>>4964739
His camera's yours now. Collecting precious memories of those who step out of line will make for a wonderful treasure horde. You rifle through the photos he kept with the gun beneath his desk, and - my oh my. You don't know when or how he took photos of you in the shower, but he certainly knew how to catch your good side. He had good taste too, as there's more photos of you than any of the other orphan girls. They might call you a narcissist, but you'll be keeping those for personal reasons.

If only you could stay so youthful and vigorous. You'd rather not be faced with time's withered grasp, forced by the ages to "blossom" with useless meat on your chest and eventually wither into a crone like Mother Annette. Gymnastics and healthy living can only delay such horrors for so long, after all.

Choose as many as you'd like.
>Kick the pederast's corpse.
>Take the gun, and hide it like you hide the more rebellious girls in the men's bathroom.
>Paint words of warning on the walls with the pederast's blood.
>Go assure your favorite puppet that he won't sully her again
>You got blood on your toes. Take a shower to get that foul ichor off.
>Get dressed in your leotard.
>Get dressed in your uniform.
>Practice your gymanstics.
>(Write in)

>>4964739
>Take the gun, and hide it like you hide the more rebellious girls in the men's bathroom.
>You got blood on your toes. Take a shower to get that foul ichor off.
A very cute, and potentially funny quest indeed...

>>4964740
>Kick the pederast's corpse.
>Take the gun, and hide it like you hide the more rebellious girls in the men's bathroom.
>You got blood on your toes. Take a shower to get that foul ichor off.
>Get dressed in your leotard.
>Go assure your favorite puppet that he won't sully her again
>Practice your gymanstics.

In that order, if you'd please.

>>4964740
>>Kick the pederast's corpse.
>>Take the gun, and hide it like you hide the more rebellious girls in the men's bathroom.
>>You got blood on your toes. Take a shower to get that foul ichor off.

>>4964750
Supporting

>>4964740
>Kick the pederast's corpse.
>Paint words of warning on the walls with the pederast's blood.
>Go assure your favorite puppet that he won't sully her again
>You got blood on your toes. Take a shower to get that foul ichor off.
>Get dressed in your leotard.
>Practice your gymanstics.

>>4964740
Keep it simple, if the gun goes missing or words of warning are written in his blood, people will ask questions. We don't need to deal with questions
>Get dressed in your leotard
>Go assure your favorite puppet that he won't sully her again

>>4964740
>(Write in)
Go on 4chan and shitpost

>>4964740
>You got blood on your toes. Take a shower to get that foul ichor off.
>Practice your gymanstics.
It would make for a very suspicious "suicide" if the gun went missing. Not to mention that I doubt we will really need it

>>4964745
Supporting.

File: More Lolimort.jpg (198 KB, 1448x2048)

198 KB JPG

The gun had fallen out of the pederast's hands, so like his camera, it's yours now. It's a good feeling, taking trophies from those who make themselves your enemy. Not as good as the kicks to the ribs that you give his rotting carcass, but perhaps you should do it more often. Sadly, your enemies among the orphans have little enough as it is, so stealing the adoration and attention your puppet-like peers give you will have to suffice.

The Queen of Wool's is to be loved, feared, and respected. Resentment is not something you wish to cultivate in the garden of their hearts.

You hide the gun away in your hands. You don't understand how it works, but if you think about it hard enough, you can hide things in plain sight. For people, it usually lasts two or three days until someone notices them, about as long as your orders last. You only use that on the girls who really refuse to pay you the respect you're due. Having the boys use those bitches as a urinal for a few days usually reminds them of who's the Queen.

Objects stay hidden until you reveal them. That comes in handy when you're bored during lessons, and want to play with the "hysterics treatment" you filched from Mother Annette's desk. Bullshit on that being a medical device, by the way. It's the same sort of prurient interest that the corpse had for your favorite puppet, just for a vibrating stick that's vaguely shaped like a dick.

Though you can't blame her, it really does feel nice.

Too bad you didn't bring it with you to gymnastics practice - taking it with you into the shower would be nice, to bask in the afterglow of the thrill of the kill. Though, looking at the corner of the shower room, your favorite puppet looks like she could use it more, for its actual purpose. You helped her clean herself out from the corpse's seed before you went off to meet him, but she's still sitting in a ball, curled up and shaking.

"Oh no, Tammy... did he...?" your puppet sees your state of undress, and jumps to a reasonable conclusion. It's wrong, but it's reasonable, and you won't punish her for it.

"Didn't you hear the noise, Rose? Some bloke he was meeting with shot him in the head," you lie as easily as you breathe, not missing a beat as you lather your hair with the half pence lavender shampoo the orphanage keeps in stock. Rose blinks, either not expecting your answer or not expecting you to be so nonchalant about it. Maybe seeing the bastard shoot himself should have bothered you? But why should you care about the life of a rapist and pederast? You don't quite get it. "Big guy, sounded Russian, had a funny hat on with a hammer and sickle on it."

"A hammer and sickle?" Rose asks.

“A hammer and sickle,” you say with a nod.
>Muh character count

>>4965776
Rose slowly rises to her feet, and you’re reminded that she’s one of the few girls here who doesn’t need cute clothes to be cute. Even naked as the day she was born, with eyes red with tears, you would peg her as the second most adorable girl in the orphanage. You’re the first – you’re the Queen, after all - but her bright red hair and shy demeanor gives her some MAJOR points in your opinion. Plus, she’s just so huggable, she’s been your favorite pillow for years now.

“I heard about that on the radio.” You and Rose share some skinship as you wash eachother off. Some of that bastard’s stuff got caked onto her chest, so you’re extra careful to scrub that away. She returns the favor, washing your back. All the while, engaging in some idle chatter. “About how they were even bloodier than the frogs when they killed their King.”

“And they did all sorts of nasty things to his daughters, too.” You make a face at the thought. You won’t let yourself get overthrown so easily.

“You think he would have…?” Rose trails off, but it’s not hard to imagine her meaning.

“Maybe Mr. Ackerman offered him a bad price on my virginity,” you say with a shrug. As she dries herself off with an old towel, Rose stops and gives you a look like you just killed a man. Right, a Queen who doesn’t take her subject’s feelings into consideration is a poor ruler indeed, you’re well read enough to know that. “Or maybe he got involved in something he shouldn’t have. Who knows, he could have been one of the King’s men on the inside of the party?”

“He was too handsome to be a spy,” Rose sniffed. You would have to disagree – silver fox he might have been, but younger men are more your speed. You want to build a throne out of them… you wonder if you could persuade some of the boys to do that for you. “Everyone knows spies are lowly, and ugly, and spend all their time digging through the trash.”

Now dried off yourself, you slip into your leotard.

Rose had gotten into her uniform, and sort of stares at you when you changed into something else.

“Hey, I’m not going to let a dead coach get in the way of practice,” you say. Especially not one who deserved everything that came to him, like Ackerman did. “You can head back if you want, but would you mind telling Mother Annette that coach got killed?”

Rose leaves, leaving you alone in the gym to practice.
>Choices in the next post

>>4965777
>Actually, you’re awful at gymnastics. You’d much rather be reading, but there are expectations of Wool’s Queen that you must fulfil.
>You’re alright at gymnastics. Nothing special, but nothing out of the ordinary, simply a way to keep a healthy body to house your healthy mind.
>You’re good at gymnastics. Quite good, you’ve actually taken a few medals, and became a person of note.
>As with all things Tammy Morgana Riddle tries her hand at, you are a prodigy of gymnastics, peerless among your team and winner of the London gold for two years running. The papers thought you’d be ready for the Olypmics in seven years. Perhaps that’s why Ackerman never laid his hands on you, even though you KNEW he wanted to – you were too notable.

>>4965778
>Actually, you’re awful at gymnastics. You’d much rather be reading, but there are expectations of Wool’s Queen that you must fulfil.

>>4965777
>As with all things Tammy Morgana Riddle tries her hand at, you are a prodigy of gymnastics, peerless among your team and winner of the London gold for two years running. The papers thought you’d be ready for the Olypmics in seven years. Perhaps that’s why Ackerman never laid his hands on you, even though you KNEW he wanted to – you were too notable.

We don't have to be that good, but I don't think such a silly thing as 'reality' would really stop Tam her from trying her best and making everyone believe that she's the best in every way possible.

Also, lovely trips btw.

>>4965778
thinks this:
>>As with all things Tammy Morgana Riddle tries her hand at, you are a prodigy of gymnastics, peerless among your team and winner of the London gold for two years running. The papers thought you’d be ready for the Olypmics in seven years. Perhaps that’s why Ackerman never laid his hands on you, even though you KNEW he wanted to – you were too notable.
but actually:
>You’re alright at gymnastics. Nothing special, but nothing out of the ordinary, simply a way to keep a healthy body to house your healthy mind.

>>4964739
>Tammy Morgana Riddle

'I am Lady...

Morgtremand?'
Gordremmant?'
Redtrognamm?'
Rednammtrog'?
Memdorrgant?'
Gantmemdorr?'
Garmtredmon?'
Garmmontred'?

>>4965778
>>As with all things Tammy Morgana Riddle tries her hand at, you are a prodigy of gymnastics, peerless among your team and winner of the London gold for two years running. The papers thought you’d be ready for the Olypmics in seven years. Perhaps that’s why Ackerman never laid his hands on you, even though you KNEW he wanted to – you were too notable.

>>4965778
>A prodigy

I can't IMAGINE what potential uses this would give us.

>>4965778
>Actually, you’re awful at gymnastics. You’d much rather be reading, but there are expectations of Wool’s Queen that you must fulfil.
We really shine at getting the other girls heads' in the game though.

>>4965852
Tammy Morgana Riddle
Tammy is an abbreviation Tamar, Tamara or Tabitha but I'm not sure, so I'll just use Tammy.

I-A-M L-A-D-Y should be removed. Meaning constants: Tm mrgn Rd
Vowels: o a e

Are remainders.
Of all that, I like Lady Dormmagnt best. Dorm-mag-ant as pronounced.

>>4965912
>Dormmagent
Missed the E.

>>4964739
I want Tammy to use my face as her chair. No mind control needed but that would make it even better.

>>4965919
The charisma cult has already spread from the thread to anons.

Damn she is scary.

>>4965778
>>You’re good at gymnastics. Quite good, you’ve actually taken a few medals, and became a person of note.

>>4965817
this
We simply don't allow anyone else at any tournament to be better than us whether intentionally or subconsciously

>>4965852
I don't think it's worth the effort to shoehorn something in, I rather we'd be able to change our second name and come up wiwht something like that

>>4965791
I just think its funny for someone so powerful to be awful at exercise.

>>4966205
I think her rather enjoying gymnastics would be a nice spin on this. Plus, all the other wizards are nerds, but none of them are gymnasts. Just imagine the crazy bullshit she can pull off in Quidditch alone by being a Olympic bound prodigy.

File: Lolimort in her Happy Place.png (386 KB, 800x1200)

386 KB PNG

So, I didn't know this earlier, but apparently the youngest Olympic Medalist was 10. So, tiebreaking for Prodigy, I decided to have Lolimort outdo him and take the gold at 9 and a half.

To think five years ago, the gymnasium at wools was little more than an open room on the first floor - cramped, dusty, and barely enough space for you or any of the other girls to practice. Here and now, as you practice alone, the gym might well be the most modern part of Wool's Orphanage, though continuing renovations will change that with time. The reason why is another notch on your belt, another reason that you crowned yourself the Queen of Wool's, and none of your so-called peers think to dispute it.

