company. It was weird, not having anyone. He probably sought out someone else if he really wanted to, but Henry thought that would be too much of a burden. So he sat alone, not expecting anyone.
"Of course, he tried lying to my face, but I saw through it easy!" A girl, one of two, walked past where Henry was sitting. "I should have punched him." The one currently talking was wearing Slytherin robes, her friend was a Ravenclaw.
"Detention, Donnie." The Ravenclaw scolded. Both girls had seated themselves at another table, a few other people greeting them.
"Yes, because I'm soooooo worried about getting in trouble." Henry decided it was better not to eavesdrop and returned to his lunch. While he wasn't paying attention to the words anymore, the group at the other table continued chattering away. Henry tried not to think about what his friends might be doing right now. It was a it selfish, wishing they'd have joined him today.
A plate dropped onto the table right next to Henry, causing the boy to jump.
"Didn't mean to startle you, badger boy. All alone?" The girl, the Slytherin, slid into the seat next to him.
"Just for today."
"You wouldn't mind me keeping you company then, would you?" Henry shook his head. "Good. Wasn't planning on leaving anyway. I'm Donna by the way. But my friends call me Don."
"I'm Henry." He smiled and held out a hand. Donna took it, she had a good handshake.
The two ate lunch together. Henry got to learn a lot about Donna. Like how the Ravenclaw she was talking to was her older sister, that they were from a long line of wizards and witches, and how Donna could talk to snakes. Henry, in turn, shared things about himself. How he was the first one to have magic in his family, how he had a skittish little brother only 2 years younger than him, and that he didn't know if he was going to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas break or not.
After lunch was over, the two parted ways. Henry was sure that Donna hadn't intended to be anything other than temporary company, but, after all their talking, Henry was determined to be her friend.
The next time Henry saw Donna was in a joint Slytherin/Hufflepuff potions class. The professor told them to pair off with someone of the opposite house. Henry found Donna and partnered with her before she even had the chance to find someone else.
"Ah, badger boy, I wasn't expecting to see you again," Donna said cheekily. Henry shrugged. "Hope you're good at potions. Need someone who can keep up with my skill."
"I'm great at potions!" Henry replied confidently.
As it turned out, they were both liars. And down a few house points each, as well as a cauldron. Henry was borrowing Donna's until he could get another one.
Henry went home for Christmas break and thus didn't see Donna again until after the new year started. He was searching for Nicki on the train, hoping to spend the ride back to Hogwarts with him. He did not find Nicki. Instead, Henry found Donna and her sister. He skipped his way in and waved cheerfully. Donna happily waved back. A total win!
"Have a good Christmas, Henry?" She actually called him by his name! They were totally friends now! Hopefully... Henry should probably ask.
"I did. You?"
"Yep! Got a new broom, one that's absolutely coming to school with me next year. Ooo!" Donna turned to her sister, June, if Henry remembered correctly. "Or-"
"I am not sneaking a broom into school for you."
"Not even for your favoritest sister?"
"I don't recall ever saying you made top 3." Donna gasped.
"You only have two!" She exclaimed, mock offense coloring her tone. Henry laughed. "I'm hurt."
That was a fun train ride.
"Hey, Donnie, we're friends, right?" Henry finally asked one night, in the middle of the school year. The pair had snuck up to the astronomy tower after the last class (and notably after curfew) to watch the stars. The two were laying on their backs on a decorative carpet the professor had stowed away. They found it and rolled it out. It had probably been in the class at some point in the past, but someone had almost undoubtedly tripped on it, resulting in its banishment. Until now.
"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm sure. You made sure of it. Gonna be honest, didn't think sitting with you that day would lead to you following me around. Kinda cute, if you ask me." Donna replied, ruffling Henry's hair. He blushed, batting her hand away and smoothing out the mess she left. "Speaking of cute, you see those new reading glasses Nicki got?" Henry's face got even redder. "Knew it." She huffed out a laugh.
"Wha- What do you mean "knew it?" There's nothing to know! Y-you're crazy!"
"Ah, young love." Donna said wistfully.
"You're the same age as me!" Henry squawked indignantly. Donna only laughed in response.
"I do hope you both have a good reason to be up here." The voice of their astronomy professor halted any noise from the students as they both turned towards the sound. Henry gulped. He was long overdue for his first detention, especially with how much time he had been spending with Donna, known detention magnet.
WC: 1,074
Extra Notes: So I've decided that Henry and Donna are going to work on the prompts for each others' houses! That was not my original plan, but it was fun!
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
"Does anyone else actually call it that?"Date: Sometime during the 2009/2010 school year
Prompt(s): Slytherin - Nov 8
Characters: Henry no last name yet, Donna Rotanski
"I'm sure they would if more of you could use a tv without blowing it up." Henry grumbled, arms crossed. He really wished he hadn't brought anything up. It had, of course, all started earlier in the day. Back when the sun was up, just before the clouds rolled in.
It had been an ordinary day. Henry was wandering the grounds, trying not to think about how this was his last year at Hogwarts, how after this, he was going to live his life in the magical world with far less guidance than he would like. Donna and her family would be there to help, they had been for all this time already. But Henry still didn't feel prepared.
Sure, he was better at magic than a good handful of his wizard-born classmates, understood potions as well as could be hoped, and was just fine on a broom, but Henry had to wonder what fate held in store for him outside the school doors.
It wasn't as if he hadn't been to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley or other such magically dense places. But it was still different. And Henry didn't know if he was ready for that. He was the kind of person who enjoyed the comfort of familiarity, who thrived in the routine of school and the vague logic that magic followed. Homework and classes were easy, the patterns quite obvious to Henry. But the world beyond the castle walls so rarely followed such patterns. It was hectic, with other people tending to meddle in ways that disrupted the simple order of routine. (Henry knew damn well that his best friend was the kind of person who thrived on such chaos, but she was an exception, as even Donna knew when to knock it off.)
So lost Henry was in thought, it worries that he needn't have concerned himself with, that he didn't realize someone was walking far too close to him until it was too late. Henry let out a small 'oof' as he was shoulder checked. Whoever pushed him, blonde, Slytherin robes, stopped and actually shoved Henry out of the way. Probably a 7th year as well.
"Watch it, mudblood." They growled. Henry tensed so completely. He hadn't heard that word, slur, really, prior to his first year at Hogwarts, but now, seven years into the magic world, it was more than enough to set him on edge.
It really said something about Henry's company (Donna, he knew it was Donna) if his first instinct was to want to throw a punch. He didn't let people walk over him, far from it, but he also rarely turned to violence. Henry took a deep breath, still staring down the other student. Instead, he took a breath to calm down. He didn't want to let this slide, but Henry had had enough detentions this month, he needed to play this right.
So, rather than getting upset, Henry put on a smile, no joy behind it, but the corners of his eyes crinkled all the same.
"I'm sorry, have we met before?" The Slytherin faltered, and Henry felt his smile become just a little bit real.
"Would I have called you a mudblood if we haven't?" They didn't recover all that quickly, confidence having ebbed away.
"Honestly? I think you would have. I mean, after that incident in- Oh, what class what it? Potions?" Henry watched for any reaction, but what he saw wasn't quite what he was looking for. "Or- No. T-" There is was. The Slytherin tensed just slightly enough for Henry to continue. "-ransfiguration. I mean, I wouldn't trust you to hold much knowledge at all."
"You- What would you know! You can't even throw a spell!" They were panicking~ Oh, this was so fun.
"At least it's better than-" Henry made a vague motion with his hand. "Whatever that was in Transfig." The Slytherin huffed and turned on their heel, hurrying away.
Henry took great joy in relaying this information to Donna over lunch. It was cathartic, being able to one up a bully.
"Ooh, you should tell me who they are. I'll punch 'em for you." Donna twirled her wand between her fingers.
"I think I'm good. The Neal Caffrey route is way more fun."
"The- The what?" Henry snickered.
"I was Neal Caffrey-ing, Don. Using wit and charm!" He'd be the first to admit that maybe Aiden had gotten him hooked on that 'White Collar' show, but the characters were interesting! The dynamics so real and fun! Donna was looking at him like he was crazy.
"Who the bloody hell is Neal Caffrey?"
"Character from a show..." Henry mumbled, scuffing his shoe on the ground. Donna snickered in response.
WC: 794
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
Donna combed her hands through her hair. She had been pacing in Henry's living room for the better part of an hour. Henry himself was still at work. Nicki wasn't due back for quite some time either. And how was is that Henry had such better luck in his love life than she did? Really, how?Date: 2020
Prompt(s): Hufflepuff - Nov 8
Characters: Donna Rotanski, Henry and Nicki no last name yet
Nicki had been Henry's crush since almost the beginning of school. He never shut up about the other Hufflepuff boy and Henry finally worked up the courage to ask him out in their fourth year. The two stayed together throughout school. Nicki proposed a year after they graduated, and they were married the year following. Still happy, still together. And Donna was a single mom of two boys.
She loved Helios and Hecate with all her heart, and that was why she was here, in Henry's house, waiting for him to come home. And who knew how long she'd be waiting.
"Donna?" Donna looked to the voice. Standing there was Nicki, Henry's husband. "I didn't know we were expecting guests. How long have you been here?" The Hufflepuff graduate slid a messenger bag off his shoulder and dropped it onto the couch.
"Not long. I- Just waiting for Henry." Donna wrung her hands. "I can leave-"
"No! No. It's fine. You're fine, Donna. Sit, I'll get you something." Nicki walked over to the kitchen. "How are the boys?" Donna fell into the couch, draping an arm over her forehead.
"With June. She's teaching them a few things today. Other than that, the biggest news is that they want to try my broom."
"Don't let Hecate get ahold of it?"
"Just Hecate?"
"It may surprise you, but Helios is far less likely to break something or get himself hurt."
"Have you met him? You'd only think he's cute and innocent, but he's just as much as a rascal as Hecate." Donna sighed. "I love those two so much."
"I'd hope. Considering they're your kids." Nicki emerged from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and fruit slices. "Why are you here?"
"I'm reconsidering Henry's offer." Nicki snorted.
"I wouldn't."
"Hecate asked me about his father." Donna had never sounded closer to tears in all the time Nicki had known her. He set down his own plate, a bit harsher than he intended.
"Aiden is a right bastard. Donna, you don't need to do this. Not for Henry, and, if you want my opinion, it's better for the boys to never know him."
"I'm doing it for myself. Aiden wasn't- he didn't-" Donna moved her arm down over her eyes. "Aiden isn't a bad man. He just-"
"Donna, I'm saying this as your friend, but what he did is. not. okay. There is no justification I can think of that would make this right." Nicki sighed, collecting his thoughts. When Henry had first suggested reconciling with with Aiden, Nicki almost shot the idea down immediately. The only reason he didn't was because of just how sad Henry had been in that time where his brother was seemingly no-contact. "He's been back for a year and he hasn't even asked about you." Donna huffed.
"I'd assume not. He doesn't even know about the boys."
"He might. I don't know how much Henry's told him." Donna removed her arm from over her eyes, looking over to Nicki.
"You're not there when they talk?"
"I think I'd punch him." Donna grabbed a slice of apple from her plate.
"Is it wrong for me to want to see that?" Nicki shrugged.
"Only as wrong as it is for me to punch my brother-in-law." There was a brief pause before they both laughed. It was a bit strained, but the humor was there.
"Well hello! It's always great to see my two favorite people getting along!" Henry walked through the door, all pep and cheer, a stark contrast to the conversation currently being held. Nicki practically skipped over to him, and Donna resisted the urge to roll her eyes as they kissed. Henry smiled his goofy smile before turning to Donna. "Not that I'm not happy to see you here, but you usually don't visit on weekends. Any particular reason?"
Donna cleared her throat. "I'd like to talk about Aiden." She said. Straight to the point, no need to beat around the bush.
"Ah. I- um. Didn't think you'd want to." Henry followed Nicki back over to the couch.
"Why not? Reconciling was your idea, wasn't it?"
"Donnie... Well, yeah. I'd love for everyone to get along, but Don, what he did was considerably worse for you compared to anyone else, even if he didn't know it."
"And it's my choice to forgive him. Or, to start trying." Donna sighed. "It'd be unfair to not at least give him a chance, wouldn't it?" Henry didn't respond, so Donna took that as a cue to keep talking. "Since you're the only one here who can talk to him, you'll have to relay this to him." She pulled out paper and a quill, quickly scribbling as she talked. "If Aiden can stay in the twins' lives, if he can stick around and doesn't leave again, I'll let him meet them. I'd like some assurance that he won't just go back to living solely with muggles, but I know it's a lot to ask for him to stay away from them entirely, given how he's a muggle himself." The quill scratched over the paper, and Donna was careful not to smudge the wet ink. "We all know I'm well off, but his word isn't enough to trust him. I don't know muggle currency, but Henry, if you could work out an amount that would be reasonable as a form of child support over these past years, that'd be great. I'm sure the boys would enjoy being able to go to muggle shops anyway." She was still writing down little details and notes for Henry when he spoke up.
"Helios does love the muggle library." He spoke the words almost absently, but shook his head. "Yeah. I can do that. I'll- Aiden's asked about the boys already. I'm surprised he hasn't reached out to you."
