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xydolikestheescanors · 1 year

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In fanfiction, I often see people pointing out that if only the Escanor siblings grew up together, there wouldn’t be a great conflict between them such as both in the comics and the series. Here is my AU for the series verse about Escanor siblings growing and ruling together as a result of Elyon's kidnapping being prevented (multiple times).

(Important note: Phobos doesn't kill Weira and Zayden; instead, it is Nerissa’s doing)

So, having prevented Elyon's kidnapping attempt by Aliborn and Miriadel after Weira and Zayden’s deaths, Phobos and Cedric would influence her whole world view by simply being there all the way throughout the future queen’s childhood. Despite Phobos initially hating and planning to get rid of his baby sister by any means possible, she would live along with him, saved by Cedric talking sense into the prince in the moment of his weakness right after their parents’ passing. Cedric's reasoning being that the Heart’s death would damage their world and set the vulnerable civilians and nobles against the prince would be enough to allow Elyon to live and grow to be a ruler… along with her brother. Raised with no clear role models aside from her older brother (with Weira and Zayden being hated by both Phobos and Cedric), Elyon would make a manipulative individual constantly passing as her brother’s nicer opposite (which, considering his snappish and sociopathic tendencies, would not be too hard at first) even wearing light colored dresses to his dark colored robes. Despite being favored by nobles and other metamoorians for both being a girl and a pretty naive-looking princess, Elyon would pronounce Phobos as King the day of her coronation as Queen.

In terms of this AU, I see the royal siblings’ dynamic as borderline codependent. After preventing kidnapping attempts, looking like assasination attempts in the times of civil war being caused by Weira’s murder, Phobos would eventually grow attached to his baby sister. Her only family, he would make a possessive kind of older brother, seeing Elyon as this creature he deeply cares about because she belongs to him and him only, a spit to his late mother’s face.

That being said, together the two form an absolute magical powerhouse with Phobos’ ambitions to conquer the universe and Elyon being the Heart of Meridian and, seemingly, a sweetheart, when in reality she is just as ambitious as her brother.

I’m contemplating whether or not Kandrakar’s Veil would be raised AFTER Elyon and Phobos’ coronation and their conquests of other worlds. An idea of Phobos conquering Kandrakar first has its fleur because that would grant him the Heart of Kandrakar and, in turn, not only make him powerful but also give the new King a pretty pair of wings. I like imagining the series Phobos with wings as well as his tattoos of horns, making him a little more… evolved.

Introverted and extremely knowledgeable of magical theory, idealist Phobos would be the strategist while more extroverted Elyon with her enormous magical power would make a tactician and a diplomat if that makes sense.

“You are smarter, my dear brother, but I'm more rational.”

(Btw they would totally use vocatives such as “my dear/sweet/kind (sarcastically) sister” and “my dear/wise/kind (equally sarcastically) brother” for each other)

Also, since Phobos would be the one selecting those allowed to interact with his sister, she would totally have Miranda for an advisor and best (aside from Phobos himself and Cedric) friend. Both cunning and witty, they would cause mayhem; in the castle (before Elyon becoming the queen) and on the battlefield (after).

As a side note, part of Phobos’ heritage to Elyon is being gay. In terms of this AU, Elyon/Miranda is just a tiny bit healthier than Phobos/Cedric.

Aesthetically speaking, a quarrel between the Escanor siblings would look like black and white roses, created by their magic around the two, trying to push down one another.

Oh, and the throne room with two thrones is divided into two sections: all gothic and black and all gothic and white. I'm not sure what their castle looks like yet.

Bonus:

“In our family, one has to at least appear emotionally available and the other is always Phobos.”

Also

“One has to be able to express their thoughts through words properly and the other is Phobos.”

