the history of magic meme

[1castle4houses]

welcome to AU hell

RULES;

1. tag in
2. tag around!
3. mix and match - pick a setting from the first column and an AU from the second column (or use RNG if you like to live on edge -- there's 10 prompts per column)
4. have fun

HINTS;

We welcome and encourage all OCs. Add a little blurb about your character so other players have an idea what to play with, and feel free to add your preferences and permissions.
Ship, don't ship; make out, don't make out - all is fair game.

PROMPTS;

Setting	AU
1. Ancient	a. Soldiers on the same side
2. Middle Ages	b. Arranged marriage
3. 1600s	c. Great new discovery
4. 1700s	d. Childhood friends
5. 1800s	e. Met on the road
6. 1900s	f. Rags and riches
7. Roaring 20s	g. Members of two feuding houses
8. 1940s	h. It's all about the art
9. 1970s	i. Co-conspirators
10. WILDCARD	j. WILDCARD

Comments

Neville Longbottom

[plantdad]

[My body is ready]

1800s, rags & riches

[reparo]

The existence of magic does not, as Hermione had once upon a time hoped, eliminate the class problem.

Hermione Granger grows up part of the local gentry in Islington. Her father and mother meet during the war, serving as doctor and nurse on the same side, and because they are on the winning side, when her father is honourably discharged, he marries Helen Smith and builds a modest but comfortable abode in Islington. Hermione Granger does not grow up filthy rich, by any means, unless you count her parents' passion for reading that the instill in their only daughter, and their wealthy book collection that no local doctor should afford to have. Hermione Granger grows up with delusions of grandeur, precisely because her parents never teach her that she shouldn't: she wants to go to university (Cambridge, of course) and to become a doctor (the first female one in the country if possible); she has no talent for embroidery and piano playing, despite the many lessons she receives, and she is not spoilt enough to think that all her problems will be fixed by getting married.

Finding out that she is a witch is the turning point in Hermione's life, in a way. She is whisked off to a magical school, where she can learn to control her powers so they do not harm her loved ones, and she attends it believing that she will find a new world to belong in. She is somwhat wrong.

In the wizarding world, it turns out, there is one more category that creates a separation between class: blood. People like Hermione - born and raised by Muggles, not surrounded by magic - are low class citizens, treated mostly like children in some ways. Poor muggleborns, they don't know about this ritual, they never read this children's book, they don't understand the marriage rules! It's eminently frustrating, for her entire life at Hogwarts, to be condescended to despite performing well in class. To be questioned for being better than those older families at magic, when all their propaganda says that muggleborns are dumb and weak.

When, after finishing her fifth and final year, she is shown the door, Hermione does not feel any closer to belonging in the wizarding world than she did in the muggle one.

Nothing short of a miracle rescues her from returning to her parents' home to become a solitary, reclusive spinster; Lady Alice Longbottom requiring an educated young lady to take notes during her literary salons. Hermione has no idea how she ends up employed by Lady Longbottom - could it be that her son mentioned her, from when they were in Hogwarts together? could it be that maybe Professor McGonagall had recommended Hermione to the Dowager Longbottom? - but regardless of that mystery, she has been in their employ for over a year now.

It shouldn't come as a suprise when, upon entering the reading room on Monday morning, she finds Neville sitting in her favourite armchair, reading a book on magical plant care that Hermione found last winter in Paris. After all, Hogwarts is finally over, and by her calculations Neville will have finished it. Sure, there is that initial bitterness, over how purebloods are allowed to further their education for an additional two years, whereas muggleborns are expected to sod off on five years of condescension alone. But it is also Neville, who was a friend to her for those five years, and she's not been able to write to him (having no owl of her own) before to let him know.

(Though maybe his mother did inform him. Or maybe he knew.)

"Ah, the prodigal son is finally home, I see," she says by way of greeting, with a cheekier grin than she would've afforded around any of their other classmates.

[plantdad]

He shoots up to his feet the moment Hermione speaks, and honestly, he should have known this would happen.

His mother told him that she hired Hermione, of course, and it's not like Neville wasn't there to suggest to her that she should in the first place. It would be a crying shame, they both said, for someone as bright and skilled as Miss Granger to have to go back to the muggle world. It's atrocious enough that she can't take advanced classes, but of course she can't. It would make old blood idiots uncomfortable to see how much smarter than them she is.

