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joeytime · 3 months

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Maxiel Hogwarts Au...

If you asked Max what he thought of Hogwarts, he would likely make a joke about pigs and insult their quidditch teams.

He isn't sure it's smart to do that now, in the middle of the Hogwarts' grand hall, completely surrounded by Hogwarts' students and staff. He isn't sure he could escape even if he had his broom.

"Wow, you really hate Hogwarts." The dreaded hat says atop his hair.

Shut up! Max thinks furiously at it. Get out of my head!

Everyone stares intensely at Max, not daring to breathe while the fate of the member of the national quidditch team is being decided. Even the teachers are at the edge of their seats, other than Dumbledore, he seems to know where Max will inevitably end up.

"Little quidditch champion. Everyone is expecting" The hat says, as if it's life of forever moving from head to head to call one of four words is somehow a greater destiny than Max's.

It's not. Max knows he will go on to succeed in life, and win as many quidditch championships as he wants and then retire on an island in The Maldives with a butt load of cash while the hat is left in a dusty room, waiting for it's yearly use. Max wants to reach to rip it up but it would not be wise to do so in front of Dumbledore himself. His hands stay in his lap, frown etched on his face.

"Impatient. Immature." Max's fingers twitch slightly. There is only so much backtalk one can take from a hat.

"Violent and uncaring, wherever will I put you?" Max doesn't agree with that description, he cares plenty, about winning that is.

"Foolish. Foolish boy." It doesn't hurt, Max has heard those words plenty of times.

Max sulks.

It's a beat of silence before the suspense reaches its climax. "Hufflepuff! " The hat hollers, not bothering to consult Max on it's decision. Which is very rude and impolite.

The entire room erupts into chaos, screams of "What! " and "No way! No way!" echo throughout the hall.

Max can't help but agree, he thought he might end up in Gryffindor or Slytherin, maybe Ravenclaw if he was super unlucky. But Hufflepuff? His father was going to disown him. The media are going to have a field day. Well they were going to already, regardless of which house Max was put in.

Dumbledore moves to pull the hat off of Max, the treacherous thing whispers one last time: "Things will make sense in time. Be patient. Do not mope."

Max doesn't mope. Verstappens can't mope, so he doesn't.

Dumbledore gently guides a slightly speechless Max to the Hufflepuff table, pushing him into the seat before winking and walking off.

Max wants to burn down this school.

Cheers erupt from the Hufflepuff table, hands coming to pat him on the back and fawn over him.

The other tables seem miserable at the prospect of losing out on a quidditch champion.

"Oh my god! Hi! Hi! Oh my god! It's you!" A boy excitedly chatters to his left, other students crowd around him and Max suddenly finds that he can't breathe. It's like he's small again, after being knocked off his broom by an overly excited big kid. He had fallen to the ground, too exhausted and overwhelmed to get back up.

His father had been mad, really mad. He hadn't slept well again after that.

"Guys! Guys! He doesn't look so good. " Whoever that is, is definitely right, Max can hardly breathe, he tries to use the breathing technique his father taught him after his first match, control his breathing. It doesn't work, it only causes the panic and urgency in his veins to surge. It did work, it's purpose was to put him on guard, not calm down.

He curls into himself, hands around his ears to protect from the deafening sound of crowds cheering. His bubble of personal space is of course pried and poked at. Fans never had any self awareness when it came to these matters and his father never did have sympathy for personal space.

Hands are pried away from him, he can hear outraged screeching at the action. His own quidditch team's screams when he was 6 years old and pulled away to join the older kids. They thought it wasn't fair that a small boy climbed the ranks faster than they did.

"Hey! Hey! Everyone back up right now!" The entire opposing team bombarding him in an attempt to stop him. The referee's reprimand that fell on deaf ears.

The people at his sides are replaced and gentle hands hold him back up, out of the ball he curled himself into.

Max doesn't dare look up, too afraid at the thought of seeing his father's judgemental look.