(Phobos is bad with both words of encouragement and feelings so occasionally, during Elyon’s childhood, he makes flower crowns for her to show that he likes her)

And, lastly, an amazing comforting life hack Elyon learned very early: tell a distressed person to imagine a world clear of all irritating creatures and blinding sunlight and, instead, full of flowers of the best color ever. Black, that is. Also, the flowers have thorns and are dangerous. This is the ultimate xanadu lol

#atm I don't have the time to write w.i.t.c.h. fanfiction but this au concept is keeping me awake at night #xydo's escanors duo au #w.i.t.c.h.#phobos escanor #elyon brown #elyon escanor

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that-bwitch · 6 years

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We Don’t Talk Anymore

So, a long while ago I got a request for Cedric about reader being his bff and when he starts dating Cho, he distances himself from reader, and overall angst, and I'm finally introducing a new character I'll be writing for since right now!

Thanks for your request, dear anon, I hope you will enjoy it! This is my first Cedric fic, so please tell me if I messed up his characterization or not. Also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged for him :)

Word count: 1,660

“Cedric! Diggory, you bastard, turn around!”

You waved at the boy until he finally noticed you. Quickly approaching him, you held out your arms, inviting him for your usual greeting hug. Cedric did it as well, patting you on the back, but for some reason he seemed strangely lost and not as joyful as he usually was whenever you met. You didn’t pay too much attention, though — he might have been tired after the whole morning spent on the Quidditch practice.

“How’s it going?” you wondered, proceeding to walk next to him along the path, leading to the castle. “You look hella tired to be honest.”

“A bit tired, yes,” Cedric answered, pulling off a smile which seemed rather fake to you. But you couldn’t blame him, after all, you wouldn’t be able to handle riding a broom for several hours in a row.

“You’re going for it, aren’t you?”

“We need to make it this year!” he said a little louder and you gave him a smile, happy that he came alive again.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you freak!” you laughed. “You would sacrifice yourself for the sake of Quidditch, wouldn’t you?”

“That’s what captains do, huh?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

You both laughed now and Cedric seemed to go back to being that same cheerful lad you knew before, but something seemed off nonetheless. But you decided it was a thing to be discussed inside the castle.

Even though you insisted that he should have some time alone and get to rest, Cedric invited you to stay with him. You tried to object at first, but couldn’t resist his welcoming smile and gave up, stepping inside the room. There you placed yourself on the couch and grabbed a glass of pumpkin juice that magically appeared on the table in front of you — had nothing to do with Hufflepuff Common Room being next to the kitchens, of course.

Several minutes passed in silence while the two of you were enjoying the juice. You could feel, however, that Cedric was definitely way more tense than usual, and you were determined to learn why. Although, as you were about to ask the question, he decided to tell you that himself.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you… Seriously.”

“Wow. After the last time we talked “seriously”, we haven’t spoken for a week. I’m scared.”

But even though you tried to laugh the matter off, you were worried. It’s been a long time since you’d seen Cedric this concerned about something.

“It’s not that, I promise,” he said, heaving a deep breath and leaning back. The couch slightly creaked under his weight.

“Alright, I’m all ears than.”

After gathering his thoughts Cedric blurted out in one breath:

“I’m in love.”

“That’s… news,” you muttered in shock, staring at his confused face with an utterly surprised look in your eyes. “And who’s the one?”

“Cho,” he replied, looking away. You managed to notice the blush on his cheeks when he pronounced her name.

“Chang? Ravenclaw Seeker?” you asked, now shocked even more. Only after Cedric nodded, still staring into the ceiling, you were able to continue: “That’s definitely news.”

“She’s amazing,” he dreamily uttered, but quickly put on a serious expression, having seen your surprise. “What? Is it wrong?”

“No, no, what, wrong? You do you, Mr Lover,” you calmed him. “It’s just that I’m not used to such things coming from you, you know? You’re quite a hermit, no offense.”

“I? A hermit?”

“Yeah, you, a hermit. When was the last time you dated someone, may I wonder?”

“That’s why I’m asking you to help me!” Cedric almost shouted, but under weird looks given to him by a couple of third-years switched to whisper. “I want to ask her out.”