All anyone needs to do is look at the banners on the walls, or see whose name is on the many trophies that fill the display case in the office of the late Mr. Ackerman.

Tammy Morgana Riddle.

A name you can be proud of, because you took that name and carved it into the hearts and minds of every person on the planet when you snuck off to the Olympics two years ago to steal the title of youngest medalist from that Greek gymnast who took bronze the first games. You also took the gold in gymnastics, to grab the title as the youngest gold medalist, too. Mother Annette had some choice words for you about running off to Berlin, as you may have forgotten to tell people where you were going.

Not that it was any of their business. At least Mother calmed down when the endorsement money came in and bought Wool's some sorely-needed renovations.

The other orphans... well, you don't flaunt the fact that you helped to fund the renovations that gave them a nice modern building in that chic American art-deco style, along with all the facilities that came with it. After all, names like Rothschild and Cadogan were happy to donate to a public work to help the living situation of an orphan Olympian - old money like them knows good will has value. But there's a reason you're the Queen, all the orphans understand on some level that the rising tide you brought raised their boats.
>Muh length cap

>>4966333
To think you used to hate this place. Now its your castle, your territory, filled with your people from whom flow love, respect, and fear in equal measure. You invest in them, they invest in you, and just trying to keep up with you, your precious puppets became better than they were. These last two years, yours weren't the only trophies and medals to be found in the trophy room. After all, while you might be the undisputed greatest gymnast in the world right now, you can't win both silver and gold.

Frankly, you expect nothing less than for your precious puppets to sweep the competition, anything else would reflect poorly on you.

Of course, the gold is nice, and it will go unspoiled for an eternity for gold does not corrode within time's withering grasp. You must not forget why you began practicing gymnastics in the first place, for as much as you enjoy the hobby, it remains a means to an end. They say a healthy mind lives in a healthy body, and science shows that a gymnast's life can ward away the ravages of puberty for a decade. Which means you have maybe fifteen years to find your way to eternity, an ageless state of being.

That's the real gold medal. Everything else is meaningless.

If only something as convenient as magic existed, you might be able to find what you seek.

You bring your practice to an end, finishing in a full split, your body arched backwards and the ribbon in your hand slowly falling through the air, draping you in a rope-like length pink silken cloth. Your flat chest rises and falls, your body rewarding your effort with a sense of deep contentment. This routine was something you made up on the fly, but perhaps if you refine it a bit more, you can bring it to the 1942 olympics and take another gold medal.

To the side, you can hear someone clapping. You must have given them quite the show.
Who is clapping?
>Mother Annette, she always approved of your practice... and how the medals you won and the articles written about you led to Wool's endowment growing fatter and fatter.
>Freddy Rowland, the current sheriff of London. He must have been in the neighborhood when the call went out about the gunshot that killed Mr. Ackerman.
>Sister Alba, one of the younger sisters who helps run the orphanage. Your "big sis" has apparently come to fetch you to Mother Annette's office, probably about Mr. Ackerman.
>An extremely handsome man with rich auburn hair flecked with just enough salt among the dark red pepper that it makes him look dignified, rather than old. You feel odd looking at him... is this what the other girls call a crush?
>(Write in)

>>4966335
>>An extremely handsome man with rich auburn hair flecked with just enough salt among the dark red pepper that it makes him look dignified, rather than old. You feel odd looking at him... is this what the other girls call a crush?
It's never too young to have a crush!

>>4966335
>Sister Alba, one of the younger sisters who helps run the orphanage. Your "big sis" has apparently come to fetch you to Mother Annette's office, probably about Mr. Ackerman.

A big sis? My my, don't we have quite the adopted family?

>>4966335
>>An extremely handsome man with rich auburn hair flecked with just enough salt among the dark red pepper that it makes him look dignified, rather than old. You feel odd looking at him... is this what the other girls call a crush?

>>4966335
>>An extremely handsome man with rich auburn hair flecked with just enough salt among the dark red pepper that it makes him look dignified, rather than old. You feel odd looking at him... is this what the other girls call a crush?
Mystery man ! Give me your strongest plot hook !

>>4966392
>Mystery man

Lol.

>>4966397
On second thought, plot hook seller have worked better with the joke.

>>4966335
>>An extremely handsome man with rich auburn hair flecked with just enough salt among the dark red pepper that it makes him look dignified, rather than old. You feel odd looking at him... is this what the other girls call a crush?

just how old is lolimort right now?

>>4966443
It's July of 1938. She turned 11 seven months ago and will be set to go to a certain boarding school in a few weeks. She snuck off to the Berlin Olypmics in 1936, and may have a photo with a certain funny mustache man who the world stage still sort of likes at this point in time because he hasn't invaded France yet.

File: IMG_3030.png (633 KB, 578x818)

633 KB PNG

>>4966458
>Lolimort, 1936 colorized

>>4966335
>>>An extremely handsome man with rich auburn hair flecked with just enough salt among the dark red pepper that it makes him look dignified, rather than old. You feel odd looking at him... is this what the other girls call a crush?

>>4966335
>An extremely handsome man with rich auburn hair flecked with just enough salt among the dark red pepper that it makes him look dignified, rather than old. You feel odd looking at him... is this what the other girls call a crush?
Mhhhh plot.
>>4966458
Ah shit this is the year Dumbledore comes to whisk us away.
Wonder if we can smuggle our hug pillow into Hogwarts.

File: Albuff Dumbbelldore.jpg (60 KB, 625x1000)

60 KB JPG

"Well done, Miss Riddle, well done indeed," a man's voice from near the glass doors to the gymnasium accompanies the light applause that greets the conclusion of your free practice. Light and friendly, respect for your talent flowing through his words, unaccompanied by the fear or adoration the precious puppets you know regard you with. "If you're finished with your practice, would you have a moment to talk? I would like to speak with you regarding an opportunity for children of exceptional talent, such as yourself."

From the languid split you ended on, you wordlessly tumble backwards and onto your feet with the same effortless grace that encompasses your every motion. This would not be the first time some scam artist has come to try and extract tuition from you for classes that are entirely worthless.

Though looking at the man, he's much less scummy than most scammers.

The con-artists that Mother Annette usually shoos away tend to be greasy looking fellows in colorless suits with a tasteless, minor title appended to their name, usually esquire. They tend to either be lanky beanpoles who wear clothes two sizes two big for them, or squat, fat men who eat too much cake and drink too much coke. The man in the door is neither of those things.

To start, he's as big as Beowulf. At nearly five feet tall, you're a big girl, but this man must be nearly half again as tall as you are. Rich auburn hair that flows down to his shoulders frames a heroically chiseled face with a neatly trimmed red beard that has just enough salt in it to add a touch of wizened dignity to a handsome man who can't be that far beyond his third decade. His arms are thick as tree trunks, and his shoulders are broad as a battleship. He definitely earned that figure through hard work, but in the gym rather than the fields, given that his skin remains relatively fair and untouched by too much sun.

That heroic figure strains to be contained by the well-fitted white suit he wears. The coattails are a tasteful length, and beneath the jacket he wears a black vest and matching tie over a shirt whose rich red matches his hair. The thing that stands out the most besides his size is the black cloak he has draped atop his shoulders, like an old lord or perhaps a knight of the modern day. Oddly, where a wristwatch would have been, you see a bracer with a finely polished rod of ebony ready to spring forth with a flourish of the wrists.

All in all, a single look is all you need of him. Perhaps it's your girlish heart being set aflutter, imagining how firm-yet-gentle such a strong and hardy man can be to one as svelte and girlish as you, but you've come to a decision. Is this what the other girls would call a crush?

No, you're smarter than that.

A ten year plan begins to form in your mind. You're going to marry this man. For now though, you need your heart to stop pounding in your ears, and play it cool.
>Muh text limits

>>4966623
"You spoke with Mother Annette?" you keep your voice steady and level, trying not to act like one of the girls you rewarded with a bit of a confidence boost.

"Indeed, when I explained everything to her, she told me where to find you," the man says. That means... well, Mother Annette usually has a good nose for 'finks' as she calls them, so you assume you can trust this man. The fact that he's in your strike zone and you want to find eternity even more so that you can preserve such an intrepidly beautiful specimen of manhood has nothing to do with it. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, a professor at a very prestigious institution in northern Scottland for children of particular talents. Tell me, Miss Riddle, has anything ever happened around you that you could not explain?"

Albus Dumbledore, huh? Your eyes dart for his hand, and you don't see a ring.

Good. That means he's a bachelor. The ten year plan begins to take shape - first finding eternity, then bagging Albus Dumbledore by any means necessary. Of course, if he's not amenable to letting you keep Rose as your pillow once you're married... well, that's what your persuasion is for.

"I could think of a few things." You don't let your words betray your thoughts. You need to conceal any interest you have until you've honed your feminine wiles enough to capture this perfect man in a scholar's mate. You don't want to let him know about your Charisma, either, at least not directly. "I mean, an orphan girl taking the gold in the Olympics and shaking hands with the German Chancellor is kind of strange, isn't it?"

Albus smiles, and it's enough to make you weak in the knees. "I think that can be readily explained by an abundance of drive and talent, Miss Riddle. Nothing strange about it. What I mean is, things that are truly inexplicable..."

How do you answer Dumbledore?
>Well, when I was young, I always won at hide and seek. No one ever seemed to notice me when I was hiding, even if they were looking right at me.
>Back when Wool's wasn't so well off, whenever Mother Annette tasked me with handing out bread and soup, we always somehow had enough that everyone could have seconds or even thirds.
>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.
>There are times where I'm feeling tired, or too weak to do something, and then I just find a second wind out of nowhere.
>(Write In)

>>4966626
>Albus Dumbledore
Holy shit Albus got them gains when he was younger.

>Back when Wool's wasn't so well off, whenever Mother Annette tasked me with handing out bread and soup, we always somehow had enough that everyone could have seconds or even thirds.
We mini-Jesus.

>>4966626
>When wools wasn't so well off

Parselmouth is a gift to keep well hidden.

>>4966626
>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.

gotta get the tie-in

>>4966626
>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.
>There are times where I'm feeling tired, or too weak to do something, and then I just find a second wind out of nowhere.

I'd like to take my pet with me. And Timothy as well.

>>4966626
>>Back when Wool's wasn't so well off, whenever Mother Annette tasked me with handing out bread and soup, we always somehow had enough that everyone could have seconds or even thirds.

>>4966626
>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.
Timothy is well behaved

>>4966626
>>Back when Wool's wasn't so well off, whenever Mother Annette tasked me with handing out bread and soup, we always somehow had enough that everyone could have seconds or even thirds.
>>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.
Can we remain young forever?

>>4966668
Maybe by becoming a vampire.

>>4966626
>>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.

>>4966626
>Back when Wool's wasn't so well off, whenever Mother Annette tasked me with handing out bread and soup, we always somehow had enough that everyone could have seconds or even thirds.

File: 97a01cd89da859ef9d170f5d9(...).jpg (148 KB, 1080x1282)

148 KB JPG

https://youtu.be/nShy8LO1UK0
Snakes a dumb with smooth aerodynamic brains so they can stupid faster.

>>4966623
>that filename
Also, I think the food thing violates one of the Laws of Magic, where you can't really conjure satisfying food out of thin air. I guess you could say that she's just redistributing the mass or something, making it appear like there's more when you're really only getting half the nutrition. Magic can probably pull it off.

