Harry Potter and the Scabbard of Excalibur [AU]
[X] From You, Six Thousand Years Ago
[X] From You, Six Thousand Years Ago
I was going to vote for the magic one but the Attack on Titan reference ReaderOfFate mentioned fully convinced me also I like the idea that joining a house of our peers cures the ailments of our soul fixing our terrible nightmares
[X] From You, Six Thousand Years Ago
[X] From You, Six Thousand Years Ago
- Location
- Poland
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] From You, Six Thousand Years Ago
This isn't a mystery box. It's literally just healing our mental wounds. And I love it so much.
Welcome to Hufflepuff, here's your complimentary therapy.
This isn't a mystery box. It's literally just healing our mental wounds. And I love it so much.
Welcome to Hufflepuff, here's your complimentary therapy.
[X] Magicka Primeval
[X] From You, Six Thousand Years Ago
*If you had nightmares, no longer have nightmares. However, you still cannot remember your dreams, for your own safety.
*If you had nightmares, no longer have nightmares. However, you still cannot remember your dreams, for your own safety.
[X] Magicka Primeval
Chalice Initiation
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Chalice Initiation
As soon as the Sorting Hat cried out the word, Harry was showered in much applause and general cheer. As he stood and walked over to the Hufflepuff table, past the Slytherins, with a smile plastered on his face. As he sat down, several older students leaned over to eagerly congratulate and welcome him; a prefect by the name of Gabriel Truman introduced himself with a polite and respectful nod of the head. As the Sorting continued, after shifting under the Hat's brim for almost a minute, Neville was also placed in Hufflepuff and joined them at the table. At least one of the friends he'd met at the table had made it.
After the Sorting's conclusion, as Professor McGonagall returned to her place, Headmaster Dumbledore stood calmly from where he sat at the High Table, and with open arms, declared, "I'd like to welcome you, everyone, to what is sure to be yet another adventurous and splendid year of education and intellectual divertissement at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As sure as I am that everyone is excited and eager to proceed with the evening's affairs, I have a few service announcements to make before we begin what is certain to be yet another excellent and filling repast."
As such, Dumbledore started to regale them, "First, Mr. Flich has requested that I remind all students that, effective starting this year, it's no longer permissible to utilize a bludger in the role of carrier pigeon, especially indoors, and further so if a given message would have to navigate through any narrow hallways; furthermore, all Quidditch equipment taken onto the school's premises will now be treated as class-three contraband unless a given student is carrying a signed notice from their Quidditch Captain."
A few boos and cries of outrage shook the Hall, but Dumbledore kept speaking unperturbed. "And, of course, Hufflepuff students are no longer permitted to collaborate in order to create any, and I quote..." He fixed up his glasses and peered down at a piece of parchment in his hand. "Autobroom-emission translunar essence-motion carriers."
All of the Hufflepuffs seemed utterly calm at the Headmaster's words. All of them looked almost forcefully innocent and impeccably demure, eyes fixed upfront, or staring down at the table as they played with the cloth or silverware, but with not even a single person looking towards the High Table. A particular set of upper-year Hufflepuffs a bit further down the table was having a kind of party, of sorts, sipping on steaming cups of tea they'd conjured out of nowhere, and enjoying crumpets with cottage cheese, like children playing with dolls and pretending they had not committed murder while dad and mom were out. A dark-haired boy, seemingly their group's leader, was sitting with one leg over the other. He sipped a cup of tea with his eyes closed and pinky finger out, appreciating its fragrance, seemingly uncaring.
"Nor can they lease anyone to do this for them."
He coughed out some of his tea and glared at Dumbledore, a look of sour distaste now gracing his features. Another in his group puffed up comically like a huge fish, and started to choke on something, red in the face. Several other upper-year Hufflepuffs frowned at the statement; their faces remained stationary, but their eyes drifted towards Dumbledore with various levels of calculating and vengeful emotion, though no one said anything. Harry, and the other First-Year Hufflepuffs, felt a little out of depth because of this - and slightly unnerved.
"And they may not regather the parts of broken models for repair."