So while he knew very well to expect her here, he didn't quite appreciate how much of an effect it would have on him to see her again.

She looks at home here. She looks like she is bright, and sharp, and full of energy, and all serves as a very vivid reminder of exactly why he's been in love with her since he was fifteen. Only a fool wouldn't love her, really.

"Miss Granger!" he greets her, too shy to use her first name, like he used to in school. "How have you been?"

Viktor Krum

[bulgarian_bonbon]

[Very much voice testing, but let's see what happens.]

1940s, childhood friends (tw for grim shit)

[reparo]

The Minister signed off the peace treaty just over a week ago, but despite popular expectation, peace has not been an instantaneous thing. Aurors and Hit Wizard squadrons are being brought back from the continent daily, while the newspapers report on the battle between Grindelwald and Dumbledore from every possible angle. Given any other context, and with more time on her hands, Hermione Granger would be glued to the news.

Peace doesn't stop people from being wounded, however, so her days are exactly the same as they have been for the past three years since joining the Order, fresh out of Hogwarts: filled with hard, exhausting work. Since about a year ago, when a stray Crucio nearly sent her into a very early grave, she has been working in St Mungo's with the wounded who are recovered from the battlefield.

Today is the first day in so very, very many that she has come on shift to the sound of laughter. A glance at her coworker later, and the young woman informs her that a few former Quidditch stars turned soldiers have been brought in for physical rehabilitation, and that the young lads haven't been shy of entertaining the convalescent with some old stories.

Her heart jumps to her throat when she hears a familiar, long-unheard booming laugh, and before her coworker can finish counting which stars are in ward, she's pushed through the double doors and rushed in - only to stop half-way into the grand room, a laugh of pure relief escaping her and startling a few of her patients.

She knew she recognised it. Him. "Viktor!"

[bulgarian_bonbon]

One thing was for sure: Viktor feels damn stupid for managing to get injured right at the end of the war.

It wasn't even a proper battle, because he survived those just fine. No. Instead, he was rounding up some diehard Grindelwald supporters who decided to bunker down in the mountains, got hit with a stray curse, and fell off his broom like a complete idiot, because apparently this war has taught him to not always expect a bludger when he is up in the air.

Because it happened so late after the last battle, and hospital in Sofia was already filled to the brim, Viktor and a few others who were well enough to travel were put on the first available Portkey to London, which he honestly didn't mind. Unlike a lot of the other soldiers, he speaks decent English thanks to his Quidditch career, so it's only fair. He'll be able to talk to the doctors here, almost as well as at home.

He is in the middle of getting to know his new hospital roommates when he hears a familiar voice, and that's when he realizes that being sent to London for treatment is even better than he'd thought.

"Hermione!" he lets out, enthusiastic. "I didn't know you work here. Lads, we're so lucky. We have the best doctor."

Hermione Granger

[reparo]

[Available in soft mode (write the worldbuilding through first meetings) and hard mode (worldbuild but they already know each other).]

Fleur Delacour

[beaubaton]

[Very interesting in writing about: international magickery in a different time, Veelas' rights back in the days and how it impacts Fleur, and costume porn.]

lily evans

[lancifolium]

[ let's. do. it. available as an adult or a student. ]

1600s parenting, apparently?

[baby_deer]

That last session of Wizengamot was exhausting, and Harry knows very well that, as much as he hates it, he can't really solve this one on his own.

As a representative of one of the oldest wizard families in England, but also a proudly half-blood wizard, he's been in the limelight for the last two years, trying to push against a law that would limit the rights of muggle-borns even further. It's obscenely far-reaching, including marriage, and holding office, and even education. Harry has been trying to fight it relentlessly, but despite the fact that he almost punched more than one of his opponents in the face here and there, he hasn't moved very far. Harry might be great at acting, and working, and building, but he's not so amazing at talking.

All he has to say for himself, as he makes his way to Godric's Hollow, is that he hasn't failed yet. And that doesn't feel particularly uplifting. He knows, as much as he hates to admit, that he can't do this one on his own - and there is only one person he can trust now. Isn't this why he made it all the way here, instead of staying the night in his London house?

