Wizarding Realm
Winter 2018

Welcome to Wizarding Realm! We are an alternate universe Harry Potter site set in the present day at Hogwarts. With the end of November, arrives the Winter Term! Snow isn't the only thing to dust these cold, Scottish months; many new and exciting events await the students and staff as they prepare for both the holidays and the new year. In the meanwhile, they can skate across the lake, go gift shopping in quaint Hogsmeade, or stay indoors and enjoy a hot cup of cocoa!

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 trapped in the waves, [drowning in you], amita / lyx
T.J. is Offline | 32 Posts | Prefers he/him/his | Rep: 2 pts | Profile| Plotter | Tracker | Ranking | Extra Info | Etc.
"The defiance in my bones will build the home for her heart."
17
Pureblood
6'2"
7th
Ravenclaw
Undecided
Ravenclaw
Awards: 8

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He was a madman. Not just that, but a madman with a death wish, his fate already signed away.

But did he care? Of course not. When the heart wanted what it wanted-- when it wanted to beat along to the same rhythm of another, to have a partner to beat against like a drum... Rationale told Landry Gaspard that there was no such path where he came out the winner. He could pursue her, neglecting her every wish and forcing her to tolerate him, all for a chance that she might appreciate him-- or he could leave her alone. He could pretend she didn't exist when he saw her in the corridors, or that he didn't already know what shampoo she used and how much of it-- and he could even pretend that he didn't notice the way she smirked when she was proud of herself for doing more than she expected. Both paths worked, for vastly different reasons, and yet even still the lines to his own heart muddied in their consistency. What was good for her, was bad for him-- and what was good for him, would hurt her beyond repair, at least if she was to be believed.

And he did want to believe her. He wanted to believe that she was the chaos that she claimed to be, that she was the disaster in which the innocent lost their lives because that was what she wanted. She wanted him to be wary, to let her be on her own and to walk this path as the strong woman she was, and if he had been anyone else he probably would've even agreed, but not now. Not when he looked at her and saw perfection, bliss in the way she swirled her hips-- he might've been dumb, but he wasn't that dumb. When his heart skipped beats, falling out of rhythm and pattering too fast, that was enough to tell him he needed to stay. She would destroy him; she would take everything from him that she swore she would and still he would thank her for it. He always would.

Because in the moment? In the emotion? There was nothing better than feeling the rush of taking that risk, whether he lay lifeless afterword or swimming eternally in her eyes. It would hurt; she had said just as much, but he couldn't-- he wouldn't stop trying to prove her every doubt wrong. "Hey," his lips parting suddenly, he pushed the anxieties in his mind to their rightful back burner, closing the distance between himself and the supposed mistress of chaos so that they were mere inches from each other. Next, his hand wrapped around her shoulder, spinning her from her slouch and into his arms. "You're gonna kill me for this-- I know it from just looking at you, darling, but I don't give a damn." Pressing his lips to hers, he secured his hands at the back of her neck, grasping it firmly but gently enough that she wouldn't knee him straight in the berries (caution and whatnot). A second passed, then another, each ticking away slower than the last-- the kiss only ending when the background noise around them registered again in Landry's ears.

Letting her go, pulling his lips from hers, he stepped back and offered her his best smirk. "You know... There's a whole hell of a lot of people in these corridors. I wasn't expecting them all to stop, honest," shrugging his shoulders, he raised a hesitant-but-triumphant hand to those that were still standing in attendance. He could either make this better or worse-- and right now he really didn't know which would prevent his death. "Ladies and gentleman, I'm here to tell you all now, that this girl? This Amita Amirmoez?" He pointed to Amita, then back to his chest, eyes scanning the students all around them so as to make sure he still had their attention. "She's stolen my whole damn heart. I'm not even mad at her, but, well... That's why I kissed her! It's not a show, y'all. It's just me proclaiming my affection for this fine young woman."

"Ain't she a beaut?"

---
@Amita Amirmoez

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Lyx is Offline | 70 Posts | Prefers they/them | Rep: 3 pts | Profile| Plotter | Tracker | Ranking | Extra Info | Etc.
"home is the space between your heartbeats"
18
Undisclosed
5'6"
7th
Slytherin
undecided
Slytherin
Awards: 15

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Summer had been fine.

Summer had been more than fine. She hadn’t been able to avoid actually interacting with Landry -a loss, truly-, but it had really just been that day at the lake with him and Dani. But that day had wiped her, wiped any desire she had to be around others for the rest of the summer. Her spoons gone, her last hurrah had been cycling, skating, and hoofing it around Berlin with the Rogers brothers and Daniela. That had been refreshing, even though her mind was tricking her into seeing the similarities between her German-transplant Texan friend and the Georgia boy on her mind.