At that, a furious Sixth-Year stood up in affront, pulling on his matted yellow-black tie, as if to release tension from his neck where he couldn't breathe. "T-That's... That's discrimination, Headmaster! We were this close to pioneering a new method of transportation! One that'd let us reach the-"
"Silence! I do not want to hear any more of this, Mr. Volkov," Professor Sprout, the Hufflepuff Head of House, stood up so forcefully the High Table shook. A scowl was etched on her face, so menacing that Harry shivered, even though he wasn't directly in the line of fire. She appeared very much like a carved Balkan statue of Satan. "Your little, so-called 'transportation devices' have caused several people to lose their Merlinsdamned fingers! You and your group are very lucky to not have been expelled from Hogwarts - that you are still seated over there, capable of breathing oxygen, is a form of divine mercy. Be glad for this. Now apologize to everyone in the room. All of you!"
The boy who'd been sipping the tea scanned the Great Hall, connected his eyes with the other Hufflepuffs in his clique, and then in less than a second, they seemed to come to a tacit decision. All of them stood up, bowed slightly, and offered various, lukewarm apologies to the people in the room.
"Now sit down, and I want to hear nothing about this ever again."
"Yes, Professor..." They sat back down. The boy who'd made the objection, Mr. Volkov, was gritting his teeth and looking down.
"I suppose we'll bring this up again in two years," Dumbledore added with a slight, uncharacteristic sigh. "Moving on..."
Alright, so, that was something, Harry thought. Any ideas?
Uh, no, Geist replied with a stolid bemusement, Contrary to your earnest faith in me, I am not omniscient. And especially so when it comes to Hufflepuffs. As I imagine it, those children produced some kind of powerful but experimental device - for transportation, apparently - but which was remarkably unstable and resulted in damages to innocent bystanders. I have to agree with Sprout on this - that's kind of screwed up even for a group of 'Puff engineers, and they are pretty lucky to have not been expelled. I've seen people banished from this castle for much less than severed fingers.
After several other public service announcements from Dumbledore - including a reminder to Gryffindor that rounded holograin shards were not to be used as hockey pucks, a reminder to Slytherin upperclassmen that bribing prefects was unlikely to work for a multitude of reasons which he listed, and a warm congratulations to Ravenclaw for winning last year's House Cup alongside a thinly-veiled request to excel and repeat that feat this year lest the other Houses become too uncompetitive - he, finally, announced the beginning of the feast. And, with a thunderous clap of his hands, Dumbledore summoned hundreds of dishes onto the tables of the Great Hall.
Around Harry were scattered plates of full roasted chicken and wings, and buttered turkeys. As sides, there were pots of venison goulash and large bowls of baked potatoes with spring onions and baby carrots with cauliflower, a wide selection of salads containing ripe juicy tomatoes and sour cream poured over salad. An entire wooden board of cheeses and soft creams alongside a beef wellington; Irish stew, haggis, and delicate Welsh cawl. An entire tray of cottage pie was passed around the table. The sheer variety dazzled Harry, even though he'd already felt spoiled for choice whenever Kreacher cooked for them, often providing more dishes than anyone could humanly eat.
After the subsequent feast was concluded, Harry and Neville grouped together with the other new Hufflepuffs and said goodbye to their friends.
As it turned out, the Hufflepuff Common Room was the closest to the Great Hall, only a minute and a half on foot, if you were in a hurry. It was, in fact, adjacent to the kitchen, and the kitchen was located right under the Great Hall. It was, according to one of Harry's seniors, the most supremely convenient Common Room in the castle. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors needed to climb up a seemingly infinite and confusing staircase to get to theirs, and the Slytherins needed to brave the sordid horrors of the Hogwarts dungeon every time they wanted to go back and forth, so the Hufflepuffs had it best in this department.
As soon as they entered - through a stack of barrels coded to a specific pattern of wand tapping - Harry and Neville looked around. The Hufflepuff Common Room was a cozy space, one that seemed to emphasize nature and comfort; in any given spot, there'd be any number of chairs, couches, and sofas to lounge on. The architecture was round and smooth, and even though Harry spotted a few angular lines here and there, none of them were sharp. All metallic surfaces and items were made almost exclusively from copper, and there were many shelves and cabinets scattered around, seemingly with items for communal use, as well as potted plants and flowers.