>>4966898
You can't conjure food, but you can increase the quantity of food if you already have some (which is why it was denoted that it didn't seem to run out, rather than just making some from "nothing"). It's a rather odd distinction, but as long as you have a loaf of bread, you can photocopy it as much as you'd like.

You simply can't be in a desert without any rations and just create some from the air. If you have an MRE or a pot of stew, you can multiply it, though.

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Gamp%27s_Law_of_Elemental_Transfiguration

>>4966898
Are there laws or sources that say that? Cant magic do that? What if we're subconsciously steals someone's food by teleporting it to the orphanage?

>>4966915
Dope as fuck

>>4966626
>Back when Wool's wasn't so well off, whenever Mother Annette tasked me with handing out bread and soup, we always somehow had enough that everyone could have seconds or even thirds.

>>4966917
Entirely possible, and OP has already corrected my half-forgotten memories.
https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Gamp%27s_Law_of_Elemental_Transfiguration
Such a weird restriction to have when you can apparently photocopy food just fine. Slap some preservation charms in a bigger-on-the-inside bag and you could mass produce a feast basically whenever.

>>4966626
>>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.

>>4966626
>>There are times where I'm feeling tired, or too weak to do something, and then I just find a second wind out of nowhere.

>>4966626
>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.
>I'd like to take my pet with me. And Timothy as well.

>>4967186
Funny as it would be to have said that, lets not tip our hand too quickly.

>>4967188
Awww.

But fair.

>>4966626
>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.

>>4966626
>>Back when Wool's wasn't so well off, whenever Mother Annette tasked me with handing out bread and soup, we always somehow had enough that everyone could have seconds or even thirds.
>>I met a snake in the garden once and had a conversation with him. He's a good little noodle that I named Timothy. Uh, don't tell Mother Annette, but I miiiiiight be keeping him in my room with Rose and me.
If we can only get one, preference for infinite food. We have a chance at making a follower centric build and become Hufflepuff Voldemort so let's make sure we can feed the minions.
Hiding seems like a natural extension of something we already have, and that we can probably get eventually.
Second wind could be good, but I don't know if it would help with magical exhaustion, and we are already at [i] peak loli performance [/i] , so it isn't so necessary.

>>4966626
>>Back when Wool's wasn't so well off, whenever Mother Annette tasked me with handing out bread and soup, we always somehow had enough that everyone could have seconds or even thirds.
lolimort, our lord and savior

>>4966898
>>4966917
>>4967055
I think it's best to ignore parts of jk rowlings worldbuilding
best explanation here would be that you can spread out the nutritional value. while it filled the bellies, it unfortunately didn't give them the exact nutrients such a mass would entail.

>>4967321
Sometime what you think is best, isnt the best.

>>4967342
I agree, but since you are able to conjure living beings but can't conjure food, the possibilities and limitations that her magic system entail don't make sense.

what I meant to make sense is that you cannot create real value that would pass inspection
why would anyone in that world still value gold if it can be created

but what explanation do you think would be better?

>>4967357
>but what explanation do you think would be better?
lmao I dont really care at this given time. I wanna play the loli jesus and spam bread and fish. I'll come back to you later with something more insightful.

>>4967215
The hat isn't putting us in anything but slytherin. Our personality fits too perfectly.

>>4967392
Yeah, I figured, its just that a concept for a loyalty based Harry Potter villain floated around the /qtg/ a while back, and her current reign over the orphanage has echoes of that.

>>4967321
Just assume you need a template to conjure up shit, hence needing food your going to be copying instead just creating wholesale from one's mind.

>>4967357
Harry Potter's magic system was never meant to make any sense. You can see that in Wizard combat, in which the Killing Curse is the king that trumps all other spells (except for muh love bullshit), rendering all other offensive/deadly spells redundant. You could have had interesting combat spells and magical mechanics, but they end up getting cucked to the whims and fancy of a crackpot writer.

If you really want some magical system consistency, the Mistborn series is your shit. If you're into cartoons, the old Avatar: The Last Airbender does pretty well if you ignore the series finale and all other creative content after it.

>>4967402
Energy bending was an asspull, but it's cool and doesn't impact the rest of the combat overmuch, given you have to restrain the opponent and overpower their will.

>>4967400
Tammy understands loyalty and reward exceptionally well so far. She knows and makes sure others know that rewards are for those that follow and punishment for those that resist.

All the makings of a cult leader.

>>4967404
Energy bending is entirely an asspull, full stop. It isn't cool, it's retarded, and specifically created because they couldn't solve Aang's main tension and character arc over the whole series, which is killing Ozai and restoring the world to balance, at the cost of his innocence. Like, motherfucking Gyatso slaughtered the attacking Fire Nation soldiers in the thousands, so it ain't exactly against the Air Bending code here. It completely ruined his arc, him dealing with the consequences his actions, and the metaphysical magic system as it was explained to us throughout the series.

getting off topic here
anyway, we telling him we're the second coming of jesus or something like that, because that'll display us in the best possible light

>>4967423
It's cool, same as bending lava. It's just cool.

And yeah, it is against airbending code. You are not meant to kill animals, let alone people. That he did so is uh. . funny.

No disagreement about the unsatisfying nature of it.

>>4967623
As cool as the Anti-Avatar?

Keep in mind, Aang was twelve during a time of relative peace before he ran away. One must wonder how much he really knew about his cultural heritage, or their codes beyond 'don't be evil', and given that a bunch of firebenders died in spite of the Sozin's Comet, one must wonder if the Air Nomads were really as peaceful as Aang was led to believe.

>>4967654
Eh.
Doing the hero thing but EVIIIIIIIIIIILL was drawn out and overdone by captain america's time.

File: Hag Lolimort with Powerfu(...).png (1.41 MB, 800x1500)

1.41 MB PNG

"Truly inexplicable, huh...?" You trail off, your gaze wandering away from the handsome man as you pause to think. Albus met your parry of his question with a verbal riposte, as to be expected of the perfect man, but you would rather avoid divulging that you know about your Charisma. If he knows about your Charisma and is here because of it... you're a child, you obviously don't know how to control such things and any abuse of it was surely accidental. If the school he works for doesn't know, you have no intention of divulging it, even to a man as beautiful as him. "There have been some flights of fancy, where I thought something could not be explained, but I was assured that it was just my imagination."

When your gaze returns to him, Albus has set up a pair of cushioned collapsible steel chairs that he must have fetched from the closet while you weren't looking. You're somewhat amazed that they had one big enough for a man of his size stored away, but you suppose the chairs must have come in sets, with a few extra large in each pack for the George IV's of the modern day. Though Albus is more a Richard the Lionheart - he certainly would not have caught your eye so thoroughly if he weighed 20 stone at nine-score centimeters.

You take the smaller seat that he gestures too, a smile playing on his lips.

"I think you shall find that imagination is the greatest gift given to the young, Miss Riddle," he says. Odd, you notice him quietly stowing the ebony rod back in the bracer where he kept it, and you have to wonder why he drew it in the first place. "Beneath every tale is hidden a grain of truth, behind every myth is the history that led to its invention, and every time a child's imagination runs wild, there is something new and wondrous that they had not seen before. So, please indulge me, Miss Riddle. I am quite curious as to where your imagination led you."

"Wool's used to be a run down old townhouse, neatly kept but aging and understaffed for the number of children who lived here." A curious expression crosses Albus' face, as it very plainly is not that anymore, largely thanks to the work you've put in using your Charisma to seal endorsement deals. A girl's image is her pride and joy, and the rights to your likeness do not go cheap. "Back then, Mother Annette had us on a rotation. One day out of the month, one of us would help her dole out food to the other orphans - usually bread and soup, or mac and cheese, sometimes a stew if it was a special occasion."

Albus's lips thin, a troubled look on his face. He's clearly a man of means, but also the sort who doesn't look down his nose at people below him on the social ladder. The type who wants to help people onto their feet when when he sees them down, rather than tread on them for fortune, fame, power, and glory. The type who's troubled by the fact that helping everyone up is impossible, because some people want to wallow in the muck.
>muh length cap

>>4968013

"Whenever I was the one doling out dinner, we never seemed to run out of food, no matter how much I gave anyone."

You pushed the limits when it came to playing favorites, too, about as much as you could get away with. But, those days - which quickly became every Sunday, when Mother Annette decided to overlook anything strange going on and name it the Lord's Blessing upon you - became your favorite days. They were the days when the love of your precious puppets flowed free as water in the bubbling stream. The expressions on their faces when you could easily provide seconds or even thirds, made you tingle.

Love is a very powerful thing, you can feel it. It must be tempered in a bit of fear - for who does not fear their mother's wrath, or worse, her disappointment? - as steel is tempered in water, but it is powerful indeed. You want love, all of the love, to flow into you.

And in turn you will provide. Dole upon punishments to those who disobey. Rain rewards upon those who can think for themselves as to what you want and have it done before you think to ask. Give your blessing upon those who perform well.

Love is power, and you mean to collect it all.

"I see that's quite the happy memory for you," Dumbledore says, and you realize that in your scheming, you allowed a smile onto your face at the prospect of all love flowing into you at the center. You let your face fall, but Dumbledore pats you on the head. That sends a whole storm of shocks across your body, with your overall reaction to it being yes please, daddy, followed by a bit of sadness when it's only to ruffle your hair in an attempt to lift your spirits. "It speaks well to your character, Miss Riddle. Taking joy in helping others is nothing to be ashamed of - indeed, I think the world could use a few more people like you."

"Timothy thinks so, too." Still reeling as you imagine what else those strong hands could do besides ruffle your hair, you let something you didn't mean to say escape your mouth. You snap it shut, but it's too late. He's going to poke and prod, and he probably knows that-

"One of the boys?" Dumbledore asks, and follows it up with a statement you were hoping not to hear. "I don't think I saw his name on the register with Mother Annette."

"My pet snake." Honesty is the best policy. Or rather, pretending like this was a big secret means he's less likely to think that' you're hiding anything else, like your Charisma. "He's a good little noodle, he stays with Rose and I in our dorm. Please don't tell Mother Annette, she got in a tizzy about how St. Patty should have driven all the serpents across the channel, instead of into Albion. I don't think she likes him."

"Noodle...?" Dumbledore looks a bit nonplussed at your description of Timothy.

"Yeah, he's a noodly boy." You blink. This might be a good excuse to get him out of the gym, and away from the body in the next room. "Would you like to meet him?"
>MUH LIMITS

>>4968015

What manner of snake is /our noodle/ Timothy?
>A motley gray adder who gets about as long as your arm, and becomes a sleepy boy from October to March. A bit of a danger noodle, he only bites if you're mean.
>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.
>A sandy boy who is a lazy bum that doesn't even hunt mice! He prefers to laze about in the blankets, or coil around your arm, and hates getting wet.
>A stubby blinky boy who is actually not a snake. But he still acts like a snake. Apparently, he's just a lizard whose ancestors thought the whole "legs" thing was a passing fad.
>(write in)

>>4968018
>>A motley gray adder who gets about as long as your arm, and becomes a sleepy boy from October to March. A bit of a danger noodle, he only bites if you're mean.

>>4968018
>A motley gray adder who gets about as long as your arm, and becomes a sleepy boy from October to March. A bit of a danger noodle, he only bites if you're mean.

Coolest snek, impress future husband

>>4968018
>A stubby blinky boy who is actually not a snake. But he still acts like a snake. Apparently, he's just a lizard whose ancestors thought the whole "legs" thing was a passing fad.

>>4968018
>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.