"Does he know how to use owls?" There was a telling pause. Nicki was biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing. Donna had no such reservations and had no issues laughing at her friend's expense.
"Seventeen years and you never once thought to teach him about owls?"
Henry's face flushed as he turned away from Donna, only to be met with the amused eyes of his husband. Henry settled for looking at the ground. "It never came up!"
The humor of the moment was more than enough to drown out the tension of the situation. In fact, if everything outside of this house was ignored, it was almost like they were back in Hogwarts. Three friends sitting around, chatting about one thing or another, two of them laughing at their muggle-born friend for apparently forgetting he was a muggle-born. It was almost enough for Donna to forget about why this all started. She could focus on the here and now, just for today. And when she goes to pick up the boys, she can remember everything else. There was no harm in pretending everything was alright. At least- not right now.
Tomorrow it would all be back to normal. She could forget about this conversation until Aiden showed up at her door, if he ever did. And she could return to the boys, keeping Hecate away from mischief, and nudging Helios to spend more time with that Stella girl. She was dead set on making him more outgoing, and Donna appreciated her for it. At the very least, they seemed to balance each other out.
Yes. Normalcy. How strange that normal was rather abnormal in her world.
WC: 1,316
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
Reducio
It was still day, and with how the sun had been shining down these past weeks, one would think that there wouldn't be any water left for the large, muddy puddles to group was currently trudging through. Sai was leading the way, map in hand. Pyce and Star were in the middle, Pyce doing horribly because his poor feet were getting drenched in water. And Tank was bringing up the rear, watching that no one got stuck in the mud-puddle-things.
There was some cave or something they were looking for. Pyce was paying attention, he swears! He loves hearing Apollion talk! It's just- Sometimes... he pays more attention to the prince's voice, rather than the words he's saying. But that doesn't matter! Everyone else knew what they were doing, and that was the important part!
Pyce sighed and let his tail release Star's ankle. It'd be easier for Tank to pull them from the horrible water individually, and Pyce wanted to spend as little time drowning as possible if he could.
As it turned out, they were very close to the cave. It was large, dark, swallowing up any light. Pyce, eager to get out of the water and onto the solid rock that made up the cave's ground, hurried to the front of the group, right next to Sai. He assumed he'd be needed anyway, seeing how dark the inside of the cave was. His tail wagged, happy to be out of the water, and eager to be of use.
"Looks like we're here." Sai said, rolling up the map and tucking it away somewhere. Pyce puffed out his chest, just waiting for the word.
That never came. Sai, rather then turning to Pyce, pulled out four lanterns and set them on the ground of the cave. Star and Tank, finally having left the icky water, joined Pyce next to their elven friend. Sai lit all of the lanterns and handed them out to the group.
Pyce stared at the tiny, pathetic flame in his lantern for a long moment. Long enough that Tank had wrapped an arm around him and started guiding him into the cave. Pyce let it happen. He was more than annoyed with this outcome. What the hell, Sai?! Pyce puffed out an annoyed breath, warm and mostly smoke.
"Watch it, flamethrower, we've got limited oxygen in here." Stella scolded from her spot next to Sai.
"He needs to breathe." Sai shot back. Pyce glared at the both of them, even though he knew they couldn't see it. Tank looked down at him and only chuckled, apparently amused by Pyce's plight.
"You're very right, Sai." Pyce said, hoping his dear friend would see the error of their ways. But alas. No such luck. Star had even called him a flamethrower! How could his friends forget about this! Pyce was a living, breathing light source! And it's not like they hadn't used him for exactly that before!
When he got no response, Pyce turned to Tank. "You think they forgot I can breathe fire?" The half-giant shrugged, and Pyce sighed.
Compared to everything else the group had done so far, the adventure through the cave was one of the shortest things they'd done. Not that it was quick by any means. That spider thing had nearly killed Star, and Pyce was fairly certain that he accidentally killed a cult leader (but really, why the hell would a cult be running down here? That wasn't even what they were here for! Or- at least, Pyce didn't think so. If they were, then Pyce solved that problem fairly quickly, and he wasn't even trying! It was the cult leader's fault for trying to stab him with a ceremonial dagger, really.) and Tank had tried to befriend yet another slime. So- still a rather lengthy adventure, but much shorter than anything that had come before it.
The four emerged from the cave a few days after they entered. Sai was holding some strange wand/scepter thing, probably hidden away when that queen-empress-or whoever, outlawed magic. That was really starting to get on Pyce's nerves, actually. He never needed magic, but Star loved using it. She hadn't done much besides healing, but the fact that she couldn't use it, or talk about it for that matter, at all when there was anyone more than just this group? Awful. Horrible. Pyce had to endure wounds no one ought to just because they were in a city.
At the very least, it prevented the group from coming across many other magic folk. Pyce didn't know if he could survive such an encounter.
But back to the palace they went! Pyce was so excited to share the news of their success with Apollion!
On the walk back through the stupid muddy puddle water, Pyce took his chances going to the front of the group, next to Sai.
"Hey, Sai. Why'd we use lanterns in the cave?" Sai tilted their head, considering.
"Pyce, we got split up so many times. There's no way we'd have had any light if we relied on you for it. Maybe next time." The elf placed a placating pat right between Pyce's two sets of horns. Pyce sighed happily at the touch.
"Right." He said, glad this was just a silly misunderstanding. His eyes closed in a pleased, cat-like way.
"You look like an idiot."
"Shut up!"
WC: 962
Water. It always had to be water, didn't it? Pyce's tail swayed to the side, wrapping around Star's ankle. The older green dragonborn shot him an exasperated look, but didn't say anything. Pyce winced as the sludge sloshed around with each footstep, droplets splattering onto the group's clothing. He regretted staying barefoot. Not like Star was any better.Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons
Word Prompt: Lantern
A quick explanation:
ReducioFor those who don't know, Pyce Rotanski is the third iteration of my OC, Pyce. This story follows the second, a 19-year-old red dragonborn rogue by the name of Pyce Rolnar. He has a younger(16,) adopted sibling named Hecate, a human rogue/wizard. Hecate isn't actually present for the majority of Pyce's adventures, instead choosing to live a life of crime, whilst Pyce is saving kingdoms or something. They're actually becoming rather infamous at the time this takes place. Also not seen; Pyce's prince boyfriend. Also- Pyce can't read hence why my discord user is illiteratedragonborne, I crafted it after Pyce mark 2. (Mark 1 loved reading, as does mark 3)
Amongst Pyce's party are a few characters which are the inspiration for certain dNPCs in P. Rotanski's story.
Star - Pyce's full sister, a green dragonborn cleric (she's kinda a necromancer.) Older than him by a bit. They're both orphans. She's on the sassier end, and can read. Having dealt with Pyce her whole life, she's used to his antics, but that doesn't mean she has to put up with them. The inspiration for Stella Drake
Tank - Half-giant barbarian. He's kind, but rather dim. Unlike Pyce, he can actually read. One of Tank's biggest goals is to get a slime army. For fun, kinda like pets. He tries to befriend every creature the party comes across. The inspiration for the Rotanskis' pet cat, Slime
Sai - Elf bard. Pyce's best friend. A mischief maker through and through. They help Pyce by either being a distraction with their wonderful lute whilst Pyce makes off with whatever little trinket caught his fancy, or booze, for the two to share later. Or! Pyce plays distraction and Sai charms their way to whatever they need.
Pyce - I guess I'm writing more for him, because he is quite different from P. Rotanski. For one, Pyce is endlessly more outgoing than his Hogwarts counterpart. He's got an interest in anything shiny, and can easily be described as an "ankle biter," especially considering he has actually bitten ankles. He's reckless and fun-loving, finding joy in adventure of any kind. While he does help other people, most of the time, a reward is usually involved. Pyce isn't very fancy, and is quite out of place on the occasion where the party needs to mingle with high society. Much like the Pyce of today, he has a major fear of water. Though that stems from his ability to breathe fire. (Also, D&D Pyce uses he/him pronouns whilst H.io Pyce uses they/them)
It was still day, and with how the sun had been shining down these past weeks, one would think that there wouldn't be any water left for the large, muddy puddles to group was currently trudging through. Sai was leading the way, map in hand. Pyce and Star were in the middle, Pyce doing horribly because his poor feet were getting drenched in water. And Tank was bringing up the rear, watching that no one got stuck in the mud-puddle-things.
There was some cave or something they were looking for. Pyce was paying attention, he swears! He loves hearing Apollion talk! It's just- Sometimes... he pays more attention to the prince's voice, rather than the words he's saying. But that doesn't matter! Everyone else knew what they were doing, and that was the important part!
Pyce sighed and let his tail release Star's ankle. It'd be easier for Tank to pull them from the horrible water individually, and Pyce wanted to spend as little time drowning as possible if he could.
As it turned out, they were very close to the cave. It was large, dark, swallowing up any light. Pyce, eager to get out of the water and onto the solid rock that made up the cave's ground, hurried to the front of the group, right next to Sai. He assumed he'd be needed anyway, seeing how dark the inside of the cave was. His tail wagged, happy to be out of the water, and eager to be of use.
"Looks like we're here." Sai said, rolling up the map and tucking it away somewhere. Pyce puffed out his chest, just waiting for the word.
That never came. Sai, rather then turning to Pyce, pulled out four lanterns and set them on the ground of the cave. Star and Tank, finally having left the icky water, joined Pyce next to their elven friend. Sai lit all of the lanterns and handed them out to the group.
Pyce stared at the tiny, pathetic flame in his lantern for a long moment. Long enough that Tank had wrapped an arm around him and started guiding him into the cave. Pyce let it happen. He was more than annoyed with this outcome. What the hell, Sai?! Pyce puffed out an annoyed breath, warm and mostly smoke.
"Watch it, flamethrower, we've got limited oxygen in here." Stella scolded from her spot next to Sai.
"He needs to breathe." Sai shot back. Pyce glared at the both of them, even though he knew they couldn't see it. Tank looked down at him and only chuckled, apparently amused by Pyce's plight.
"You're very right, Sai." Pyce said, hoping his dear friend would see the error of their ways. But alas. No such luck. Star had even called him a flamethrower! How could his friends forget about this! Pyce was a living, breathing light source! And it's not like they hadn't used him for exactly that before!
When he got no response, Pyce turned to Tank. "You think they forgot I can breathe fire?" The half-giant shrugged, and Pyce sighed.
Compared to everything else the group had done so far, the adventure through the cave was one of the shortest things they'd done. Not that it was quick by any means. That spider thing had nearly killed Star, and Pyce was fairly certain that he accidentally killed a cult leader (but really, why the hell would a cult be running down here? That wasn't even what they were here for! Or- at least, Pyce didn't think so. If they were, then Pyce solved that problem fairly quickly, and he wasn't even trying! It was the cult leader's fault for trying to stab him with a ceremonial dagger, really.) and Tank had tried to befriend yet another slime. So- still a rather lengthy adventure, but much shorter than anything that had come before it.
The four emerged from the cave a few days after they entered. Sai was holding some strange wand/scepter thing, probably hidden away when that queen-empress-or whoever, outlawed magic. That was really starting to get on Pyce's nerves, actually. He never needed magic, but Star loved using it. She hadn't done much besides healing, but the fact that she couldn't use it, or talk about it for that matter, at all when there was anyone more than just this group? Awful. Horrible. Pyce had to endure wounds no one ought to just because they were in a city.
At the very least, it prevented the group from coming across many other magic folk. Pyce didn't know if he could survive such an encounter.
But back to the palace they went! Pyce was so excited to share the news of their success with Apollion!
On the walk back through the stupid muddy puddle water, Pyce took his chances going to the front of the group, next to Sai.
"Hey, Sai. Why'd we use lanterns in the cave?" Sai tilted their head, considering.
"Pyce, we got split up so many times. There's no way we'd have had any light if we relied on you for it. Maybe next time." The elf placed a placating pat right between Pyce's two sets of horns. Pyce sighed happily at the touch.
"Right." He said, glad this was just a silly misunderstanding. His eyes closed in a pleased, cat-like way.
"You look like an idiot."
"Shut up!"
WC: 962
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
All was quiet in the quaint little home in Ellesmere Port. Despite two infants living in the house, there wasn't a single cry heard. Their incredibly tired mother, one Donna Rotanski, was asleep on the couch, sprawled out with one of her legs bent at a rather uncomfortable looking angle. Sitting cross legged on the table like a heathen was Lea, a bubbly 15-year-old Slytherin, home for the holidays. Or rather, invading her older sister's home.Date: December 2014
Prompt(s): Hufflepuff - Nov 15
Characters: Donna, June, and Lea Rotanski, Henry and Nicki no last name yet
Over on the loveseat saw two graduated Hufflepuffs crammed together, Nicki and Henry, husbands and long time friends of Donna. Off in the kitchen was the last adult in the house, June. While her wand had been doing most of the work, the eldest Rotanski sister was working away making cider. The smell of apples and spice wafted through the house, making the homey vibes that much cozier.