The arrived Hufflepuffs subsequently dispersed throughout the Common Room and decisively got down to whatever business they were up to, while the older Hufflepuff involved in the group that Dumbledore and Sprout had castigated, the one who'd been called Mr. Volkov by Sprout, clutched his temples and screamed up at the ceiling from the center of the room, his voice practically shaking with anger, "Rraaagh! Damn that Dumbledore! And damn that traitor Sprout! They're starting to get on my nerves!"
A few Hufflepuffs watched this happen in various states of commiseration but ultimately continued to converse and do other things. However, curious about the event, both Neville and Harry lingered in order to listen and watch. Most of the First-Years stood near the Common Room entrance, unsure as to what to do with themselves.
"It was a good run, Dusty," a platinum blonde-haired girl replied, laying a hand on Volkov's shoulder. "But we did sever a few fingers."
"And you did get us in trouble, you moron," said another boy, the one who'd been sipping tea. He walked around them, in front of Dusty, and put a hand on his collar, shaking him slightly. "I told you it was a terrible damn idea to launch so early, but you didn't listen."
"Screw them! We'll keep designing in secret."
"It doesn't work that way, Dusty," cut in a prefect - a boy in his Seventh Year, with sandy hair and tired eyes, "I'll have to report anything of the sort. And you know that - it's for your own good. Just let it go. If we manage to go on for a couple of months without incident, they'll release the yoke and you can try something else."
"Whatever," Dusty replied. "Handle the Firsties, Bucket. I need to go back to my projects."
"You Muggles and your science," muttered the tea-drinking boy from earlier. He put a hand on his forehead, then rubbed down, pulling it across his entire face; and finally, with heavy weariness, he sighed. "I'll go to the Room of Requirements and grab some metal."
"I didn't ask," Dusty said, a little miffed.
The other boy smirked. "You were going to."
"What's going on?" Harry, finally, cut in. "Maybe we can help? We could talk to Dumbledore and tell him why your project is important."
"It's nothing that you guys need to concern yourselves about," said the boy who'd been calmly sipping tea. He wrapped one arm around Volkov's back. "I'm Asmund Fawley, event planner extraordinaire, and this is Duncan Volkov - inventor, genius, and explorer - though everyone calls him Dusty."
"Yeah," the prefect cut in, arms folded in skepticism. "Dusty Volkov - destroyer of property, obsessed maniac, and the one who's always sitting in detention."
"I hate you guys," Dusty muttered.
"I'm Nova Goldfinch," said the girl, a hand on her chest. "Say, do you enjoy... creative engineering?"
"Don't corrupt them, please," pleaded the prefect, suddenly.
"It's too late for that, I think," Neville said, unblinking.
"I'm Gareth Williams," the prefect said as if sensing that he should introduce himself now. "Seventh Year prefect, and starting this year, I'll also be the Head Boy. And woe to me for that, I suppose..."
"And we call him Mr. Bucket," Asmund interjected, jabbing his thumb in Gareth's general direction. "It's because, at the end of the day, he's merely a container for the water the teachers put into him. And no one wants to drink chalky water from a rusty bucket."
"Only you three call me that," Gareth answered, glaring at them with a low growl. He glanced at Harry and Neville, and several other First-Years who'd gathered behind them to watch the proceedings. "And I hope you do not get any ideas. But I digress. I need you First-Years to come with me, so I can explain a few things about how Hufflepuff works. It's necessary to get this out of the way as soon as possible."
And so, they were led into the basement of the Hufflepuff Common Room - a single level under the typical dungeon height - and then down several rooms and hallways, which forced Harry, Neville, and Geist to realize that the Hufflepuff Common Room was almost stupendously large because the general impression they were getting was that what they were seeing was merely a fraction of the full thing and it already dwarfed the Great Hall in terms of volume.