>>4968018
>A motley gray adder who gets about as long as your arm, and becomes a sleepy boy from October to March. A bit of a danger noodle, he only bites if you're mean.

>>4968018
>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.
A snake pillow and a person pillow. Both we will be taking with us.

>>4968018
>A motley gray adder who gets about as long as your arm, and becomes a sleepy boy from October to March. A bit of a danger noodle, he only bites if you're mean.

>>4968015
>yes please, daddy
I choked on my food at that good shit

>A stubby blinky boy who is actually not a snake. But he still acts like a snake. Apparently, he's just a lizard whose ancestors thought the whole "legs" thing was a passing fad.
THE BIGGEST BABY

>>4968018
>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.

File: 1617561507277.gif (1.59 MB, 452x474)

1.59 MB GIF

>>4968015
>yes please, daddy
Oh god she's going to fucking rape him

>>4968018
>A motley grey adder

Something willing to bite serves us well.

I want to tongue punch lolimort's fart box

>>4968018
>>A motley gray adder who gets about as long as your arm, and becomes a sleepy boy from October to March. A bit of a danger noodle, he only bites if you're mean.

File: w36hb35ytgvf.png (152 KB, 550x550)

152 KB PNG

>>4968018
>A stubby blinky boy who is actually not a snake. But he still acts like a snake. Apparently, he's just a lizard whose ancestors thought the whole "legs" thing was a passing fad."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bh3kRLyK4w
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nvVct6RxQuo
Acquire dumb noodle boys. Look at these cute idiots.

>>4968018
>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.
or
>A stubby blinky boy who is actually not a snake. But he still acts like a snake. Apparently, he's just a lizard whose ancestors thought the whole "legs" thing was a passing fad.

No sleepy noodles, I like my noodles like I like my coffee, and that is awake.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Fgq__Z0DeYc&t=0s

>>4968018
>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.
A big noodle to go with our big ambitions.

>>4968419
>152
Hog Nose noodles are cute and silly.

>>4968018
>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower

>>4968018
>golden lad
I am truly torn between that and the addler, but, the other anons convinced me. Addler has utility and prestige, but on the other hand, a big cuddly boa is surprisingly in character.

>>4968529
A big, cuddly snake who's big enough that you can wear him and nothing else and you'll still have all the important bits covered.

>>4968018
>>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.

>>4968018
>>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.
long snek gang rise up

>>4968018
>>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.

>>4968621
An interesting line of clothing fashion that I believe is best put off until after we make Lolimort into an actual loli.

>>4968796
Actual loli? Is she somehow not a loli already?

>>4968813
*legal loli, if we were to argue semantics.

>>4968018
>>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.
>a golden noodle

>>4968822
>legal
>loli
Words, what do they mean?

File: 017.jpg (102 KB, 800x600)

102 KB JPG

If Timothy is a ball python we are contractually obligated to let him nap under our future witch's hat and just pull him out every time we need an argument against "Snakes are scary and slimy".

Whatever reptile we agree to, can we all agree that we need to give our pet a knitted sweater or hats?

>>4968918
But y?

>>4968920
because while we succumb to evil, we won't be uncomfortable while at it
also it's the 30's we need women skills

>>4968903
Golden boy prefers to nap underneath your clothes and bask in his human's warmth, rather than coil into your hat. Also, something about tentacles/living shibari.

File: 1629565614933.jpg (10 KB, 212x238)

10 KB JPG

>>4968923
Ok makes sense

>>4968018
>>A stubby blinky boy who is actually not a snake. But he still acts like a snake. Apparently, he's just a lizard whose ancestors thought the whole "legs" thing was a passing fad.
acquire legged snek

>>4968923
Don’t know if we can use the Horcrux method considering if we did that our natural good looks is going down the drain.

>>4968018
>>A motley gray adder who gets about as long as your arm, and becomes a sleepy boy from October to March. A bit of a danger noodle, he only bites if you're mean.

>>4968018
>A glorious golden lad about as long as you are tall. He likes to eat mice and coil around you to soak up your body heat, and loves joining you in a warm shower.

I voted for the golden lad, tbf, but the gray adder sounds as if it might not be reliable during the winter months.

File: Timmy.jpg (558 KB, 1600x1461)

558 KB JPG

Two years ago, Wool's Orphanage consisted of a run-down and hollowed out church whose bell tower was halfway to collapsing in upon itself. At one point or another, it may have been a beautiful building devoted to the worship of the Lord, but somewhere along the lines someone had ripped out its soul and replaced it with the hell that is "public works". Stained glass windows replaced with bricks, crystal chandeliers replaced with shoddy electric lighting, and pews replaced with dormitories that might as well have been prison cells.

A shoddy bed and a paper-thin bed roll, not 50 square feet to them.

Every earthly possession confined to a single briefcase.

That made it remarkably easy for you to run off to Berlin. Everything you needed was already packed away, it was just a matter of using your Charisma to secure yourself transportation out of the country and onto the continent. Your talent and relentless practice took you the rest of the way, and now all of Britain knows you as the little orphan girl whose face is on the cereal box. Enough money flowed in from all of those endorsements and sponsorships that you could have gone anywhere, done anything... but once it was done, you came back to Wool's.

You honestly don't know why, you hated it there. But perhaps that within that hatred lay the answer to your question. You hated the orphanage so much that you wanted to see every last vestige of it destroyed, crumbled to dust and detritus. A girl of means, and drive, and Charisma enough to get people who knew more of how to navigate the complicated world of adults to do things for you, you did the one thing you knew could ensure Wool's destruction, and quietly took it over.

In its place, you saw raised a work of such splendor that no one would ever know the original Wool's, save as distant and faded memory.

The gymnasium is its own building on the now expanded grounds of Wool's Orphanage. You leave it - and the dead body of a man who clearly got shot by one of those Commies - behind for the main building. Unlike the gutted skeleton of a church, hastily and wastefully transformed by government bureaucrats into a prison for orphans, the dormitories are a new construction. Facing the road at the front of the complex, you had them built in the Art Deco style that's all the rage these days. There were three principles that went into its construction: beauty, space, and skinship.

The old rooms were ugly things, dark and industrial, lined with the cheap tile of government projects. The new rooms were furnished with simple, but elegant furnishings, with plenty of light to pour in from the sun during the spring and summer.

The old rooms were cramped, so small you could lay on the floor and touch both walls with ease. The new rooms had a more generous design, and used the space better so that they never felt cramped.
>MUH LIMITS

>>4969557
The old rooms were one orphan to a dormitory, isolating everyone from one another and atomizing people for the sake of propriety. The new dormitories kept two people to a room at the very least, for those who liked their quiet and privacy - such as yourself. Most of them kept no fewer than four to a room, preventing the orphans from isolating themselves, or eachother. The boys especially seemed to enjoy this arrangement, but the girls did not hate it, either.

You show Albus to the elevator, which takes you to the top floor. Oddly enough, he doesn't quite seem to understand what it does until it starts moving - he nearly went for the stairs, which would have been a fairly long climb to the top.

Your dormitory is a bit more spacious than a two person dormitory ought to be, though not quite as spacious as a four person. It's just taking up some of the extra space on the floorplan, which you can thank the step the building takes inward at floor six for. A little hallway flanked by a pair of closets and a bathroom leads into a living space, where two desks overlook the old building as it undergoes restoration - soon enough, the hell of your youth will be dismantled, replaced with a house of God. You have one of those new fangled televisions (a personal belonging), and some plush chairs to relax on.

As well as your gymnastics mat, currently rolled up. You can't wake up without your morning exercises.

There's only one bed , though it's massive enough that you could probably sleep four. Really, it's not a bed as much as it is a pile of blankets atop a floor that just happens to be a mattress. Up on the loft above the closets, you and Rose sleep up there, and Timothy sometimes ends up curling around you while you rest. Normally, an arrangement like that wouldn't be allowed, but Rose has trouble sleeping alone, and the doctor recommend she be allowed to cuddle with a friend, sibling, or parent. But your sleeping arrangements aren't why you're here.

"Timothy, come here for a moment, will you?" You call out to the reason why you brought your future husband Albus up here, who slithers out of his hiding place near the radiator.

"What's up, bossss lady?" your pet noodle asks. "Whose the bloke? He smells like fried chicken, lemondrops, and one of those gents at the gym who likes to flex his muscles at his fellow men."

"This is Albus, Timothy," you say. Albus quirks an eyebrow when you reach down and let the long, golden lad slink his way up your sleeve, then all around you before popping his ever-so-boopable snout out of your collar. The other girls are afraid of your golden noodle... but they're wrong to be afraid, as he's a harmless little mouse-eater. "Albus, this is Timothy, the number one most boopable noodle in Wool's Orphanage. Like I said earlier, there's sometimes that I feel like he talks back when I babble at him."
>Feld lengh

>>4969561
Timothy stretches his head towards Albus, his tongue flitting through the air as he moves. "Greetings, oh sorcerer of the swole, Friar of Chicken, and Lord of Lemondrops. You may know me as TIMOTHY JORMUNGANDR, first among snakes in Wool's Garden. My impeccable pedigree can be traced back to the Snake of Eden himself, who tricked Eve into her fall from grace and then stole from the mighty King Gilgamesh himself the herb which he had sought for so long. Know that, in the full of time, I, TIMOTHY, shall-"

"Timothy says hi," you explain to an oddly amused Albus. "He'd also like you to boop his snoot."

"I said no such thing, Bossss-ah!" For a moment, it sounded like Timothy was going to register a complaint with you, only for Albus to boop him on the nose. "Ah! What indignity is this? I swear, vengeance will be mi-"

You flick him on the nose. Mollified, Timothy retreats to the crux of your shoulder in an attempt to retain some small amount of dignity.

"The ability to speak with snakes is a rare gift indeed, Miss Riddle." Albus gives your complaining pet a few more strokes on the head before he successfully retreats. "Among my people - our people, you will soon find - that gift is called parseltongue. The institute which I work for has had more than one such gifted person pass through our hallowed halls."

"You teach people how to talk to snakes?" you tilt your head.

"Not as such..." Albus hums, before an idea seems to strike him. He reaches into his sleeve, and retrieves the stick of ebony that had been attached to his bracer. With something of a flourish, he draws it. "Tell me, do you have a favorite magic trick, Miss Riddle?"
Choose one
>I've always enjoyed this one street perform who could make a pencil disappear.
>Card tricks have always been a favorite of mine.
>Rose always gets a little freaked out at the one where they saw the stagehand in half.
>It's not really a magic trick, but the idea of cursed temples and such always fascinated me.
>Pulling a rabbit out of a hat! It's a classic!
>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.
>(Write in)

>>4969563
>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.

Appropriate for a crush, though the cursed temple and cutting a lad in half would be in character.

>>4969563
>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.

>>4969563
>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers
Gotta appear innocent until we eventually open the chamber of secrets and get a much bigger Timothy.

>>4969610
>open the chamber of secrets and get a much bigger Timothy.
I don't think Dumbledore is packing THAT much

>>4969563
>>Pulling a rabbit out of a hat! It's a classic!

>>4969627
Believe me, he has another wand made of manwood

>>4969563
>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.

>>4969563
>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.
I am quite baffled. From super Charismatic little girl that gets boys to pee on the mean girls, ro fan girling over muscle wizards. I'm not complaining or anything, just fantastically suprised at this hilarious development.
But if we leave, we're gonna need to take Rose with us due to her medical condition.