The two infants, Helios and Hecate, had been laid down for the night. Neither of them were particularly fussy babies, but like any baby of that age, they had a tendency to wake themselves, and others, up at exhausting hours of the night.
"They had the audacity to say I had no right in Slytherin! Can you imagine that? A Rotanski having no right in Slytherin?" Lea was regaling those awake with a story from just before she came home for winter break. "Bloody ridiculous, the lot of them." She reached a hand for a glass of eggnog, only to have it snatched away by Nicki. The student stuck her tongue out and grabbed the glass actually belonging to her, taking a swig of the non-alcoholic variant of the beverage.
"Not all of us are snakes, Lee." June called out from the kitchen.
"Yeah, yeah. Well, mum's a raven, so you fit perfectly too." She shouted back, voice only slightly quieter than usual. Donna peeked open one eye, giving her sister a half hearted glare.
"Keep it down. I don't want to wake the boys." She grumbled tiredly.
"Ah, yes. H and H." Lea set down her cup and hopped off the table, barely making a sound despite the dramatic movement. "The wee ones will be fine. Everyone here knows how to be quiet. Sneaking out of our rooms and all."
June walked in with a tray, three mugs of cider steaming away on it. The first mug was handed to Henry, who gratefully accepted. The next was set on a small side table next to Donna's couch. The third and final mug was removed from the tray and kept for June herself. Lea and Nicki already had drinks.
"I never once snuck out of my dorm."
"Congrats, June. You want a medal?" Nicki sassed. Henry snickered quietly into his mug.
"I have those blissful, detention-free days to reminisce on, actually. So, no thank you."
"Aww, but detention's half the fun!" Lea chirped.
"How no one in this room got expelled is completely beyond me."
"Lea's still got time." Donna mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep.
"Right!" Henry said suddenly, setting his mug to the side. "Lea! Have you picked an animagus form yet?" Lea's grin widened.
"Absolutely not! There are so many things I want to be! I have to pick right, you know?" Lea pulled out her wand, swished it with a quickly whispered 'accio notebook', and nabbed said book she had called forth. Her wand was promptly snatched from her hand by an annoyed looking June.
"No magic outside of school." Both younger Rotanskis groaned. Donna sat up, finally, and rolled her eyes.
"Bug, it's not like any spell in this house is going to be traced back to her." Lea cleared her throat and showed off the first pages of her notebook. Inside were pictures of several different animals, though based on how worn the edges of the pages were, there were many more pages just like it.
"At first, I thought a bird would be fun. Secretary bird, hawk, owl, the usual."
"A secretary bird is not exactly the usual, Lea." Donna said as she picked up her mug, taking a careful sip. Lea waved her off.
"But a bird might be too much. Feathers, and all that. So then I thought about bugs. But they are far too small. It'd be useful, sure, but there's too much risk." Lea flipped a page. "So why not go bigger? One of the larger species of snake, cats, raccoons, all the way to big cats, bears, cows." She turned another page. "Too big, right? I'm still partial to the cow, but it is obvious, isn't it? So, I found the ermine. Perfectly small and crafty. Martens, weasels, ferrets. Creatures in that line. Picking between them is the last step!"
"That is quite exciting." Nicki commented, taking the notebook and flipping through it.
"Shame none of us took the opportunity to get animagus forms while we were still in school."
"As I recall, you were too scared to even think about it." Henry said, muffling his words in his mug. If looks could kill, Donna would have accidentally killed her best friend many years before that night. As it was, she wasn't that magical, so Henry remained unharmed by her gaze.
"Well, that's likely for the better. I can't imagine any of you being animagi. It's already a nightmare thinking about what Lea is going to get into once she can turn into... Whatever she chooses."
"I'm going to be an elephant just so I can wreck your house." Lea grumbled. June rolled her eyes. Donna yawned.
"Well, this truly has been fun. And I'm sorry I couldn't be more awake for it, but it is getting late." She stretched, and was about to make an attempt to leave, but was quickly stopped.
"Actually, Don," Henry started. "Nicki has been drinking, and you know you can't drive under the-"
"No one here actually drives except Donna." June commented, Henry shot her a dirty look.
"Ahem. Anyway, maybe we could all stay? Help out with the boys tomorrow?" Donna smiled.
"Sure. I- I could use the help."
When Donna awoke the next morning, her bed was filled with more people than it should have been, especially considering she had at least two guest rooms. It was a rather unusual cuddle pile, something she hadn't been a part of since her school years. Back then, Henry would smuggle her into the Hufflepuff dorms and she'd curl up with him, or later him and Nicki. It was nice, on those colder nights. But that morning, she awoke to the Hufflepuffs squishing her between them, and Lea sprawled over all of them. June certainly would not have fit on the bed, but Donna wouldn't have been surprised if she tried.
Speaking of, June was likely already awake. Far more of an early bird than the rest of them. She was either making breakfast, or perhaps tending to the twins. Donna smiled at the thought, at the warmth surrounding her.
Sure, the situation was... Unideal. But at least she still had the people that mattered most.
WC: 1,181
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
Reducio
It was... A rather lonely existence, made better by only one simple fact: Harry Potter had his cousin by his side.
Dudley Dursley, though looking remarkably like his parents, the very ones that despised Harry so, was Harry's only friend. Dudley was rather large for his age, and used that to his advantage. Other children so rarely dared to bully Harry when Dudley was around.
For ten years, the two boys on Privet Drive kept each other safe. When Harry was sent to bed without food, Dudley would request an extra portion to stow away for him. If Dudley had a test he wasn't prepared for, Harry stayed up late to help tutor him. On Dudley's birthday, he shared his gifts with Harry under the cover of night. And on Harry's birthday, Dudley sneakily made or bought cupcakes.
While life was considerably easier for Dudley, due to the babying and favor his parents gave him, it was far from good. Since Dudley could apparently do no wrong, his grades were often ignored, his outbursts justified, and his flaws not acknowledged, leaving the boy with cracks in his learning and personality. Dudley himself never had many friends either.
It was a great thing, family. As great as it could be horrible. Dudley and Harry were always there for each other, in a way that Vernon and Petunia never were. And it was for that reason, after a mysterious letter showed up addressed to Harry's cupboard, that the two chose to do something.
Perhaps, however, we should start just before the letter. To highlight the differences between the boys, and how they were treated. Dudley's birthday, a fine place to start.
Dudley was only a month older than Harry. This was one of two reasons that Dudley had always celebrated more birthdays than his younger cousin. The second reason was that Harry's birthday hadn't been celebrated even once since he came to live with the Dursleys.
Birthdays were always seen as a grand affair, Harry's excluded. Something big, something fun. The celebration almost always involved leaving the house. And leaving Harry. Harry was left with their neighbor, Mrs. Figg. Every. single. time. And Dudley hated it. Which was why he was so surprised and overjoyed, though he hid it, that his cousin would be able to go to the zoo with them!
Unfortunately, the day was slightly soured by the attendance of one of Dudley's other cousins, from his dad's side. A horrible, nasty boy named Peter. Dudley didn't know much of Peter, but what he did know, he didn't like. From the moment the boy was dropped off at the Dursleys' house, he started picking on Harry.
Dudley would have stood up for his cousin, like he did at school, or at the market, but his parents were watching. And his parents had but three simple rules that needed to be followed for Dudley to remain out of trouble. The first: Don't ask questions. Curiosity killed the cat, and with how cross Dudley's parents got at the slightest hint of a question, it'd kill Dudley next. The second: Things work only as expected and not even suggested otherwise. Peculiarities in dreams, cartoons, or even a scribbled doodle were not tolerated. And the third and final rule: There was to be no sympathy for Harry Potter. Dudley never knew why his parents hated his cousin so, but the two boys had made many guesses in their lifetimes. (Of the more outlandish guesses were that perhaps Harry was an alien, or that he was magic. Dudley always suspected him of being a fae. He was small and did manage to get to the school roof that one time.)
All this meant, of course, that Dudley could do nothing while Harry was being picked on throughout the day. It made the prospect of the zoo far less entertaining. But at least Harry got to join.
It was a thrilling day at the zoo, for both boys. Dudley may have complained at lunch that his knickerbocker glory was lacking enough ice cream. And it would be rude to let such a treat go to waste. Though Dudley may not have been able to defend his cousin properly, he did at least provide Harry with something. Dudley had barely touched the dessert, after all.
And then it was off to see the reptiles! Peter had dragged Dudley away to see some poisonous something or other, so the older boy didn't notice what Harry was getting up to until the pair returned. It was a large snake, a boa constrictor, that Harry was standing in front of. It looked like he was talking to it. Of course, Peter only cared about the fact that the snake was up and moving. Peter shoved Harry aside, where Dudley caught him before the scrawny boy could hit the ground. Harry righted himself quickly, and both boys turned to the snake- Only for Peter to cry out and jump away from the glass. Which was- no longer there. Dudley took several steps back, whereas Harry just stared. The large snake left through the front of its enclosure, where the glass had been moments before. It turned and winked at Harry before it fled out of the zoo.
All three boys were stunned. Peter and Dudley were reasonably frightened. Harry was not reasonable, nor frightened.
"Are you mad? A massive snake just escaped!" Dudley whisper shouted while his mother was off with a zoo attendant. Harry shrugged.
"It was my friend. It's going to see Brazil." Dudley shook his head fondly at his younger cousin's antics.
However, unusual things were often blamed on Harry, which meant that the moment the Dursleys returned home, he was grounded in his cupboard.
That night, and every night for essentially the next month, Dudley stayed up late, making sure he could get Harry some food, as all the boy was getting were meager meals, sometimes consisting of only toast.
Which brought Dudley and Harry to July. Specifically, the last couple of weeks in July, with Harry's 11th birthday drawing near. And that, was when things well and truly started getting weird.
It started with a letter. A simple letter. One Harry saw, but didn't open in time for it to get snatched away. Both boys were harshly shoved out of the room, where they were left standing outside the door. They briefly fought over who would listen where, with Harry eventually reasoning that fighting made no sense. Harry was smaller and could listen from the gap between the door and the floor more easily than Dudley. And that settled that.
"They knew my cupboard." Harry whispered as Vernon and Petunia were arguing. "Do you think we're being stalked?"
"Mum and dad seem to think so." The boys glanced at each other. "How did you get a stalker?" Harry shrugged.
Despite the concerning and eventful morning, nothing seemed all that different until dinner, when Vernon returned home from work. Dudley didn't know the details, but Harry demanded his letter back and, though being denied, was moved out from his cupboard and into the smallest room in the house. It was originally a closet, and Dudley tended to store the books he'd never read in there.
And then came the next morning. Dudley had realized his father was making an effort to be nice to Harry for once, and thus, the older cousin was forced to fetch the mail. Dudley didn't mind, but when he saw that letter, green ink spelling out Harry's name and address in fancy lettering, Dudley tucked it away and gave the rest of the mail to his dad.
"What did I tell you, Petunia," Vernon said as he finished sifting through the envelopes. "That letter was the start and end of all this." Harry looked rather downtrodden, but Dudley couldn't risk saying anything just yet.
When Vernon left for work, the two cousins went outside, as they usually did on any summer day. Dudley guided them to the end of the street, and then further, until he felt safe enough to reveal the letter to Harry. The younger boy gasped and snatched up the envelope, as excited as Dudley had ever seen him.
"There was another one?" Dudley nodded and watched as Harry tore the envelope open, pulling out a piece of paper. A second paper fluttered to the ground, where Dudley quickly picked it up before it could be blown away or damaged.
"Dear Mister Potter," Said Mister Potter read aloud. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September first. We await your owl by no later than July thirty-first. Your sincerely, Minerva um. McGonagall. Deputy headmistress." Both boys stared at the letter.
"A school of magic?" Dudley asked, taking the letter from Harry and reading it over. "You think this is some kind of prank?"
"If it is, it's a very elaborate one." Harry looked in the envelope. "I don't see a supply list."
"I have it." Dudley returned the letter to Harry and looked at the paper he picked up earlier.
A massive list it was. Books, wands, robes- Whoever wrote this was either quite committed to this level of tomfoolery, or it was real. Dudley hoped it was real.
"You are going to need-"
"Just give that to me!" Harry snatched the list right out of Dudley's hands and scanned it himself. "Where are we supposed to get any of this?"
"We could ask?"
"Who? It's not like Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon would bother with this. It's probably why they got rid of the first one!"
"Well, lets start with that owl. We need to figure out what it is before your birthday. I'm sure any adult would know." There was a moment of thought between them. "Mrs. Figg would probably tell us. She's at home still, isn't she?"
"Well, she hasn't been spending as much time out, if that's what you mean. But that is a good idea." Harry straightened his glasses. "Yes, lets do it!"
And so the cousins set off to their neighbor's house. Mrs. Figg had many cats, all of whom Harry was unwillingly aquatinted with. The older lady answered the door when they knocked, and invited the boys inside.
"Mrs. Figg!" Harry chirped, unusually excited to see her. "I got a letter today, and I was wondering if you knew what 'awaiting your owl' means." Mrs. Figg's eyes widened, and she she smiled so sweetly at them.
"Got your letter to Hogwarts, now did you?"