As they walked, they passed by and overheard a number of upper-year Hufflepuffs discussing various matters, ranging from ordinary Hogwarts studies to, 'monitoring global finances.' A string of words that Harry never thought he'd hear uttered so casually yet seriously in any scenario, especially one where the implication was supposed to be such that a cabal of people with a badger as their emblem was having a hand in manipulating said finances. They passed by a room where several girls and boys wearing Muggle labcoats were performing seemingly mundane chemical experiments, using beakers, burners, pipettes, and other such tools.
After several minutes, they neared their goal, and Gareth started to speak.
"All Hufflepuffs who enter Hogwarts in their First Year face a choice - a serious dilemma, I'd even say. Although we stand outwardly undivided, the fascinating truth is that internally, the House is divided into two distinct categories," said Gareth. "These are formally recognized as Outer Circle and Inner Circle Hufflepuffs. Already, all of you belong to the Outer Circle by default of being Sorted to our House; to enter the Inner Circle is equal parts burden and privilege. However, as time passes, most Hufflepuffs choose to be initiated into the Inner Circle, with an exponential gradient of those who choose to do such as the years spent in Hogwarts increase. The benefits simply outweigh the demerits in almost any scenario. If you refuse in the present but desire to change your mind later on, contact me for initiation. I should mention that it's not possible to revert from Inner Circle to Outer Circle through any method known to us - it's a lifelong commitment, though I am told the magic loses some of its potency after your twenties."
A girl at the back raised a hand. Gareth nodded at her.
"Uhm, so, what's being a part of the Inner Circle entail?"
The corners of Gareth's mouth quirked up. "Every House in Hogwarts has its own, special artifact - an item forged by its Founder and passed onto us, remaining here for countless generations. In our case, it's the Cup of Hufflepuff, though some with a penchant for dramatic reverence call it the Chalice."
He opened the door to a room, one almost at the dead-end of the basement.
Within, there was only a stone pedestal with a golden chalice on top, as well as a hole in the ceiling through which a ray of moonlight shone down. The chalice was intricately carved, Harry noted, with the visage of a badger, orange topazes replacing its eyes. It also had a pair of finely-wrought golden handles.
"If you desire to join the Inner Circle, then I'll fill the Cup of Hufflepuff with blood, and perform a secret ritual to consecrate it. After that, each of you will also bleed into the Cup, and then, all of you will drink from it. As a result of this, a mystical bond will be formed. And from that point on, you will be a member of the Inner Circle, and enjoy the benefits which that entails - the unquestioning friendship and loyalty of any other Inner Circle member. All Inner Circle members instinctively desire to protect and help one another, preferring to act in collaboration; the strong shield and act on behalf of the weak; the talented pull up the talentless; the influential pull strings for the black sheep."
So... Geist said, with a hint of enlightenment in his voice, as if he'd seen a new vista of the world, This is how the Hufflepuffs do it. Absolute loyalty to one another. There's no mistrust, no sincere or genuine hostility - no allowance of such an element. A single House united, with perfect capacity for cooperation and collaboration. And clearly, they retain free will, otherwise, they'd be unable to get on one another's nerves so masterfully. I want to study this artifact. I want to see how it works its magic.
"And that," Gareth continued, turning around, "is what it means to be a member of the Inner Circle. As I said - a lifelong commitment, to the House, to your friends. It's not a choice to be taken lightly. My suggestion is that you think carefully - there is always time to perform the ritual later on, and not being in the Inner Circle does not exclude you from being a Hufflepuff. Although we may lack the instinct for it, we'll do our best to protect you, and the ethos of Hufflepuff is that no one shall be excluded, regardless of their choice. Now, let's start with a show of hands. Is there anyone who's tentatively interested?"
At his side, Neville seemed to consider the question but did not raise his hand yet. Although most of them seemed to be nervous and vacillated, including the girl who'd asked her question earlier, a single boy at the back did raise his own hand after some thought, followed by another one.
I am, spiritually speaking, in favor of this, Geist said. It sounds pretty great.
---
[ ] Raise Hand - Join the Hufflepuff Inner Circle.
[ ] Stay Hand - Another day, perhaps.