"Hey, are you okay? " Max turns his head, soft, gentle, warm eyes, concerned. Jos was never concerned, he was the uncaring one! Not Max!

"I'm fine. " A repeated response, practiced again and again every time he came home to his mother.

The teen with the soft eyes gestures for another boy to sit on Max's other side. The boy opposite Max looks on in concern.

"Hello. I'm Daniel Riccardo, I'm a prefect of Hufflepuff, it's nice to meet you." The gentle boy says, eyes still filled with concern.

"Max Verstappen. " Max manages to choke out.

"The boy on your left is Yuki Tsunoda and that's Lando Norris." Daniel gestures to the boy sitting opposite Max, who waves shyly.

The ruckus Max's sorting caused calms down and everyone settles down to listen to Dumbledore's welcome back speech which luckily does not mention Max.

Max feels strange between Riccardo and Tsunoda, like dread wrapped in false cotton. Norris also peers at him from time to time, creep.

They're sent back to their dorms. Max tells Riccardo that he can get there on his own but the older boy frowns and insists that he takes Max. Max thinks his father would be disappointed at his complacency but he doesn't have the strength to fight it.

Riccardo leads him to the kitchen, Max wants to snap some insult about him being a goody two shoes and how this is none of his business. He holds his tongue.

Riccardo gestures to a specific barrel, looking more worn out than the ones around it. He taps a certain beat, perhaps it's a secret code. That's childish, Max decides, they are not children playing in a fort.

The barrel swings open.

Max grimaces at the small tunnel.

"Here, you try tapping it." Riccardo puts Max's hand to the barrel.

Max repeats the rhythm perfectly. Memory exercises were part of his training.

Once Riccardo is satisfied, he points at the tunnel, almost as if he wants Max to crawl through it.

Max scrunches his nose, seriously? The older boy points more urgently and Max relents, shoving himself through the tunnel.

Well, not shoving, he's not really big, a fact his father loathed, putting him on diets with large sums of proteins and even attempting to use transfiguration spells before it was put to a stop by his mother.

Max wished his mother had not stopped his father. Maybe he would have an excuse not to join this god forsaken house.

It's an agonizing 5 second crawl before he pops out the other end right in front of Lando Norris, the boy before.

Daniel appears behind him, putting a hand on Max's shoulder.

"So Max, this is the Hufflepuff house. You know Yuki and Lando. That's Oscar, Nico and Valtteri." Riccardo urges the boys to come forward.

"It's Verstappen. " Max declares, Riccardo quirks an eyebrow and the rest of the boys look equally confused.

"Hi! I'm Lando! I'm like a huge fan, do you mind signing this for me? " The boy's yellow robes are somehow orange.

Max's PR training kicks in and he smiles one of those sickly sweet smiles that his father loves to wipe off his face before ordering him to smile again. His posture straightens and he reaches a hand around the younger boy's shoulders, patting him on his back once, twice. Just like he rehearsed.

"Sure! " His tone is so obviously a faux sweet as he reaches to retrieve the black marker from his back pocket. The boy has stars in his eyes and Max feels guilty, he always does. He's a fraud.

He signs the hat from his national team, the one he left behind.

He wishes he didn't.

"Hey, are you okay Max? " Riccardo asks, looking weird again.

"I'm doing great, how are you? " His PR trainer said asking back these questions were endearing, cute. Max's father had mocked him for that act, his trainer had been fired after that.

"How about I bring you to your room? Would you like that?" Riccardo asks, Max smiles again, nodding.

"Sure." Norris waves enthusiastically as Riccardo leads him out of the common room and into his private room.

"Are you alright? Max?"

"Call me Verstappen."

"Verstappen. Are you alright?"

"You can go, Riccardo. "

"... Call if you need anything."

When the prefect leaves, Max wants nothing but to burst into tears. He flops onto the bed.

The next day he drags himself out of bed. Even if classes don't start till 9 and the sun hasn't risen yet.

Jos expected him to continue his strict training regime. He was almost tempted to skip it and lie to his father but he thought he better not after his humiliating sorting from yesterday.

