#danny gibson

[catohphm]

Danny ought to have his family adopt Sebastian and Anne Sallow and help them move out of Feldcroft so they can be rid of their prick Uncle Solomon. He shouldn't have been legally responsible for his niece and nephew if he is not going to care for them properly. My OC grew up in an abusive household as a young kid and he can warn his mum about the signs that something isn't quite right in the Sallow home, with Ominis vouching for him. Neither Danny, Ominis nor Rue (Danny's mom) want to see Anne and Sebastian get ripped apart because of the abuse they face from Solomon. It may not be physical, but there are other forms such as emotional going on, and no forms of abuse are okay. Sebastian and Anne deserve a much better home where they are cared for in happiness. It doesn't matter if their guardians are blood-related or not.

The quill is mightier than the Killing Curse.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #danny gibson #solomon sallow #abuse cw

[boxdstars]

seventh year in sepia ft. leta, mara, and danny!

a little sketch gift for two of my buds, @charmedslytherin and @catohphm who are some of the most incredibly sweet people i’ve met on this entire hellsite. love you both dearly <3

#hogwarts legacy #leta rosier #amara ambrose #danny gibson #hphl #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy mc #hphl oc #hphl mc #my art

[hphmmatthewluther]

Weekend With the Grays - Day 3: The Gazebo Cocktail Party

Thanks once again to @endlessly-cursed for organising this and for Prim! Thank you also to @camillejeaneshphm for Helen, Noah and Lillian, @catohphm for Danny, and @mjs-oc-corner for Bella!

"Oh, Atticus, get under here with us." Fred insisted, his arm around Helen's as they walked the Gazebo with the others. Atticus turned around to face him, still looking despondent, and shook his head.

"I am fine, thank you." he said,shivering a little. "I've got my...oh." He reached up for the hat he had worn upon arriving. It wasn't on his head, and the snow was nestling itself within his hair, giving him an admittedly quite humorous-looking salt-and-pepper hairstyle.

"You never were one for hats, Doherty." Helen chuckled, her arm raised slightly as she kept the snow off of her and her husband, "You must have gone out without it on instinct."

Atticus scowled, but relented, walking over next to Fred, and wiping the snow off of his hair with his hands. Fred happened to look over as he did so, and saw strange black splotches moving along them. "Doing more shadow magic, I take it?"

Atticus looked over at Fred, then at his hand, wiling the dark splotches to fade away. "We are all at liberty to use our powers how we like. I can experiment with mine, Helen can command the weather to be however she likes, and you can patent and sell yours to the masses."

Fred shifted uncomfortably, but Helen cut in before he could respond. "You disapprove of how we've made our fortune?"

"No. I disapprove of the fact that there aren't more controls on it. I'm glad that you've decided to have it be Ministry controlled, but I do wonder if they'll give it the attention it deserves-"

"Alright, alright, let's not get into politics." Fred said, raising his arms above his head to hush both Atticus and Helen. "We can talk about this later. The last thing we want to do is start a debate around the Ministry...at least, right now." He suggested, gesturing to the Gazebo whose steps they now climbed.

"No, I suppose that would be a disaster." Atticus said, smirking. "Thank you for letting me enjoy the use of your ancient magic, Helen." he said, moving forward and into the Gazebo to greet the others.

Fred and Helen did the same, before walking to the side and looking out over the snowy estate. "He seems a lot better now. I guess actually doing some dancing was good for him. He seemed to enjoy dancing with you, too."

"Well, I can't take all the credit." Helen said, smirking. "Prim helped as well. I overheard them talking about that plant he gave her, remember? Back when everyone kept spreading rumours about them being a thing?"

Fred nodded, leaning on the wood of the Gazebo. "That certainly was a wild time. Seemed like everyone had rumours flying around about them."

"Considering half of us had ancient magical powers, and some of us flew to France and back one night, it's not surprising our love lives were scrutinised." Helena observed, "It's why I love how you can stop time...give us a place nobody can see us. Atticus and Prim could have used that back then." She gestured over to them, as they talked to Danny Gibson and his partner Bella, who had just entered the Gazebo, Atticus looking far less standoffish than he had a few hours ago.

"Yeah...especially that time I saw them kiss." Fred said, in a lowered tone.

Helen looked down at him, incredulously. "You're kidding." she said, bluntly.

"It was just one time, don't get any ideas-" Fred began, going as red as his hair, "Apparently they'd just decided to wrap up...whatever it was they had going on, and decided to so like that...and with a plant, I guess."

Helen's smile softened. "You know...he asked me and Lillian to help him with that. He wanted to get the floriography right, and we were the ones he trusted for it. I remember it well: Zinnia, symbolising respect and honour. Sometimes I wonder if maybe we should've messed with him and sent a different message."

Fred gasped jokingly. "How awful! I can't believe you'd consider something like that!" he said, laughing.

"I suggested Yellow Hyacinths and Lavender, meaning jealousy and humility. Lillian shut that idea down quickly, though. She said nobody deserved to have Primrose Gray angry at them for no good reason."

Fred nodded, making eye contact with Atticus briefly. He smiled. Atticus smiled back, before returning to the conversation with Danny and Prim, something about how dark and creepy Ravenclaw Tower used to get late at night. "Probably for the best, then."

Helen nodded, bringing a hand up to wipe her eye. "Yeah, probably." She turned around, letting Atticus enjoy the party unwatched, as they both looked out at the falling snow, which landed on the many dormant plants on the estate, including a large bush of Zinnia flowers.