>>4969561
>your future husband
lolimort sounds like tommy wiseau

>>4969563
>>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.

When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.

>>4969563
>Wizards wand into flowers
Oh whyever would we need flowers, wink wink.

>>4969756
Now we can't take her with us by the rules. . . But screw the rules, we have Hypnotism Money!

really though, the idea of joining slytherin and bringing along a muggle servant that nobody else can fuck with would either damn us or give us such a rep boost for "keeping them in their place"

>>4969563
First time on /qst/, is it alright to answer even at "wrong hours"? Anyway
>It's not really a magic trick, but the idea of cursed temples and such always fascinated me.
It's time for our personality cult loli to reveal a bit of her darkness to Buffeldore

>>4969563
>>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.
A golden opportunity to have our crush present us flowers.

>>4969563
>>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.

>>4969563
>>It's not really a magic trick, but the idea of cursed temples and such always fascinated me.

>>4969563
>When the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers.

File: Fawkes.jpg (533 KB, 976x731)

533 KB JPG

"I've always like the one where the magician's wand turns into a bouquet of flowers," you say.

It's the truth, even. A bouquet of flowers is but a few steps off from your ideal of eternity. Removed from that which makes them age and wither at the prime of their youth and their beauty to be preserved in that state for as long as possible. You seek more than what can be offered by a vase filled with sugar water, to be sure, but that ideal is what you seek. For your self to be forever preserved, like a fly in amber, but able to act instead of trapped within an eternal stasis.

The sooner the better. You would rather not become burdened by lumps of back-straining, useless meat before you reach eternity.

As you ponder your plans for immortality, Albus twists the rod of ebon-polished wood in his hand, and where there was once just a stick, there was now a bouquet of sunflowers, which he places into the empty vase upon your coffee table. You reach out and touch them - they're not the folded paper you might expect, no - they're quite real. He must be a skilled magician indeed to pull those from seemingly empty air, though your eyes were not on both of his hand when he did it.

"Is the institute you represent a school for Magicians?" you ask.

"Yes, though not of the sort that performs on a stage," Albus explains. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has educated young witches and wizards in the use of their gifts for nearly one thousand years now, and have notable graduates such as Merlin, Isaac Newton, and Francis Bacon. An offer is being extended to you as well, Miss Riddle, as you possess a spark of magic within you. Something I personally believe should never be left untaught."

"Is it just magic tricks like that, or is there something more to it?" Sleight of hand, as useful as it may be, is not something you're interested in learning. But, if this schooling could help you hone your Charisma, it could certainly be worth it. "Party tricks can be fun, but-"

Your words trail off as Albus conjures a flame.

No, not a flame, a bird made of fire.

"So that is why he smells like fried chicken."

Timothy's words aside, the bird comes to a rest on Albus's shoulder, the flames weeping from its feathers not so much as singing him, or anything they touch in your room. If anything, the kiss of those flames seems to leave the furniture repaired from the knicks and scratches that the tongues of fire have licked. It's an amazing sight, and you have to wonder... can such flames restore a person from old age? Turn back the relentless march of time?

Thoughts for later.

>>4970734
"It's a bit more than Party Tricks." Albus gives you a very satisfied look as you stare at the bird with no small amount of awe. You control your expression quickly, but it still slipped, your real feelings still got out. "This is my friend Fawkes. If you wish to accept your invitation to attend Hogwarts here and now, Fawkes can take us to Diagon Alley and we can pick up your school supplies. Otherwise, I have your letter here, and all the details can be found within, though you will need to reply by the end of the month."

Choose one.
>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse.
>No, I'd like some time to mull it over.

You have so many questions. Choose as many as you'd like.
>Were my parents wizards?
>Is Rose a witch? Can I bring Rose with me even if she's not?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>Where exactly is Diagon Alley, if I wanted to go there by myself?
>What sort of curriculum does Hogwarts have?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?
>(Write In)

>>4970735
>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse.
>Were my parents wizards?
>Is Rose a witch? Can I bring Rose with me even if she's not?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?

Our pillow and blanket are deal breakers, though I suppose we can find another pillow at Hogwarts.

>>4970744
Support
Also we can just smuggle Rose in.

>>4970735
>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse
>Were my parents wizards?
>Is Rose a witch? Can I bring Rose with me even if she's not?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>Where exactly is Diagon Alley, if I wanted to go there by myself?
>What sort of curriculum does Hogwarts have?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?

>>4970735
>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse.
>Were my parents wizards?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?
Don’t really like rose

>>4970735
>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse.

>Were my parents wizards?
>Is Rose a witch? Can I bring Rose with me even if she's not?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>Where exactly is Diagon Alley, if I wanted to go there by myself?
>What sort of curriculum does Hogwarts have?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?
>(Write In)
Can I boop Fawkes?

>>4970735
>>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse.

>Were my parents wizards?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>Where exactly is Diagon Alley, if I wanted to go there by myself?
>What sort of curriculum does Hogwarts have?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?

>>4970844
+1 on booping Fawkes.

>>4970744
Support.

And if needs be, We shall just smuggle Rose in.

>>4970735
>>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse.

>Were my parents wizards?
>Is Rose a witch? Can I bring Rose with me even if she's not?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>Where exactly is Diagon Alley, if I wanted to go there by myself?
>What sort of curriculum does Hogwarts have?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?
>(Write In)
>Can i still return here ? Can someone visit me at school ? Can i show magic to my friends ?

>all these people thinking we can just smuggle a muggle to Hogwarts and keep her there for 7 years without being noticed
How to immediately get expelled 101: Breaking the fundamental rule of keeping the Magical World and the Muggle World seperate.

>>4970965
"I" don't think we can do that for more than a day, if that.

"Tammy" on the other hand, I believe would almost certainly believe she could do that, because she has yet to face the magical world with people who can counter her bullshit.

Big fish in little pond cannot fathom the dangers posed by sharks.

>>4970735
>>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse.

>Were my parents wizards?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>Where exactly is Diagon Alley, if I wanted to go there by myself?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?

>>4970735
>Yes, let's go to Diagon Alley right now. Just let me get my purse.
>Were my parents wizards?
>Timothy can come with me, yes?
>What sort of curriculum does Hogwarts have?
>Will I get to learn how to conjure a firebird like yours?

File: Casual Tammy.png (1.95 MB, 2507x3541)

1.95 MB PNG

Albus' question flies over your head. There's really only one thing you can do when confronted with such a majestic creature whose feathers glitter with a warm fire that heals instead of burns. When it cranes its neck down, eyeing you with some level of concern, as if judging the Queen of Wool's for how she rules over her subjects, there is but one thing you can do.

You reach out and boop it's beak.

With a squawk, the bird flutters up and hits the ceiling, clearly not expecting that reaction. Albus gives a hearty chuckle at the bird's expense. The bird quickly recovers, though there's now a singe-mark on your ceiling where the dust has cleared and the paint looks freshly dried instead of aged a year and a half. When it lands on Albus' shoulder once more, it puffs its chest out, trying its best to look like a dignified burny chicken.

"Jusssst like any bird, bosssss lady..." Timothy cranes up, looking the fire-bird in the eyes. "All plume and no peck. Certainly not a match for I - who have inherited the might and guile of the Snake of Eden, and the rejuvenating powers of my great father, who swallowed whole the Herb of Youth and-"

"Yes, yes, your impeccable pedigree." Timothy looks offended as you pat him on his ever so boopable nose.

"Good gracious me, I don't believe I've seen Fawkes have quite that reaction before." Albus finally stops laughing - a beautiful sound indeed - and wipes a tear from his eyes when his bird gives him an annoyed peck. "For the record, Miss Riddle, the usual reaction the muggleborn have to Fawkes is... well, not to reach out at try to pet him, they're usually intimidated by all the fire. That's a new one."

"Muggleborn?" You ask a question. Albus quickly composes himself.

"A wizard born to muggles," Albus explains, taking on a tone that reminds you of Sister Mary when she's teaching everyone maths. She likes you, as you're already a fair bit ahead of people four or five years your senior. "Not quite the circumstances you are in, Miss Riddle, but a similar one."

"Were my parent's wizards?" One of the things that concerns you is how Albus's people found you. Your future husband may be to... what would Rose call it, hunkalicious, yes, too "hunkalicious" to be involved in some manner of dubious magical panopticon, but that doesn't mean the people he works with are not. "Did they put me down for Hogwarts before they died?"

You once dreamed that they were still alive.

You don't know what you would have done to them if you found them, if they abandoned you, but it wouldn't have been pleasant. That dream ended, though, when no one stepped forth to claim you as their daughter after you took gold at the olympics. Perhaps they were too ashamed to be known as the parent who abandoned such a gifted girl, but someone who abandoned their child... would they really have that much shame to begin with?
>MUH LIMITS

>>4971691

"Not quite," Albus shakes his head. "From what I have been able to gather, your mother was a young witch named Merope Gaunt, and your father was her muggle paramour. You have an uncle, and a grandfather, but... some wizards and witches believe quite strongly the Magic and the Mundane worlds should remain separate. Not a sentiment I particularly agree with, but one that is shared by many in the Wizarding World... and, to an extent, it is the law of the land."

"So I wouldn't be able to bring Rose with me, if I went to Hogwarts?" That's... almost a deal breaker. You put a lot of time and effort into cultivating your relationship with Rose and making it what it is today. There's no guarantee that your Charisma can't be broken by magic, either, so someone as totally submissive to your will as Rose is would be valuable. "I don't suppose she's a witch, is she?"

"Alas, Miss Drake is not on my list." Albus gives you an apologetic look as your face falls. You'd rather not start over in cultivating a relationship where someone adores you so much, gives you so much love without the use of your Charisma. After a moment of awkward silence, a devious twinkle lights in your future husband's eye. "I can certainly understand how hard it can be to keep things from one's closest friend - in my youth, my dear friend Gellert and I could hardly keep a secret from one another. Yes, and it would be a shame if you two grew apart due to distance."

Albus nods to himself, as if he came to a decision. "There is a rather simple spell that I can teach you. Normally, its use is reserved for muggles who are in the family, so that students can tell them about school without breaking the Statute of Secrecy, but an exception can be made for very close friends, I think. As for distance, there are items in Diagon Alley that can help with such matters. You'll need to pay for them yourself, but..."

Albus eyes the rather well appointed room. "Something tells me that won't be a problem for you, Miss Riddle. Running off to Berlin to find your fortune, now where have I heard that one before...?"

There's nothing too ostentatious there, but that's because you invested your endorsement money, both in Britain and overseas in the colonies and the continent. Everywhere except Russia, where they apparently send anyone who tries to invest capital without the permission of the state to someplace called the Gulag to break rocks. Along with all the farmers who had one too many cows, or an extra acre that they tended to and the state declared they didn't need.

Best to avoid that place.

Given that you're worried about getting sent to the gulag if the dirty reds got their hands on you, your future husband is probably right about not needing to worry too much about money. Though there's a saying that one who doesn't worry about money will need to worry about money soon...
>Muh Limits

>>4971696

"Where is Diagon Alley, anyways?" you say, as you quietly fetch your purse from your closet. A humble thing, it's actually something you made yourself, during one of the handicrafts classes that the orphanage put together before you came around and made changes to it. You change out of your leotard and into a more casual outfit while you're in there. "That's not a street I've heard of, and I've been all around London. Is it someplace in Scottland?"