"How did you-"
"Anyone with a lick of magic gets it. I'm not surprised you've gotten yours. You need help, don't you?" Harry and Dudley nodded. "Alright. I'll handle the owl, don't worry about that at all. And school supplies? Your aunt and uncle wouldn't get that for you, would they?"
"No, I don't think so." Harry answered truthfully.
"Let me see if I can convince them to take a trip for themselves. I can keep an eye on you boys in the meantime." Mrs. Figg winked at them, and the cousins cheered happily.
It was a little less than a week later, only a handful of days left until Harry's birthday, that Mrs. Figg got to watch over them. Two days, and that was more than enough time. The first place Mrs. Figg took them was to a place called 'Leaky Cauldron.' Where she kept Harry out of sight. A few people looked at Dudley with an assessing eye, but apart from that, it was easy.
And then, she led them out to a courtyard with a brick wall. And that's where things got interesting. In a way Dudley didn't see, Mrs. Figg had done something to open the bricks in front of them, revealing a bustling city street, lined with shops of all kinds. Harry, who had been tucked to the side of her robe, took a few eager steps out, staring in wonder. Dudley followed.
"How are we going to pay for any supplies?" Harry asked as Mrs. Figg handed him another book. Dudley was looking over something about plants, he hadn't bothered to read the cover. It was fascinating stuff.
"I'll pay for it all, dearie. Just focus on getting what you need."
And that's how Dudley and Harry eventually wound up in a wand store. The less that was said about that, the better. Dudley never met his Aunt Lily or Uncle James, but he knew they died. And all his life, and Harry's life, he believed that they had been killed in a car accident. But what Mr. Ollivander had said, well, that implied very differently. Mrs. Figg had gotten them both ice cream after that.
When Harry wasn't paying attention, Dudley went up to the older woman and gave her the little money he had in his pocket.
"I don't know how much things cost in wizard money," He admitted. "But would this be enough to get something for Harry? A gift? His birthday is soon and-" Mrs. Figg pressed a few gold coins into Dudley's hand and pointed him in the direction of Eeylop's Owl Emporium.
"Get him something from there. I'm sure he'll appreciate it." Dudley nodded and hurried away to get... An owl? Probably?
The store was loud, filled with hooting and screeching. Dudley scanned the walls, lined with nests and nesting boxes, and then he laid his eyes on the one. She was a gorgeous snowy owl, with spotted wings and too-wise eyes. Dudley purchased her almost immediately.
He returned to Mrs. Figg and Harry. It was nice to see his cousin so happy for once. Dudley wished it could have been like this more often. Fun outings, not all the crazy unexpected magic stuff.
"I got you an early birthday present, Harry!" Dudley said, holding the owl's cage behind his back. "Close your eyes." The younger boy did as instructed, and Dudley carefully set the cage in front of Harry. "You can look now!" Harry opened his eyes and gasped.
"An owl? She's so pretty!" Harry stroked her head through the bars of the cage. "I'll have to name her."
"She can send mail for you, once you're at Hogwarts." Mrs. Figg said. "Good companions, owls. Though, I have always been partial to cats." Harry crinkled his nose at her words, Dudley laughed.
That day at Diagon Alley, for that was what the place was called, was one of the best that Dudley had had in a long time. It was sad, having to go back home, but planning was to be had.
Harry was to go to Hogwarts, that much was a given. But how to get him there? Mrs. Figg had given Harry a train ticket, one for a Platform 9¾ at King's Cross, but even before then, Harry was expected to go to Stonewall High.
Harry's birthday saw both boys huddled on his bed, ideas scribbled messily on any paper they could get their hands on.
"I've got it!" Harry said suddenly, searching around for a spare sheet of paper. "Hogwarts it a boarding school! We just say Stonewall is too!"
"But Stonewall isn't." Dudley said. And his parents would know that. "Unless-"
"Unless we say they're starting a new boarding program!" Harry somehow finished Dudley's exact thought. "We write a letter and say that it's a new program the school is trying. That this test is completely free and for the year." Harry wrote something down on the paper, quickly, but cleanly. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would love to be rid of me for a year!"
And so the plan was set in motion. A letter was sent, looking as though it was from Stonewall when in actuality, it was the plot of the two pre-teens, and then, that was that. Harry was right, of course he was, and the Dursley adults were glad to have him off their hands.
Which left Mrs. Figg to drive the boys to King's Cross on September 1st. She dropped them off and went on her way, stating that she had some errands to run, but would be back to pick up Dudley. Dudley was there just so he could see his cousin off.
And then, there was a whole new problem. Because where was one to ever find a platform between 9 and 10?
Much easier than either boy suspected, courtesy of one Molly Weasley and her family, who were just about to happen upon the boys.
WC: 2,808
Harry Potter was used to being forgotten. His aunt and uncle disliked him for reasons no one was quite sure of. Most of the kids at school picked on him. Even the teachers tended to avoid him where they could.Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Prompt(s): Nothing, I was struck randomly with inspiration.
A quick explanation: AU time! I was at work listening to the first Harry Potter audiobook, as the wonderful internet archive has it available. And I was listening to the third chapter, Letters From No One, and came upon the scene with Harry and Dudley fighting to listen at the door. And I thought to myself, "What sibling like behavior! Such a shame that Dudley actually sucks." And then I came up with the idea to make Dudley not suck. It does change quite a bit of the beginning of Harry's story (as in, Diagon Alley early, not baby Harry early) but it was fun! Since Dudley is working with Harry, rather than against, it means Harry gets a hold of the second letter from Hogwarts! And thus Hagrid isn't the one to get him! But I'll leave some of that story down below, rather than me just spoiling it all right now
Am I skipping the next Slytherin prompt with Henry? Yes, yes I am. I got wildly stuck even coming up for an idea, so consider this a free space of sorts.
It was... A rather lonely existence, made better by only one simple fact: Harry Potter had his cousin by his side.
Dudley Dursley, though looking remarkably like his parents, the very ones that despised Harry so, was Harry's only friend. Dudley was rather large for his age, and used that to his advantage. Other children so rarely dared to bully Harry when Dudley was around.
For ten years, the two boys on Privet Drive kept each other safe. When Harry was sent to bed without food, Dudley would request an extra portion to stow away for him. If Dudley had a test he wasn't prepared for, Harry stayed up late to help tutor him. On Dudley's birthday, he shared his gifts with Harry under the cover of night. And on Harry's birthday, Dudley sneakily made or bought cupcakes.
While life was considerably easier for Dudley, due to the babying and favor his parents gave him, it was far from good. Since Dudley could apparently do no wrong, his grades were often ignored, his outbursts justified, and his flaws not acknowledged, leaving the boy with cracks in his learning and personality. Dudley himself never had many friends either.
It was a great thing, family. As great as it could be horrible. Dudley and Harry were always there for each other, in a way that Vernon and Petunia never were. And it was for that reason, after a mysterious letter showed up addressed to Harry's cupboard, that the two chose to do something.
Perhaps, however, we should start just before the letter. To highlight the differences between the boys, and how they were treated. Dudley's birthday, a fine place to start.
Dudley was only a month older than Harry. This was one of two reasons that Dudley had always celebrated more birthdays than his younger cousin. The second reason was that Harry's birthday hadn't been celebrated even once since he came to live with the Dursleys.
Birthdays were always seen as a grand affair, Harry's excluded. Something big, something fun. The celebration almost always involved leaving the house. And leaving Harry. Harry was left with their neighbor, Mrs. Figg. Every. single. time. And Dudley hated it. Which was why he was so surprised and overjoyed, though he hid it, that his cousin would be able to go to the zoo with them!
Unfortunately, the day was slightly soured by the attendance of one of Dudley's other cousins, from his dad's side. A horrible, nasty boy named Peter. Dudley didn't know much of Peter, but what he did know, he didn't like. From the moment the boy was dropped off at the Dursleys' house, he started picking on Harry.
Dudley would have stood up for his cousin, like he did at school, or at the market, but his parents were watching. And his parents had but three simple rules that needed to be followed for Dudley to remain out of trouble. The first: Don't ask questions. Curiosity killed the cat, and with how cross Dudley's parents got at the slightest hint of a question, it'd kill Dudley next. The second: Things work only as expected and not even suggested otherwise. Peculiarities in dreams, cartoons, or even a scribbled doodle were not tolerated. And the third and final rule: There was to be no sympathy for Harry Potter. Dudley never knew why his parents hated his cousin so, but the two boys had made many guesses in their lifetimes. (Of the more outlandish guesses were that perhaps Harry was an alien, or that he was magic. Dudley always suspected him of being a fae. He was small and did manage to get to the school roof that one time.)
All this meant, of course, that Dudley could do nothing while Harry was being picked on throughout the day. It made the prospect of the zoo far less entertaining. But at least Harry got to join.
It was a thrilling day at the zoo, for both boys. Dudley may have complained at lunch that his knickerbocker glory was lacking enough ice cream. And it would be rude to let such a treat go to waste. Though Dudley may not have been able to defend his cousin properly, he did at least provide Harry with something. Dudley had barely touched the dessert, after all.
And then it was off to see the reptiles! Peter had dragged Dudley away to see some poisonous something or other, so the older boy didn't notice what Harry was getting up to until the pair returned. It was a large snake, a boa constrictor, that Harry was standing in front of. It looked like he was talking to it. Of course, Peter only cared about the fact that the snake was up and moving. Peter shoved Harry aside, where Dudley caught him before the scrawny boy could hit the ground. Harry righted himself quickly, and both boys turned to the snake- Only for Peter to cry out and jump away from the glass. Which was- no longer there. Dudley took several steps back, whereas Harry just stared. The large snake left through the front of its enclosure, where the glass had been moments before. It turned and winked at Harry before it fled out of the zoo.
All three boys were stunned. Peter and Dudley were reasonably frightened. Harry was not reasonable, nor frightened.
"Are you mad? A massive snake just escaped!" Dudley whisper shouted while his mother was off with a zoo attendant. Harry shrugged.
"It was my friend. It's going to see Brazil." Dudley shook his head fondly at his younger cousin's antics.
However, unusual things were often blamed on Harry, which meant that the moment the Dursleys returned home, he was grounded in his cupboard.
That night, and every night for essentially the next month, Dudley stayed up late, making sure he could get Harry some food, as all the boy was getting were meager meals, sometimes consisting of only toast.
Which brought Dudley and Harry to July. Specifically, the last couple of weeks in July, with Harry's 11th birthday drawing near. And that, was when things well and truly started getting weird.
It started with a letter. A simple letter. One Harry saw, but didn't open in time for it to get snatched away. Both boys were harshly shoved out of the room, where they were left standing outside the door. They briefly fought over who would listen where, with Harry eventually reasoning that fighting made no sense. Harry was smaller and could listen from the gap between the door and the floor more easily than Dudley. And that settled that.
"They knew my cupboard." Harry whispered as Vernon and Petunia were arguing. "Do you think we're being stalked?"
"Mum and dad seem to think so." The boys glanced at each other. "How did you get a stalker?" Harry shrugged.
Despite the concerning and eventful morning, nothing seemed all that different until dinner, when Vernon returned home from work. Dudley didn't know the details, but Harry demanded his letter back and, though being denied, was moved out from his cupboard and into the smallest room in the house. It was originally a closet, and Dudley tended to store the books he'd never read in there.
And then came the next morning. Dudley had realized his father was making an effort to be nice to Harry for once, and thus, the older cousin was forced to fetch the mail. Dudley didn't mind, but when he saw that letter, green ink spelling out Harry's name and address in fancy lettering, Dudley tucked it away and gave the rest of the mail to his dad.
"What did I tell you, Petunia," Vernon said as he finished sifting through the envelopes. "That letter was the start and end of all this." Harry looked rather downtrodden, but Dudley couldn't risk saying anything just yet.
When Vernon left for work, the two cousins went outside, as they usually did on any summer day. Dudley guided them to the end of the street, and then further, until he felt safe enough to reveal the letter to Harry. The younger boy gasped and snatched up the envelope, as excited as Dudley had ever seen him.
"There was another one?" Dudley nodded and watched as Harry tore the envelope open, pulling out a piece of paper. A second paper fluttered to the ground, where Dudley quickly picked it up before it could be blown away or damaged.
"Dear Mister Potter," Said Mister Potter read aloud. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September first. We await your owl by no later than July thirty-first. Your sincerely, Minerva um. McGonagall. Deputy headmistress." Both boys stared at the letter.
"A school of magic?" Dudley asked, taking the letter from Harry and reading it over. "You think this is some kind of prank?"
"If it is, it's a very elaborate one." Harry looked in the envelope. "I don't see a supply list."
"I have it." Dudley returned the letter to Harry and looked at the paper he picked up earlier.
A massive list it was. Books, wands, robes- Whoever wrote this was either quite committed to this level of tomfoolery, or it was real. Dudley hoped it was real.
"You are going to need-"
"Just give that to me!" Harry snatched the list right out of Dudley's hands and scanned it himself. "Where are we supposed to get any of this?"
"We could ask?"
"Who? It's not like Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon would bother with this. It's probably why they got rid of the first one!"
"Well, lets start with that owl. We need to figure out what it is before your birthday. I'm sure any adult would know." There was a moment of thought between them. "Mrs. Figg would probably tell us. She's at home still, isn't she?"