As he expected, he finds his mother in the garden, examining the plot where she grows her potions ingredients. He doesn't understand enough about the recipes she brews to be able to tell how well the garden is doing, but some of the green shoots look very impressive.

"Hello, mother!" he calls out from the path, since she has her back to him. "Can I interrupt you?"

heck yes

[lancifolium]

With her hands on her knees, bent and peering into the blossoms of her Aconite Lily was frowning pensively when her son spoke up from behind her. "Far more easily and gladly met than most, I venture." Righting herself she turned to face Harry while dusting her hands off. "Something troubles you," she looked him over for a long moment before turning, waving a hand at him before heading towards her modest, but stalwart little house.

Drawing her wand as she stepped inside she had the kettle over a fire with a wordless, almost absent-minded motion, a log tossing itself onto the fire with another, more commanding sort of swish. Lily had always been fascinated by the spells her teachers had managed to execute without so much as a word,

“Are you eating enough?” Again Harry was given another look over, his mother thoughtful and never lacking in that parental concern that seemed to radiate from every glance and tilt of her head.

Even if he had been eating enough, Lily wouldn’t have believed it, and that much was plain to see as she crossed towards the hearth to get a bowl of the pottage that had been simmering over the embers endlessly ready for him.

“So, eat and talk my darling. Tell me everything.” She set the bowl on the table, regarding him with an almost business-like nod of her head before Lily’s focus turned towards the kettle she’d readied, eager to have a cup of tea to accompany whatever her son had to tell her.

aldric emberford (oc)

[slytherout]

[ slytherin oc, info in the journal is under construction, feel free to hit me up with any questions about him in the meantime. ]

roaring 20s, all about the art

[brobeforehos]

The thing that pleases her the most about this whole outcome in life is that she is absolutely certain that her father, if he ever caught wind of this, will be completely and utterly outraged to hear that she's the owner of the hottest speakeasy this side of England.

Not that rubbing it in to dear old dad is why she did it in the first place. It was more that she had money from her mother's side of the family, and connections from school, and gods do the wizards love paying a fortune for muggle booze.

Devil Came Knocking opened a mere month ago, and already they've spread through word of mouth, to the point where Mae has started to notice even the more reclusive and eccentric of her former classmates pop by. It helps that there is no prohibition this side of the pond, nor this side of the wizarding community; the cocktails are swanky, the dresses are short and sparkly, and there's a live band every night. And at the centre of it, Mae Crawford is allowed to booze and schmooze with the best of them, red lippy on, and no inhibitions on her.

"Well, well, Mister Emberford, as I live and breathe," she toasts, as soon as Aldric even steps foot in her fine establishment, looping her arm through his as if she's forgotten all about how aloof he was in school. School is school, and they're grown up now. "Glad you could make it, what's our poison?"

chefkiss

[slytherout]

If asked he could easily fire off the names of a dozen of his old housemates from school that would bristle at the boom and jangle of alcohol-infused merriment that exuded out of every square inch of Devil Came Knocking, but Aldric felt quite differently about the gin joint. All the noise, the diversion, the drinks, provided a more than suitable distraction from things he detested - like conversation. He was good at remaining aloof, adept at providing noncommittal, ambiguous remarks about nearly every subject that might get thrown his way. He knew how to be charming, how to grin and flatter and get his way when he needed to or derail a discussion that got too close to the things he didn't want to talk about, but Merlin if he could just not have to do that, even for a night? It'd be a nice break.

And while nothing loosened a tongue up quite like a couple of stiff drinks, it also made people forgetful - and Aldric thought those odds worked well, as long as he didn't forget himself, of course.

So when the speakeasy's proprietor looped an arm through his as soon as he headed through the door and had his coat taken, he was surprised - but he still liked his odds. "That you Mae?" The accent was always a little hard to place - European boarding school with a dash of all the years stuck in the United Kingdom, tempered with the silk of being a well-bred young wizard popular in refined social circles. He always managed to sound like he knew what he was talking about, something Aldric leaned on heavily to get him through conversations tap-dancing around the topics he knew his purist friends were always keen to discuss.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" They hadn't spent that much time together in school, but he remembered her well enough for small talk. "I heard this was your party. Impressive. I bet you're raking it in." He knew half the Ministry would drink their weight in vodka if they got the chance, and they'd certainly turn a blind eye to be able to keep at it. Something he was sure Mae was relying on.