“Great! How am I supposed to help?”

“Well, any ideas… How should I ask? What am I supposed to do? I don’t have a lot of experience, you said it first!”

You laughed at how innocent Cedric sounded.

“Ced, come on! You’re the popular guy, I’m sure as soon as you come anywhere near her she will be like “take me right here right now”.”

“No, she’s not like that...” he said with a familiar dramy smile.

“Ah, of course, how could I forget?”

You rolled your eyes, seeing your best friend being completely, from head to toe, in love. You told him the truth, you weren’t used to seeing him like that at all. But someday it should’ve happened, right? And still, it was unusual.

“Just come up, say hi and ask, if she wants to go to Hogsmeade on Sunday. As simple as that. I’m sure as hell she’ll say yes.”

“That simple?”

Cedric seemed to be extremely surprised, if not in shock.

“That simple,” you reaffirmed your words, smiling, having seen how his face changed emotions in a span of seconds. “And what you though? That you need to jump off the Astronomy Tower?”

“I thought you girls love something fancy...”

“Not all of us, Ced, not all of us. And it was you who said she’s “not like that”.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” he wistfully sighed, biting his lower lip.

“I am. Now go to bed, seductress, you look awfully tired. Even I wouldn’t say yes had I seen you right now.”

“Rude!”

“Keep it, amigo!”

__________

It’s been a whole week since you had properly talked to Cedric. Sure, you saw each other every day, greeted and exchanged your latest news, but it wasn’t the same. You used to have a little tradition: every Saturday evening you came to the Great Lake and chilled there after a long week of classes and homeworks. Now you didn’t have that. Cedric always had an excuse not to go: “Cho and I are going to Hogsmeade, I’m helping Cho with Potions, Cho this, Cho that”... You started to think that you probably shouldn’t have helped him in the first place.

Once Cedric ignored your invitation to Hogsmeade — “I’m afraid Cho won’t like it”, — then declined your advice to ask her, and it was the last drop. During dinner you scribbled several words on a piece of parchment and sent it to fly to Cedric’s table. You attentively watched how he read it, raised his head and hesitantly nodded.

You exited the Great Hall with a satisfied but concerned smile on your face. Tonight you would finally talk to him, properly this time.

__________

“Couldn’t have picked a later hour, could you?”

“Oh, sorry, Mr Prefect. Get me to the headmaster.”

“Jokes aside, Y/N. What’s the matter?”

You scoffed, but your face was sad and it failed to remain unnoticed. Cedric’s expression changed immediately and he was ready to say something else when you started talking.

“So you really don’t see what’s wrong?”

“I… try to, but no… You’re upset though. I did something?”

“Oh Cedric… You did.”

You called him by his full name only when you were angry, and it was enough for him to start worrying even more.

“Tell me then, and I’ll make up for it, I promise.”

“I doubt it’s possible to make up for it… Ah, whatever. Cedric, do you really not understand that we’re hardly friends anymore?”

“What are you talking about? Of course we’re friends.”

Cedric was very obviously confused, and you once again made sure he wasn’t acting out of bad intentions. This fact made it harder to be angry at him, but you still were.

“We’re acquaintances, nothing more. We don’t talk like we used to. We never meet. Where did our evenings at the lake go? Where did our visits to Three Broomsticks go? Where did our early mornings on the quidditch field go?”

Even this short rant left you exhausted and you just helplessly waved your arms at the end. Cedric was clearly speechless. Wrinkles on his brow meant he wasn’t pleased either.

“Where did they go?”

And even when he found what to say, it was senseless.

“I don’t know. Maybe you can tell me?” Not letting him speak, you continued: “Oh wait, I know. Cho took all of them.”

It was a good strike, in the very spot. You could see that now Cedric was way less clueless.

“Cho? Merlin, Y/N, she’s my girlfriend! We’re dating, yes, but it doesn’t mean you’re any less of a best friend to me.”