"Well, she hasn't been spending as much time out, if that's what you mean. But that is a good idea." Harry straightened his glasses. "Yes, lets do it!"
And so the cousins set off to their neighbor's house. Mrs. Figg had many cats, all of whom Harry was unwillingly aquatinted with. The older lady answered the door when they knocked, and invited the boys inside.
"Mrs. Figg!" Harry chirped, unusually excited to see her. "I got a letter today, and I was wondering if you knew what 'awaiting your owl' means." Mrs. Figg's eyes widened, and she she smiled so sweetly at them.
"Got your letter to Hogwarts, now did you?"
"How did you-"
"Anyone with a lick of magic gets it. I'm not surprised you've gotten yours. You need help, don't you?" Harry and Dudley nodded. "Alright. I'll handle the owl, don't worry about that at all. And school supplies? Your aunt and uncle wouldn't get that for you, would they?"
"No, I don't think so." Harry answered truthfully.
"Let me see if I can convince them to take a trip for themselves. I can keep an eye on you boys in the meantime." Mrs. Figg winked at them, and the cousins cheered happily.
It was a little less than a week later, only a handful of days left until Harry's birthday, that Mrs. Figg got to watch over them. Two days, and that was more than enough time. The first place Mrs. Figg took them was to a place called 'Leaky Cauldron.' Where she kept Harry out of sight. A few people looked at Dudley with an assessing eye, but apart from that, it was easy.
And then, she led them out to a courtyard with a brick wall. And that's where things got interesting. In a way Dudley didn't see, Mrs. Figg had done something to open the bricks in front of them, revealing a bustling city street, lined with shops of all kinds. Harry, who had been tucked to the side of her robe, took a few eager steps out, staring in wonder. Dudley followed.
"How are we going to pay for any supplies?" Harry asked as Mrs. Figg handed him another book. Dudley was looking over something about plants, he hadn't bothered to read the cover. It was fascinating stuff.
"I'll pay for it all, dearie. Just focus on getting what you need."
And that's how Dudley and Harry eventually wound up in a wand store. The less that was said about that, the better. Dudley never met his Aunt Lily or Uncle James, but he knew they died. And all his life, and Harry's life, he believed that they had been killed in a car accident. But what Mr. Ollivander had said, well, that implied very differently. Mrs. Figg had gotten them both ice cream after that.
When Harry wasn't paying attention, Dudley went up to the older woman and gave her the little money he had in his pocket.
"I don't know how much things cost in wizard money," He admitted. "But would this be enough to get something for Harry? A gift? His birthday is soon and-" Mrs. Figg pressed a few gold coins into Dudley's hand and pointed him in the direction of Eeylop's Owl Emporium.
"Get him something from there. I'm sure he'll appreciate it." Dudley nodded and hurried away to get... An owl? Probably?
The store was loud, filled with hooting and screeching. Dudley scanned the walls, lined with nests and nesting boxes, and then he laid his eyes on the one. She was a gorgeous snowy owl, with spotted wings and too-wise eyes. Dudley purchased her almost immediately.
He returned to Mrs. Figg and Harry. It was nice to see his cousin so happy for once. Dudley wished it could have been like this more often. Fun outings, not all the crazy unexpected magic stuff.
"I got you an early birthday present, Harry!" Dudley said, holding the owl's cage behind his back. "Close your eyes." The younger boy did as instructed, and Dudley carefully set the cage in front of Harry. "You can look now!" Harry opened his eyes and gasped.
"An owl? She's so pretty!" Harry stroked her head through the bars of the cage. "I'll have to name her."
"She can send mail for you, once you're at Hogwarts." Mrs. Figg said. "Good companions, owls. Though, I have always been partial to cats." Harry crinkled his nose at her words, Dudley laughed.
That day at Diagon Alley, for that was what the place was called, was one of the best that Dudley had had in a long time. It was sad, having to go back home, but planning was to be had.
Harry was to go to Hogwarts, that much was a given. But how to get him there? Mrs. Figg had given Harry a train ticket, one for a Platform 9¾ at King's Cross, but even before then, Harry was expected to go to Stonewall High.
Harry's birthday saw both boys huddled on his bed, ideas scribbled messily on any paper they could get their hands on.
"I've got it!" Harry said suddenly, searching around for a spare sheet of paper. "Hogwarts it a boarding school! We just say Stonewall is too!"
"But Stonewall isn't." Dudley said. And his parents would know that. "Unless-"
"Unless we say they're starting a new boarding program!" Harry somehow finished Dudley's exact thought. "We write a letter and say that it's a new program the school is trying. That this test is completely free and for the year." Harry wrote something down on the paper, quickly, but cleanly. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would love to be rid of me for a year!"
And so the plan was set in motion. A letter was sent, looking as though it was from Stonewall when in actuality, it was the plot of the two pre-teens, and then, that was that. Harry was right, of course he was, and the Dursley adults were glad to have him off their hands.
Which left Mrs. Figg to drive the boys to King's Cross on September 1st. She dropped them off and went on her way, stating that she had some errands to run, but would be back to pick up Dudley. Dudley was there just so he could see his cousin off.
And then, there was a whole new problem. Because where was one to ever find a platform between 9 and 10?
Much easier than either boy suspected, courtesy of one Molly Weasley and her family, who were just about to happen upon the boys.
WC: 2,808
Last edited by Pyce Rotanski on 26 Nov 2025, 08:30, edited 1 time in total.
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
From the very moment Hecate stepped up to be sorted, he just knew he was going to be a Slytherin.Date: 2025/2026 School Year
Prompt(s): Mirror 'cause Hecate and Pyce are identical twins? Looking at each other is like looking in a mirror! I dunno. I just wanted to write Hecate
Characters: Hecate, Pyce, and Donna Rotanski, Morris "Mori" Agaricus
"My, another Rotanski, I see. It's been some time since I've seen one of you." The hat said to Hecate. He only grinned in response. "You are so confident in your place in this world. Your mother, aunt, countless family members before you. You aim to follow in their footsteps. Not just for legacy, for the power associated with the house of your family. No, you believe well and truly that Slytherin is where you belong regardless. Might I say, you have the heart of a Gryffindor. Not to say that is where you belong, but your traits don't sway you fully to one house or the other. In such moments of indecisiveness, I find it best to let the student choose. But you've already made your choice, haven't you?" Hecate was shaking in excitement. Finally! He was going to be the Slytherin he always knew he was! "SLYTHERIN!" The hat called out. And Hecate wasted no time in returning the hat and dashing off to the Slytherin table, turning back just long enough to shoot his twin a double thumbs up.
"Mori!" Hecate cheered as he tackled his friend in a hug.
"Hecate!" The older student cried out, catching Hecate easily. "How am I not surprised?" Mori set Hecate down and brushed a long, silver strand of hair out of their face. Hecate happily bounced in place before Mori found him a seat.
Somewhat calmed for the moment, Hecate turned his attention back to the front of the hall, where Pyce still had the Sorting Hat on. Did it take so long for him to get sorted? He turned to Mori, intending to ask when a loud "GRYFFINDOR!!” sounded from the hat.
(Hecate would later swear that the whole Great Hall fell completely silent when the house was announced. Like some great truth of the universe had been changed, that fate itself had been rewritten. Pyce later told him that the noise hadn't stopped, and in fact, had gotten louder from the cheers of the Gryffindor table, but Hecate never believed it.)
Despite the unideal sorting for Pyce, Heacte and Mori cheered! Gryffindor was, objectively, the best house to be in! At least, most anyone in the magical world, Gryffindor or otherwise, seemed to think so.
"Holy shit." Mori tensed and turned to Hecate. "Don't r-"
"I know, I know." Hecate waved them off.
"The little raven made it to the house of heroes."
"They're not happy about it." Hecate frowned. And he was right, naturally. Pyce looked miserable, walking over to the Gryffindor table. Hecate wanted to wrap his brother in a hug, hold them tight and never let go. They felt a little guilty for cheering now, actually.
Hecate had gotten everything he wanted. He was a Slytherin! But what about Pyce? Not only had they been certain of their own sorting, but so had everyone around them! And, well, they weren't exactly a Ravenclaw, now were they?
After the rest of the first years were sorted, the feast began. Hecate wasn't completely sure about food. He was worried about Pyce. His brother was- well, no, Pyce was completely capable of being on their own, even in unfamiliar territory. But the disappointment of the sorting? Would Pyce be okay at all? Would they eat? Hecate was starting to make himself sick with worry.
"Hecate, are you okay?" Mori asked, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Hecate shook his head.
"No, no. I just- Pyce?"
"Is probably considerably less worried about this than you are. Eat, the food's good here." Mori set a roll on Hecate's plate. The new Slytherin sighed and gave in, picking up the warm and fluffy roll to take a bite. It was slightly sweet, just enough to know that it was, but not enough for someone to really care. Hecate tended not to like sweet, but this was alright.
The roll seemed to just be the beginning. After that, Hecate seemed to finally feel hungry, the excitement of the day finally catching up. He piled all sorts of food on is plate, as much as he could reach.
Dinner was wonderful. Perfect. Hecate's mom was not a bad cook, but she wasn't the best. It was good food, but it had nothing on the meal at Hogwarts. He hoped that every meal was going to be just like this one.
After eating, the tables made their way to the house dorms. Hecate followed Mori the whole way there. Most of the other first years were trailing behind the older students. So Hecate was amongst higher years. Mori was chatting to a few other people, talking about the password for this year.
Down a few flight of magic stairs, there was an unassuming wall. If Hecate hadn't been surrounded by graduated Slytherins, he would have thought nothing of it. But he was still surprised when the wall gave way to the common room.
It looked cozy. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace, plush couches and seats circling it. Further from the fire were a few desks with simple chairs nearby. The whole room was tinted slightly green. Hecate wasn't actually sure why.
Mori took Hecate by the shoulders, guiding the younger student towards the dorms. "C'mon, 'Cate. Ickle firsties require sleep." He was too close to the edge of a food coma to complain.
And that was how Hecate ended up in a soft, comfortable bed, Moxy curled up at him feet. The half-crup puppy was really warm, and Hecate fell asleep to the pup's snuffling breaths.
Hecate had a wonderful first few months! Classes were... Something. Charms was great! Herbology and Potions less so. And despite all the giddy excitement Hecate had since day one, Pyce was doing... Less okay. The newly dubbed Gryffindor spent the first week out of classes in the library. Hecate visited them, seeing his mopey brother curled up in a corner of the library, only books for company. It was depressing just looking at them.
Everyone and their mother knew that Pyce was supposed to be a Ravenclaw. And if not that, at least a Slytherin. Hecate didn't want to say that the Sorting Hat was wrong, but every time he saw how pathetic Pyce looked? Yeah, Hecate was willing to say it was wrong.
Or not. Something had changed in Pyce after the Fall Ball. There was a bit of a skip in Pyce's step that had disappeared after the sorting. But it was back! And Hecate had never been happier to see it!
Pyce wasn't happy about their house still, Hecate knew that much, but they had accepted it! Which was great. Hecate didn't think he could survive Pyce moping all year. And it meant he could enjoy his house that much more!
It was late October now, Hecate was as excited for Halloween as he always was, and the first broom race of the year was taking place! 10 am and Hecate hurried his sleepy self to watch. Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. Hecate had asked if Pyce knew any of the Gryffindor team. They did not.
The names, from what Hecate could remember last he saw them were Della, Linda, Raizel, Martyr, Graci, and someone else. V- something.
What Hecate knew was not the roster, was all those names, minus V, plus Pyce Rotanski. Walking out onto the track with the rest of the Gryffindor team, shakily holding a broom, the cold wind whipping around any hair Pyce hadn't secured. Speaking of, their hair, usually in a simple ponytail, was fastened more securely, their bangs not even slightly visible. They looked dorky. And Hecate was going to tell them that after the race.
It was absolutely terrifying watching that race, of course it was! It started off horribly for Hecate's twin! He was on the edge of his seat, hoping that Pyce would be okay, that they'd make it past the next obstacle unscathed.
After the race, Hecate dragged Pyce to see the outcome of his house versus Ravenclaw. (And he pointedly ignored the thought that maybe, had everything gone right, it could have been his and Pyce's house racing each other. Besides, Pyce was happy now, they were in the broom racing team! It was now Hecate who needed to let go.)
Hecate was unsurprised that Pyce wanted to go home for Christmas. He did too, he missed home. Sure, Hecate would not have minded spending the holidays at Hogwarts, he felt right at home in Slytherin, but maybe the Gryffindor common room was less inviting to Pyce.
"-The day before the race!" Pyce was retelling the story of how they ended up on the broom racing team. Apparently, there wasn't even a full day's warning, someone had dropped out last minute.
"I was wondering why you were out there." Hecate added on idly. He had heard this before. Pyce popped a ginger chew in their mouth.
"Mhmm. It was crazy. I'm glad I had as much time to prepare as I did. Imagine if I only had an hour!"
Hecate elbowed Pyce playfully. "You'd probably have fallen off your broom before anything happened." Pyce pushed him back.