#wwtgsolstice23 #hp victorian era #atticus doherty #fred graham #helen walsh #lillian miller #primrose gray #danny gibson #bella mcintyre

[celestial--sapphic]

Hi Celeste!! I'm glad to see more appreciation for Poppy and people who ship her with MC! My MC Danny is also shipped with Poppy, but I could see him being paired with Samantha, Imelda or even Grace. Honestly though and rest assured, I don't really see him being much into the dating scene. It's more so that romance finds him instead of him finding it. Danny just wants to enjoy life at Hogwarts, he has had enough crap as a kid, dealing with a nasty prick father who his mother had to go through a lot of swamp muck to divorce and get away from. I saw you were sharing some info about your OC and that she was shipped with Poppy, so I thought I'd chime and say hi! Hope you are well and thanks for the follow ^^

danny sounds like such a sweetie!!

what's his and poppy's story 👀 would love to hear more about them. ravenclaw/hufflepuff pairings are a special kind of cute (so soft)

#celestialasks #danny gibson #hogwarts legacy #poppy sweeting

[carewyncromwell]

Hi Tory! I'm sorry to hear about your illness, I hope you get well! *virtual huggos to you*

For the ask game, Danny asks Jacko "what is your take on the idea of found family?"

((OOC: Thank you, Cato! Trust me when I say the well wishes do mean a lot! xoxo))

[Jackson smiles fully at this.]

Jackson: "Why, I find it empowering, certainly! Truly, that is the joy of meeting so many diverse and interesting people -- admiring the beauty of the prettiest of emeralds and rubies while looking for a diamond? And when one finds such a diamond, well...that's truly something to celebrate. They can sparkle and shine and give you hope, even when your life and surroundings bring you naught but coal. After all, dost not the Bard himself accent the true value of a friend, in dark times? 'But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, all losses are restored and sorrows end.'"

[Jackson's ocean-blue eyes soften a bit as he reaches out and claps Danny on the shoulder.]

Jackson: "I am, indeed, most fortunate -- to know sincere caring not just from my dear mother and grandfather, but my closest peers, as well."

Character Ask!

#character ask #ask jackson #jackson knightly #danny gibson #personal

[theguythatdraws]

If Danny were in a modern AU, he'd probably have a classic American muscle car.

I bet he'd have an old school Camaro

#danny gibson #hogwarts legacy #mc #harry potter

[smarti-at-smogwarts]

What does Theo think of her friendship with Danny?

Okay so I had to re read his profile and think about it a bit but on the whole I mean Theo's very grateful for all her friends and Danny would definitely fall under that! She's also generally a protective person so she'd see him as someone to protect too like she does all her friends.

I think she'd find it funny when thinking back that the whole "appearing serious" would work on Theo at first ( shes a bit of a chaos gremlim) and then she learned Danny didn't think anything by it. And then as they get to know each other they're just joking around and theos just "i cant believe i thought you were serious" lol

They're both pretty loyal and I think that's be the thing Theo notices. I think she'd sometimes try to get him to have some fun. Also they would bond over Quidditch!

They have similar pasts with an abusive parent though I'm not sure how forthcoming they'd both be about it maybe it's just something they just Get about each other? I think she'd feel like Danny's someone who understands why she hates going home and why she eventually cuts contact with her mother.

Theo would come to see him as a very dear friend I think and maybe steal his clothes sometimes.

#my answers #other ppls mcs #my mcs #hphl #theo abott #danny gibson #cleaning out my inbox as self care

[endlessly-cursed]

𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒂 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙩

"𝙄 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙜 , 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚."

BASICS

Full Name: Alexandra Victoria Somerset

Age: Differs from the events 

Birthday: 25th of December, 1903

Weight: 52kg 

Height: 1.55m 

Faceclaim: Sarah Bolger 

HOGWARTS

House: Ravenclaw 

Wand: Cedar wood, unicorn hair, 11 inches 

Whenever I meet one who carries a cedar wand, I find strength of character and unusual loyalty. My father, Gervaise Ollivander, used always to say, ‘you will never fool the cedar carrier,’ and I agree: the cedar wand finds its perfect home where there is perspicacity and perception. I would go further than my father, however, in saying that I have never yet met the owner of a cedar wand whom I would care to cross, especially if harm is done to those of whom they are fond. The witch or wizard who is well-matched with cedar carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them.

Amortentia (what they smell): eau de cologne, mangoes, rosewater, cherry wood cream, victoria sponge and satin 

Best class: Charms 

Worst class: Flying 

Wanted career: N/A 

Quidditch: Doesn’t play 

Extracurriculars: Duelling club, sphinx club 

FAMILY

Mother: Primrose Sabrina Gray 

Alexandra and her mother have a very special bond, her being her first daughter, and the one who’s more like her, she has a better time relating to her, and when she got over her teenage mood, the two of them became the best of friends and allies, a bond that she sadly did not share with her sisters. 

Father: Malcolm Stolberg-Burke ( @gaygryffindorgal​ ) 

Alix loves her father very much, and the two of them also share a unique bond, for she was his first daughter and for a while, she was his baby. Though she disagrees with many things, she loves him nevertheless and the two of them had a good relationship, for he saw his wife in Alix in her. He also educated her as the Countess of Harrendale. 

Sibling(s): Lenore Callista Somerset 

Two years younger than her, Alix loves her sister very much and often teases her with tenderness how alike their father is, often calling ‘Dear Father’s Miniature’. Nevertheless, they were very supportive on one another and she was one of her bridesmaids at her wedding day. 