“Actions speaks louder than words, Cedric, and yours aren’t that polite.”

“I mean, of course I spend time with her, but I’d spent it with you with same pleasure, honestly...”

“...Or you’re just too afraid to admit that we’re not best friends anymore.”

Cedric didn’t reply. You weren’t oblivious and saw that he understood everything. It was scary to say out loud, but he understood.

“What should I do to fix that?” he finally managed to voice, avoiding your eyes.

“You agree with me then?”

“Yes, I messed up and I keep doing it,” he raised his hands, defeated. “I thought about it now, and yes, I’m a big fool. Can I fix that?”

“Be the same guy I knew. Goof around, trip over flat floor, make my hair a mess, stain my whole face with cream from the breakfast pie. You can even push me into the Great Lake once, I won’t get angry. But only once!” Your faces lit up at one memory you were clearly referring to. “Be Ced, my kinda dorky Hufflepuff friend. Can you arrange that?”

“I think it’s in my power,” Cedric agreed.

He grabbed your cheeks and attempted to make you smile. You did the same and honestly, you looked like two fools. But now you recognised your fool in him.

The next day Cedric and Cho had a date at Hogsmeade. Sitting at the lake, you saw them heading back to the castle. Glad they didn’t notice, you shed a tear, remembering for another time that it was Saturday’s evening.

__________

Tag list: @padfootagain @giggleberts @starless-skyox @furmicl @coffeeismylife28

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric x reader #cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric diggory imagine #fanfiction #imagine

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veotis-the-jewel-of-the-ocean · 6 years

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☾♔; 31.07.2018

☾♔; Tasha

☾♔; @veotis-the-jewel-of-the-ocean

☾♔; @serveorburn

☾♔; mod(s): @livesinabluebox @sighsethereally

▬ Set Requirement: Doesn’t matter, just make sure it has your faceclaim. Other than that, make whatever kind of thing you want! Square, rectangle, moodboard, magazine cover, whatever you want my nerds!

♛ Daenir Échon ♛

pronounced: Day-nir

♛ B A S I C⠀S T A T S ♛

▬ Full Name: Daenir Échon

▬ Nickname(s): Dae

▬ Title(s) and/or alias(es): The High Sorcerer

▬ Age: Roughly 27 summers give or take a few years

▬ Gender: Male

▬ Species: Witch - Isahor

▬ Occupation: Sorcerer of Veotis {currently} // Assassin/Witch Hunter {formally}

▬ Kingdom of Birth: Calia

▬ Kingdom of Residence: Veotis

♛ P H Y S I C A L⠀A P P E A R A N C E ♛

▬ Face Claim: Matthew Daddario

▬ Hair: Black

▬ Eyes: Blue-Grey

▬ Height: 6 ft 1

▬ Body: Scared perfection

▬ Any Scars/ Marks?: Several scars over his body, the most prominent of those are the shiny silvery marks around his wrists

▬ Any Tattoos/ Piercings?:

- A black and white dragon entwined over his heart

- Black wings across his back

- Protective runes across his ribs

- An unknown symbol on his upper left thigh

- A magical brand on his neck given to him by his mother

▬ Other: Nothing for now

♛ P E R S O N A L I T Y ♛

▬ Overview: Headstrong, stubborn and full of snarky wit and dry sarcasm, Daenir prefers to push people away to keep them from getting underneath the shields he has perfected over the years. Whilst generally he looks out for himself and acts like he’s been put out when people gather for his attention, underneath all those layers, Daenir does enjoy helping people. Due to years of abuse at the hands of his father, and the years of his imprisonment thanks to his mother, Daenir is known by the court to suffer moments of mental instability. Despite this, the King and the Advisory Council hold the man in high esteem due to his years of service to the kingdom and former apprenticeship to Master Cedric. Deanir is a warrior and most of the time is known to have unshakable focus in all of his tasks with little to distract him. His singular drive is to do better for the world he lives in even if he can only do it one bit at a time.