Gable let her talk, her hands flying at the speed of light. Caden and Daniela were off in their own world, listening to whatever music he’d been working on with his friends.

But that had just been a weekend away from it all, and when September came, part of the Slytherin hoped that the Gaspard boy had taken his time at Hogwarts and decided to go back to Ilvermorny. The better part of her knew that her hope was futile, of course, so she was careful to avoid him where she could, to stay out of his path and hope that he gave up.

The summer helped her realize that she might not know him, but she had fallen for him faster and harder than she had fallen in love with anyone or anything in her life. While she was cocky and self-assured, and she knew her worth, there were still more days than not that she hated herself.

And that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it? She hated herself. She hated herself so much, how could she possibly be so selfish as to think that she could love him and everything would be as fine as he made it out to be? How could she care so deeply and quickly for him while simultaneously wishing that she could destroy herself?

At the sight of the blue eyed boy after her final class, Amita turned, resolving to walk away. She could finish out her seventh year simply going to class, going to meals, then back to the dorms, only varying it when Quidditch started up again and-

Hey…

A hand caught her shoulder, the girl only registering part of what was said before lips she’d know in death were on hers again. The familiar feeling of his heavy hands cradling her neck to keep her close helped buffer the shock of being kissed, but only just, her brain still short-circuiting as he gave a speech -a speech?!- to the students that had gathered at the sight of Amita not murdering a boy who had the audacity to touch her without her consent. Before she realized what she was doing, her hand moved, striking him across the face with a harsh

SLAP!!!


A couple of students hazarded a shocked laugh at the action, the rest of them choosing to start spilling off instead of lingering much longer. Her handprint was perfect and red against his pale skin, the slap that rewarded his incredibly forward action hard enough that her fingertips stung. She kind of felt bad, though her heart wouldn’t stop racing so hard that it felt like it was trying to jump right out into his hands, climb into his chest, and live there.

She could’ve left it there, not saying anything. She could’ve walked away, threatening a curse much worse than the slap that she’d reflexively delivered. Instead, as the halls cleared, the dark haired Slytherin reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging him in for another kiss. A frustrated, infatuated murmur of “You stupid son of a bitch,” left her lips before the met his again, and she was gone. Hopeless and helpless, she kissed him back as if that would soothe the way his face had to have been stinging. When Amita pulled away, she couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, her coffee colored ones closed tightly as she pressed her forehead against his jaw and, for once, ran to him instead of running away. Her hands slipped under his robes, curling tightly in the cardigan underneath them. “You stupid, arrogant, beautiful boy, I warned you.”

@Landry Gaspard

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user posted image
trapped and I cannot fly,
And you don't own me
T.J. is Offline | 32 Posts | Prefers he/him/his | Rep: 2 pts | Profile| Plotter | Tracker | Ranking | Extra Info | Etc.
"The defiance in my bones will build the home for her heart."
17
Pureblood
6'2"
7th
Ravenclaw
Undecided
Ravenclaw
Awards: 8

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Statistically speaking, it had to be one of the dumbest things he'd ever done.

He knew it, the crowd knew it, and the girl he was showboating as if she was his own most certainly knew it. It was out of pocket for him; he could say that to her, start it off as a type of apology, but would she believe him? So much of what they'd said to each other had seemingly been genuine, from his lips to her heart and vice versa, but this would change things. It would change things, of course, because this made him typical. Showing a woman like a prize, grabbing her and kissing her in such a way that left her without her own choices... It had been sweet, at least in intent, but now he felt like a grade-A douchebag in a hallway full of witnesses. How could that ever end well?

"Amita I--" her name had barely left his lips when his head was sent on a swivel, the sting of her fingertips still lingering against his face. "Alright well that was about what I expected," he muttered, the echoes of laughter and shock around him serving to wound him deeper. "I took her choice." He told himself over and over that he was in the wrong, that he deserved this pain, however temporary, for disrespecting her as a woman. But there was just that slightest part of them-- the side he could only identify as a "pig wiggling in a blanket"-- that somehow still found it to be fine. It hadn't been with ill intent, after all, it was just the execution that was bad. Then again, that was starting to become a constant theme between the two of them.