"It's a place that's been hidden away from the Muggle world." Albus stands from his chair, giving his firebird something that looked suspiciously like a mouse drawn from his robes. "You'll find the entrance at a pub called the Leaky Cauldron, on Charing Cross Road, should you need to go there. We'll be heading straight to Gringotts first, so you can exchange some coin. Gringotts will gladly exchange cheques for cash, but I would advise not overdrawing."

"Bad fees?" You're not particularly worried, you have plenty of liquidity.

"A pound of flesh for every pound they're charged for the overdraw." Albus says words that make you wince - you don't have much more than 90 pounds to give. "Much more merciful than in my youth, I must say. Fees were but a pound sterling back then, but the pound they would take was usually the heart. Nowadays, they're not allowed to do that, something about losing future customers and it being bad for business."

"Well, they certainly sound like bankers." You met Britain's money masters once or twice for a photo-shoot, when they decided to give a very generous endowment to Wool's when you took the gold medal. Good optics for them, good fortune for you and yours, but even your Charisma can only get so far with such men. "So how will we be getting there? Broomstick? Cauldron? A pair of ruby slippers and the words 'there's no place like Gringotts'?"

Albus blinks at that last one, shaking his head. He gestures to Fawkes. "Phoenix. Fawkes should be able to take the two of us, and your familiar, without much difficulty."

"Oh?" You ask. You don't see how the little fire bird would be able to carry you all there - he's quite small. As Albus takes a hold of your shoulder, you can't help but have a flurry of questions escape from your lips. "How will he do that? Will he grow to a few sizes to have us ride on his back? Or is he just stronger than he looks? Also, will we learn how to conjure Phoenixes in class, or is that so-EEP!"

An uncharacteristic yelp fills the air. It's certainly not your voice that makes it, even if everyone in the now white-marble halls of what you can only assume to be Gringotts gives you a look for disturbing the silence. You can't help it, you just spontaneously combusted!
>MUH LIMITS!?

>>4971697

"To answer your questions, Miss Riddle..." Albus lets go of your shoulder, and you turn around and pout at him for that mean surprise. Rather than being rightly apologetic, your future husband is just amused, and ruffles your hair. This is acceptable and relevant to your interests, as once again it fills you with that odd desire to call him daddy while engaging in rough, intimate relations with him. "Phoenix Fire, no, yes, and... if you take the Care of Magical Creatures elective from your third year and do well enough, you may learn more about Phoenixes and earning their friendship."

You huff. No easy answers, then. But that's acceptable.

How much money do you want to convert in Galleons?
You have about 500,000 pounds sterling in total assets, though only 5,000 of that is liquid. For ease of understanding the relative value, values in 2021 USD will be given in parentheses.
>£1 ($96.17)
>£5 ($480.82)
>£10 ($961.65)
>£15 ($1,442.46)
>£20 ($1,923.28)
>Open an account with £50 and get a chequebook ($4,808.21)
>Open an account with £100 and get a chequebook ($9,616.42)
>Open an account with £200 and get a chequebook ($19,232.82)
>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>Write in

Where do you want to shop first?
>Get yourself a wand.
>Get yourself a set of Robes and your Wizard Hat.
>Obtain books for getting deep lore.
>Obtain general school supplies and magic items that are necessary.
>Every witch needs a broomstick to fly. That's a rule.
>Write In

>>4971698
>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>Get yourself a set of Robes and your Wizard Hat.

File: cc58690fdecb7f82f75e3b2dd(...).jpg (82 KB, 736x956)

82 KB JPG

>>4971691
>Your future husband may be to... what would Rose call it, hunkalicious
God dammit I hope we can give Rose some ounce of magic. I don't want to leave our best friend alone ;n;

>So how will we be getting there? Broomstick? Cauldron?
Ha! Baba Yaga.

>if you take the Care of Magical Creatures elective from your third year and do well enough, you may learn more about Phoenixes and earning their friendship."
>Phoenixes over our glorious golden noodle
Just upgrade Timmothy into a Coatl.

>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>Write In
Ask Albus where he thinks we should go to first, and if he's sure that Rose isn't a witch like us. Maybe she's just a late bloomer. It can't hurt to check can it?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOfU-6f2zhI

>>4971698
>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>Every witch needs a broomstick to fly. That's a rule.

Gotta follow the rules, they say.The Rule of Cool that is.

>>4971698
>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>Every witch needs a broomstick to fly. That's a rule.

>>4971698
>>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>>Get yourself a set of Robes and your Wizard Hat.

>>4971698
>500 and chequebook.

>Ask advice, but Wand first, then Books.
>Then robes.

We saw him use the wand, that's the key to power and immortality. We need the tool to make it all work.

Then we need knowledge. And finally the queen must dress for the occassion.

>>4971698
>>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook
>Get yourself a wand.
>Get yourself a set of Robes and your Wizard Hat.

File: bro.jpg (243 KB, 1656x1760)

243 KB JPG

>>4971691
>hunkalicious

>>4971698
>>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>>Get yourself a wand.

>>4971698

>Daddy Dumbledore
Golly

>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>Every witch needs a broomstick to fly. That's a rule.

>>4969561
>one of those gents at the gym who likes to flex his muscles at his fellow men
he tried to warn us

>>4971698
>>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>>Every witch needs a broomstick to fly. That's a rule.
the broom will have a board affixed to it so that we can stand on it without while headpatting the snek
(yes i want a witchbroom version of a skateboard, fuck you it's cool)

>>4971698
>Open an account with £500 and get a chequebook ($48,082.06)
>Get yourself a set of Robes and your Wizard Hat.

>>4972559
A bigger flex would be to learn how to balance on it and ride it like a skateboard

>>4972856
Nah nah, we can do better.
We make the broom semi-sentient or automated, that way it can self stabilize itself, or fly after us if we call over the broom.
Aces man, we'll be the only kid at Hogwards that knows how to do kick flips with a broom.

>>4972856
>>4972878
unironically i just want our MC to be able to style on everyone by doing sick tricks a la jet set radio

>2 days

>>4971698
DAMMIT QM WHERE YOU ASS AT?

>was about to start reading
>see that 2 days have passed since last post
At least tell us you’re not running anymore, dude. I don’t want to get invested for nothing.

>>4974165
>>4974190
>>4974218
Wait is "2 days" considered a long gap for /qst/'s quests? I was out of town, will be back to posting tomorrow (need to sleep now, it was an exhausting two days).

>>4974412
/qst/ has abandonment issues. Tammy can relate.

>>4974412
No it isn't

>>4974412
2-3 days is when people start to worry if there's no update telling them about a longer pause

>>4974412
As others have said, /qst/ has abandonment issues and going dark for several days is usually a bad sign.

>>4974412
It’s considered a long gap unless the QM states otherwise, yeah. Most QMs that go dark for a couple of days don’t return.

File: Witches Need Brooms.jpg (164 KB, 991x1400)

164 KB JPG

The ostentatious marble halls of Gringrotts remind you more of the train station that greeted you when you traveled to Berlin than of the banks that you've been to. Even the ones that cater to the wealthy tend not to be so grandiose in their presentation. You're not sure if that means muggle banks are more confident in their grip on the levers of power, that they need not put on a display to remind others of their importance, or that they are less keen to show off their wealth to such a degree lest they inspire envy or anger among the people they serve.

Either way, it's a very different experience. Especially when you discover that the ones who run the bank are not Wizards or Witches, but a squat folk with long pointed ears and comically large noses called goblins.

"Armando having you shepherd in the muggleborns again this year, Albus?" croaks the goblin who sits at a desk labeled 'New Accounts'. You realize perhaps a bit too late that it - she is a female goblin, if only based on the lipstick and longer, better-kept hair. "Worried they might need someone like you, what with all the rising tensions out there?"

Albus waves off whatever the goblin mean with one of his large, spade-like hands. "Surely not, Grimma. Tensions are no worse between the Ministry and the Acolytes than they are between the Crown and the German Chancellor. Whatever hot-headedness may be on display at the soapbox, cooler heads will continue to prevail."

You have concerns about any tensions that might be fomenting between power structures...

Which promptly evaporate when your future husband pats you on the head. Yes please, daddy, more of this.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind, I believe Miss Riddle would like to set up an account..." Albus ruffles your hair, and helps you up to the rather highly set seat, so you can work with Miss Grimma.

You spend a good hour determining what type of account you want to set up with the bank - certainly not one which would charge you a fee and simply store your money without putting it to work for you. While most of your investments are in muggle markets, even a paltry sum of £500 should be put to use. You have to convert it to Ǥ100 to make use of it in the wizarding markets, but that's no small amount of coin when a wand costs a silver sickle. The conversions of knuts to sickles to galleons is about as unintuitive as possible... but you suspect that's by design.

The goblins are cunning indeed, making it difficult for someone to track just how much money they have at any given moment. Not to defraud them as much as to encourage overspending... though you personally think they'd probably make more if they just converted to a sensible system and lent the Ministry money like the Rothschilds lend to the Crown.
>Muh limits

>>4974866
With your account set up to be mostly liquid - and probably more money than you'll be able to spend in seven years - you leave the bank with Albus in tow. Your future husband is amused at your enthusiasm, as your eyes scan the shops in search of a particular store. It's an impressive place, with all manner of strange and exotic sights and sounds that you would not find on the mundane side of London, but there's something rather specific that you're looking for.

"If it's a broomstick you're looking for, Tammy, you'll want Quality Quidditch Supplies," Albus leans down to whisper to you. You nearly jump out of your dress, having almost forgotten that he was behind you.

"How did you know I was looking for that...?" You ask. You weren't wearing your heart on your sleeve that much, were you? Wait, can wizards read minds? You'll need to learn how to counter that as soon as possible, if wizards can read minds.

"It's something muggleborn girls always seem to want to get first," Albus says. He points you in the right direction, a gesture your eyes immediately follow... though you do have to wonder about the sign. What do a golden winged ball and a pair of crossed cricket bats have to do with flying on a broomstick? "I blame a certain American for getting a few things suspiciously accurate in his novels."

"Well, it's a rule, Albus!" you insist. You don't run to the broom store, but you do walk at a very brisk and dignified pace. Why your future husband seems so amused by your actions, you don't quite know. "Witches and flying broomsticks go hand in hand, you can't have one without the other. It's like cookies and milk, or chocolate and peanutbutter, or fish and chips."

"You can't have lemonade without lemons and sugar," Albus nods along, finally following what you're say.

"Yes, exactly!" You open the door to the shop, and see... rugby gear?

Why does a shop for flying broomsticks have rugby gear? Maybe it's enchanted so you don't hurt yourself if you fall? The bats and the balls also throw you through a loop, but there's an entire wall of the shop that just makes sense. Dozens of models of broomsticks, from the budget models to the high-end professional models. Some of them even boasting use by something called a quidditch team - not that you know nor particularly care what that is. Albus hangs back as you make your selection, and you can overhear him talking some sort of sportsball with the shopkeep.
>Muh field length

>>4974867

Choose one
>Bluebottle. A safe and reliable broomstick that will deploy cushioning spells should its rider fall without the need for a wand.
>Cleansweep Three. The newest model Cleansweep, which are excellent all-around brooms, not particularly specialized at anything.
>Comet 100. The newest model Comet, known for its linear acceleration and incredibly high top speed in excess of 100 miles per hour.
>Moontrimmer Model 3. A craft broom rather than a mass manufactured one, noted for having a maximum height so high you could trim the moon... if you had the charms to breathe up there.
>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".
>Starsweeper II. An American broomstick that is top of the line when it comes to maneuverability without sacrificing the speed that a "seeker" would want.