"Gin, if you please." Aldric looked out over the room before turning his attentions back to Mae, tilting his head as if to silently indicate she ought to lead on.

rowena ravenclaw

[rravenclaw]

[ not too keen about sending her somewhere modern but definitely here for all your middle ages-1800s needs ]

Ginny Weasley

[fireofheart]

[ Here for this. ]

margaery tyrell | game of thrones

[versigny]

[ quick overview:

- from a wealthy pureblood family that's known for being more open-minded than most
- slytherin; Loras, her younger brother, is gryffindor
- ambitious, clever, perceptive, affable, kind - loyalty to family first though, always.
- which is why some people might find her off-putting/difficult to trust; you can never really tell what she wants.

happy to discuss more in pms + plot beforehand! ]

Mae Crawford (obscure book series)

[brobeforehos]

[bulletpoints:

x half-blood, child of a wizard and a muggle woman; dad divorced mum and started a new & proper wizarding family, before his children came of age or showed signs of magic
x younger brother, Jamie, whom she adores and thinks the world of and would walk through fire for
x cheeky feminism, nature magic, ritual sex, let's summon demons, all that jazz
x will flirt with Death itself if it sounds like fun
x probably a Slytherpuff.

yell at Cella if you're not sure what to do.]

[metamorphical]

[I want it aaaallll.]

[timenssecundus]

[ooc: hullo…! Could I interest you in…?

The '20's calls to me… possibly their modern selves who fell on a Time Turner… or anything else? I have this age Lupin or this one ^_^

Also also, hopefully not to annoy anyone, but my kink for Tonks/Loop is to retcon what's shown in the books to make them a lot more… um… healthy/warm/equal, in my own eyes…? (Like the films do a wee bit) ]

Cleopatra Selene | The Shards of Heaven

[moontwin]

[ if anyone wants to hop over to ancient egypt, lmao. daughter of cleopatra, only her canon has magic in the form of artifacts called shards, stones that are said to be the broken pieces of the throne of god. ]

Harry Potter

[coreofaphoenix]

[Good with pretty much any of these!]

Sirius Black

[canemstellam]

[Here for ALL the AUs forever. I will just be super slow for the next couple of weeks.]

Marlene McKinnon

[flannelwitch]

[Let' get this rolling!]

1 i,c,j instead of pitching this i'm just throwing it at you

[lancifolium]

Temple virgins indeed. Lily was grateful for the small band of sisters she had found in the other girls who had been selected to serve the temple, she had not expected to be called to such a divine purpose, and while she attended to those who sought out the talents of herself and the other priestesses, she relied on the others as well. Marlene especially had become a great source of comfort and companionship for Lily, who was certain that while attachments might be frowned upon, not only within their order but for most in their position who served their respective gods, (those that catered to Bacchus played by their own rules).

More than friendship, Marlene and Lily spoke about things beyond these walls and the rites and rituals they practiced with the passing of the seasons or based on the needs of worshippers. Marlene reminded Lily that there was more than this - as honorable and good as this was - and because of that Lily often found herself all too easily dreaming about what else the empire, or even beyond it might hold.

It was because of fanciful thoughts like those that Lily urged Marlene to come to the market with her that day. Under the guise of dutifully assuming the task of fetching the essentials for her fellow sisters, she had volunteered to go to market on the day she knew a particularly splendid ship was due to arrive in the harbor, encouraging her dearest friend to come as well. After all, they were holy women and there was safety in numbers - though secretly Lily suspected playing spectator would be all the nicer in Marlene’s company.

The sky above was blue and clear and the sun was high and bright by the time they reached the part of the city that yielded its space over to the machinations of the port and the trade that kept the town going. Lily, smiling while wrapping her stola around her shoulders looked between the bustling crowds and colorful market and Marlene, the satisfied grin on her face deepening as she spoke.

“The ship ought to be here soon,” she gestured towards a space in the harbor where a substantial group of workers was already making ready for its arrival. “The man who came to the temple to have us purify his mother-in-law said it was arriving all the way from Arabia, but the cargo comes from further east than that.”

Just the thought of somewhere so far and wonderful sounding had made Lily’s voice soften dreamily as she diverted her attention back to the water as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the ship in question.