▬ Strengths: His stubbornness - but it can also be a weakness; his inability to give up on someone or something; his desire to make things safer for witches

▬ Weaknesses: Hates, and I mean HATES dark places, has to sleep with the fire going due to his imprisonment; extreme awkwardness in social situations; overuse of his powers can result in severe dehydration, often occurs when he spends too long in combat; inability to share his feelings to avoid being called weak

▬ Habits and Quirks: Daenir has been known to spark when he is annoyed or frustrated, likewise he can lose control of his lightning based abilities when in a state of arousal

▬ Likes: Hot places, warm weather, soft music, reading, painting, drawing, being left alone when he needs to be, gardening, tea of all kinds, libraries, old stories, archery, horse riding, knives, outsmarting stupid nobles, Aldir and Ryo, his apprentice and likewise his former teacher, spicy food {the hotter the better}, traveling

▬ Dislikes: Animals that have no point, being called damaged, being coddled - he is NOT a child, foolish religious people, having other’s ideals forced onto him, discrimination, fighting for the sake of fighting, moronic little assholes, people who use position to gain what they want, bullies, being touched without permission, flirting {if you want someone, just fucking tell them stupid}, sweet food, cold weather, snow, parties

▬ Hobbies: Painting, drawing, collecting old tomes, pissing off his parents, building models, gardening, brooding spectacularly, outsmarting stupid nobles

▬ Character Tropes: Dark and Troubled Soul; When Dad Met Mum; Abusive Parent; Byronic Hero; The Quiet One; The Wild Card, Parental Issues; Parental Abandonment; Daddy Issues; Mum Is A Bitch {if that is not a trope is bloody well should be}, Big Brother Instinct; Bi The Way; Archer Archetype; Death Seeker; Jerk With A Heart of Gold; Friend To All Children; Tall, Dark and Handsome; Tall, Dark and Snarky; Badass Bookworm

▬ Additional Information: Will literally lose his shit at being called an animal. Daenir spent twenty years of his life being likened to an animal by his father and his mother, the first one to treat him as an actual human being was Cóven VI

♛ A B I L I T I E S ♛

▬ Pyrokinesis: an ability often associated with war. Most witches born in Veotis are born with an affinity for either earth, air or water, Daenir’s ability with fire is frightening and at the same time another way to show that he is not a Veotis native.

▬ Electrokinesis: Daenir barely has a grasp on this ability as it is. It is mostly responsible for the tangled, chaotic mess the sorcerer calls hair. He can create, shape and manipulate electricity

▬ Hardening: This skill is inherited from Daenir’s father, whilst he hates the man, the skill itself allows him to turn his body into a living weapon. There is one weak spot but Daenir has only told one person and that is the King

▬ Armed and Unarmed Combat: the skill is self explanatory but Daenir excels more with knives and the bow than he does with a sword

▬ Able to fumble his way through any conversation with a shy smile and incomprehensible mumbling

♛ F A M I L Y ♛

Fucked up. There is no other way to describe it. Feredir and Malrin consummated their love to hate your guts relationship after a drunken encounter in the middle of a storm. The Witch Hunter stole away with the child when he was barely a week old and turned him into a weapon that hunted his own kind. Feredir wants his weapon back, Malrin wants her son dead, Daenir just wants to train his apprentice, keep witches safe and stay loyal to the king.

▬ Feredir Havel || 49 || Father || Karl Urban || Witch Hunter

If ego had a proper name it would be Feredir Havel. He is a prideful, manipulative, charismatic man who takes pleasure in twisting others to his cause. He dislikes witches and the freedom they have, often taking great joy in killing or imprisoning them.