Older Brother: Vincent Alexander Somerset 

The eldest son and heir of the estate, though their initial educations were different, he was the sibling she was the closest to and saw as a brother and not a child to take care of, especially when their father was called to the Great War, which would be eventually called World War I. During Hogwarts, they were each other’s confidantes in matters their parents were left out and always held each other in high esteem. 

Middle Sister: Jocelyn Cassandra Somerset 

Youngest Sister: Gia Estelle Somerset 

Jocelyn was the second youngest and was often overlooked, however, Alix did her best to be there for her sister and even was made Maid of Honour in her wedding and she became a mother figure to her

Younger sister: Morwenna Beatrix Somerset

Wenna was a wild child and, though she did not relate to her, she thought it was good that she got out and saw the world, envying how easy it was for her to be so carefree and take off anywhere she wanter. In a way, Alix always wanted to be more like her, but her duty waa always in the way.

Seen as the baby of the family, she was sheltered and overprotected from everybody and Alix saw her as her baby to take care of, even when she married at the age of 22. She loved her greatly and tried her best to be there for her in her youth despite the age gap. 

Uncle(s): William Berkeley @beloved-bucky​ Henry of Alderly @gaygryffindorgal​ Danny Gibson @catohphm​ (all surrogate uncles) 

Her surrogate uncles (for her mother had no surviving brothers, hence all of them were considered her brothers) were very important in her life, though whom she shared a closer bond was her godfather William Berkeley, but she still loved her uncles very much. 

Aunt(s): Estelle Stolberg-Burke ( gaygryffindorgal) Nadia Erbland ( @gcldensnitch​ ), Niamh Kelly ( @unfortunate-arrow​ ), Siobhan Llewellyn ( @kc-and-co​ ), Roxanne Haley ( @beloved-bucky​ ) among others 

Alexandra grew up with a good amount of women whom were like sisters to her mother, not to mention her paternal aunt who spoiled her often. The one she bonded the most, though, was her godmother Niamh, whom she admired for making a name for herself before setting down and held her advice and counsel in high regard. Because of these incredible women, Alexandra grew up with a varied and rich role models that helped her shape herself as a woman with every trait of one of them. 

Friends: Arabella Seymour (best friend) more TBD 

Ari and Alix clicked from a very early age, much to their mother’s delights, and there was a time where she tried to set her up with her older brother Vincent, though that experiment failed. The two of them grew up together, their mothers being lost sisters and hoping for their children to become as good friends as them, and they were right. The two of them never lost contact, a constant figure on their lives. 

Significant Other: Francis Nero Fersen, Earl of Helwater 

Alexandra met the young lord during a ball, and she thought him a handsome and agreeable gentleman despite being on thirteen. He was the source of her happiness during the war and in 1921, three years after the war, they decided to get engaged to marry when Alexandra reached the age of 22. And so, in 1928, they got married, and a year later their first child, George, named after the king. They’d have four more children together. They had a happy, domestic and loving life, and went on to be very much loved among peers and the people of England alike. 

PERSONALITY

Three Qualities: Poised, logical and kind 

Three faults: Stubborn, proud, quick-tempered 

Guilty pleasure: German sweets 

Writing hand: Left 

Zodiac sign/other personality trait: Capricorn 

FAVOURITES

Colour: Blue, pastel green, white and gold 

Composer/singer: Tchaikovsky, Verdi and Johann Strauss 

Food: Boiled potatoes 

Family member: Her aunt Nadia 

Location in the world: Mykonos, Greece 

Holiday: Christmas 

Hobbies: Reading, ballet, duelling, baking, playing the pianoforte and the harp, singing and practising spells 

MISC

Of the women of her family, she was the last one to attend a debutante ball in England before its dissolution in the 1950s, who was presented to Queen Mary of Teck, consort of King George V, whom she gained favour and was her personal favourite debutante 

She also became a nurse during WWII with her sisters, making of Winbourne per request of her brother the Viscount of Winbourne, also a refuge for any possible victim of the totalitarisms on the wine cellar and Winbournshire, the closest village to the estate. 

She was also the one to train the next Viscountess and sister-in-law, Margaret Taylor ( @camillejeaneshphm​ ) so she could fill into her mother’s shoes should her time come. 

She was also her father’s secretary and when he started showing signs of old age, she helped him out in the estate with her children, especially the youngest, whom he was besotted with. 

She was a fashion icon on the zone of Winbourne and often eclipsed the Alderlies and Bartons, cousins of theirs through her great-aunt Olympia Somerset, who married the Duke of Burlingham in the 1830s 

Her home through marriage, Helwater, was bombed by the Nazis by suggestion of the scorned Lord Archibald, rival of her parents, who moved to Germany after being humiliated by her mother, and she and her children barely escaped with their lives. The testimonies of the Viscountess and Alix were crucial in Nuremberg, alongside other witnesses, which led to his execution and stripping of the duchy Buckingham, passing it to the closest non-Nazi relative. 

She is Protestant, though she doesn’t often go to Church nor believes in it, but it is a part of her 

On her time as Countess, she promoted the arts, science, humanistics, the British patriotism in a good measure and women’s education, alongside philosophy, knowledge of the British history as a nation and some ideas of suffragettes. 