Now, alone, Max can see the Hufflepuff room properly. It's... It's all gentle lighting, none of the bright fluorescent lights his room had. The chairs looked comfy and the many plants lazing around the common room tempts him to join them.

Perhaps that would be a better fate, turning into a plant to live the rest of his life in the common room. His hand lingers on his wand, mind on a spell his professor taught him when he was just 9. He didn't.

When he had crawled out of the Hufflepuff room, fully dressed, broom in hand, the sun was just peaking from the horizon.

The halls are empty, some portraits mutter as he walks by. His father's portraits never moved, other than those instructed to. For example, a painter that never stopped moving his brush or a surfer never to take a break from the sea.

Making his way to the Hogwarts field, he stretched, slow and patient. His bones crack from the exhausting day he had before.

The field is decent sized, not as big as the one he played in during national championships, bigger than the one his father made him run laps around till he fainted.

He glides through the air easily, flying comes easily to him. If he were to be given his own time and freedom he thinks he would likely still be a top player in the school leagues.

It's better that he was hurled up though. Better to have reached the top by sheer force of his father's training.

He thinks about his national team, he's a reserve, too young to play officially but the team has him in some practices and he attends smaller competitions for them. Max suspects it's more about having a claim on Max when he comes of age.

He's 15, he still has 3 years to choose which team he wants to go to. By then, he will make his own choice. He will not do whatever pleases his father anymore.

The golden snitch twinkles near the end of the field. Max pretends not to see it.

It is fun, sometimes, tricking the golden snitch, allowing it a false sense of security. Like a tiger cub playing with a cricket.

His father would get mad at him if he did it for too long, he was upset his son couldn't catch it at once. Which Max could, he just didn't see the fun of it.

The fluttering golden ball is in his hands before it can even think of escaping.

Max briefly wonders if the snitch can possibly think, he lets it flutter away, repeating his game once again.

In the golden light of the sun and shaded path of the clouds, the wind whizzes past his ears, he falls into the familiar rhythm of flying, sometimes he makes his own obstacle courses, weaving through imaginary hoops.

By the time the sun reveals itself fully to watch Max fly, he realizes that a crowd has gathered around under him, star-struck Hogwarts students watching, mouths open and everything.

He flushes slightly, he may have had many adoring fans due to his membership in the national team and young age but come on! These were his peers.

Max lowers down, checking his watch to see that it is indeed 8.30am and he has to run if he wants to get to class not drenched in sweat.

He waves slightly to the crowd, zipping to the house dorm even though he's probably breaking several school rules.

He knocks the tune and enters quickly, still high from the adrenaline of flying.

He climbs out of the tunnel only to come face to face with Daniel Riccardo, his face stern and stony.

"Verstappen! You can't just sneak out like that!" Daniel's expression softens when he sees Max.

Max knows he feels pity even if Riccardo knows nothing about his life.

"I of course did not sneak out, I left my room and went to the field." Max doesn't think early hour training counts as sneaking out, going to parties in the dead of the night is sneaking out.

"Max, we were worried. I went into your room and you weren't there. Thought you'd been kidnapped by the other houses to play quidditch for them or something... "

Max considers this briefly, Riccardo knocking on his door gleefully, freezing when he doesn't get an answer. Did his blood pressure spike? Did he throw Max's door open in desperation only to find the room empty?

Max grimaces.

"I went to go training... Sorry..." Max stands awkwardly, hands by his side like a child being punished by a parent.

Riccardo sighs. Max wants to cry.

"Please forgive me, I'm of course sorry, I will do anything!" Max cringes inside, begging with someone other than his father is a foreign concept.

Riccardo has a cheeky smile on his face, Max is almost scared.

"I'll forgive you... Only if you call me Daniel!"

Max groans inwardly, well he's also partly relieved but Daniel doesn't need to know that.

"What will it be Max? Will you call me the d word? Or will you suffer in my never ending spite! "Daniel's grin grows.

" Fine. "

" Fine, who? "

"Fine. Daniel."

