hogwartsexpressed | that's so random

Entry tags:

what: meme

that's so random

random scenario meme
comment with your character.
respond to others
rng once for type of scene, rng the second time for the setting. hardmode: give someone a starter exactly for what you rolled.

TYPES OF SCENES
① Action → Gun fights, bar brawls, fights to the death are all possible scenarios.
② Angst → Characters suffer emotionally or physically from relationships breaking up, death, injury, etc. Hurt and comfort themes are included.
③ Crack → Outrageous scenarios, stuck-in-a-closet, cursed-with-purple-hair, all the stuff out of a crack fic!
④ Fluff → Something that is devoid of angst. It's light-hearted and might have the overtone of romance.
⑤ Gen → General fun, things that didn't fit in the other categories.
⑥ Your choice → Think of your own scenario, choose one of the above or make a combo even!

ACTION.
① Threaten → You've just been sent here to rough them up a little, threaten them into behaving.
② Bar brawl → You had one too many drinks, said something wrong, and now you're being asked to take it outside.
③ Chase → You're caught in a high speed chase.
④ Fight for honour → You've been disgraced or someone you care about has, so it's time to fight for honour.
⑤ Fight with a friend → You're fighting with a friend, all out.
⑥ Interrogation → You're being interrogated for some offense you've done.
⑦ Sneaking in → You're stealing a diamond or sneaking in to kick some bad guy butt, but whatever it is, you have to practice stealth.
⑧ Final battle → This is it. The battle that will end all the fighting for you. Will you win? Will you get that peace you want?
⑨ Apocalypse → The apocalypse finally happened and now you're left to scavenge and fight for whatever is left.
⑩ No hope → You know this fight has no hope. It's not going to end well for anyone involved, but you can't turn away.

ANGST.
① Injury / illness → Your character has become injured or ill! To what extent is the mun's choice.
② Last moments → You character has been gravely injured and this is their last chance to say their last words.
③ Depression → Your character is depressed, what actions they take is up to the mun.
④ Betrayed → You character has been betrayed by the other. How do they react?
⑤ Tortured → Your character is being tortured and needs rescuing or at least a sympathetic ear to help him through it.
⑥ Jealousy → Your character is feeling jealous and must deal with it, how will they do it?
⑦ Breakup! → This relationship has gone as far as it can, it's time to breakup.
⑧ Broken → For whatever reason, the character is broken, mentally or or physically.
⑨ Fight → You can't even be in the same room as your friend or lover without arguing anymore.
⑩ Lost → You lost the biggest fight of your life and now all you can do is try to pick up the pieces.

CRACK.
① Suddenly naked → Oops! Your clothes are suddenly gone.
② Forced confessions → No matter what it is and no matter how hard you resist, you're going to be compelled to spill some deep dark secret!
③ Locked in a closet → For some reason, you're locked up in a closet with someone else. Do you make nice and try to figure your way out or what?
④ Animal → You're suddenly part animal or transformed into an animal!
⑤ Awkward pick-up lines → You're compelled to use bad pickup lines on whoever is closest!
⑥ Back in School / Graduated → You're suddenly back in school! Or if you were already in it, you've aged and long since graduated!
⑦ Vampires, werewolves, and zombies, oh my! → You're suddenly a vampire, werewolf, or zombie! Maybe even a demon or a devil, whatever creepy crawly you can think of. What do you do now?
⑧ Ghost → You're suddenly a ghost or at least invisible. What are you going to do with this new ability?
⑨ Suddenly a kid → You're a kid again! Have fun with that second childhood.
⑩ Bodyswap → Somehow you've changed bodies with the other person.