"No!! I think I did pretty good!" They giggled. The two scuffled while their mom watched, long used to their antics.
Christmas was one of Hecate's favorite holidays! Pyce and Hecate helped decorate the tree when they got home from school and got to do all the usual fun Christmas activities they did every year! Cookies, cocoa, snowball fights, it was perfect!
And then, Christmas morning! Pyce made it down first, unsurprisingly, they were always an early riser, and Hecate was down not too long after, Moxy Alc at his heels. Hecate planned on shortening that nickname to just Alc. He didn't know how half-crups responded to nickname changes though.
"'Morning Pie," Hecate drawled sleepily.
"Gooooood morning, 'Cate!" Pyce chirped.
"You are too chipper for-" Hecate glanced around the room for a clock.
"Ten?"
"Yeah, that." The Slytherin collapsed next to his Gryffindor brother. (Hecate needed to stop thinking like that. He was hurting himself at this point.)
"Good morning, scoundrels." Their mom greeted, walking in from the kitchen. "Food, then gifts." Two plates of waffles were set down on the living room table, and Pyce hurried over to theirs, sliding Hecate his plate.
It was mere minutes before the plates were clean and returned to the kitchen. Both twins raced back to the tree, their amused mother waiting for them, warm mug of cocoa in her hands.
"For presents, we go Pyce, Hecate, me. Yeah?"
"Okay!" The twins chirped together.
Hecate snatched a wrapped gift from under the tree. He didn't need to check the label. It was something small, Hecate had wrapped it himself. He tossed the small present to Pyce, who caught it easily. They looked at Hecate questioningly for a moment before carefully working the wrapping paper off. They always took such a long time, making sure they didn't rip the paper.
"A compass?" They asked, holding the golden compass in their hands.
"A broom compass. For when you get your own broom." Hecate said.
"I'm a first year."
"You won't always be. Assuming you don't drop the team, it's pretty nice, eh?" Pyce gave a slight nod, and Hecate was almost worried he messed up, until Pyce tackled him into a hug. After a moment, they slunk back to the spot on the floor where they had been sitting. Pyce pulled a present from under the tree, checked the tag, and gave it to Hecate.
Hecate was far less careful with the paper than his twin, ripping it off without a care. The paper gave way to a bracelet making kit. Hecate smiled happily, showing it off.
"And now you can stop stealing mine," Pyce commented, and Hecate couldn't decide if he was being insulted or not. He decided on not, and fished around for a present to their mother. One was found fairly quickly, and delivered into her arms.
It had been from Uncle Henry, apparently, and was a plush badger with a Slytherin scarf. His mom laughed and set the thing on the table.
And so continued Christmas morning. In the end, Pyce ended up with one of those glasses chain things, far too many sweets, a fluffy new blanket, some notebooks, quills, and pencils, and some fancy new ink.
Hecate got some sweaters, which he insisted he didn't need, and then was scolded over his lack of keeping warm, which Hecate resented, because he did keep warm! He just happened to use the far more comfortable hoodie, rather than scratchy sweaters. He also got all manner of prank materials, both muggle and magic, a deck of cards, and some licorice wands.
The twins' mother got a few books from Aunt June, some potion ingredients from Aunt Lea, gifts neither child was allowed to ask about from Uncle Nicki, and a few sentimental items from their grandparents.
A day or so after New Year's eve, Pyce and Hecate were packed and ready, their mother dragging them to King's Cross station. They boarded the train without issue, Mori was already there, so Hecate went to sit next to them. And he realized far too late that Pyce hadn't followed him. They must have gotten separated in the crowd. Hecate would have gone to look for them, but the train was already in motion, Pyce had likely found somewhere else to sit.
That was fine. Hecate would see them again before nightfall.
WC: 2,273
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."
The Many Lives Inside Hogwarts
Reducio
It didn't bother him at all. Sans likely couldn't be bothered. After all, he didn't have emotions anymore.
Time passed and Sans just stayed there, sitting in the void. He slowly began to forget. Sans didn't know where he came from, if he came from anywhere, or if he had simply been here his whole life. Sans didn't remember anyone, he knew himself, he knew the void. It wasn't long before he forgot his own name.
And that was how it was for some unknown amount of time.
The void was lonely, but the skeleton trapped there wouldn't know it. The void was empty, but empty was familiar. The void was-
Color.
The small skeleton leapt up as a glob of paint dripped onto him. It coated his whole body, thick and gloopy and messy. It seeped between his bones, and before he knew it, a joyful laugh bubbled up inside! The skeleton whooped and ran around, happiness filling his soul so completely! The skeleton couldn't remember feeling like this before, it was wonderful! The skeleton, Yellow, danced around, taking in the color where he could. Yellow had never felt like this before, and he would cherish this feeling forever!
So Yellow spend the day dancing and playing, having forgotten all about how emotionless he had been only moments before. Because the color filled his world with so much! Yellow didn't feel lonely because the paint didn't let him feel lonely! Yellow's world was two colors, the yellow of the paint, and the white that was already shrinking away under the paint's advances.
Happy tears pricked at the corner of Yellow's eye sockets. He loved this! And he never wanted this feeling to end. Yellow wanted to feel this happy forever! He might not remember the blankness he felt when it was just him and the void, but he didn't want to think about life without the paint.
And then, Yellow began to wonder, if the paint could make him this happy, could it do anything else? Yellow took some of the paint on his finger and smudged the floor of the void with a simple doodle of a butterfly. Yellow wasn't actually sure what a butterfly was, but the shape seemed right. And it must have been right! Because not a moment later, a butterfly, the same color as Yellow's happiness, fluttered off of the ground, leaving a spot of void where the drawing had been. And Yellow found the power the paint held.
All this time, Yellow hadn't actually been wearing anything. He hadn't minded before, because he hadn't been Yellow. But now he was, and bare bones did not make for a very warm skeleton. Yellow started off simple, painting a strip of fabric, and pulling it free from the ground he painted it on. It was a scarf, warm and colorful, though its color melted from the same as the paint, as Yellow's happiness, so something darker, warmer. Yellow didn't have a name for this color yet, but he wrapped the scarf around his neck and was content and warm.
Yellow made more clothes, a shirt, some fingerless gloves, shorts. All were the same color as his happiness and didn't change like his scarf. And Yellow was very happy.
Until the color faded away. Yellow- no- the name was slipping away from him almost as fast as the paint had. The skeleton slumped to the floor of the void again, not feeling, not remembering, just empty.
And so he remained again.
And then he wasn't! A new splash of paint colored the skeleton's world! This skeleton couldn't remember the wonderful feelings the paint brought him last time, but Brown, for that must have been his name, felt content. It was a warm, easy emotion. It didn't make him bounce around, but it made him hum a happy tune, made him skip to and fro. It was a very nice paint, Brown thought, as most of his clothing was the same color as contentedness, as belonging. Brown quite liked his scarf the most, though. It was warm, just like Brown's content, and fit around him so snuggly. The rest of Brown's clothes fell into different shades of the paint, but the same color nonetheless.
Now, Brown couldn't remember the power the paint held, how it brought a butterfly to life, or how it manifested his clothing from nothing but color. But Brown reached out, and he started shaping something. It was long, taller than Brown, probably, and had a furry, bristly bit at the end. It was a bit big, but Brown liked it, so he made a smaller one. A paintbrush. So he could move the color around easier, make things with it without having to use his fingers.
Brown took the little brush and made another butterfly, it fluttered away and into the void. Then, he made a mouse, it squeaked in his palm. Brown made so many things with his little brush, birds, bats, mud. It was wonderful! Brown felt very content, for this color was Brown's content, it only made sense, after all. Brown used his bigger brush to make bigger things. He made a moose, he made a big, fluffy blanket, he started on something he called a "tree." But it was missing something. Maybe it was a dead tree?
And so Brown lived happily. The color of his content painted the floor of the void, and Brown couldn't feel alone still, but he could feel content.
Until he couldn't. And the cycle repeated itself again.
This new paint felt familiar! It wasn't the color of Green's happiness, no, but it felt like it! It felt like giddy, childlike wonder, and for the first time, Green could remember that he wasn't always like this. He couldn't feel sad about the loss of his happiness, or of his content, but he could try and change something. Green took his smaller brush and used it to make a container for the color. It was a thin vial, and Green almost considered making something bigger, but he didn't really want to make another thing to hold color. It was glass and had a slight tint, the color of Green's... hmm. Green was going to call this color "giddy." Happy and giddy were very similar colors. So the glass vial was tinted the color of giddy, and Green scooped some of the paint inside. That way, he could have more whenever this ran out!
And run out it did. The skeleton returned to the same blank nothing as always, a small vial of color in his hand. He looked at it for a long, considering moment. The skeleton popped the heart shaped glass cork off, and gulped down every last drop of saved giddy.
Green immediately knew he messed up when he saw the empty vial. He didn't know how long his color would last, and he had no idea how to find more. Green found the discarded cork and reunited it with the vial. He looked out over the nothing where he lived. It was weird, seeing it without the splashes of color. Green took out his larger brush, affectionately named Broomie, and started walking, the brush leaving behind a trail of black. It took a bit for Green to notice, but when he did, he whirled around and looked at the trail. It seemingly disappeared as he walked, with the beginning entirely gone. Green looked in consideration for a moment, before making a black circle around himself with Broomie.
And he promptly fell through the floor.
Green landed on cold, wet, white ground with a soft "oof!" He pulled himself off of the ground and looked around. And there was so. Much. Color. Everywhere Green looked there was something else! He could recognize the color of his content, of his happiness, of his giddiness! And- and more! Green didn't have a name for these colors, because he didn't know how they felt, but- what if he could?
Green reached out to touch this random lamp lying nearby and-
Oh. That wasn't a very nice color. Green- No, that couldn't be it, he didn't feel very Green. No, he felt rather Blue, actually. Blue sniffled sadly. No, sad wasn't a very nice color at all. Blue pressed his little paintbrush to the lamp, hoping to paint it a happier color. Instead, when Blue pulled the brush away, the sadness came with it. Blue stared for a long moment, and he could feel giddy lingering in a corner of his mind
Feeling a bit of both, Blue- or maybe Green? Made another vial out of Blue's sadness. He filled it with the color he drew from the lamp, careful to not let any splash on him. Color was color, was it not? And sadness was the same color as the sea! As the waves and the sky, of this strange lamp.
But BG could pull colors out of things! He could find his happiness again! BG set out to find something the color of his happiness. Along the way, he found much of his comfort, some bold color he hadn't touched yet, but bottled up all the same, more giddy, and something he was calling boredom. Boredom hadn't been very fun to touch, but there was an awful lot of it wherever BG was.
By the time BG stopped walking (he had bumped into another skeleton!) he had several vials held precariously in one hand. And it was just his luck! BG had bumped into his happiness!
Or something close? This color wasn't happiness, nor was it giddy. It was something different and new. Maybe it wasn't all that close to his happiness, now that Orange was thinking about it.
"you okay there, buddy?"
Orange stared at the taller skeleton in front of him.
"Who are you?" Orange asked. The taller skeleton, wrapped up in the color Orange couldn't name yet, laughed.
"i'm papyrus. you know, you look an awful lot like my bro. and there aren't very many skeletons down here. say- what's your name?" Orange stared for a long, considering moment.
"I'm Orange! At least, right now. I was Blue-Green earlier, and Blue before that, and Green before that. I was Brown a long time ago, and Yellow even longer ago." He admitted to the many names he carried. Papyrus whistled, impressed.
"that's an awful lot of names you've got. do you like honey? i was just about to pick some up."
"I've never had honey."
"boy are you in for a treat then." Papyrus wrapped an arm around Orange's shoulder and guided him through the colorful place. They passed a few shops before walking into one. It was filled with a lot of a new color! Orange touched the walls and felt-
Not very Orange anymore, that was for sure. Purple, for that had to be his newest name, felt lost. He wanted to shrink in on himself and disappear. The only thing that kept him from turning around and leaving the shop was Papyrus's arm around him. The lingering not-happiness color of his touch was grounding.
Purple let Papyrus drag him around to buy honey, and then followed the taller skeleton out, once their mission was complete. Purple was still feeling lost down to the very deepest parts of him, and clung to Papyrus, hoping the jacket the other wore could chase away the color of loss.
It didn't, and Purple was left feeling this way. He sighed and continued trudging through the white slushy stuff that coated the ground here. It was very unlike the white of the place Purple had been before, and that might have been more comforting if Purple knew anything else about this place. At least the white void was familiar...
Papyrus and Purple soon approached a house. It was the same color as Purple's content. Papyrus nudged purple into the house, where a warm, comforting smell filled the air.
"hey bro. i'm home. we've got company," Papyrus called out. A skeleton, who looked remarkably similar to Purple and was wearing the color of sadness, peeked his skull around the corner.
"PAPY! YOU'RE BACK! WITH... COMPANY?" Purple waved. The other skeleton bounded up to Purple and held out a hand. "NICE TO MEET YOU! I'M SANS! WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"
"I'm Purple. But I was Orange before that. And then- well. I have an awful lot of names, I think." Purple admitted, looking down at his feet. Sans considered the shorter skeleton for a moment.