[-] Ask Question (Write-in) - I'll do my best to answer questions in a timely fashion; answers will be IC, as if answered by Gareth, and said Q&A might be included in the next update in some form, if considered relevant.
As soon as the Sorting Hat cried out the word, Harry was showered in much applause and general cheer. As he stood and walked over to the Hufflepuff table, past the Slytherins, with a smile plastered on his face. As he sat down, several older students leaned over to eagerly congratulate and welcome him; a prefect by the name of Gabriel Truman introduced himself with a polite and respectful nod of the head. As the Sorting continued, after shifting under the Hat's brim for almost a minute, Neville was also placed in Hufflepuff and joined them at the table. At least one of the friends he'd met at the table had made it.
After the Sorting's conclusion, as Professor McGonagall returned to her place, Headmaster Dumbledore stood calmly from where he sat at the High Table, and with open arms, declared, "I'd like to welcome you, everyone, to what is sure to be yet another adventurous and splendid year of education and intellectual divertissement at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As sure as I am that everyone is excited and eager to proceed with the evening's affairs, I have a few service announcements to make before we begin what is certain to be yet another excellent and filling repast."
As such, Dumbledore started to regale them, "First, Mr. Flich has requested that I remind all students that, effective starting this year, it's no longer permissible to utilize a bludger in the role of carrier pigeon, especially indoors, and further so if a given message would have to navigate through any narrow hallways; furthermore, all Quidditch equipment taken onto the school's premises will now be treated as class-three contraband unless a given student is carrying a signed notice from their Quidditch Captain."
A few boos and cries of outrage shook the Hall, but Dumbledore kept speaking unperturbed. "And, of course, Hufflepuff students are no longer permitted to collaborate in order to create any, and I quote..." He fixed up his glasses and peered down at a piece of parchment in his hand. "Autobroom-emission translunar essence-motion carriers."
All of the Hufflepuffs seemed utterly calm at the Headmaster's words. All of them looked almost forcefully innocent and impeccably demure, eyes fixed upfront, or staring down at the table as they played with the cloth or silverware, but with not even a single person looking towards the High Table. A particular set of upper-year Hufflepuffs a bit further down the table was having a kind of party, of sorts, sipping on steaming cups of tea they'd conjured out of nowhere, and enjoying crumpets with cottage cheese, like children playing with dolls and pretending they had not committed murder while dad and mom were out. A dark-haired boy, seemingly their group's leader, was sitting with one leg over the other. He sipped a cup of tea with his eyes closed and pinky finger out, appreciating its fragrance, seemingly uncaring.
"Nor can they lease anyone to do this for them."
He coughed out some of his tea and glared at Dumbledore, a look of sour distaste now gracing his features. Another in his group puffed up comically like a huge fish, and started to choke on something, red in the face. Several other upper-year Hufflepuffs frowned at the statement; their faces remained stationary, but their eyes drifted towards Dumbledore with various levels of calculating and vengeful emotion, though no one said anything. Harry, and the other First-Year Hufflepuffs, felt a little out of depth because of this - and slightly unnerved.
"And they may not regather the parts of broken models for repair."
At that, a furious Sixth-Year stood up in affront, pulling on his matted yellow-black tie, as if to release tension from his neck where he couldn't breathe. "T-That's... That's discrimination, Headmaster! We were this close to pioneering a new method of transportation! One that'd let us reach the-"
"Silence! I do not want to hear any more of this, Mr. Volkov," Professor Sprout, the Hufflepuff Head of House, stood up so forcefully the High Table shook. A scowl was etched on her face, so menacing that Harry shivered, even though he wasn't directly in the line of fire. She appeared very much like a carved Balkan statue of Satan. "Your little, so-called 'transportation devices' have caused several people to lose their Merlinsdamned fingers! You and your group are very lucky to not have been expelled from Hogwarts - that you are still seated over there, capable of breathing oxygen, is a form of divine mercy. Be glad for this. Now apologize to everyone in the room. All of you!"
The boy who'd been sipping the tea scanned the Great Hall, connected his eyes with the other Hufflepuffs in his clique, and then in less than a second, they seemed to come to a tacit decision. All of them stood up, bowed slightly, and offered various, lukewarm apologies to the people in the room.