▬ Malrin Échon || 46 || Mother || Charlez Theron || Head of the Witches Guild

Meaning lady crowned with gold. Malrin is the Head of the Witches Guild and seen as the most powerful witch in Veotis second to none until Daenir comes into his full power. She dislikes the fact that he can outdo her in just about anything without trying, the fact he spent the better part of six years actively killing and hunting his own kind might have something to do with it. Malrin cursed her son to hear the dying cries of those he has killed for the rest of his days

▬ Caladwin Échon || Deceased || Sister || Kaya Scodelario || Witch

She’s dead, nothing else to say

♛ B I O G R A P H Y ♛

Born the only son of Feredir Havel and Malrin Échon, Daenir spent the first years of his life being nothing but a tool to his father’s endgame. Feredir and Malrin consummated their love to hate your guts relationship after a drunken encounter in the middle of a storm resulting in the birth of Daenir a month earlier than normal. When he was barely a week old, Fereldir had his hunters kidnap his son and bring the baby back to Calia where he would spend the next fourteen years being raised as an ‘unofficial’ weapon to hunt his own kind.

Daenir committed his first hunt when he was a few months shy of fifteen, whilst it was widely known that the hunt went spectacularly wrong in every way possible, the truth being much bloodier than that. False intelligence was given which resulted in the death of a young witch and her parents, an act that would only serve to fuel the boy’s hatred of his own kind {and come back to haunt him years later}.

Whilst Feredir kept up his charade as a respectable Witch Hunter who kept to the law, he continually sent Daenir out into the world in order to rid the world of ALL witches. This carried on until Daenir was eighteen and came to the attention of his mother, now head of the Witches Guild in Veotis. Daenir killed the wrong witch who happened to be his half-sister and ended up spending the next year running from the wrath of his own mother, a woman he didn’t even know.

The hunt ended back in Veotis in the heart of the Aedis Forest where Daenir was taken down by the combined effort of the entire Guild. A curse was laid upon Daenir to hear the cries of his victims until the day he died, and then he was locked away into the darkness of Aedis Prison with a single warden who would be rotated by Malrin every month. Whilst the woman didn’t want her son to die just yet, she didn’t want him to be free to go about his life like he hadn’t caused harm to his own kind. That was her revenge for the death of her dear daughter.

When Cóven and his royal guard found the prison hidden in the Aedis Forest, Daenir was near feral from being chained and locked away for so long. With the assistance of Cedric Ebe, Cóven was able free him from the magical bindings and take him back Aecor and the Summer Palace to try and help bring him back from insanity, helping him heal along the way.

With the assistance of Lady Helaena from Astronia and her apprentice Lady Everleigh, Daenir was able to come back to the world a bit at a time until his mind could function properly. After four years in darkness, he found it hard to trust anyone, first opening up to Cóven and then Cedric after he took up an apprenticeship with the Royal Sorcerer. The feeling of trusting someone was so unfamiliar but the knowledge that he actually belonged somewhere was something that Daenir accepted even if his mind told him no.

After meeting his mother in the middle of an Advisory Council meeting, Daenir was forced to come clean with his past, he half expected to be thrown back inside the darkness of the prison and his own mind. Instead of rejection, Daenir found acceptance from both his master’s and soon found himself inheriting the title of Royal Sorcerer when Cedric decided to retire. During the years he has been active in his current role, Daenir has taken to trying to right many of wrongs committed in his earlier years and bring peace to the world a little bit at a time.

♛ O T H E R ♛

▬ Has a pet Nyrk gifted to him by his father when he was a child. Aldir {named after the God of War} is incredibly aggressive to everyone but Daenir and the King. Ryo, a rare Panthera in Veotis, was a gift given to him by the former King, the beast is loyal and far more friendly than his counterpart Aldir

▬ Daenir is basically Fenris and I will fight you if you say otherwise

#veotis #daenir Échon #tasha's work

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elliemarchetti · 6 years

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Fremione Fic part 3

I apologize for the long absence but I was traveling with my best friend and I did not have access to a wi-fi for a week. Also, I have the bad habit of not saving what I write until the first draft is over, the computer I'm writing from is stuffed and I've lost all the fanfiction I was writing. If this is some kind of karma, I want to know what I have done to the world to deserve it. In any case, here is the third, troubled chapter of my fanfiction.