She died in 2004 of old age, outliving her beloved husband by three years, and was buried beside him and a bust of her golden years was risen in her memory on the family pantheon back at Winbourne by order of her brother’s descendant, Valentina Somerset 

#hogwarts legacy #fbawtft #fantastic beasts oc #oc: primrose sabrina gray #niamh kelly #william berkeley #danny gibson #nadia erbland #fankids #miniprofile #oc profile #character sheet #character profile #minor character profile #because i've been having an alix brainrot all week #here she goes #enjoy my hyperfixation lol #alexandra somerset #oc: vincent somerset #malcolm stolberg-burke #grayburke

[helenadurazzo]

Friendships

Danny and Cato belong to @catohphm

“Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?”

Zsuzsi Schröder, Danny Gibson, & Marie McKay: ~1890s

“I don’t see why not”

Erika Rath, Cato Reese, & Helena Durazzo: ~1980s

#hphl #hphm #Hogwarts Legacy #Hogwarts Mystery #Harry Potter Hogwarts Legacy #Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery #Zsuzsi Schröder #Danny Gibson #Marie McKay #Erika Rath #Cato Reese #Helena Durazzo

[catohphm]

Was surprised at how well Danny turned out in this piccrew!<3

#danny gibson #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc

[thatravenpuffwitch]

🧡 headcanon for Danny and Adelia?<3

Thanks for the treat! How about a Professor!Gibson and Selwyn-Ellison headcanon? 💙

Adelia and Danny continue the tradition of taking the Hogwarts Express on the first of September. They also take turns guiding the first years to the castle on the boats. Sometimes they grade their students assignments together in the library. Usually over tea ☺️

#adelia selwyn #danny gibson #trick or treat ask game

[mjs-oc-corner]

Any Halloween headcanons for Danny and Roxie?

oh this is so late😂

but, luckily enough, i do have a few! also, apologies for just now getting to this, it’s been a busy past few weeks.

tis the spooky season, after all

Roxie makes little halloween goodie bags for her friends, filled with all sorts of sweets from honeydukes, so of course Danny would receive one as well!

while Roxie isn’t the biggest fan of halloween, she’ll still celebrate with friends by helping decorate and carve pumpkins

if Danny is more into dressing up in costume, Roxie will join although it takes quite a bit of convincing (especially when she’s older because well…you know lol)

Roxie would 100% recruit Danny to help her bake halloween and fall-themed sweets

#headcanons #hphl #halloween headcanons #roxie haley #other peoples’ ocs #danny gibson #mutuals: cato🦉

[softhairedhotch]

i genuinely need him so bad

#thomas gibson #danny nyland #chicago hope

[celestial--sapphic]

Hi Celeste! I hope you've been having a good week? I've been loving the vibes Evelyn and her ship with Poppy give off! If this makes sense, it has the same energy Poppyanny aka Danny x Poppy has?

hello the lovely cato. my week has been good, submitted an essay i am very proud of early and had my yearly review at work which was super positive. also happy i got the next chapter of my fic out. so wins all round!

i think there a LOT of similarities between the two.

i feel like both danny and evelyn are both naturally more introverted, which is the kind of person poppy would gravitate towards more than someone who is really loud and over the top, imo. whilst i don't ship it, it is why i can totally see how people ship ominis with her (similar vibes). at the same time, don't get me wrong, i love a bit of imelda/poppy and the dynamic that could have (i am a sucker for the opposites attract trope) but in my heart of hearts, i definitely feel see needs a quieter, more introspective partner.

much like danny, evelyn does not have the best home life, which is definitely something which would naturally be a point of connection with poppy. i have only very lightly touched on evelyn's back story in my current fic, but it something i plan to explore a LOT more in future works set within the same headcannon/universe/timeline (whatever you want to call it).

<3

#evelyn caddel #celestialasks #danny gibson #hogwarts legacy

[hotchs-big-hands]

Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.

#thomas gibson #danny nyland #chicago hope #aaron hotchner

[carewyncromwell]

“Raise a glass to freedom, Something they can never take away, No matter what they tell you... (Someone will come running to take you home...) Raise a glass to all of us -- Tomorrow there'll be more of us, Telling the story of tonight!  (Out of the shadows...) The morning is breaking, (They'll tell the story of tonight!) And all is new -- (All is new) All is new! It's only a matter of time...”

~“Found/Tonight” by Ben Platt and Lin-Manuel Miranda

x~x~x~x

featuring Atticus Grimsley @cursebreakerfarrier and Bartholomew “Bat” Varney @carewyncromwell, and also referencing Danny Gibson @catohphm, Jackson Knightly, Rex Brokenshire, and Teddy, Adelia, Bertie, Violet, and Holly Selwyn-Ellison @thatravenpuffwitch​​

x~x~x~x

It was a significant event in 1915 when Atticus Grimsley finally retired from the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His successor ended up being one of Atticus’s former students, a well-respected Auror named Dan Gibson, who was soon embraced by the remaining faculty and students just as Atticus had been when he’d first arrived. Not that Atticus had had any doubts -- Danny had always been a very bright lad, and it was good to see him prosper. 

Even in retirement, however, Atticus continued to visit Hogsmeade village regularly. Although yes, it was a good way for him to catch up with his former work colleagues and students, all those who knew Atticus knew the main reason was so that Atticus could spend quality time with his closest companion -- the vampire called Bartholomew Varney. 