"Now sit down, and I want to hear nothing about this ever again."
"Yes, Professor..." They sat back down. The boy who'd made the objection, Mr. Volkov, was gritting his teeth and looking down.
"I suppose we'll bring this up again in two years," Dumbledore added with a slight, uncharacteristic sigh. "Moving on..."
Alright, so, that was something, Harry thought. Any ideas?
Uh, no, Geist replied with a stolid bemusement, Contrary to your earnest faith in me, I am not omniscient. And especially so when it comes to Hufflepuffs. As I imagine it, those children produced some kind of powerful but experimental device - for transportation, apparently - but which was remarkably unstable and resulted in damages to innocent bystanders. I have to agree with Sprout on this - that's kind of screwed up even for a group of 'Puff engineers, and they are pretty lucky to have not been expelled. I've seen people banished from this castle for much less than severed fingers.
After several other public service announcements from Dumbledore - including a reminder to Gryffindor that rounded holograin shards were not to be used as hockey pucks, a reminder to Slytherin upperclassmen that bribing prefects was unlikely to work for a multitude of reasons which he listed, and a warm congratulations to Ravenclaw for winning last year's House Cup alongside a thinly-veiled request to excel and repeat that feat this year lest the other Houses become too uncompetitive - he, finally, announced the beginning of the feast. And, with a thunderous clap of his hands, Dumbledore summoned hundreds of dishes onto the tables of the Great Hall.
Around Harry were scattered plates of full roasted chicken and wings, and buttered turkeys. As sides, there were pots of venison goulash and large bowls of baked potatoes with spring onions and baby carrots with cauliflower, a wide selection of salads containing ripe juicy tomatoes and sour cream poured over salad. An entire wooden board of cheeses and soft creams alongside a beef wellington; Irish stew, haggis, and delicate Welsh cawl. An entire tray of cottage pie was passed around the table. The sheer variety dazzled Harry, even though he'd already felt spoiled for choice whenever Kreacher cooked for them, often providing more dishes than anyone could humanly eat.
After the subsequent feast was concluded, Harry and Neville grouped together with the other new Hufflepuffs and said goodbye to their friends.
As it turned out, the Hufflepuff Common Room was the closest to the Great Hall, only a minute and a half on foot, if you were in a hurry. It was, in fact, adjacent to the kitchen, and the kitchen was located right under the Great Hall. It was, according to one of Harry's seniors, the most supremely convenient Common Room in the castle. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors needed to climb up a seemingly infinite and confusing staircase to get to theirs, and the Slytherins needed to brave the sordid horrors of the Hogwarts dungeon every time they wanted to go back and forth, so the Hufflepuffs had it best in this department.
As soon as they entered - through a stack of barrels coded to a specific pattern of wand tapping - Harry and Neville looked around. The Hufflepuff Common Room was a cozy space, one that seemed to emphasize nature and comfort; in any given spot, there'd be any number of chairs, couches, and sofas to lounge on. The architecture was round and smooth, and even though Harry spotted a few angular lines here and there, none of them were sharp. All metallic surfaces and items were made almost exclusively from copper, and there were many shelves and cabinets scattered around, seemingly with items for communal use, as well as potted plants and flowers.
The arrived Hufflepuffs subsequently dispersed throughout the Common Room and decisively got down to whatever business they were up to, while the older Hufflepuff involved in the group that Dumbledore and Sprout had castigated, the one who'd been called Mr. Volkov by Sprout, clutched his temples and screamed up at the ceiling from the center of the room, his voice practically shaking with anger, "Rraaagh! Damn that Dumbledore! And damn that traitor Sprout! They're starting to get on my nerves!"
A few Hufflepuffs watched this happen in various states of commiseration but ultimately continued to converse and do other things. However, curious about the event, both Neville and Harry lingered in order to listen and watch. Most of the First-Years stood near the Common Room entrance, unsure as to what to do with themselves.
"It was a good run, Dusty," a platinum blonde-haired girl replied, laying a hand on Volkov's shoulder. "But we did sever a few fingers."