>>4974868
How do the bluebottle spells work exactly ?

>>4974871
Like an airbag, basically. They react to falls and crashes. Perhaps not as well as the models in 60ish years, but still pretty good.

>>4974868
>>Starsweeper II. An American broomstick that is top of the line when it comes to maneuverability without sacrificing the speed that a "seeker" would want.
Seems like the best compromise between speed and mobility.

>>4974873
So inertia-dampening spells, essentially. Do they have an indicative range and speed for falls ? Do they need to be recharged ? What happens to the broom if they activate ?

>>4974881
HP Magic deals a lot with concepts, so "when you would be in danger of harm". No need for recharge. The broom stops and falls with you if you fall.

>>4974868
>sneak of to germany to win gold in gymnastics
>one broom on offer is specifically designed around aerial acrobatics
How could we not take it? We shall take the Magical World by storm the same way we got to shake hands with Uncle Adolf.

>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".

>>4974868
>>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".
I am tempted by the Starsweeper, but this one seemed too fitting to pass up.

>>4974868
>>Comet 100. The newest model Comet, known for its linear acceleration and incredibly high top speed in excess of 100 miles per hour.
any lack in maneuverability can be made up in skill and proper training.

>>4974868
>>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".

>>4974868
>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".
You had me at experimental

>>4974868
>>Starsweeper II. An American broomstick that is top of the line when it comes to maneuverability without sacrificing the speed that a "seeker" would want.

>>4974868
>Starsweeper II. An American broomstick that is top of the line when it comes to maneuverability without sacrificing the speed that a "seeker" would want.
'merican made

>>4974868
>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".

>>4974868
>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".

Greater ability to move in 3 dimensions without having to turn the 'nose' so to speak in a direction sounds great.

>>4974868
>>Starsweeper II. An American broomstick that is top of the line when it comes to maneuverability without sacrificing the speed that a "seeker" would want.

>>4974868
>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".
Broom Combat lessgoo

>>4974868
>>Starsweeper II. An American broomstick that is top of the line when it comes to maneuverability without sacrificing the speed that a "seeker" would want.

>>4974868
>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".

>>4974868
>>Comet 100. The newest model Comet, known for its linear acceleration and incredibly high top speed in excess of 100 miles per hour.
SPEED

>>4974868
>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".

>>4974868
>>Comet 100. The newest model Comet, known for its linear acceleration and incredibly high top speed in excess of 100 miles per hour.

Focus Voldemort's autism at a desire for speed, rather than ethnic cleansing.

If you aint first, you're last, baby.

>>4974868
>Starsweeper

We need to practice first, but when we do, We want to be nimble and agile.

>>4974868
>>Starsweeper II. An American broomstick that is top of the line when it comes to maneuverability without sacrificing the speed that a "seeker" would want.
good balance for a first timer

>>4974868
>>Nimbus 1. A small company's experimental broom. Not recommended for the pitch, apparently, due to its relatively low top speed of 70 miles per hour, but uses an experimental vectored maneuvering spell system that "excels in aerial acrobatics".
she doesn't seem interested in team sports anyway

File: Tammy II.jpg (274 KB, 550x1140)

274 KB JPG

You ignore all the budgetary brooms and older models that line the shelves and go straight for the higher end broomsticks. While your funds are not infinite by any means, the most expensive broom in the shop goes for 15 galleons. After looking over the specs, though, you don't think you want that broomstick - while it has an exceedingly impressive top speed of 120 miles per hour with a cruising speed of 100 mph, speed is not what you're looking for in a broom. All of that impressive speed is useless without elegance and grace.

Which draws you to the Nimbus 1. A small company trying to break into the market dominated by Comet and Cleansweep, it is not participating in the speed race that those two companies are engaged in. The Nimbus 1 has a cruising speed 30 miles per hour slower than the Comet 100, so it won't be winning any races. The maneuvering system it uses, however, promises to be revolutionary in the field. Every other model of broom uses the tail end as the "engine" which propels the broom forward, and can only turn as easily as the broom can be turned during flight.

There's a lot that you don't understand about how the Nimbus' propulsion and maneuvering system works.

From what you do understand, rather than dedicate every piece of the magical backbone it can spare to thrust, it uses a more complex piece of inlaid spellwork to create what is in abstract a sphere of force, where thrust can be projected near-equally in every direction from the broom. It remains most efficient in linear acceleration, but it can just as easily project two opposing vectors on the tail and the nose to take turns much more sharply. One of the quirks of this unique array makes it faster at gaining altitude than most other brooms, and the the only broom more stable at higher altitudes would be the Moontrimmer.

The wheels in your imagination begin to turn as you think of what you'll be able to do with this broomstick if you combine it with your acrobatics. There will be a lot of things that you will need to unlearn, but certainly some principles will be able to translate from the gymnasium to the sky.

"Nimbus... that's a company I haven't much heard of," Albus says as you write up your cheque and pass it on to the shopkeep. They have some strange device that apparently speaks with a Goblin at the bank, and you're passed on a receipt as funds are appropriately transferred. "The first of their product line as well, though... yes, that's a very curious propulsion spell they've developed. Not something I'd expect to see on the Quidditch Pitch, but for a girl of your skills? Yes, I could see you putting it to good use indeed, Miss Riddle."

"That's why I got it." You nod. "Can we go to the..."
Choose one
>Wand Store
>Clothing Store
>Bookstore
>Supply Shop
>Write In

>>4976236
>Wand Store

>>4976236
>>Wand Store

>>4976236
>Clothing Store
We have the broom now, but not the attire. We need the pointy witch hat.

>>4976236
>Wand Store

>>4976236
>Clothing Store
We can get the rest later, we need the outfit now.
That's what makes us a witch with a broom and not some janitor with a broom.

>>4976236
>>Wand Store
bombard the salesman with loads of questions.
can't you do magic without wands? how was magic done before? how do you make a wand, it can't be any old stick...

>>4976236
>>Clothing Store
We need to style.

More importantly how we can keep track of our things in the real world from now on, if we are in the school.

>>4976236
>>Clothing Store

>>4976236
You dropped your name and trip

>>4976236
>Wand Store

>>4976236
>Wand Store
Time for foreboding prophecy telling by Mr.Oliwander. Ahoy!

>>4976236
>Clothing Store

>>4976236
>>Wand Store

>>4976236
>>Clothing Store

>>4976236
>>>Clothing Store
POINTY HAT OR RIOT

>>4976236
Clothing store

>>4976236
>Clothing Store

>>4976236
>Clothing Store

>>4976236
Lovin this qst bruv

>>4976236
>Wand

DEMAND WOOD TO MAKE THINGS HAPPEN!

>>4976236
>>Wand Store

>>4976236
>Clothing Store

File: Melinda 'Madame' Malkin.jpg (326 KB, 1191x1684)

326 KB JPG

"Well, there are a number of tailor's I could recommend for you, Miss Riddle, but I think it would be best to start with Monsieur Malkin's shop," Albus takes you by the hand to lead you through the alley, which has begun to get a touch crowded as people pour in during their lunch hour. Owls fluttering about, dropping packages almost willy-nilly, certainly do not help matters - you nearly get conked on the head by a box as big as a badger. "His shop serves as Hogwarts' primary supplier for uniform robes, and the rest of his selection is certainly up to snuff. The Malkin bloodline has been defining the fashion of British Wizardry for nearly seven centuries, now..."

To its credit, the shop doesn't look seven centuries old - though for all you know, the building that it resides in might as well be. Compared to the rest of what you've seen in Diagon Alley, the interior is positively modern... which means that it might as well have been lifted straight from the Gay Nineties. Everywhere else in the Alley looks like a call back to when the colonies split off in the 18th century, so you'll take what you can get.

"Here for a fitting, Albus?" a man's voice calls from the back of the shop.

"Just a student today, Marvin," Albus replies.

"And here I was looking forward to seeing your arms burst out of another set of sleeves. I swear you do that on purpose," the man - most likely Marvin - calls back. You can hear the sound of cloth sheers in the back room, before a fashionably disheveled man steps out from the workshop. He blinks twice when he sees you. "Just a student he says. Youngest gymnast to take the gold is just another student. Melinda, dear, would you get Miss Riddle set up next to Walburga for a fitting? And Albus?"

"Yes, Marvin?" You get the feeling from your future husband's expression that he's quite familiar with whatever song and dance Marvin is putting him through.

"Would you kindly get the fuck out of my store before every sleeve in my men's formal wear section decides to spontaneously explode?" The extremely polite and friendly tone Marvin takes with Albus contrasts strongly with the words that he actually says. So much so that it takes you a minute to realize what he said. Marvin clicks his tongue three times. "Hurry up, now, I can hear ripping..."

"Half an hour?" Albus asks.

"Forty minutes," Marvin clicks his tongue again. "Melinda needs to learn how to take full measurements, not just robe measurements, and I imagine Miss Riddle will want more than just the standard Hogwarts Robes. At the very least, something she can move in. Speaking of, where is that girl. Melinda~!"

You're not sure how much you like the way he addresses your future husband, but other than that, you like the way this man thinks. It's also nice to know that some people keep up with the mundane goings-on in the world, even in the Wizarding World.
>LIMITED

>>4977735
"Miss Riddle, I shall leave you in Marvin's capable hands," Albus says, tipping the brim of his pointed hat to Marvin. "I'll be stopping by Giant Sandwiches - would you like me to pick you up anything for lunch while I'm there?"

"Yes," you say. There's one sandwich that you particularly enjoy, that you hope can be found in the Wizarding World. Something from before you improved your circumstances, that Rose made when she was less competent at cooking which still somehow turned out good. "I'll have a grilled peanut-butter and jelly on sourdough bread with sliced banana and bacon, if they can make that."

Albus blinks at your sandwich request.

Marvin blinks at your sandwich request.

"That sounds delicious!" a girl about the size of a beagle peaks her head around the corner, dropping the briefcase that she had been carrying very diligently. Bright pink hair tumbles down her back, and her ears are ever so slightly pointed. She wears an odd, double pointed hat with two buttons as big as Albus' fist sewn into it, as well as an exceptionally poofy set of coveralls. "Also, I'm here, papa! Was just looking for my tools. Can we make sandwiches like that for Lunch tomorrow? Please, pretty please...?"

"Uh... sure, Melinda, I'll make that for you..." Marvin's tone suggests that he doesn't want to try it himself. His loss, that's your favorite sandwich for a very good reason. "Can you get Miss Riddle here set up? And take her full measurements... and Robe measurements for Miss Black, she should be seated already."

"Can do, Papa!" Melinda gives her father a wave, and beckons you to follow her. "Please follow me to the fitting room, Miss Riddle, and I - Madame Malkin - will get you set up right away."

As Melinda waddles forward and you follow her to another room, you hear a ripping noise.

"Wuh-oh," Melinda says. She scurries forward, looking back at you. "Mr. Dumbledore's curse just-"

"I told you to shoo, Albus!" Marvin shouts, and you can hear the sound of Fawkes bursting into the room in a plume of flame. Fortunately, it's the sort of flame that repairs and heals instead of burns. "We've already lost one set of sleeves today, we won't be losing another! And take that burning pigeon of yours with you!"

"-ripped another set of sleeves." Melinda finishes.

"Does that happen a lot?" You ask the pixie sized tailor girl.