Varney, affectionately called “Bat” by just about everyone, was an oddity among his kind. Whereas many vampires actively tried to cloister themselves away in colonies far away from humans so as to not provoke their blood lust, Bat spent his days meditating in the attic of Honeydukes’ Sweet Shop and spent his nights wandering through the village. There he’d enjoy the atmosphere, go shopping, and even engage with those precious few students from the neighboring school who earned his esteem enough to merit a lecture in History of Magic or Potions. And, of course, he’d talk and laugh with “Grim,” as he affectionately called Atticus, for hours on end, well into the night and more warmly than with anyone else. Then they’d often leave the village together, still talking avidly, with Bat returning to Honeydukes in the wee hours of the morning, just before sunrise. 

They were a funny pair, Bat Varney and Atticus Grimsley -- funnier still, many thought, as Atticus got older and grayer and Bat remained ever youthful in look, even despite his hollowed-out eyes and sickly pale complexion. There were points where Bat almost treated Atticus like his aging uncle, in how he’d help his compatriot up out of his chair, and yet there were other times they acted almost like a couple, in how Bat would help Atticus put his coat back on, before going back outside. And still even throughout all that, regardless of the little gestures here and there, every day they smiled, laughed, teased, debated, entertained, and confided in each other like nothing less than the very best of friends. 

One of these many nights Atticus and Bat spent together was in the fall of 1927, in the height of the so-called “roaring 20′s.” Atticus had come down with a rather nasty chest cold, so Bat had swung by his cottage in Cumbria to cheer his friend up and brew him some proper Pepper-up Potions, along with the usual Sleeping Draught. Bat clearly took great pleasure in the opportunity to be useful to his old friend -- he was even humming to himself as he set about chopping up the mandrake root on Atticus’s kitchen counter. 

“Joy to the world -- the Lord is come!

Let earth receive her King...”

Atticus couldn’t fight back the tired grin winding its way onto his face. “Singing Christmas carols? Come now, Bat, we’ve not even passed October yet...”

“Mayhaps if Halloween developed some proper carols of its own, I could sing those instead,” Bat called over playfully from the next room. “Until then, I shall just have to enjoy the best time of the year a bit early -- goodness knows those two months will fly by soon enough...”

Atticus shook his head amusedly. It was something he regretted, though, when his sinuses began to pound behind his eyes angrily -- the older man flopped back down onto his pillows with a low groan. 

Bat strolled through the open door of Atticus’s room, a tray in his hands. Stacked haphazardly on it was a full tea service, a goblet with white steam coming off of it, and two leather-bound books. There was also a newspaper folded under Bat’s arm -- no doubt the most recent edition of the Evening Prophet -- and the familiar white stick of a Blood Pop sticking out of his mouth. 

“Hang in there, Grim,” he said with a slightly wry, but still rather gentle expression. “I’m coming.”

He put the tray, books, and newspaper down on Atticus’s side table and immediately moved to Atticus’s bedside, the steaming goblet in hand. 

“Can you sit up on your own?” he asked. 

Atticus coughed loudly, only to hold his head at the pain that shot through as a result. “Of course I can -- I’m not that infirm...”

The over-sixty-year-old man eased himself up into a seated position in bed. Atticus’s stubbornness only served to make Bat grin that bit more toothily around his Blood Pop. 

“What’s that smirk for?” Atticus asked with a soft grunt as he adjusted himself so he could lean back against his headboard. 

Bat’s grin only broadened. “Nothing. Just thinking you haven’t changed a bit.”

Atticus gave a loud, sarcastic laugh. “Rubbish. The very first thing out of your mouth when you arrived was that it looked like I’d grown another gray hair.” 

It was a comment that had hurt more than Atticus would’ve ever admitted. He hated knowing he was getting older. Ironically it was something he’d never paid much mind to before -- he’d found himself losing track of his own birthdays even back when he was still a boy -- but since befriending Bat, Atticus had become much more aware of it. The ex-professor knew that Bat had had to disappear from his loved ones’ lives, just to keep his sanity in the face of watching them shrivel up and die before his eyes while he stayed the same. And yet Bat was staying by Atticus, even as he aged. And once he’d retired, Atticus found himself somewhat adrift without the consistent, relentless schedule of teaching. It had certainly been nice to have so much time to himself at the start, but it was also a bit terrifying, to have this thing that had defined so much of his life suddenly be gone...to not be as quick or strong as he once was...to catch himself having to refresh himself on routine spells like Aguamenti, simply because he’d gotten out of the habit of using them...

With a chuckle, Bat sat down on the bed beside Atticus. He slid the smoking goblet into his hands, holding both of them around the piping-hot glass, no doubt to ensure Atticus had a secure grip on it before letting go. Atticus himself, however, couldn’t stop himself from staring down at their joined hands: Bat’s as strong as ever, no matter how sickly pale, over his own rosy, but age-spotted and wrinkled ones.

“You got it?” said Bat.

“Of course I’ve got it,” Atticus shot back, a bit more sourly than he meant, as he pulled his hands and the goblet out of Bat’s grip. “Stop treating me like an old man.”

He took a long sip, only to choke at the feeling of the hot liquid scalding his throat. Once he’d recovered, Atticus quickly finished it off, breathing in the steam as it poured through his stuffed-up nostrils, dissipating the mucus and phlegm clogging up his sinuses. 

“I’m the old man out of the two of us, Grim.” 

When Atticus looked up at Bat again, the vampire’s expression had lost the smile, becoming a bit more serious. The ex-professor averted his eyes down to the still smoking goblet. 