"WOWIE! I DON'T THINK I'VE MET SOMEONE WITH SO MANY NAMES BEFORE! IS THERE ONE YOU LIKE MORE THAN THE OTHERS?"
"I like Yellow. But that was my name a long time ago. I don't think I want to keep changing names." Sans looked at Purple for a very long time. Purple started fidgeting under his gaze.
"WHAT ABOUT THE NAME INK? SINCE YOU HAVE A LITTLE INK BLOT ON YOUR CHEEK?" Purple blinked once. Twice.
"Ink... I- I think that's okay." Purple- or rather, Ink, responded.
It was nice, living with the brothers. Ink had never felt so normal in his life! He spent his days helping Sans run errands, his nights helping Papyrus do... Whatever it was Papyrus was doing. The taller skeleton never told him what he was helping with, and his free time. And in his free time, Ink painted! He used his little brush to make all manners of things! He expanded his wardrobe, first making a blue hoodie to tie around his waist and chunky shoes to wear, before he decided he didn't like the outfit at all. Ink redid all his clothes, except for the scarf, and chose to go barefoot, much to Sans's complaining. After the change of outfit, Ink returned to making animals, plants, and all sorts of fun trinkets! He learned he could make food, but it always tasted like paint. To be fair, anything Ink ate tasted like paint. It helped when Sans burned food or Papyrus gave him a bottle of honey.
Ink had never felt so happy! He started painting with Broomie again, and now that he could use more colors, the sky was the limit!
Until one day, the limit went even further. Ink had decided to paint the dull, boredom colored walls of the Underground. It went well for about all of three seconds. The paint was black, and Ink reached out to touch it. It was a bad habit, he knew, but there was never any harm other than the smudges on his hands!
Or, not usually. Ink fell through the paint and tumbled out onto the ground of a rather desolate looking place. Any plant life was withered and decayed, houses were destroyed and the ground was dry and cracking. The sky, which Ink had only heard stories of, was gray and cloudy. A chilly breeze blew past, and Ink tugged his scarf tighter around his neck. Something was seriously wrong here, but Ink had no idea what.
Ink walked, alone and rather scared, through the wasteland that he found himself in. While he walked, Ink re-secured Broomie to its usual place on his back. He walked and walked and walked. Past the broken down houses, past charred bits of ground, past dead farmland and bones. Ink knew that humans and many other Surface dwelling creatures didn't turn to dust when they died, but it was interesting to see. Unlike monsters, anything on the Surface actually left something behind.
Eventually, Ink came to a hill. Atop it was a tree stump. The rest of the tree was gone, but it looked like it had been cut down rather cleanly. Which was strange, given that the stump was incredibly thick. Ink walked around the stump, inspecting it and not watching where he was walking. Yet another bad habit. Ink had a lot of bad habits, like bumping into people.
Or rather, in this case, a statue. The statue portrayed a skeleton, smaller than even Ink, wrapped up in a cape, a crown-y thing on their head, and their arm outstretched, maybe reaching for something? The fingers, though covered in gloves, appeared to be spread out to block something though. Ink couldn't tell for sure. He brushed his hand over the statue's much smaller one. It reminded him of the little kids who played in Snowdin, and Ink had to wonder why this statue was made at all.
All of a sudden, a sharp gasp of breath rang through the previously quiet air. Ink turned and saw that the statue was no longer a statue at all. Instead, a young skeleton, eye lights in terrified golden ovals, was standing there. They pulled their hand away from Ink's and tugged their cape around themself.
"What- what happened? Where is- Who are you?" The little skeleton asked. Ink looked at them for a very long moment. Statues did not usually turn into people. Then again, paint did not usually turn into butterflies. Ink kneeled down (and wasn't it cool that he found someone short enough to do that to!) and looked the little skeleton over.
"I'm Ink! What's your name?" The skeleton looked around with wild eyes, before they felt it safe enough to speak.
"I'm Dream, my brother, he- something bad happened, I need to find him!" Dream squeaked out. "Please, Mister Ink, I- I- I-" Tears welled up in the corner of Dream's eye sockets, a faint, shimmery gold tint to them.
"No, no, please don't cry! We'll find your brother, I promise you!" Dream hugged Ink suddenly, sobs wracking his tiny body.
"Oh, Mister Ink, we have to find him! N-nightmare's in trouble, I know it!" Ink tried his best to comfort the child, but Ink was still uncertain how to react to his own emotions, much less the emotions of others. He settled for patting Dream gently on the head.
"It'll be okay. I can take you back to where I'm staying, is that alright?" Sans was better at dealing with other people's emotions anyway. Dream nodded into Ink's shirt, his tiny hands clutching the fabric tightly. "Can I pick you up?" Dream nodded again, and Ink very gently scooped the distraught child into his arms. Dream was concerningly light, but he was also a skeleton, that tended to be par for the course. Ink would have to ask about it. Anyway, Dream's weight meant that Ink was easily able to hold him in one hand, and pull out Broomie in the other. Seeing as the larger brush was the reason Ink wound up with Sans and Papyrus, as well as here, it must be the way back! Ink thought very hard about home with the brothers as he painted a stain of black onto the already tarnished land of wherever this was. Dream sniffled miserably at the sight.
Ink took one step into the spot and was suddenly back in the familiar Underground. Dream was still in his arms, eye lights darting around wildly, taking in the sights.
"Where are we, Mister Ink?" Dream asked, voice still sounding very sad, but clearly, the unfamiliarity of the situation was helping.
"The Underground! Snowdin Town, to be exact! I have some friends here who can help you!"
"They can find Nightmare?" Dream looked at Ink with the most hopeful eyes.
"Uh- Yeah! I'm sure they can!" Ink started walking back to the house. It was rather short, and Ink took note that the paint travel did not send him back through the same smudge he fell into. It was something to remember for later. Ink pulled his scarf over his shoulder with one hand, before just leaving it there, scribbling the note down with his smaller brush. It was harder than he thought it would be, doing it with only one hand.
Once back at the brothers' house, Ink set Dream down, where the little skeleton sat of the fluffy carpet of the house, slipping off his gloves and running his fingers through it. Dream giggled at the sensation, before flopping fully on the carpet. Ink used this as the perfect opportunity to find Sans.
"Hey Sansssss?" Ink said, peeking his head into the kitchen.
"YES, INK?" Sans asked, turning away from whatever he was doing to focus on the shorter skeleton.
"We may have one, very teensy tiny, minor, itty bitty problem." Sans narrowed his eyes.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Sans asked rather calmly for someone who knew Ink and just heard what he said.
"I just touched a statue and it turned into a little kid! It's not my fault, I promise!"
"WHAT!?" Sans screeched before running out of the room and, presumably, bumping into Dream. Ink breathed out a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn't have to deal with a crying child anymore!
Because of course I top my word count record when I write for the UTMV. I don't know if I should be ashamed or not...
Sans woke up. Whatever he expected when he opened his eyes was- not this. He maybe expected to wake up in his colorless bed, still feeling lonely and miserable because no one else could feel things like he did. But waking up, Sans did not see his bed, his brother, or anything else. He also couldn't feel. That wasn't nearly as concerning to his as it ought to have been, but that could probably be attributed to the fact that he wasn't feeling much of anything at all. Sans was just sitting, unfeeling, uncaring, in a blank expanse. Nothing at all. Pure white as far as the eye could see.Fandom: Undertale/Undertale Multiverse
Word Prompt(s): Ink
A quick explanation: As an ex-avid writer for the UTMV, I thought this NaNo would be a good time to come back to my roots! So this and my next little one-shot are dedicated to that. Ink used to be my favorite Sans before I learned too much about him or the rest of them. So, in honor of me who knows how many years ago: Sympathetic Ink, because that's what he deserves anyway. I wanted to write a full thing from my own Ink headcanons, starting from the very beginning, but I don't actually think I can write about what happened in his AU on this site. It's the same as canon anyway, so I'll start when he gets out to keep the rating. (For the timeline, I'm going about from Ink getting out of his AU to all the way when he finds Dream. I considered going as far as Cross, but that seems like a lot.)
It didn't bother him at all. Sans likely couldn't be bothered. After all, he didn't have emotions anymore.
Time passed and Sans just stayed there, sitting in the void. He slowly began to forget. Sans didn't know where he came from, if he came from anywhere, or if he had simply been here his whole life. Sans didn't remember anyone, he knew himself, he knew the void. It wasn't long before he forgot his own name.
And that was how it was for some unknown amount of time.
The void was lonely, but the skeleton trapped there wouldn't know it. The void was empty, but empty was familiar. The void was-
Color.
The small skeleton leapt up as a glob of paint dripped onto him. It coated his whole body, thick and gloopy and messy. It seeped between his bones, and before he knew it, a joyful laugh bubbled up inside! The skeleton whooped and ran around, happiness filling his soul so completely! The skeleton couldn't remember feeling like this before, it was wonderful! The skeleton, Yellow, danced around, taking in the color where he could. Yellow had never felt like this before, and he would cherish this feeling forever!
So Yellow spend the day dancing and playing, having forgotten all about how emotionless he had been only moments before. Because the color filled his world with so much! Yellow didn't feel lonely because the paint didn't let him feel lonely! Yellow's world was two colors, the yellow of the paint, and the white that was already shrinking away under the paint's advances.
Happy tears pricked at the corner of Yellow's eye sockets. He loved this! And he never wanted this feeling to end. Yellow wanted to feel this happy forever! He might not remember the blankness he felt when it was just him and the void, but he didn't want to think about life without the paint.
And then, Yellow began to wonder, if the paint could make him this happy, could it do anything else? Yellow took some of the paint on his finger and smudged the floor of the void with a simple doodle of a butterfly. Yellow wasn't actually sure what a butterfly was, but the shape seemed right. And it must have been right! Because not a moment later, a butterfly, the same color as Yellow's happiness, fluttered off of the ground, leaving a spot of void where the drawing had been. And Yellow found the power the paint held.
All this time, Yellow hadn't actually been wearing anything. He hadn't minded before, because he hadn't been Yellow. But now he was, and bare bones did not make for a very warm skeleton. Yellow started off simple, painting a strip of fabric, and pulling it free from the ground he painted it on. It was a scarf, warm and colorful, though its color melted from the same as the paint, as Yellow's happiness, so something darker, warmer. Yellow didn't have a name for this color yet, but he wrapped the scarf around his neck and was content and warm.
Yellow made more clothes, a shirt, some fingerless gloves, shorts. All were the same color as his happiness and didn't change like his scarf. And Yellow was very happy.
Until the color faded away. Yellow- no- the name was slipping away from him almost as fast as the paint had. The skeleton slumped to the floor of the void again, not feeling, not remembering, just empty.
And so he remained again.
And then he wasn't! A new splash of paint colored the skeleton's world! This skeleton couldn't remember the wonderful feelings the paint brought him last time, but Brown, for that must have been his name, felt content. It was a warm, easy emotion. It didn't make him bounce around, but it made him hum a happy tune, made him skip to and fro. It was a very nice paint, Brown thought, as most of his clothing was the same color as contentedness, as belonging. Brown quite liked his scarf the most, though. It was warm, just like Brown's content, and fit around him so snuggly. The rest of Brown's clothes fell into different shades of the paint, but the same color nonetheless.
Now, Brown couldn't remember the power the paint held, how it brought a butterfly to life, or how it manifested his clothing from nothing but color. But Brown reached out, and he started shaping something. It was long, taller than Brown, probably, and had a furry, bristly bit at the end. It was a bit big, but Brown liked it, so he made a smaller one. A paintbrush. So he could move the color around easier, make things with it without having to use his fingers.
Brown took the little brush and made another butterfly, it fluttered away and into the void. Then, he made a mouse, it squeaked in his palm. Brown made so many things with his little brush, birds, bats, mud. It was wonderful! Brown felt very content, for this color was Brown's content, it only made sense, after all. Brown used his bigger brush to make bigger things. He made a moose, he made a big, fluffy blanket, he started on something he called a "tree." But it was missing something. Maybe it was a dead tree?
And so Brown lived happily. The color of his content painted the floor of the void, and Brown couldn't feel alone still, but he could feel content.
Until he couldn't. And the cycle repeated itself again.
This new paint felt familiar! It wasn't the color of Green's happiness, no, but it felt like it! It felt like giddy, childlike wonder, and for the first time, Green could remember that he wasn't always like this. He couldn't feel sad about the loss of his happiness, or of his content, but he could try and change something. Green took his smaller brush and used it to make a container for the color. It was a thin vial, and Green almost considered making something bigger, but he didn't really want to make another thing to hold color. It was glass and had a slight tint, the color of Green's... hmm. Green was going to call this color "giddy." Happy and giddy were very similar colors. So the glass vial was tinted the color of giddy, and Green scooped some of the paint inside. That way, he could have more whenever this ran out!
And run out it did. The skeleton returned to the same blank nothing as always, a small vial of color in his hand. He looked at it for a long, considering moment. The skeleton popped the heart shaped glass cork off, and gulped down every last drop of saved giddy.