Words: 1549

Hermione and Ginny entered the kitchen, pale and swollen with sleep.

"Why do we have to get up so early?" Ginny asked, rubbing her eyes. Hermione did not even try to look at the other diners.

"We have to take a walk." Mr. Weasley answered, joyful and Hermione bitterly regretted accepting Fred's offer.

Breakfast did not improve at all, with Mrs. Weasley screaming at the twins for trying to get as many candies away from home as possible. Hermione wanted to say something, but she had neither the strength nor the right to do it, no matter how unpleasant it was. The atmosphere, when they left, was tense, with Mrs. Weasley still altered and the twins who did not even say goodbye before going out the door and through the dark courtyard. Hermione followed them, sure she was not in Mrs. Weasley's graces, and was amazed at how cold the air was. The moon still shone in the sky, only a strip of a dark greenish tint on the horizon signaled the imminent arrival of dawn. They walked along the wet avenue of Ottery St. Catchpole, the village they had to cross to get to Stoatshead Hill, where the Portkey was. If before Harry and Mr. Weasley had chatted amiably, making the journey less heavy, now the silence had fallen, broken only by the sound of their steps, making that walk more like a procession than anything else. Furthermore, Hermione was freezing. When Fred saw her shiver for the umpteenth time, he took off the heavy sweater he wore, and silently handed it to his friend. Hermione did not even have the strength to smile at him, imagine thanking him in words! The breath was already beginning to fail her and when they began to climb up the hill, Hermione tripped over into hidden rabbit dens and slipped on scraps of earth. Fred stood next to her, ready to catch her and stop her from falling face into mud. With each breath, the air seemed to penetrate like a blade in Hermione's chest, and at the same time, it was never enough. The muscles of her legs were burning madly, when they finally reached a clearing flat. With horror, however, she discovered that it was not over yet, and let Fred drag her along with George in search of the Portkey. Her presence was not very helpful, and she kept wondering why Mr. Weasley did not draw it to him with a spell. However, after just a couple of minutes, a tall, brown-bearded man, who must have been a friend of Mr. Weasley's, yelled at him that he found it, and so they stopped looking, and everyone approached Amos Diggory, and his son Cedric, a handsome boy in his seventeen years who, for his misfortune, had beaten Gryffindor in the first league match of the previous year, attracting on him the infamous Weasley Twins hatred.

"It’s been a long way, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked, and Hermione would have had a lot to say about that crazy trip, but she remained silent, even as Mr. Weasley introduced her as a friend of Ron's, even while hanging on Fred's arm, and even when Mr. Diggory gave them a significant look. In any case, the attention remained on them for very little, as Mr. Weasley also introduced Harry, and Amos, like anyone else, seemed to go crazy at the idea of being in front of who, when he was still a child, had killed Lord Voldemort.

"It must be almost time." said Mr. Weasley quickly, probably to change the subject, and finally he turned to Harry and Hermione, and explained to them that they only had to touch the Portkey, that even a finger would be enough. With difficulty, because of the swollen backpacks, all nine tightened in circles around the boot that Amos Diggory held in his hand, while a cold breeze caressed the top of the hill, making Hermione cringe further. Who knows what would have thought, a Muggle, seeing that scene. Mr. Weasley even started counting down.