“Yes, obviously,” Atticus said uncomfortably, “but it doesn’t show on you. But I’m not that helpless, you know -- you don’t have to coddle me so much.”

“I’m doing that because you’re sick, Grim, not because you’re old.”

Bat considered Atticus for a moment. Then he gave a great suck to the Blood Pop in his mouth and, very tentatively, brought up a cold hand to Atticus’s forehead, so as to feel his temperature. 

Atticus flushed a very dark red. “...B-Bat?”

Bat’s scarlet eyes were locked on his hand on Atticus’s forehead rather than Atticus’s face as he gave another loud slurp to the Blood Pop in his mouth. 

“I won’t be able to stay into the morning,” he said lowly. “I’ve got to make sure you’ll be all right, before I leave.”

Atticus stared up at Bat, taken aback by just how serious he looked. He could feel his heart racing, and he tried desperately to will it into submission -- he knew Bat would be able to both hear and feel it, and the last thing he wanted was to needlessly antagonize his blood lust. 

“I’m all right, Bat,” he murmured, his voice coming out oddly breathy. “I am.”

Bat gave another loud suck to the Blood Pop in his mouth as he looked at Atticus. Atticus could see red creeping in on the edge of his friend’s eyes and could tell he was having trouble, being so close to him -- and yet he powered through all the same.

“You will be,” he said softly. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Smoothing Atticus’s graying, sweat-soaked bangs from his face, Bat then closed his eyes and forcibly removed himself, retreating to the corner of the room so he could take his pewter flask out of the inside of his waistcoat and take a long swig. Then, taking several deep breaths, he chucked the spent white stick from his mouth, took a fresh Blood Pop out of his pocket, and stuck in his mouth before sweeping back toward the kitchen. 

“I forgot,” he said in a noticeably brighter tone, “The eldest Honeydukes gave me some hazelnut chocolate scones for me to bring along for you.”

Atticus blinked. “Really? That was thoughtful of her.”

He shifted his gaze down to the tea service Bat had put out. The vampire had already prepared Atticus a cup of tea just the way he liked it, so the ex-professor gently picked it up and sipped it as he picked up the Evening Prophet next to the tray. 

The tea smelled lovely. His nose was already clearing up nicely. 

“Indeed,” Bat said amusedly. “She recalled your ‘voracious sweet tooth’ and thought you’d be the best test subject for her new recipe.”

Atticus bit back a laugh. “Considering the talent of the chocolatier in question, I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

Taking another sip of his tea, he perused the front page. The headline at the top, however, dimmed the light in his expression significantly. 

GELLERT GRINDELWALD TERRORIZES PARIS

Rally hosted by infamous Dark wizard ends in an explosion of magical flames only barely contained by French Aurors

‘First New York City and now Paris,’ thought Atticus grimly. ‘He’s getting bolder, if he feels brave enough to act out in such large cities, protected by such powerful magical ministries...’

“...working on a new caramel recipe, if you’d like to try that as well...”

“Mm,” said Atticus, only vaguely taking in what Bat had said. The article was holding his attention captive.

‘Thirty dead or wounded...a good chunk of them French Aurors who’d been purposefully lured to the event, just to be made an example out of...burned alive with a lethal casting of Protego Diabolica...’

The mental image of a dozen young men with faces like the wizards he used to work with at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement rippled over Atticus’s mind, making his stomach clench with nausea.

A clink to his left made Atticus straighten up sharply. Bat had returned with one of Madam Honeydukes’s scones and had just put the plate down on the tray beside the teapot. 

“You’re going to lose your appetite, reading that,” Bat said lowly. 

Atticus couldn’t tell if Bat was reproaching him or not -- it made him react a bit defensively. 

“I want to know what’s going on in the world, Bat, whether I’m sick or not.”

To Atticus’s surprise, Bat’s expression actually softened. 

“...I understand.”

He held out his hand expectantly.

“Hand me your cup -- I’ll pour you a new one.”

Atticus frowned. “I can do it my -- ”

“I know you can,” Bat cut him off smoothly. “But I want to do it.”

Atticus considered Bat for a moment, his eyes flitting down to his open hand. Then he relented, handing the empty cup over to Bat so that he could pour Atticus a new cup of tea and add in the proper amount of sugar and milk.

“It’s disgusting,” Atticus murmured.

Bat handed him the cup. “You mean Grindelwald and not the tea, I hope?”

“Yes, of course,” Atticus said quickly. His face then grew that bit grimmer. “...What he did to those Aurors -- to the city -- to his own supporters, just for not being loyal enough. And all in the name of ‘protecting’ the Wizarding World!” His blue eyes flared with anger. “It’s absolutely vile.”

Bat’s own scarlet eyes hardened significantly. “It is. As are all people like him.”

He picked up the empty potion goblet and strolled back out into the kitchen as if to go clean it out. 

“Men like Grindelwald...they don’t see anyone else as truly human, unless they align perfectly with their demented world view. Unless they’re wizards, or white, or Protestant, or Pureblood, or whatever else they’ve decided elevates them over everyone else. And, of course, unless they likewise ascribe to the idea that those people are inherently superior, for that reason...for what does it matter if you’re the perfect Pureblood specimen, if you’re a ‘blood traitor’ that sees other people as just as human as you are?”

Bat’s voice, however level and quiet, betrayed a lot of resentment and righteousness, smoldering just under the surface. 

Atticus’s eyes narrowed a bit as he nodded.