FLUFF.
① Cuddling → For whatever reason, characters feel like being close and cuddling.
② Pillow talk → After the main event, characters are up for some pillow talk.
③ Celebration → Anniversary or some other big event is taking place and characters want to celebrate!
④ Love confession → Someone has finally decided to confess their love and today is the day!
⑤ Appreciation → You feel the need to show appreciation for that person closest to you, even if it's just a pat on the back.
⑥ Apologies → You made a mistake and now it's time to make it up in some way you know the other can't refuse!
⑦ Get back together → Why did you break up again exactly? Whatever the reason, it was a huge mistake and you both know you can work through it.
⑧ Date night → You've planned for a wonderful night together and you can't wait to get it started.
⑨ Family → You've either found out you're pregnant or you've already got that addition to your family.
⑩ Marriage → You're just about to get hitched or maybe you're enjoying your honeymoon. Maybe you've been together for years now! Whatever the case, it's time for that next big step.

GEN.
① Nice meeting you → It's your first time meeting this person! You bumped into each other on the street, in a bar, at work... whatever!
② Drinks → You're out for drinks! Or just chilling at home with some beers. Wherever!
③ Lost → You're lost and you kind of need help finding your way to where you're going. A little help with directions?
④ Costume party → You're at a costume party, both of you are wearing masks. Do you keep the anonymity or take it off and see whose company you've been enjoying?
⑤ Wrong number → Oops, actually you didn't mean to call that person...
⑥ Drunk → You're already drunk! Drunk dialing, stumbling into someone, showing up unexpected... what type of drunk are you anyway? Aggressive, loving, happy? How does the other react?
⑦ Old friends → you haven't seen this person in a long time!
⑧ Rivals → you're suddenly rivals! Or maybe you have been all along...
⑨ Problems → you've got a problem with each other, just got in a huge fight, whatever. Try to work it out!
⑩ What are your intentions... → This person? They're dating a close friend, family member, etc. You need to find out if they're going to hurt them! Or you need to discuss your friend/family's dating choice.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[anything goes!]

[come at me, frères]

"We should start thinking about a name," she says, a few hours into lying comfortably in Bill's arms, the knitted blanket thrown over both of them.

It's beautiful how easy they take to peace, when it finally arrives. Shell Cottage feels less like a hideaway and more like a home, the sound of waves crashing against the reefs interrupting their reading time. It's late summer, but it's also England so there is, of course, a crispness in the air here, hence the need for a blanket.

When they settled in two hours ago to read, and cuddle up together on the old sofa, Fleur's heart felt full. It feels even fuller now.

"I was thinking about Victoire."

She hasn't told him, yet, but she thinks that this might be the way to go about it. Drop a mystery in his lap, and let Bill's clever mind work on untangling it.

(Also, he proposed to her while she was having a bath, this is revenge.)

There's been a difference in her smell for a few weeks now, though he didn't realize the cause of the change until she mentioned needing to pick out a name. Bill's heart did a flip as he went still in his seat, forgetting to breathe for a good long while as he looked down at her, stunned and frozen.

It took a moment before he sprang back into motion, the beginning of what would be a monstrously huge grin lighting up his face while he went a deep tomato red, giddy and overjoyed.

"Not Thundercat?" The question was posed on a gale of laughter as he practically folded himself in half to get at her lips and kiss her soundly.

It's never crossed her mind to doubt that his reaction would be one of joy, but she still cannot help the small amount of nerves that happen when he freezes. Because if he's not pleased with this situations, she might have to hex him, protective as she already is of the life growing inside her.

In hindsight, she might hex him anyway, for being absolutely ridiculous. She falls into the kiss with a laugh of her own, then pulls back to give him a look of fake outrage. "Why would you want to name our daughter the cat of thunder? How have you convinced everyone you're the cool Weasley?"

"Because nobody knows me like my hellcat wife," Bill practically fumbled over himself, wrapping her in his arms and lifting her off her feet as he planted eager, elated kisses over her face and the top of her head, giving them both a little spin around.

"Are you alright? Do you need to lay down?" He kissed her between questions, deciding that he was well within reason to carry her everywhere for the next nine months. He knew how much Fleur loved to be pampered, surely how overbearing he was on the verge of becoming would go over well.

She couldn't stop laughing, in all honesty, a joyous sound, one that filled her up, filled up the room.