"And you did get us in trouble, you moron," said another boy, the one who'd been sipping tea. He walked around them, in front of Dusty, and put a hand on his collar, shaking him slightly. "I told you it was a terrible damn idea to launch so early, but you didn't listen."
"Screw them! We'll keep designing in secret."
"It doesn't work that way, Dusty," cut in a prefect - a boy in his Seventh Year, with sandy hair and tired eyes, "I'll have to report anything of the sort. And you know that - it's for your own good. Just let it go. If we manage to go on for a couple of months without incident, they'll release the yoke and you can try something else."
"Whatever," Dusty replied. "Handle the Firsties, Bucket. I need to go back to my projects."
"You Muggles and your science," muttered the tea-drinking boy from earlier. He put a hand on his forehead, then rubbed down, pulling it across his entire face; and finally, with heavy weariness, he sighed. "I'll go to the Room of Requirements and grab some metal."
"I didn't ask," Dusty said, a little miffed.
The other boy smirked. "You were going to."
"What's going on?" Harry, finally, cut in. "Maybe we can help? We could talk to Dumbledore and tell him why your project is important."
"It's nothing that you guys need to concern yourselves about," said the boy who'd been calmly sipping tea. He wrapped one arm around Volkov's back. "I'm Asmund Fawley, event planner extraordinaire, and this is Duncan Volkov - inventor, genius, and explorer - though everyone calls him Dusty."
"Yeah," the prefect cut in, arms folded in skepticism. "Dusty Volkov - destroyer of property, obsessed maniac, and the one who's always sitting in detention."
"I hate you guys," Dusty muttered.
"I'm Nova Goldfinch," said the girl, a hand on her chest. "Say, do you enjoy... creative engineering?"
"Don't corrupt them, please," pleaded the prefect, suddenly.
"It's too late for that, I think," Neville said, unblinking.
"I'm Gareth Williams," the prefect said as if sensing that he should introduce himself now. "Seventh Year prefect, and starting this year, I'll also be the Head Boy. And woe to me for that, I suppose..."
"And we call him Mr. Bucket," Asmund interjected, jabbing his thumb in Gareth's general direction. "It's because, at the end of the day, he's merely a container for the water the teachers put into him. And no one wants to drink chalky water from a rusty bucket."
"Only you three call me that," Gareth answered, glaring at them with a low growl. He glanced at Harry and Neville, and several other First-Years who'd gathered behind them to watch the proceedings. "And I hope you do not get any ideas. But I digress. I need you First-Years to come with me, so I can explain a few things about how Hufflepuff works. It's necessary to get this out of the way as soon as possible."
And so, they were led into the basement of the Hufflepuff Common Room - a single level under the typical dungeon height - and then down several rooms and hallways, which forced Harry, Neville, and Geist to realize that the Hufflepuff Common Room was almost stupendously large because the general impression they were getting was that what they were seeing was merely a fraction of the full thing and it already dwarfed the Great Hall in terms of volume.
As they walked, they passed by and overheard a number of upper-year Hufflepuffs discussing various matters, ranging from ordinary Hogwarts studies to, 'monitoring global finances.' A string of words that Harry never thought he'd hear uttered so casually yet seriously in any scenario, especially one where the implication was supposed to be such that a cabal of people with a badger as their emblem was having a hand in manipulating said finances. They passed by a room where several girls and boys wearing Muggle labcoats were performing seemingly mundane chemical experiments, using beakers, burners, pipettes, and other such tools.
After several minutes, they neared their goal, and Gareth started to speak.
"All Hufflepuffs who enter Hogwarts in their First Year face a choice - a serious dilemma, I'd even say. Although we stand outwardly undivided, the fascinating truth is that internally, the House is divided into two distinct categories," said Gareth. "These are formally recognized as Outer Circle and Inner Circle Hufflepuffs. Already, all of you belong to the Outer Circle by default of being Sorted to our House; to enter the Inner Circle is equal parts burden and privilege. However, as time passes, most Hufflepuffs choose to be initiated into the Inner Circle, with an exponential gradient of those who choose to do such as the years spent in Hogwarts increase. The benefits simply outweigh the demerits in almost any scenario. If you refuse in the present but desire to change your mind later on, contact me for initiation. I should mention that it's not possible to revert from Inner Circle to Outer Circle through any method known to us - it's a lifelong commitment, though I am told the magic loses some of its potency after your twenties."