“For the life of me, I will never understand such people,” he said. “Though I suppose in a way, that’s probably a good thing.”

“It is,” agreed Bat. “One thing is for sure, though -- blokes like Grindelwald don’t stop until they’re forced to. Yes, the British Ministry was able to prevent Grindelwald from torching Paris, but they didn’t capture him. They didn’t incapacitate him. Therefore it’s only a matter of time before he does something else that’s much worse.”

Atticus took another sip of tea. As he did, however, something made him pause, his lips lingering on the cup. He skimmed the article one more time, before straightening up a bit to look out the doorframe toward the kitchen.

“...British Ministry?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow. “In the article, it says the French Aurors dealt with it.”

There was a very long silence. It was only punctured by the light clink and snap of Bat cleaning out the goblet and putting it back in the kitchen cabinet.

“Bat?” said Atticus.

Bat didn’t answer. Atticus’s frown deepened.

“Bat -- ”

“I heard you.”

Bat’s voice had become quieter and more detached. The sound troubled Atticus that bit more -- Bat only ever detached emotionally when he was upset. It made Atticus inch himself out of bed, supporting himself on the edge of his headboard as he straightened up and shuffled over to the doorframe. 

He found Bat cleaning the kitchen, wiping the counter clean with a wet rag. His eyes were focused solely on what he was doing, so it was clearly busy work more than anything: something to distract him. He did stiffen ever-so-slightly when Atticus approached -- no matter how quiet Atticus might try to be, he could never sneak up on a vampire. Not that Atticus cared -- he had no interest in getting the drop on Bat. Instead he merely walked over to stand beside his friend, leaning on the edge of the counter and watching his pale, gaunt face as he stubbornly refused to look at him. 

“Robert,” Atticus said a bit more gently. 

The name had a visible impact on Bat. It made something flutter through his expression -- something more youthful and almost vulnerable -- to the point that it was almost like a boyish flush, bringing life back into his palid cheeks. He turned to Atticus very abruptly, his scarlet eyes seeming oddly rounder than before. It made the sharp, bright light in them shine more handsomely than ever -- more like a young man, rather than that of an old soul trapped in a young frame. 

The handsomeness of Bat’s eyes didn’t falter even as he his expression turned much more evasive and hesitant. 

“...The French Aurors at the event were all slaughtered,” Bat admitted softly at last. “The Aurors who saved Paris were from our department, in Britain. ...It’s something Minister Fawley doesn’t want circulated, when the British Ministry has been trying to keep its activity in other countries quiet.”

Atticus’s eyebrows furrowed. “...Well, yes, I suppose that’s understandable -- but if that’s true, then how are you aware of it? If you’ve heard of it from an outside source, then clearly it’s already being circulated -- ”

Bat looked Atticus straight-on in the eye, and Atticus’s words died in his throat. His eyes widened slowly.

“...They told you?” he whispered.

Bat inclined his head in something of a short nod, his scarlet eyes drifting away, up onto the kitchen window.

“But -- ” Atticus stammered, “ -- but if the Ministry told you, that means that they trust you with that kind of intelligence! And the only people that the Ministry of Magic would trust with that kind of intelligence would be people who work for them. Aurors, Unspeakables, investigators...”

“...And other such agents,” Bat finished off grimly. “Yes.”

Atticus stared at Bat for a moment. Then his eyes slowly lit up and his mouth spread into an incredulous smile.

“...You’re helping the Ministry fight Grindelwald?” he whispered.

“In a way,” Bat said uncomfortably. “I’m more an academic resource than anything. Adelia put me in contact with Minister Knightly several years back, and he sent me messages inquiring about certain things...asking me to put my ear to the ground in Knockturn Alley and such, among like-minded Dark wizards. Just try to sort out the source of Grindelwald’s new-found power, and what he might aim to do with it. Not that old Fawley’s been very forthcoming with help -- reckon it’s only because of the few contacts I worked with in the Department of Mysteries following up with me that I’ve gotten any updates since Knightly left office...”

Bat’s dismissiveness toward his work didn’t dampen Atticus’s smile one bit. On the contrary, the ex-professor was so delighted by it that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing his compatriot’s shoulders. The affectionate gesture visibly startled Bat.

“Bat, that’s wonderful,” said Atticus. “With how much you’ve studied over the years...why, that kind of knowledge must be invaluable, to the fight against Grindelwald.”

His blue eyes sparkled with pride.

“It was brilliant of Ms. Selwyn-Ellison, to suggest you to the Minister. And so good of you, to do it...I know you’ve never much liked the Ministry, so you putting your differences with them aside, to fight Grindelwald -- it’s so good of you, to put the safety of others first.”

Red pricked at the edges of Bat’s eyes in response to Atticus’s proximity. Upon noticing it, Atticus’s smile flickered and died and he immediately backed away.

“Forgive me, I -- I forgot myself -- ”

To Atticus’s surprise, though, Bat didn’t distance himself further. On the contrary, he took the spent Blood Pop stick out of his mouth, replaced it, and then extended an arm so as to wrap it around Atticus and pull him up beside his chest. Bat buried his face right beside Atticus’s neck, while Atticus’s face landed right on Bat’s chest -- right beside the cursed, undead heart that pumped the blood Bat had to consume so regularly, just to keep his body and mind from going insane from blood lust...

“Bat?” said Atticus, startled. 

The breaths that hit Atticus’s neck from Bat’s nose were as supernaturally cold as his hand as it anchored itself on the back of Atticus’s head. 