"You're the one who picked me up," she pointed out, as soon as he stopped spinning and showed concern, then bopped his nose affectionately. His scar, the one bissecting his face from forehead across his nose, she leaned in and kissed it.

"I reject Thundercat, for the record. And not as a middle name, either!"

Edited 2021-05-10 21:59 (UTC)

"We need to stop meeting like this."

She thinks she's really smooth, in her defense, leaning against the doorway that leads to the pantry of Grimauld's Place, where Neville is currently crouching and grabbing more booze. Upstairs, the New Year's party is in full swing, and the once-gloomy house is louder than it's been in a long time; brighter, too.

And Hermione, who has had several cocktails shoved into her hands so far tonight by Fleur, Ginny and Luna, is absolutely sober. Totally and completely.

She's also not checking out Neville's arse. For sure not. Nor is she humming, appreciatively.

Because those are all things drunk people do.

"I dunno Mione," there's only a little slur to Neville's voice but there is a good degree of unabashedly jolly fondness that wouldn't be so blatant were it not for the holidays. "I reckon we ought to keep meeting."

He looked over his shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow as he squinted, a lopsided grin on his face as he studied her before turning around again, aware that she was looking at him with as much interest as he at her. Thankfully, whiskey took quite a bit of the edge off the nerves that might have come on the heels of that realization, and miraculously there was nothing else Neville felt compelled to do but enjoy it.

After giving the cabinet a once over and ensuring that everything anyone wanted to drink was already carefully collected in his arms he turned back around, crossing the room towards Hermione as he looked down at his haul. "Mind giving me a hand with these?" He looked at her hopefully, maybe a little too hopefully for someone who was just asking for help with some bottles.

She forces herself to lift her gaze and not objectify Neville Longbottom in his own house, and it's just as well that she does that, because he turns around then and doesn't catch her (the second time).

"Oh, of course! Sure," she rushes to say, and rushes into the pantry with him to take some bottles out of his arms.

In her attempt to jump to the rescue and be ever so useful, she kicks the door-stopper from under the door and doesn't notice it. Not until the door slams shut behind her with a decided thud, knocking her forward a little and pitching them in darkness.

"Oh - shit, here, let me just - wait, why is there no doorknob on the inside of the door?"

[ Normally he's sorted into Gryffindor. However, if he was raised Aegon Targaryen, by Lyanna or Rhaegar, he'd end up in Slytherin because he'd just want that ambition of power to keep his family safe after what it had been through. ]

Considering all that wizards are able to do (and all that Hermione knows how to do) with potions and spells, their interpretation of a formal fancy dress party is incredibly tame.

The event is hosted by the Daily Prophet, and Hermione as a sponsor feels obliged to attend it. She's applied some glamours - her hair is sleek today, pulled back into a pony tail, and in a dark brown shade, her eyes are a shade of green, and thanks to some cushioned high heels she is taller than usual - but for the most part, the party is wizards and witches dressed in pretty robes, wearing masks shaped like different animals.

She's a fox, today, to be inconspicuous. With a glass of wine in her hand, she hangs to the periphery of the dance floor, listening in on conversations and keeping to herself for the most part.

The parties were never something Jon was fully comfortable with, because he always feels odd man out. But with the mask, he's able to hide a little of who he is. The wolf mask he's wearing today is dark-furred instead of white like his large companion at home. Dark enough to match the hair that instead of being in his normal bun to keep it professional and clean, has been left wild like his mask.

Being the wallflower normally, he'll spot someone else hanging out on the edge and move slowly through the crowd toward her. It's a slow advance, almost like he's stalking the fox in his grey view. Something about her draws him closer and he has an urge to pull her out onto the dance floor so he can see those green eyes light up with enjoyment.

But first he has to ask her to do that dancing. So eventually he'll end up standing beside her, taking a moment to glance at her. "Someone as lovely as you deserves to be enjoying herself on that floor, not standing at the edges." His hand is offered to her as well, hoping he's not being too subtle.

