#pulled from another tumblr
Legilimency. No one has ever been exactly sure how it works. If you truly read the targets mind, or if you simply receive their memories as you demand them. There have been studies of course, but all have been so vague, and so indistinct in their results.
And so of course, a new set of studies were drawn up, wixes from around the world believed to be experts in the field brought together.
Oddly it started with forays into the studies muggles had made into the workings of the human mind, into the sensation of presences not there, to religious experiences, to tests with supposed psychics.
Once the wixes felt they had a decent base of non-magical information they started probing into the magical ones. The perfect recall of a Jobberknoll. The chilling, fear-inspiring sensation of a Dementor. The existence of Ghosts.Atlantean Octopi.
No wix is entirely certain as to how legilimency works, even now. While certain creatures are known to affect people, while certain creatures are believed to be natural legilimens even after all this study its hard to know what is true.
Poskovitz and Baum are certain that Legilimency causes the targets brain to emit thoughts on a semi-magnetic frequency, and allows the caster to pick up on and understand them, the excess magical requirements for emitting the thoughts being what causes the sensation of pain as someone’s mind is read.
Cohen and Rheon believe that magical creatures with mental effects, such as Atlantean Octopi, and Dementors, emit frequencies that magical minds can pick up on which is why their effects are lessened and often unnoticed by muggles.
Khayyám and Ming believe that the practice of Legilimency constitutes an invasion of privacy and should be made illegal by the ICW.
Of course, none of these brilliant wixes get along any longer.
(Atlantean Octopi the invention of underwater-witchery. Ideas born of Headcanoning between tobermoriansass and myself.)
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HP NOIR AU: Luna Lovegood
On the outskirts of the city, just slightly beyond the grasp of the neon lights, overgrown malls, and broken highways, there is an old white house with a little picket fence. “The girl who lives there is a witch,” the locals say, and stay away from the house, despite its welcoming gardens and never closed doors. “The girl there can see into your past.”
The guests from the city, survivors of many lives, predictably laugh at such old-age fears. “What kind of a gift is that?” they say with a scoff. “If she could see into my future, now that would be something to discuss.” But the villagers only shake their heads in reply, until someone starts explaining, patiently, quietly, as if to a child. “She sees the ghosts. Some are dragged on chains behind those who cruelly refused to let them find the serenity of death. Others, they are wandering side by side with those who did not notice they were gone. And then there is the third kind, the most desired, yet almost unnoticeable; far ahead, they are paving the way for those who could not move on. Luna sees them all. She does not speak with them; ghosts do not talk; she says they’ve said enough. They do not listen; they’ve heard enough. And they never, ever leave; they have nowhere else to go.”
Then a silence falls over the dining table, and the guests shift uncomfortably in their chairs, stealing glances into the windows, trying to catch Luna’s reflection on the frozen glass. Someone shivers, and someone else throws wood into the fireplace, to keep away the sudden cold.
The next day the guests from the city too avoid the old white house with a little picket fence, just to be safe, and shamefully lower their eyes passing Luna in the street, hoping she would not look at them, hoping she would not see. They leave abruptly in the middle of the night, never to come back, and, like thunder after lightning, their ghosts follow.
Untouched by the city’s esurient hands, the town stays still.
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HP NOIR AU: The murder of Albus Dumbledore
There are three men in a room and two of them will die.
This is not a philosophical debate, not the premise of a logic puzzle; there is no way out of this. One way or another, the three men always end up in the same room, and the consequence is inevitable. All one can do is decide who leaves.
One man leaves the room and he is born in it; this is the second part, the part they always forget to tell, but it is important. You can’t get to the punchline without it.
The punchline is, of course, that he can never leave. He, the last man standing, makes the room in his soul for the ghosts in the shape of the place he was born in, and he feeds them with his blood until they are hungry no more.
But the ghosts are always hungry. See, this story is now filled with contradictions. No one can tell it right.
It was never a good story, anyway; quite meaningless, in the grand scheme of things.
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We’ve all searched for fanfic before. We’ve all looked through page after page of fics which aren’t our ship, or are a ship we disagree with, or which simply don’t sound interesting.
We also don’t appear to yet have a consistent tag for Potterverse fics set away from Hogwarts and Great Britain, fics which explore the magical world beyond the world it was set in. With asheathes recent series of wizarding schools posts people have begun to think more widely about about what the magical world away from Great Britain might be like.
This is an invitation! Send in the fics you know of that are set in India, Egypt, Japan, Argentina - anywhere! Ones set in Durmstrang, or a magical school entirely new and invented by you! Don’t limit yourself to the UK - send in fics you’ve read, fics you’ve loved, fics you’ve written, and help us create a cohesive list of Harry Potter Fanfiction that doesn’t even mention his name.
After all - the world is bigger than just the UK.
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