Max flushes, weird.

Daniel looks elated.

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hogwartslegacypics · 9 months

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#i’m so curious to see if there’s any correlations #plot twist EVERYONE condones it #edit: SLYTHERIN GOIN STRONG WITH 0 NO’S YESS LOVE MY HOUSE #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #solomon sallow

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ravenclawh0re18 · 8 months

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Ravenclaw: Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here?! Hufflepuff: It's kind of complicated, but Gryff- Ravenclaw: Got it. Forget I asked.

#ravenclaw just can't be arsed #ravenclaw #harry potter #hogwarts houses #incorrect hp quotes #incorrect quote generator #harry potter text post #hogwarts #hogwarts house incorrect quotes #hp text post #poor gryffindor #gryffindor #no offense to any gryffindors #gryffindor x ravenclaw #ravenclaw x gryffindor #ravendor #gryffinclaw #hufflepuff

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ask-wren-zhang · 4 months

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For your ask post:

If they were ever granted one wish, what would they wish for?

Sighs in wistful lactose intolerance, "to eat a cheesecake." 😔

#rp #wren speaks #wren tries to be funny #writing the rest OOC bc Wren is very unlikely to say any of these out loud 😆 It's going to get a bit convoluted from here #and I really want to take this chance to add something more in depth instead of just something quippy as usual #a little backstory tidbit #Ok so Wren was born in Dublin but her family moved to Belfast #a violent and overcrowded city with deteriorating conditions at the time HL takes place (I did my history homework lol)#at some point Wren's childhood was plagued with riots and arsons #it's why she dislikes the spell Incendio 🔥#yet even since attending Hogwarts #her parents for some reason insist on staying in Belfast #more than anything Wren wants her parents to see sense #that whatever academic or business pursuits they have aren't worth risking their lives every time they leave the house #and maybe convince the Ministry into relocating her parents to Hogsmeade #or at least somewhere nearby in Scotland where she can keep an eye on them #but her parents are as stubborn as a mule #and they don't write to her often #Wren has no choice but make do with the occasional letters from home #then go to bed every night riddled with anxiety #thinking whether her family made back home safely #😃

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thefangirlofhp · 6 months

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25. fireplace

“Now why would I do that?”

Elain looks over from her Herbology textbook at Azriel, hunched over the long table reading yesterday’s print of The Daily Prophet. Next to them, Rhysand and Cassian have settled into a game of chess a few minutes ago.

“Come on, mate,” Rhys persuades him, from where he’s sitting next to Elain. “Mum would love to have you there. We’d have proper fun. Cassian’s coming.”

Cassian snaps his head up from the chess board and pointedly glares at Rhys. “I said I’m going if Az is.”

“Shut up,” Rhys waves him quiet. “Mor will be there.”

“She’s your cousin, of course she is,” Azriel replies, uninterested, as he turns a page. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Now you aren’t,” Rhys argues. “But it’s not for another two weeks. Eh? I could lend you guys some of my clothes, you wouldn’t have to worry about getting fitted or anything. Better yet, Mum would make you robes on the spot if I tell her you’re coming.”

“Rhys, man,” Azriel sighs, and lays a scarred hand flat on top of the newspaper. “I’m really honored you want me there, but it’s not my crowd.”

“It’s a New-Years ball, at my parents’,” Rhys reiterates. “We’ll fuck around with the guests for a bit, steal a couple of drinks, break into Dad’s office, and have fun at my place. What about that isn’t your crowd?”

Azriel blinks down at the paper, quiet, as a muscle in his jaw flickers. Cassian glances at him, before turning back to Rhys.

“Maybe drop it?” Cassian suggests quietly. “Don’t pressure him.”

“You’re gonna make a move or not?!” demands a chess piece, that Rhys promptly moves before looking back at Azriel.

“What are you even going to do over the holidays?” Rhys asks. “Stay here alone all break?”

“I’ve got work to catch on,” Azriel replies quietly. “I’m way back.”