She has to remind herself that, all charms and spells and glamours considered, the person with the wolf mask is not here to try to flirt with the war heroine, but because he saw someone he'd like to dance with. She's glad she reminds herself of this, in all honesty, because she rarely has a chance to just enjoy herself at parties.

There's an expectation of her to either hate it and bear with it out of obligation, or to avoid them out of discomfort. Right - because gods forbid that a know-it-all like her enjoys dancing.

"Maybe I'm waiting for the right invitation," she says, amused, and sets her hand in the offered one. With quick wandless magic, she vanishes the glass of wine in her other hand, and is ready for some anonymous dancing. Maybe more.

To be fair, well slightly intimidating because war hero, Jon would still want to dance with her if he knew who it was under her beautiful mask. Yet at the same time, the masks do allow for a sense of freedom because nothing is there to get in the way. It also makes being at the parties a little easier to bear, made them a little fun with the mystery of it all.

A smile blooms along his features as her hand settles into his and he uses it to gently pull her out onto the dancefloor and into him. With her close, his free hand will settle on the small of her back as he leads them to move with the music. "I'm glad to be the right invitation."

He was definitely open to see where this connection between them lead for the night. It's not something he might have let himself have without the mask, but because their identities are hidden he feels a little braver right now. Letting him push past those worries and insecurities about what people might thing of him. "Hopefully it'll prove a good night."

"It's a good start," she murmurs, because at least he moves well on the dance floor, and the truth is that having a good dance partner is rare.

"Is the masquerade working for you, Mr Wolf?" Because some people were apprehensive at the idea of hiding who they were, but not Hermione. She feels like a little bit of reckless adventure is due to her, after everything.

Of course, it could be a bad idea. Imagine if he turned out to be Malfoy, then she'd have to scrub herself clean for five hours. (Except that Malfoy hasn't done anything to earn himself an invite to this ball.) He's a tad taller, though, and there doesn't seem to be any glamour on him, so she reckons she's safe. Probably a person who either never went to Hogwarts or was not in any year with her.

Someone safe to have a little fun with.

It was always the younger students that made detention worse for Neville. He couldn't stand to watch them suffer and the Carrows knew that. There wasn't always a professor who still saw reason to swoop in and save the day in the nick of time, but more often than not Neville Longbottom was in detention, and as long as he could stand, he would put himself in between the Carrows and nearly any Hogwarts student.

On the bright side this time the student, a second-year Gryffindor was at least tall enough to support him on the walk back to the Common Room.

Roughed up and weary to the bone, Neville all but sank into one of the massive chairs by the fireplace. He groaned as he closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with the palms of blood-dotted hands. He knew he ought to go get patched up, but he was too tired to make it to the hospital wing that night and much too proud and cautious to be out and about in this state. He'd be an easy mark, and too many people needed him now.

The thought of doing everything he could to keep his friends in the DA safe was galvanizing, and it kept him getting out of bed in the morning, but just then it was going to take a lot to get him out of that chair.

Ginny has been trying to do what she can on the sidelines. Not everyone stood up to the Carrows like Neville did, but there were a couple of them. And while she didn't put herself completely in the way like he did, she did try to catch the younger students and get them to quiet down before attention was drawn, to keep them safe in the the ways she knew how. It's not like she liked the new Hogwarts, nor did she approve of the way Hogwarts had turned, but for her, the best way was to work a little more under cover, a little more quiet.

She also made sure to help bandage and tend to those that got on the wrong side of the Carrows, at least for her house and for the right reasons. Reasons like what Neville's been doing.

A passing student catches sight of him as they're slipping through the Common Room, and of course they mention it to Ginny. She doesn't waste any time in gathering the first aid supplies that she has in her room, she's been making sure to stay well stocked as she can because they've been needing it. Though even supplies can be hard to come by sometimes. Shaking her head with her small bag, she slips down to the Common Room and moves over to the chair that he's in.

Her hand brushes his shoulder gently as she comes around to kneel in front of him a little so she can check him out, eyes searching for the more obvious wounds that will need tending. "How bad?" Because she doesn't have to ask what anymore. Everyone knows.