Green immediately knew he messed up when he saw the empty vial. He didn't know how long his color would last, and he had no idea how to find more. Green found the discarded cork and reunited it with the vial. He looked out over the nothing where he lived. It was weird, seeing it without the splashes of color. Green took out his larger brush, affectionately named Broomie, and started walking, the brush leaving behind a trail of black. It took a bit for Green to notice, but when he did, he whirled around and looked at the trail. It seemingly disappeared as he walked, with the beginning entirely gone. Green looked in consideration for a moment, before making a black circle around himself with Broomie.
And he promptly fell through the floor.
Green landed on cold, wet, white ground with a soft "oof!" He pulled himself off of the ground and looked around. And there was so. Much. Color. Everywhere Green looked there was something else! He could recognize the color of his content, of his happiness, of his giddiness! And- and more! Green didn't have a name for these colors, because he didn't know how they felt, but- what if he could?
Green reached out to touch this random lamp lying nearby and-
Oh. That wasn't a very nice color. Green- No, that couldn't be it, he didn't feel very Green. No, he felt rather Blue, actually. Blue sniffled sadly. No, sad wasn't a very nice color at all. Blue pressed his little paintbrush to the lamp, hoping to paint it a happier color. Instead, when Blue pulled the brush away, the sadness came with it. Blue stared for a long moment, and he could feel giddy lingering in a corner of his mind
Feeling a bit of both, Blue- or maybe Green? Made another vial out of Blue's sadness. He filled it with the color he drew from the lamp, careful to not let any splash on him. Color was color, was it not? And sadness was the same color as the sea! As the waves and the sky, of this strange lamp.
But BG could pull colors out of things! He could find his happiness again! BG set out to find something the color of his happiness. Along the way, he found much of his comfort, some bold color he hadn't touched yet, but bottled up all the same, more giddy, and something he was calling boredom. Boredom hadn't been very fun to touch, but there was an awful lot of it wherever BG was.
By the time BG stopped walking (he had bumped into another skeleton!) he had several vials held precariously in one hand. And it was just his luck! BG had bumped into his happiness!
Or something close? This color wasn't happiness, nor was it giddy. It was something different and new. Maybe it wasn't all that close to his happiness, now that Orange was thinking about it.
"you okay there, buddy?"
Orange stared at the taller skeleton in front of him.
"Who are you?" Orange asked. The taller skeleton, wrapped up in the color Orange couldn't name yet, laughed.
"i'm papyrus. you know, you look an awful lot like my bro. and there aren't very many skeletons down here. say- what's your name?" Orange stared for a long, considering moment.
"I'm Orange! At least, right now. I was Blue-Green earlier, and Blue before that, and Green before that. I was Brown a long time ago, and Yellow even longer ago." He admitted to the many names he carried. Papyrus whistled, impressed.
"that's an awful lot of names you've got. do you like honey? i was just about to pick some up."
"I've never had honey."
"boy are you in for a treat then." Papyrus wrapped an arm around Orange's shoulder and guided him through the colorful place. They passed a few shops before walking into one. It was filled with a lot of a new color! Orange touched the walls and felt-
Not very Orange anymore, that was for sure. Purple, for that had to be his newest name, felt lost. He wanted to shrink in on himself and disappear. The only thing that kept him from turning around and leaving the shop was Papyrus's arm around him. The lingering not-happiness color of his touch was grounding.
Purple let Papyrus drag him around to buy honey, and then followed the taller skeleton out, once their mission was complete. Purple was still feeling lost down to the very deepest parts of him, and clung to Papyrus, hoping the jacket the other wore could chase away the color of loss.
It didn't, and Purple was left feeling this way. He sighed and continued trudging through the white slushy stuff that coated the ground here. It was very unlike the white of the place Purple had been before, and that might have been more comforting if Purple knew anything else about this place. At least the white void was familiar...
Papyrus and Purple soon approached a house. It was the same color as Purple's content. Papyrus nudged purple into the house, where a warm, comforting smell filled the air.
"hey bro. i'm home. we've got company," Papyrus called out. A skeleton, who looked remarkably similar to Purple and was wearing the color of sadness, peeked his skull around the corner.
"PAPY! YOU'RE BACK! WITH... COMPANY?" Purple waved. The other skeleton bounded up to Purple and held out a hand. "NICE TO MEET YOU! I'M SANS! WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"
"I'm Purple. But I was Orange before that. And then- well. I have an awful lot of names, I think." Purple admitted, looking down at his feet. Sans considered the shorter skeleton for a moment.
"WOWIE! I DON'T THINK I'VE MET SOMEONE WITH SO MANY NAMES BEFORE! IS THERE ONE YOU LIKE MORE THAN THE OTHERS?"
"I like Yellow. But that was my name a long time ago. I don't think I want to keep changing names." Sans looked at Purple for a very long time. Purple started fidgeting under his gaze.
"WHAT ABOUT THE NAME INK? SINCE YOU HAVE A LITTLE INK BLOT ON YOUR CHEEK?" Purple blinked once. Twice.
"Ink... I- I think that's okay." Purple- or rather, Ink, responded.
And so Ink moved in with Sans and Papyrus. It was nice, he was far away from the white void, and had plenty of access to all his colors! Sans started helping him learn how to balance the colors too! Once it was clear how each color affected Ink, the skelebros started noting how to make sure Ink could feel as normal as possible! As it turned out, the reason each color felt so much was because they were supposed to work with others. This was also when Ink learned that the names he got from each color were the colors' actual names. He didn't stop calling them by the emotions they gave him in his head, though.
It was nice, living with the brothers. Ink had never felt so normal in his life! He spent his days helping Sans run errands, his nights helping Papyrus do... Whatever it was Papyrus was doing. The taller skeleton never told him what he was helping with, and his free time. And in his free time, Ink painted! He used his little brush to make all manners of things! He expanded his wardrobe, first making a blue hoodie to tie around his waist and chunky shoes to wear, before he decided he didn't like the outfit at all. Ink redid all his clothes, except for the scarf, and chose to go barefoot, much to Sans's complaining. After the change of outfit, Ink returned to making animals, plants, and all sorts of fun trinkets! He learned he could make food, but it always tasted like paint. To be fair, anything Ink ate tasted like paint. It helped when Sans burned food or Papyrus gave him a bottle of honey.
Ink had never felt so happy! He started painting with Broomie again, and now that he could use more colors, the sky was the limit!
Until one day, the limit went even further. Ink had decided to paint the dull, boredom colored walls of the Underground. It went well for about all of three seconds. The paint was black, and Ink reached out to touch it. It was a bad habit, he knew, but there was never any harm other than the smudges on his hands!
Or, not usually. Ink fell through the paint and tumbled out onto the ground of a rather desolate looking place. Any plant life was withered and decayed, houses were destroyed and the ground was dry and cracking. The sky, which Ink had only heard stories of, was gray and cloudy. A chilly breeze blew past, and Ink tugged his scarf tighter around his neck. Something was seriously wrong here, but Ink had no idea what.
Ink walked, alone and rather scared, through the wasteland that he found himself in. While he walked, Ink re-secured Broomie to its usual place on his back. He walked and walked and walked. Past the broken down houses, past charred bits of ground, past dead farmland and bones. Ink knew that humans and many other Surface dwelling creatures didn't turn to dust when they died, but it was interesting to see. Unlike monsters, anything on the Surface actually left something behind.
Eventually, Ink came to a hill. Atop it was a tree stump. The rest of the tree was gone, but it looked like it had been cut down rather cleanly. Which was strange, given that the stump was incredibly thick. Ink walked around the stump, inspecting it and not watching where he was walking. Yet another bad habit. Ink had a lot of bad habits, like bumping into people.
Or rather, in this case, a statue. The statue portrayed a skeleton, smaller than even Ink, wrapped up in a cape, a crown-y thing on their head, and their arm outstretched, maybe reaching for something? The fingers, though covered in gloves, appeared to be spread out to block something though. Ink couldn't tell for sure. He brushed his hand over the statue's much smaller one. It reminded him of the little kids who played in Snowdin, and Ink had to wonder why this statue was made at all.
All of a sudden, a sharp gasp of breath rang through the previously quiet air. Ink turned and saw that the statue was no longer a statue at all. Instead, a young skeleton, eye lights in terrified golden ovals, was standing there. They pulled their hand away from Ink's and tugged their cape around themself.
"What- what happened? Where is- Who are you?" The little skeleton asked. Ink looked at them for a very long moment. Statues did not usually turn into people. Then again, paint did not usually turn into butterflies. Ink kneeled down (and wasn't it cool that he found someone short enough to do that to!) and looked the little skeleton over.
"I'm Ink! What's your name?" The skeleton looked around with wild eyes, before they felt it safe enough to speak.
"I'm Dream, my brother, he- something bad happened, I need to find him!" Dream squeaked out. "Please, Mister Ink, I- I- I-" Tears welled up in the corner of Dream's eye sockets, a faint, shimmery gold tint to them.
"No, no, please don't cry! We'll find your brother, I promise you!" Dream hugged Ink suddenly, sobs wracking his tiny body.
"Oh, Mister Ink, we have to find him! N-nightmare's in trouble, I know it!" Ink tried his best to comfort the child, but Ink was still uncertain how to react to his own emotions, much less the emotions of others. He settled for patting Dream gently on the head.
"It'll be okay. I can take you back to where I'm staying, is that alright?" Sans was better at dealing with other people's emotions anyway. Dream nodded into Ink's shirt, his tiny hands clutching the fabric tightly. "Can I pick you up?" Dream nodded again, and Ink very gently scooped the distraught child into his arms. Dream was concerningly light, but he was also a skeleton, that tended to be par for the course. Ink would have to ask about it. Anyway, Dream's weight meant that Ink was easily able to hold him in one hand, and pull out Broomie in the other. Seeing as the larger brush was the reason Ink wound up with Sans and Papyrus, as well as here, it must be the way back! Ink thought very hard about home with the brothers as he painted a stain of black onto the already tarnished land of wherever this was. Dream sniffled miserably at the sight.
Ink took one step into the spot and was suddenly back in the familiar Underground. Dream was still in his arms, eye lights darting around wildly, taking in the sights.
"Where are we, Mister Ink?" Dream asked, voice still sounding very sad, but clearly, the unfamiliarity of the situation was helping.
"The Underground! Snowdin Town, to be exact! I have some friends here who can help you!"
"They can find Nightmare?" Dream looked at Ink with the most hopeful eyes.
"Uh- Yeah! I'm sure they can!" Ink started walking back to the house. It was rather short, and Ink took note that the paint travel did not send him back through the same smudge he fell into. It was something to remember for later. Ink pulled his scarf over his shoulder with one hand, before just leaving it there, scribbling the note down with his smaller brush. It was harder than he thought it would be, doing it with only one hand.
Once back at the brothers' house, Ink set Dream down, where the little skeleton sat of the fluffy carpet of the house, slipping off his gloves and running his fingers through it. Dream giggled at the sensation, before flopping fully on the carpet. Ink used this as the perfect opportunity to find Sans.
"Hey Sansssss?" Ink said, peeking his head into the kitchen.
"YES, INK?" Sans asked, turning away from whatever he was doing to focus on the shorter skeleton.
"We may have one, very teensy tiny, minor, itty bitty problem." Sans narrowed his eyes.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Sans asked rather calmly for someone who knew Ink and just heard what he said.
"I just touched a statue and it turned into a little kid! It's not my fault, I promise!"
"WHAT!?" Sans screeched before running out of the room and, presumably, bumping into Dream. Ink breathed out a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn't have to deal with a crying child anymore!
WC: 3,703Colors and their corresponding emotions:
Yellow = Happiness
Brown = Content/Belonging
Green = Giddy/Childishness
Forest Green = Curiosity
Orange = Mischief
Pink = Love (Familial/Platonic/Romantic)
Purple = Loneliness/Loss
Lavender = Tired
Cyan = Fear
Red = Anger/Hatred
Blue = Sadness
Royal Blue = Despair
Sky Blue = Longing
Gray = Boredom
White = Blank/Nothing/Void
Black = Ink.In general, if a color is darker, the emotion tends to be stronger, and if it is lighter, it tends to be weaker. However, certain colors have different shades that might do something different altogether. For example, gray, black, and white share no similarities. Black is simply the signature color for Ink, while white resets his emotions. But if he gets a hold of gray, a mix of the two, he just feels bored.
Certain colors correspond to other Sanses, but that's not always the case. Purple and its shades pertain to Passive Nightmare (and Cross,) whereas cyan is corrupted Nightmare. Yellow is Dream, orange is Shattered Dream. Brown can be seen as Ccino, but it's also the color Ink took for himself. Royal blue could be seen as Classic, but that wasn't the original intention. Oh, yes, and Error and Ink are white and black respectively, with Ink being the everything color, and Error being the nothing color.
In other notes: It takes a while before the Stars figure out exactly what's up with Ink's abilities. Also! Swap!Paps is the one to figure out the "they're all different versions of the same person" thing. Sans takes the name Blue, and Ink helps other Sanses find their names later down the line.
Because of course I top my word count record when I write for the UTMV. I don't know if I should be ashamed or not...
"The only thing stopping me from having a dragon living in my backyard is the law. Absolutely nothing else."