“Hey, I’ve got you covered on that,” Rhys presses. “And the professors understand. Come to the ball, change of air. What do you say?”

Elain leans against the table edge, watching Azriel purse his lips tightly.

“Sleep on it,” she suggests softly, as three pairs of eyes swivel to her. “Could be nice. Does he have to answer now?” she asks Rhys.

“No,” he quickly answers. “No, of course. She’s right. Think it over, yeah? You can’t let Cass go alone.”

Azriel nods once. “I’ll think about it.”

Rhys nods and returns to his and Cassian’s chess game. Elain meets Azriel’s eyes and offers an encouraging smile.

“Oh, and Elain, you’re welcome too, obviously,” Rhys remembers, a few minutes later. “Sorry, it slipped my mind.”

“Thank you,” she smiles politely. “It’d be a pleasure, but I’ve got plans with my family for the holiday.”

“Ah,” Rhys blinks. “That’s a shame. But have fun, yeah.”

She smiles again, and returns to her Herbology and swirling thoughts. She, too, like Azriel is very much behind on their work. Only Azriel has a plausible and legitimate reason but Elain’s is her lost grasp on reality. The stress makes it worse, as she’s realized, and this state of hers only generates more for her to worry over and on goes the vicious cycle.

She does think a change of scenery would be good for him; this year has been rough on all of them, but for Azriel it’s been one punch after the other. From being interrogated almost monthly by the Ministry aurors for potential relations to Hybern’s supporters (an unfortunate consequence of being the Shadowsinger family’s heir, the first actual shadowsinger in several generations) and most recently his mother’s passing away. Elain feels as if it has upended his life in a way, as whatever boy he was before this was no longer found in the aftermath. Azriel had left the school to bury her, and what came back was a solemn and reserved young man—granted he has always kept to himself, to a certain degree, but it was attributable to his shy nature and unique personality. But something was different, now, and Elain hopes it is only the grief.

When most of the students in the Great Hall have retired to their dormitories, and Elain’s too drowsy to make sense of the blurring words on the pages, Azriel takes a look at her and folds up the newspaper neatly.

“Come on,” he climbs over the table and shuts her textbook. “Bed.”

She yawns. “But ‘m not tired.”

“Elain, do you really want to risk actual sleep for half-assed no-yield studying?” Azriel packs her things up into her bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Could you guarantee another chance to sleep?”

She stands up, and follows him to the doors. “You’re right,” she mumbles. “But I want to stay up with you. I know you’re not getting any sleep.”

“I’m fine,” he replies. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Don’t have to,” she insists. “I’m right as rain.”

Azriel sighs. “Yeah. Plans with your family over the holidays? Since when?”

“Well, I am going to see Nesta, and spend time with Father,” Elain frowns. “What’s so unbelievable about that?”

Azriel raises a brow at her. “Didn’t you say your Father’s in Brazil?”

Elain blinks. “I actually forgot about that. But I’m going home, nonetheless. And you should stay with the Blackwoods. I hate to think of you here alone.”

“Look, let’s agree to suspend our mutual worry for each other and just focus on our own selves, how about that?”

Elain snorts. That meant she was winning. They reach the Hufflepuff corridor, and Elain turns to Azriel. “Hey,” she reaches out and squeezes his hand. “Think it over, really, okay?”

His eyes flicker over her face, his own unreadable and encrypted with his narrowed brows and clenched jaw. “I will,” he replies softly.

“Liar,” she breathes out.

He pauses.

“What are you hiding?” it is a rhetoric question, of course. If she thought whatever he had going on was something he could actually talk about, she’d have long ago pressed him for answers. But Elain kept his mother’s passing in mind, the bare minimum of excuses, while keeping a close eye on him. But she supposes what she wants to say is something like; I see you and I don’t understand, but I see something is the matter.

Azriel shakes his head a beat late. “Nothing,” he softly lies, and she supposes he knows already by now she can hear the lies just as well as the truth. “Good night, Elain.”

She watches him go. “Night, Az.”