"Been a lot worse," it hasn't been that much worse, but he's got to keep things as light as he can, even on matters so dire. He wasn't bleeding heavily and while there would be some deep bruises across his middle from the toes of boots he had managed to catch in detention before being strung up by yet another of the Carrow's horrible curses to better catch a different sort of pain.

Opening his eye, though one was a little too swollen to open fully he gave Ginny a grin leaning back heavily against the chair he had collapsed into. "Don't look so worried Ginny," partly because seeing her so concerned twisted at his heart, and partly because Neville had a sneaking suspicion that could, and would, get so much worse before it was over.

[Anything goes! Also happy to talk about plotting if you want, I'm very easy.]

Edited 2021-04-20 18:08 (UTC)

"The issue is, of course, that you've neglected to add enough sand to that soil mix." The disembodied voice sounded quite sure of itself as it reverberated through the greenhouse.

The ghost had been watching Neville for a while. Ordinarily, she kept her dealings minimal and centered around those who had been sorted into her house, but a naturally gifted herbologist was a rare thing, and as with all aspects of academia Rowena was captivated by Neville's gift. She enjoyed the brilliant ones, no matter what they were brilliant in, or which house they hailed from.

This castle was Helena's domain and after everything that had happened with her, Rowena did not wish to cause her daughter more pain, but this was still her castle and she was still a part of it. Rowena had poured her time, talent, and love into Hogwarts, and her soul would not be parted from it as thoroughly as the finality of death would suggest.

Utterly thoughtless when it came to the matter of just how odd this moment must be for the mortal, Rowena materialized beside him peering into the plant tray as the long blue silks of her gown rippled in a phantom breeze. "I realize we cannot always recreate the habitats these plants come from, and these especially," she gestured at the tray he'd been working from, her hand passing through the budding blossoms and leaving them undisturbed.

"It is difficult to recreate habitats that no longer exist and these come from a mountain that went back to the sea hundreds of years ago, but really Neville, you must do your research and do your best. Lest you have a tray of rotting rootballs to show for all your hard work."

Edited 2021-04-20 23:47 (UTC)

You'd think that after close to seven years at Hogwarts, Neville would be used to ghosts popping up at random places. And to be fair, he is. Mostly. Like when they pop up in places where he expects them. Like The Great Hall. Or the dungeons. Or literally anywhere that's not a greenhouse.

It doesn't help that his nerves are taunt and tense, this last year at Hogwarts being nothing like he'd hoped for. Between one Carrow and the other, he has seriously reconsidered whether Snape's classes really were the worst he's ever attended, and Herbology is his only refuge, which is why he's here now. Taking care of some rare plants after hours, ostensibly for additional NEWT practice, but in reality to soothe his stressed brain. Soil makes head feel good.

If you put all that together, maybe it's no wonder that when Rowena speaks and emerges out of thin air, he panics just a little bit, steps wrong, knocks a ceramic pot off a table to the side, and drops his bag of fertilizer to the ground. Then lands on his ass.

"Bloody..." He bites down on a swear word, once he realizes that the ghost is definitely an adult, and therefore probably a former teacher. That would be unwise. "Sorry, I... You startled me."

When he confessed to being startled Rowena nodded some, glancing his way before her attention returned to his plants. "I know." She knows almost everything that goes on within her school. There's hardly a stone in the place that wasn't laid without her knowledge and approval and those stones see much, imparting their memories to a spirit like hers, who knew what wordless questions to ask.

"In truth, I'm quite pleased my appearance could make such an impression. It's been a very long time since I was seen." The ghost ran its spectral hands over the wilted stems of the plants, as she hummed thoughtfully.

"Should you sprinkle a bit of powdered ironstone onto the soil it ought to leach down to the roots when you water, that's what they're missing so much."

Edited 2021-04-28 02:08 (UTC)

Well, that much is true. This is Neville's seventh year, and he hasn't seen this ghost once. Who knew that he could still be surprised about something like this?