“Thanks, Grim,” Bat murmured. 

Atticus could hear the smile in his friend’s voice, and he relaxed a bit despite himself. It was a reaction most anyone else would’ve been shocked by, considering he currently had a vampire’s fangs mere inches from his neck.

But Atticus wasn’t afraid. Bat would never harm him. He would never harm anyone, unless it was to protect someone he loved...

Atticus heard Bat take a very shaky breath and could tell that he was struggling to restrain himself. Bringing a hand up to hold onto the back of Bat’s shirt, he gently pried himself out of Bat’s arms.

“Robert,” he said softly, “you should let go now.”

But Bat seemed oddly reluctant to let go, even though his fangs were lengthening. His eyes were shut tight as his hand tangled itself that bit more in the dark strands of Atticus’s hair.

“Not yet,” he rasped.

Atticus’s eyes grew softer still. “Robert...”

“I can do it,” he repeated, a bit shakily. “I can do it.”

He took a sip from his flask without even taking the Blood Pop out of his mouth. Then, ignoring the fangs still at the front of his mouth, he brought his head down to rest on top of Atticus’s.

“I want to remember,” the vampire murmured beside Atticus’s hair. 

Atticus blinked. “Remember what?”

“What I’m fighting for, every time I go out and scout out information, for those Ministry sheep.”

Atticus’s lip twitched with a faintly exasperated frown. “I was one of those so-called ‘sheep,’ as you might recall -- as was Mr. Gibson, and as is Mr. Ellison.”

“Every flock needs a few sheepdogs around, to give them some direction,” Bat said dismissively. 

“So says someone who turns into a dog on a regular basis, whenever he needs to shepherd the Selwyn-Ellison children back to school.”

Bat chuckled lowly as his long-fingered hand trailed through Atticus’s hair absently. The ex-professor felt his flush darken that bit more every time Bat’s cold fingertips grazed the back of his neck. 

“You see, Grim?” he said softly. His set of four sharp, cat-like fangs glinted brightly as he smiled. “This is it. What I’m fighting for, right here.”

Atticus cocked an eyebrow. “Friendly banter?”

“You,” Bat corrected him. He closed his eyes as he grinned around the Blood Pop in his mouth. “When I’m with you, or Danny, or Rex, or Adelia, or Teddy, or Bertie or Vi or little Holly-berry...the Honeydukes family, and your students and mine...”

He opened his eyes again, smiling fully and handsomely no matter how monstrous his entirely scarlet eyes looked. 

“...When I see you all live your lives, and can be part of them, even just in some small way...it’s like...I’m almost me, again. Who I was before. When I can talk about silly things with you -- solve your problems and make you smile...you make me feel alive. More alive than I have in a hundred and forty years.”

Atticus felt his heart swell in his chest, seeing such sincere joy in his friend’s face. When he’d first met Bat in Hogsmeade, he never could’ve imagined such a mysterious, reclusive vampire could smile like that -- such a warm smile, such soft and...well, beautiful. As beautiful as a sunrise...a sunrise this man would never be able to enjoy again, all because of his condition that made it so that everything around him would wither away, while he stayed exactly the same...

Bat felt happy -- he felt alive, because of Atticus. It was such an empowering, yet bittersweet feeling: like a bite of savory chocolate with a terribly harsh aftertaste. It made Atticus swallow back the lump in his throat and, after the shortest hesitation, throw out his hand and clutch the back of Bat’s waistcoat and hold his friend tighter.

“You...” Atticus whispered, “...are more alive than any other man I have ever known in my life, Robert Harker.”

Bat’s hand in Atticus’s hair stilled. 

“Blood lust or no -- vampirism or no,” Atticus said more firmly, “you love life, and the people around you, more deeply than any human man. More deeply than I will likely ever know.”

Atticus’s mouth spread into a wide, open grin beside Bat’s undead heart.

“Don’t ever change. No matter what -- stay just the way you are.”

Bat was very quiet for a long moment. Then, clutching Atticus’s dark hair in his fist, he yanked himself away at last.

“I’m sorry,” he choked, “I can’t -- ”

He spat out the Blood Pop, his claw-like hand fumbling inside his waistcoat for his pewter flask. Atticus immediately reached out to help secure Bat’s shaking hand around the flask so it was easier to take a swig, and also reached into Bat’s pocket to unwrap another Blood Pop for him so that when he’d finally chugged down a good gallon’s worth of blood, Bat could immediately stick the Pop in his mouth and take several good deep breaths.

Once he’d recovered himself, the vampire chuckled.

“See?” he said playfully. “Told you I was the old man, out of the two of us.”

Atticus smiled wryly. “You know, you’re right. I think I can see the white hairs from here.”

Bat laughed louder still, as happily and sincerely as a man with no burdens to bear. It was a sound that likewise made Atticus’s smile grow that bit wider and his eyes sparkle that bit more brightly. 

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #my writing #atticus grimsley #bartholomew varney #adelia selwyn #danny gibson #jackson knightly #gellert grindelwald #goddamn it I love these two much I can't stand it!! #feels so good to write for them again <33 #being set in 1927 this is a mere fourteen years before bat's death #and yup bat was secretly helping the british ministry fight grindelwald even way back then #oh also halloween *does* have some good songs now #but back in bat's lifetime? nope #I'd say most of the good halloween songs popped up in the 80's 90's and 00's #namely the nightmare before christmas soundtrack disturbia thriller and the like #happy birthday grim my dear!!