A girl at the back raised a hand. Gareth nodded at her.
"Uhm, so, what's being a part of the Inner Circle entail?"
The corners of Gareth's mouth quirked up. "Every House in Hogwarts has its own, special artifact - an item forged by its Founder and passed onto us, remaining here for countless generations. In our case, it's the Cup of Hufflepuff, though some with a penchant for dramatic reverence call it the Chalice."
He opened the door to a room, one almost at the dead-end of the basement.
Within, there was only a stone pedestal with a golden chalice on top, as well as a hole in the ceiling through which a ray of moonlight shone down. The chalice was intricately carved, Harry noted, with the visage of a badger, orange topazes replacing its eyes. It also had a pair of finely-wrought golden handles.
"If you desire to join the Inner Circle, then I'll fill the Cup of Hufflepuff with blood, and perform a secret ritual to consecrate it. After that, each of you will also bleed into the Cup, and then, all of you will drink from it. As a result of this, a mystical bond will be formed. And from that point on, you will be a member of the Inner Circle, and enjoy the benefits which that entails - the unquestioning friendship and loyalty of any other Inner Circle member. All Inner Circle members instinctively desire to protect and help one another, preferring to act in collaboration; the strong shield and act on behalf of the weak; the talented pull up the talentless; the influential pull strings for the black sheep."
So... Geist said, with a hint of enlightenment in his voice, as if he'd seen a new vista of the world, This is how the Hufflepuffs do it. Absolute loyalty to one another. There's no mistrust, no sincere or genuine hostility - no allowance of such an element. A single House united, with perfect capacity for cooperation and collaboration. And clearly, they retain free will, otherwise, they'd be unable to get on one another's nerves so masterfully. I want to study this artifact. I want to see how it works its magic.
"And that," Gareth continued, turning around, "is what it means to be a member of the Inner Circle. As I said - a lifelong commitment, to the House, to your friends. It's not a choice to be taken lightly. My suggestion is that you think carefully - there is always time to perform the ritual later on, and not being in the Inner Circle does not exclude you from being a Hufflepuff. Although we may lack the instinct for it, we'll do our best to protect you, and the ethos of Hufflepuff is that no one shall be excluded, regardless of their choice. Now, let's start with a show of hands. Is there anyone who's tentatively interested?"
At his side, Neville seemed to consider the question but did not raise his hand yet. Although most of them seemed to be nervous and vacillated, including the girl who'd asked her question earlier, a single boy at the back did raise his own hand after some thought, followed by another one.
I am, spiritually speaking, in favor of this, Geist said. It sounds pretty great.
---
[ ] Raise Hand - Join the Hufflepuff Inner Circle.
[ ] Stay Hand - Another day, perhaps.
[-] Ask Question (Write-in) - I'll do my best to answer questions in a timely fashion; answers will be IC, as if answered by Gareth, and said Q&A might be included in the next update in some form, if considered relevant.
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- Location
- Ostren
[X] Raise Hand - Join the Hufflepuff Inner Circle.
Why not?
Why not?
- Location
- USA
[X] Raise Hand - Join the Hufflepuff Inner Circle.
Time to join this madness.
Time to join this madness.
Barondoctor
The things I chase come to me.
- Location
- The other side of the mirror
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
[X] Raise Hand - Join the Hufflepuff Inner Circle.
One step for a young man. One flying leap for Puff Kind.
One step for a young man. One flying leap for Puff Kind.
[X] Stay Hand - Another day, perhaps.
I am very much against any forms of mental influence.
I am very much against any forms of mental influence.
- Location
- USA
Well we picked this route with Lord of Hufflepuff. Would be a massive waste to go through with this.
Solarstream
It's all in the cards
- Location
- Zombie World
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Stay Hand - Another day, perhaps.