And, more importantly: who knew that there was a Herbology ghost in Hogwarts?

"Ironstone," he repeats, looking around to see if he's got any. Surely there will be some in the cupboards? He better start looking.

"Thank you for the lesson," he says, striving to be polite. "My name is Neville Longbottom. What should I call you?"

"You!"

That was never good…

But the person who emerged from the clutch of partygoers was no one Sirius would've expected at this kind of party… or swaying like she might actually be—

"Slhiriouslyrius," Narcissa Black announced, more obviously drunk than she was usually obviously anything. She almost tripped and grabbed Sirius's lapel to keep herself upright.

"Lousymerlinsknickers," she mumbled, waving her hand—ah, no, actually, her wand—haphazardly. "Arseholetosser spiked me. My drink. Must've. Prettysureny. Dinntnknow whooeywuz messing… mess. Unrelatefd: dida weasel run this way?"

"I swear this time I didn't do it," Sirius said automatically as he turned and watched his cousin walk ... well, sort of sway over to him.

He watched her with a slow grin and raised his eyebrows. When she nearly tripped, he reached out to help brace her. "Cissa, how is one of my favorite cousins," he asked watching her with amusement. Though "favorite" was perhaps reaching a little bit, that certainly didn't matter right now.

"Ah - you may want to be careful with that as pissed as you are," he said reaching out to her hand that held the wand. Oh, this was great and for once, while he'd had a few drinks he wasn't quite on that same level as she was. At least not yet.

Sirius snorted at the words and was fairly sure he understood most of what she said. The last thing he would admit was that it had been the Marauders who'd spiked said punch. "Weasel? No, can't say I've seen Molohov around."

She twitched the wand out of his grasp with a scowl; though another wild vacillation brought it practically into his palm.

"Nnnno," said Cissa. She tried to, presumably, whap his shoulder with her palm and missed so badly, she almost fell past him. "A weasel>. Liken otter. No. A muskox. -Rat. Thingie. Preeeeeettysure I turned whatsisface into one. Showhimfordrinkingmyspike."

Sirius did his best to laugh outright laugh at the look she gave him and instead cleared his throat to put on his most serious face (pun both unintended and intended).

"Ahhh, well," he said and considered if he had seen such a creature go by and shook his head. Course, he hadn't been paying that much attention and had been more focused on, other things. "No, I have not seen a weasel go by but I am sure he's around here somewhere." And he sure hoped it hadn't been one of the Marauders!

Though wouldn't that be hilarious if it had!

"Good," decreed Cissa, a satisfied regent. "I'lljust beoverthere then. Havinga liedown." She started to turn away, but where to would never be solved, because then she simply pitched forward, right onto Sirius. She collapsed over his shoulder, so limp he'd need to catch her to keep her from sliding to the floor.

(Somehow, her wand remained in her hand. That was discipline.)

She started to snore.

The last thing Sirius had expected was for Narcissa to collapse onto him, dead asleep. Her wand held tightly in her hand. Leave it to Cissa to have discipline even asleep!

Truth be told, it was charming, really and although he knew she was pissed, showed a great deal such as trust that she had in him. He set his glass aside on a nearby table and stooped down to pick her up. He'd make sure he got her to her common room, he wasn't sure he trusted very many to not take advantage of the situation.

[Oh hi!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

that's so random

hermione granger

fleur delacour

lily evans

aldric emberford (oc)

bill weasley

fluff + 1

forgive me

never

no subject

no subject

neville longbottom

gen + 6, enjoy

no subject

no subject

hermione granger

ted tonks

Jon Snow | GoT

gen + 4

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Ginny Weasley

no subject

no subject

no subject

Neville Longbottom

throws weird crap at your feet

I am all about weird and you know it

no subject

no subject

Sirius Black

Gen 6? Hogwarts party?

YESS!!

no subject

no subject

no subject

Okay for real though, I adore their interaction!

Harry Potter

Cassie Potter (Fem!Harry)

Tonks [late and having drank all the coffee]