#hogwarts!au #strikes again #reader: so it's really either a short nonsensical word vomit or an intricate scene from a fic with insider references and details #to the overall plot that you're not really revealing?#me: uh yeah :)) yes you are correct :))#elain archeron #rhysand #cassian #hufflepuff!elain #ravenclaw!azriel #slytherin!rhysand #gryffindor!cassian #no i will not accept any different houses this is final #although i would turn a blind eye to rhys being in ravenclaw but his slytherin characteristics are overwhelming #maybe one day i'll get to sit down and write this entirely #when i'm done with apaixonar and the last chapter of loea #hogwarts elriel #because i am a sucker for that #cheers

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midnightmah07 · 7 months

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Guys this is random I know but like... which NRC dorm would u assign me to like I'm genuinely curious

I'm pretty sure I know where I'd be sorted into but I wanna know what u guys think👁️👁️

#💙! mah rambles #if this is of any help #my Hogwarts house is Hufflepuff #lmao #u don't need to tell me however #it would be very fun to know

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cecenyss · 6 months

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Okay listen. Listen okay. Dumbledore’s moral failings are a result of poor writing.

Like jkr goes out of her way to describes Albus Dumbledore as this paragon of virtue who’s constantly trying to do the right thing and he’s practically omniscient and one of the only reasonable people in the entire wizarding world

And then she turns around and goes “but he didn’t check on the boy he left in the care of a Muggle he had been warned was going to mistreat him by someone he’s known for years” and he didn’t check for eleven years.

And then after that when Harry’s envelope literally said cupboard under the stairs nobody checked on that?? And hey hey McGonagall was the only one who’d see that letter actually she was the one who signed it so that’s poor writing on her character too

But this is about Dumbledore not her

And then nobody double checked on Sirius Black and whatnot including Dumbledore (and that’s not just Albus?? Like Remus didn’t, nobody else who knew Sirius didn’t) which is frankly ridiculous because he had friends and what can be assumed was an active social life given he was friends with James Potter who everybody falls over themselves to sing the praises of at every opportunity

This is, I think, an issue with writing an overpowered character in general. You describe them as virtually all-knowing, but then don’t come up with reasonable explanations for why they wouldn’t know certain things that need to be unknown for the plot to progress. You give them awesome powers, and then struggle thinking of ways for them to be thwarted.

When this isn’t done correctly, the only possible explanation for the fans is to make the op character in question an asshole. They didn’t care enough to check that a child was safe or they didn’t feel like vouching for the safety of someone else so they just didn’t or they allowed people to become collateral damage even though it would’ve been a perfectly viable solution to let things play out another way.

It’s so annoying to me that people do this but it’s also perfectly understandable because in reality the character is fundamentally contradictory; there’s no real way to reconcile the ideas that “Dumbledore is intelligent and wise” and “Dumbledore didn’t bother checking on an infant who actively had terrorists gunning for him for over a decade.” Those two things just can’t coexist without some serious bending over to make them make sense.

But they have to for the story to make internal sense, because it is a bad story. It’s just bad writing, there’s no way around it. And that’s a really difficult thing to swallow, even after coming to terms with jkr’s bigotry. Because even when she was just transphobic and racist and just kind of a bigot in general I could still say “well, the story was good, but it sucks she turned out so bad.” But I really can’t say that anymore. And that hurts so, so bad.

#tw: jkr #dumbledore #albus dumbledore #fuck jkr #the things I love about Harry Potter come from the fandom #I love the fics I read about it and I love the community it makes me a part of #Harry Potter had a fundamentally good base #but even those parts are iffy #like Merlin supposedly going to Hogwarts? he would have lived 500 years before Hogwarts was supposedly founded #house elves? need I say more #witches and wizards are not gendered terms #whenever I think about this in any kind of depth I always come back to this one tumblr post that describes it as #similar to coming out of a fae spell #like you suddenly come to all these realizations like you were incapable of seeing them before #ugh this was just meant to be another Dumbledore apologist post but now I’m sad #:(#harry potter

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