It all happened in a moment. It was like being a fish caught on a hook: her feet came off the ground, and Hermione felt Fred and Harry on either side of her, shoulder to shoulder, and they all darted in a howl of wind and swirling color. Her forefinger was glued to the boot as if dragged by a magnet, and then, without warning, her feet abruptly touched the ground, Harry nearly dropped on her, and Fred grabbed her before both his and George’s knee gave up on them. Hermione hurried to her feet and studied the deserted strip of foggy moor where they had come. In front of them was a pair of tired, grumpy-looking wizards, who hastily greeted Mr. Weasley and gave them extremely vague directions as to where the camp was located, looking at everyone with a certain disdain. So they set out on the deserted moor, unable to see much through the mist, and after about twenty minutes they finally saw a small stone house near a gate; on the door there was a man, who looked perplexed at the hundreds and hundreds of tents erected on the side of a large field that rose gently towards a dense forest that covered the horizon. A single glance was enough for Hermione to understand that he was the only true Muggle within a radius of several miles. When he heard them coming, he turned to look at them, and Mr. Weasley's friendliness was useless against his suspects.

"Foreign?" asked Mr. Roberts. Hermione was the quickest to answer, and confirmed his theory. Obviously, however, her words would have been useless, with the bizarre group that she brought below. So it was that, to her horror, she saw a wizard appear from nowhere in a pair of knickerbockers. He aimed his wand at the head of the Muggle and sharply pronounced a spell that made Mr. Roberts's eyes vacuous and smoothed his eyebrows, replacing his suspicious look with one of blissful indifference. Hermione had to look away and buried her face in Fred's chest. She knew it was right that way, but she could not stop thinking that one day or another, a wizard would have decided that her parents knew too much and, without too much qualms, would have made sure that they forgot everything about the Wizarding World, including her.

They were on the Tribune of Honor when Mr. Malfoy's eyes rested on Hermione, who blushed but did not look down, returning his gaze firmly. Fred almost jumped when he felt Hermione's fingers searching for his, hoping it would give her the strength and comfort she could not find in herself. Fred tightened his grip, hoping the girl would understand that he would be willing to punch that racist family, if only this made her feel better. When they left, a bad comment escaped Fred’s lips, but no one around them seemed to hear him, besides Hermione, who smiled gratefully. Even when Ludo arrived, starting the presentation of the mascots, Hermione did not let go of his hand, but rather, intertwined her fingers with his, looking everywhere but not at Fred’s face, who instead noticed that the girl was blushed further. The first mascots were the Veela of Bulgaria. They were the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but he was puzzled when they began to dance and everyone seemed to fall into a kind of crazy trance. He exchanged a perplexed glance with Hermione as they watched Ron try to tear the clover to his hat and Harry, who had partly climbed over the forum wall. Wrathful screams filled the stadium; the crowd did not want the Veela to leave and Fred was afraid it might start a riot at any moment. Then Ludo introduced the Irish mascot, and the spirits subsided with the arrival of a large green and gold comet that came darting into the stadium.

"Excellent!" Ron roared when the comet turned into a giant clover composed of leprechauns who threw gold coins to the entire public. As soon as he regretted it, Fred left Hermione's hand and tried to grab as many coins as possible. The huge clover finally dissolved, and the leprechauns glided across the field, on the other side of the Veela, and sat cross-legged to enjoy the game.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Bulgarian Quidditch National Team!" Ludo exclaimed, announcing one by one the names of the players, and then doing the same with the Irish ones.

"And here comes to you, live from Egypt, our referee, the acclaimed president of the International Quidditch Federation, Hassan Mustafa!" Ludo exclaimed, referring to a small and thin magician, completely bald but with a thick mustache, dressed in pure gold.

"We met him!" Fred exclaimed enthusiastically, more to Hermione than to Harry. Hermione smiled, but probably had not heard a word.

"You should have been there, you would have liked it." he muttered, to himself and then back to focus his attention on Mustafa who mounted on the broom and opened the box containing the Quaffle, the Bludgers and the golden Snitch. He was sure Hermione had not heard, but it did not matter: he needed to say it.

#fremione fic #fremione #fred weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #ginny weasley #harry potter #george weasley #percy weasley #charlie weasley #bill weasley #arthur weasley #molly weasley #amos diggory #cedric diggory #quidditch #ludo bagman #hassan mustafa #victor krum

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