"Papa has a special enchantment he puts on the shop when he knows Mr. Dumbledore is coming around," Melinda says. You have to wonder why a curse exists to causes sleeves to rip apart spontaneously... and how Albus' other clothes avoid such a fate. Maybe he enchants them with some sort of counterspell? "But... papa doesn't always get advanced notice that Mr. Dumbledore is coming around. Now, please take a seat here, and I'll get your measurements going riiiiiight after I start on Miss Black's!"
>Field Length

>>4977740

You take a seat in a high, swiveling chair set up in the back room, almost like the chair at a barber's shop. Melinda scurries about with a tape measure that seems to move on its own once she gives it a few nudges, scratching out numbers onto clipboard that she's holding. You find it hard to place Melinda's age, as by her size alone she couldn't be more than half your age, if that, but for all her childish mannerisms, her build suggests that she might be a year or two older than you.

The girl she set to measuring first is a very severe looking girl around your age, clad in a black dress with more frills than you would be comfortable wearing. Her long black hair is done up in two long tails on either side of her head, and her eyes are a shade of brown that is almost a rich blood red. She seems to have a drawn onto her face in permanent marker, as she doesn't seem to be able to smile even for a greeting.

"Walburga Black," she introduces herself without mincing any words.

"Tammy Riddle," you reply, with a bit more pep to your tone and a slight, charismatic smile.

"Riddle, hmmm...?" she clicks her tongue after rolling your name around in her mouth for a moment. She's clearly trying to think something through. "That's not a name that I'm familiar with. Which means that you're either a foreigner - which is unlikely, given your accent - or you've a muggle in your bloodline. Would you be a half blood, a quarter blood, or... first generation? That's the term for polite company, I believe."

"It is company policy to bop the ears of naughty children who try to bully customers because of blood status, yes," Melinda says. Her tone of voice says all that she has to think about this line of conversation, which is nothing good.

"Nothing like that, Madame Malkin," Walburga shakes her head, but Melinda doesn't seem all that convinced by it. She does puff up at being called Madame Malkin, though. "The intricacies of Wizarding bloodlines are just a hobby of mine. After all, it's well documented that - as a population - those whose bloodlines are closer to the mundane tend to have less magic to work with. It's a shame to see bright minds stifled by the limitations of their bodies."

"My mum had more magic in her pinky than most wizards have in their entire body," Melinda rolls her eyes. "I'm no squib, but I'm nothing special either.

"Populations, dear Madame," Walburga is quite insistent on that word. "Not individuals."

Choose one.
>[Query] What's a Squib?
>[Incredulous] You make it sound like you're breeding horses...
>[Deflect] Well, I don't know how good I am at magic, but I'm rather good at gymnastics.
>[Honesty] Albus told me that my mother was a witch, and my father was her muggle paramour.
>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?
>(Write in)

>>4977743
>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?

Save the gymnastics for a surprise.

>>4977743
>>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?
I imagine Tammy has some experience with posh Brits who still care about breeding, given that we're still in the 30's

>>4977743
>>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?

>>4977743
>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?

>>4977743
>(Write in) dont know much about my family, just that we can talk to snakes, anything to go with on that?
poor voldie, with the blitz coming up bananas are going to be pretty rare around the isles, some kids didn't believe they where real and bit into the skin after they came back to Brittan. might be a good excuse to visit the the American gaunt branch, or a possible Mexican branch.

>>4977743
>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?
Show them our snake Timmy. He likes rats and warm hugs.

>>4977743
Did we remember to pack our snake's emergency winter noodle sweater?

>>4977743
>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?
>(Write in)
Have either of them ever seen a unicorn before?

>>4977743
>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?

>>4977740
>I'll have a grilled peanut-butter and jelly on sourdough bread with sliced banana and bacon
>Jelly

>>4977743
>>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?
Supporting the unicorn write-in too

>>4977743
>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?
Also backing asking about unicorns, gotta keep the innocent charm going on full steam.

>>4978111
>Did we remember to pack our snake's emergency winter noodle sweater?
Silly billy, Timmothy doesn't need a winter sweater. We are his winter sweater, except he's the one being worn.

>>4977743
>>[Parry and Riposte] Well, I can't say that I know much about all this blood stuff. Are you here for Hogwarts too?

>>4977743
>Parry and reposte

such si the nature of voldemort.

File: Walburga.jpg (1.97 MB, 1125x1500)

1.97 MB JPG

"Well, I can't really say that I know all that much about this bloodline stuff," you play the part of the lost child who does not understand what's being said in what you hope is a parry of her words. Then, you try to establish a connection between the two of you, which should be a smooth riposte that easily changes the subject. "Are you here for Hogwarts, too?"

Usually, this would be the point where you break out the Charisma to force a change in subject with a few terse words and a bit of your focus. Like, when the German Chancellor was spending more time grumbling about 'untermenschen this' and 'German superiority that' beneath his funny mustache than he spent praising your performance, you laid it on thick. Well, actually, that's not a good example, as you're usually more subtle in your use of your Charisma. You had some choice words to say about wasting people's time with things that didn't matter, but at the end of the day you got all of the headpats and praise that you deserved.

And he didn't once call you the equal of any Iranian girl, as if that were the highest form of praise.

Seriously, that "compliment" was just weird.

Now that you think about it, you'll need to look him up in the paper when you get home. Wasn't he going on about how all of Europe needed to unite against the Commies these days, or something like that?

"Yes, I am." Walburga's voice snaps you back to reality, where the tape measures that Melinda set upon you are getting a bit frisky in search of your every measurement. A certain noodle sleeping beneath your clothes wakes up when the measures brush against him, poking his ever-so-boopable head out of your sleeve. He slowly follows the measuring tapes, trying to trace them back to where ever they came from. "My family has been going to Hogwarts for thirty generations. We can trace our attendance all the way back to Macros the Black, who attended for two years before Myrddin took him on as an apprentice."

"S-S-S-Snake!" Melinda squeaks when Timmy finally catches on to just who is controlling the tapes. With a sinister slither, he reaches out and flicks her cheek with his tongue. "Ahhhh! Tammy, why do you have a snake under your clothes?!"

You click your tongue at Timmy and reel him in.

"Stop that, you're scaring the poor girl, and you don't have my permission," you say to Timmy. He deflates a little bit, but obediently slithers back into your sleeve. You give Melinda an apologetic look. The poor girl must be frightened out of her mind - not only does she look younger than you right now, but her eyes are as wide as saucers. What's the word for fear of snakes? Ophidiophobia? "Sorry about that, Madame Malkin. Timmy usually doesn't like coming out to play when there are other people around. I guess he must have thought the tape measures were other snakes."
>Field Length

>>4978898
"Only for but a moment, boss!" Timmy says, and you're honestly amazed he'd admit that much. His head pokes out of your collar, nuzzling against you as he whispers conspiratorially into your ear. "But when I flicked them with my tongue, I realized that they were not fellow snakes with strangely consistent marks upon their scales. No, they were but PALE IMITATIONS, unworthy to hold court with a scion of the Snake of Eden!"

"They're called tape measures." Looking again to the wide-eyed girl, you tell a little white lie. "He says that you have tasty looking hair. And also, hello. Now, Walburga, I'm sorry, you had mentioned - thirty generations? That's an impressive amount of time to keep track of one's bloodline."

"Not as impressive as being a parseltongue," Walburga says. Her resting bitch face has finally broken into the slightest smile, which has crept up into the corners of her cheeks like vines crawling up a house. It looks wrong, as if the world itself cried out in pain to see it. Perhaps that's why she didn't greet you with one, as you greeted her? "That's a rare gift. One rarely seen outside of Slytherin's line..."

"Also kinda evil..." Melinda gives a nervous squeak, and then stops. Her eyes brighten almost as quickly as they darkened with fear when Timmy's tongue flicked her. "Wait. Does that mean you're going to become a Dark Lady?"

You blink, and are left at something of a loss for words. "Well, maybe...?"

Melinda pounces on you in a flash of bubblegum-pink hair, jumping onto your lap and making big, green puppy-dog eyes at you. Her tone pleads with you as much as her look does when she asks, "Can I design the uniform of your Army of Darkness? Can I? Can I? I have sooooooo many ideas in my design book for how an Evil Witch and her followers should look! If you allow me to be Lead Designer of your Army of Darkness, I promise that your forces will be the most fashionable Dark Wizards since Emeric the Evil!"

"Ahahahahahaha~!"

A strange, bell-like sound erupts from nearby, and it takes you a moment to find the source. When you do, you have one question, and that is: who is this, and what have they done with Walburga? Amazingly enough, she's laughing. It is as if the stony look she wore cracked beneath a hammer, and the person who was hiding within the statue was allowed to come out.

"A habetrot's daughter would find Emeric the Evil fashionable, wouldn't she?" Walburga wipes a mirthful tear from her eye, the stone mask still absent as the grin she grins is far more natural than before. A few more chuckles escape her lips when Melinda puffs out her cheeks and pouts, looking even younger than she actually is, for the moment. "Probably the horns. He was a very... Scandinavian warlock. Though you're slipping into what you accused me of earlier, Me-lin-da~"
>Field length.

>>4978899
A vicious smirk replaces Walburga's mirthful grin. The two expressions are distressingly similar to one another, but the few spots where they're different changes everything about the expression. Less glee, and more of that wolfish, predatory nature shining through. The points on Melinda's hat fall, like the ears of a frightened rabbit.

You may not have the cultural context to really understand the byplay, but all the same you decide that you need to defuse the situation before Walburga goes for the throat or Melinda accidentally kicks your head off.

"It's unfortunate that it can't just be taught at Hogwarts," you say, trying to steer the conversation back to the school.

"Oh, there's a lot that can't be taught," Walburga lets her wolfish grin fade, letting her stony mask from before slip back on as naturally as she breathes. It's a shame that she's not comfortable keeping her real self out all of the time, but also understandable. You have your own masks to wear. "Mostly because the Ministry does not approve of certain spells being added to the curriculum. Alas, that means several spells can only be passed down from parent to child... and if a bloodline goes extinct, the knowledge is lost forever."

"Some of that knowledge would be better off lost, if you ask me," Melinda narrows her eyes. "How many curses have the Malfoys created, again?"

"How many spells has your father taught you that aren't on the curriculum, Madame Malkin?" Walburga asks, a smirk growing on her face.

Oh no, they're doing it again.

"I wouldn't know," Melinda answers, her near perpetual smile falling off her face. She levels an accusatory tone at Walburga. "I wasn't allowed to attend Hogwarts last year. Papa and Mr. Dumbledore had to spend a lot of time talking with the Ministry and Professor Dippet over the last year to let me attend this year. As for why not, well, some old man named Arcturus had been lobbying the Ministry against allowing 'monstrous half-breeds' to attend last year. I believe his words were Tojours Pur?"

Walburga's smirk falls of her face instantaneously, and she clicks her tongue in irritation.

"Well, that is the height of folly," Walburga says after a moment. Is that an apologetic look that she's giving Melinda? It's hard to tell, as her stony mask has slipped right back on and locked itself into place, 100%. "I could... pontificate on the meaning of those words, but that..."

"It is what it is," Melinda shrugs. Then, the smile returns to her face. "Besides, that means I get to be in the same year as you and Tammy! Tammy might be the next Dark Lady, and you might have a stick up your butt, but hey, best that we get in on the floor of the Army of Darkness, you know? That way you and I can be Her Evilness's Dark Generals, rather than expendable minions. So what houses do you two think you'll be getting into, anyways?"

"Slytherin," Walburga says almost instantaneously.

"What is a 'house'?" you ask.
>Field length