"Listen, I'm not trying to disrespect you--" but again he was cut off, her lips meeting his in a tangle of flames that could only be compared to lightning in their brilliance. "Yeah, I'm stupid," was all he could muster between kisses, locking his hands at each of her hips and squeezing her tightly. It felt nice; no, it felt right, because if only for a minute the voices in his head were all quiet and to themselves, no one speaking louder than the next. She pulled away, and as she pulled away he found it hard to let her go, all too aware of the fact she couldn't look him in the eyes. How severely could one man mess such a beautiful thing up? Apparently, that was today's mission.

"Yeah, so? You warned me, cool." His words were hot, red-hot in fact, scorching against her cocoa skin but leaving him injured instead. "I know that what you're saying is what's right, that you warned me and that you don't want me to force my way into your world... But all I keep seeing is all these reasons to want in. Except for that slap. You got a mean set of hands on ya, especially for a peacock..."He chuckled to himself, much like someone's awkward grandfather would laugh at his own fart jokes, but there was no humor in his heart. Only butterflies, swarms of them, fluttering and telling him how dumb he looked to be here and falling for this girl who so clearly didn't want him.

"I'm an idiot and I damn well know it, but you little lady-- you are that one thing that could help me get a whole lot smarter. It sounds crazy, I know it does, but I'm better off when you're around." He cradled the back of her head slowly, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to beg her to open her eyes, and yet he wasn't entirely sure he could look her in the face if she did. "All I want to say is... All I need to say is that I'm perfectly fine with the chaos for as long as you'll let me be. I don't want to be any further away from you than I have to be-- and I need you to understand that. You're driving me crazy and out of my mind and if you stop doing that... If you stop making me give a shit, I don't really think I'll be okay with that. I want you to keep being a pain in my ass, Amita Amirmoez."

@Amita Amirmoez

--------------------
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Lyx is Offline | 70 Posts | Prefers they/them | Rep: 3 pts | Profile| Plotter | Tracker | Ranking | Extra Info | Etc.
"home is the space between your heartbeats"
18
Undisclosed
5'6"
7th
Slytherin
undecided
Slytherin
Awards: 15

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Amita reveled in the feeling of his hands gripping her hips, of the way his strong body felt against hers, and was filled with an overpowering need. It wasn’t carnal or primal, the way most teenagers meant when they spoke of needing another person. It wasn’t necessarily romantic either. It was soft, simply a need to feel him touch her, to hold onto that aching, raw feeling of relief that washed over her at his touch.

She hadn’t wanted to love him. She would be a curse to him, and she knew that she would. For that matter, Amita didn’t know what had made him become so entranced with her, or why he didn’t have some sense of self-preservation that told him to stay far away from her. Snakes only rattled once before striking, and she had warned him more than once at this point.

But you, little lady… you are the one thing that could help me get a whole lot smarter. It sounds crazy, I know it does, but I’m better off when you’re around.

Oddly enough, it struck her harder than his widely witnessed declaration of love...

And… that hurt.

Why did that hurt?

His words brushed over her skin, lips pressed to the contour of her face becoming her ear, and it made her want to shiver. She couldn’t help her smile into his neck at the comment about her slap. That was nothing. He hadn’t even seen her left hook yet.

The fingers curled in her hair and cradling the back of her neck felt like a plea. Just look at me, dove, they were saying. Look at me. The Slytherin couldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to keep herself together if she actually met his gaze. She had spoken of storms, but her own wouldn’t compare to the ones that she would see if she looked into his beautiful blue eyes.

I don’t want to be further away from you than I have to be.

If you stop making me give a shit, I don’t really think that I’ll be okay with that.


How many ways could a man say I love you without uttering the words?

“I can’t,” she mumbled. It sounded pitiful, like she was about to start crying, and that was simply unacceptable. “I can’t. I don’t know what you see in me, but I don’t. I can’t.

The hallway cleared, leaving the pair of seventh years alone. Amita should’ve pulled away from him, but she couldn’t. She needed that closeness, needed to lean on him and let him be her strength, for just a moment. “You would be appalled if you could hear the things that my f- that people have made me think about myself. And it’s cruel and foolish to think that I could despise myself and love you to the same depth and quickness, but here I am.” A shuddering sigh heaved itself from her lungs, the girl tightening her hold on his cardigan. The softness of the wool between her fingers was a welcome distraction, but not enough that it would keep her distracted for too long. “You deserve better, no matter how good you think I am for you. In my mind, you are always going to deserve better, and I can’t tell you why.”

@Landry Gaspard

--------------------
user posted image
user posted image
trapped and I cannot fly,
And you don't own me
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