history-of-magic

Day 81: Family Stories

My paternal grandma grew up around Ozark, AR which is down in Franklin County on the Arkansas River at the feet of the Ozark Mountains. She came from a family of sharecroppers that worked themselves to death over the the course of four generations. My grandma’s family didn’t have a car or electricity until after she was married, and she remembered leaving the land only once, when she was a little girl one of her aunt’s passed away and they traveled a few miles, by horse-drawn cart, to visit the family. My grandma told me a story that when she was a little girl she had a terrible rash on her feet, so bad that she could hardly walk. So her mom and dad took her off to one of my grandma’s  aunts who was supposedly a witch. My grandma said she remembered the woman just looking over her feet, and lightly touching them with her fingers she mumbled some words then said to take my grandma back home, that she’d be alright. The next morning when my grandma woke up the rash and sores were gone. I know without a doubt this isn’t the only story my grandparents have, but getting them to talk about it is becoming more and more difficult.

My great-uncle Bill, one of my paternal grandpa’s brothers, was a wart charmer. I think I’ve mentioned this before. He could buy warts off of you. All you had to do was show him the wart, then he’d say something like “That’s a fine wart, I’ll give you a dime for it.” Sometimes it was a penny, but regardless of the amount you knew to take the money then your wart would be gone within a few days. Uncle Bill had a lot of stories he would tell about growing up in a one-room adobe house in the desert. My paternal grandpa’s family lived in Southwest New Mexico near Las Cruces, in Chiricahua Nation, up until he was married and in the army, after that the family moved back to Goshen, AR to the family homestead. My grandpa and all his brothers had a lot of strange stories about the desert. Uncle Bill told me one time that him and his brother Russell were riding horses out in the desert and the came across this giant patch of scorched land that he was convinced was made by a dragon. “We saw were a dragon had burned the land” he would say.

My maternal grandpa grew up in Paris, AR in Logan County. His father was a coal miner and a drunk who would spend his entire paycheck on booze before he even got it home. My great grandma had to take all the kids with her to the pay office and get her husband’s check before he could. Luckily the foreman knew what went on and so he always gave it to her without question. She would go get food and things the kids needed then go home and wait for her husband to get off of work and beat the shit out of her and the kids. My grandpa grew up living in the back of a bakery that friends of the family owned. He used to say what he remembered the most about the house were the rats that ate the old bread and would bite the kids’ toes at night while they were sleeping. He used to always tell this story, that one morning him and the other kids were sitting at the table in the kitchen eating breakfast when out of the corner of his eye he could see a rat crawling up behind the wallpaper. His mother just looked over, grabbed a knife, threw it, and stuck the rat fast against the wall.

My 4th great-grandmother Nancy Anderson lived in Marshall, AR in Searcy County. As the story goes she was taking care of the family farm and the kids while her husband and the other men were out hunting. One day a group of bushwhackers came through dressed as Union soldiers. Nancy sent the kids out to hide in the barn until the men left. Bushwhackers were known to kill entire families for food and money. Nancy’s grandson John, who was hiding in the barn, saw the bushwhackers torture his grandmother by pulling out her finger nails with bullet molds to make her tell where her money was (or perhaps information.  Her son was Capt. John W. Cypert of J.T. Coffee’s Confederate Regiment.)  So when they had tortured her and killed her, they robbed the house of all the food and things they could carry.  Then they burned the house down with the grandmother included.  Nancy’s husband returned home and saved the barn and the frightened John and other children all watching from their hiding place.  It’s said later in life John’s voice would rise in anger as he mentioned the “Boys in Blue” and he had little respect for the “Northern Gentlemen.”

Distraction ~Fred Weasley X  reader imagine~

 History of Magic was not your strongest subject. There was just too many dates and facts to remember. So when Professor Binns told the class that there would be a test on everything you have been taught so far next class, you panicked. 

You began putting every single spare second which meant cutting out sending time with your favourite set of twins. Instead you put everything into revising everything you had learnt so far, from going through your old notes to reading your text book and taking a new set of notes. You needed to pass this test. 

One night in the common room, it was a particularly cold evening, so you sat in-front of the fire, books, parchment sprawled everywhere. Tonight was not particularly going well you were struggling to remember the events of the Goblin Revolution, how it started? Why it started? Who were the main groups involved? To say you were feeling deflated about the exam in a couple of days was a complete understatement.

“Y/N” You jumped out of your skin. You turned around to notice Fred and George standing behind the couch with mischievous grins on your faces. They were up to something. 

“Oh hey guys. How’s the unlucky souls this time?” You asked as you tried to go back to reading a passage on how the Goblin Revolution started.

“Draco Malfoy. Speaking of which you we haven’t seen you in the last few days so-” George began

“So your going to come on this prank with with us” Fred finished. As much as You wanted too but you still had so much to study for. 

“Guys, I’d love to but the History of Magic test is in a couple of days and I can’t afford to fail it” Fred and George mimicked you before swiftly and instinctively removed the book from your lap and pushed the parchment away from you. 

“An hour or two is not going to kill you-” Fred began,

“Plus getting revenge on a bleach blond smarmy git is a great way to take a break from your continuous lack of paying us any attention” George finished for Fred which they knew you found adorably cute.You sighed before whisking your wand in one swift movement had put everything away. You had officially cracked.

“See that’s the Y/N we all know and love” Fred stated, George let out a fit of laughter. Ignoring George’s, random burst of laughter you got up and dusted yourself off before following the twins out to find the Slytherin Prince himself, Draco Malfoy. 

****************************************************************************************************

The prank had been set up. You were at your battle stations. After sending Draco a note saying Professor Dumbledore needed to see him urgently, it was time to hide. Only a broom cupboard was adequate enough to hide but there was not enough room for all three of you so George decided to go and find somewhere else to hide which left you and Fred alone in close quarters. 

The broom closest was tight so you could barely move, your chests touching, hearts pounding as you waited for Draco Malfoy to fall into your trap. You stood, in silence waiting for any sign that Draco was on his way. When you felt a soft yet calloused hand touch your face softly as if you made of glass. Leaning into the touch you finally were beginning to understand what the fluttering in your stomach was every time red headed prankster was near. 

You had tried to ignore the feeling as you did not want it to ruin the bond you had with Fred but this sudden display of affection had you confused. Even though you melted at his touch. Soon you felt a pair of warm soft lips touch your own moving so delicately, containing nothing but pure emotion. Just you and Fred. Fred went to pull away but you tugged on his sweater and pulled him closer reconnecting your lips together.

“You guys you missed the whole. Never mind, I’ll leave you guys alone” You had to admit you were glad of the distraction…

The Signs' best subjects At Hogwarts
  • Aries:Flying
  • Taurus:Astronomy
  • Gemini:Transfiguration
  • Cancer:Divination
  • Leo:Runes
  • Virgo:Care of Magical Creatures
  • Libra:Herbology
  • Scorpio:Dark Arts
  • Sagittarius:Defence Against the Dark Arts
  • Capricorn:History of Magic
  • Aquarius:Charms
  • Pisces:Potions

so this new gen Hogwarts thing has been eating away at my mind and i did a thing

she’s a ravenclaw and she’s into historical revisionism and writes lengthy and intelligent articles for the zine. she’s also into mixing ‘alternative potions’, and plays as a chaser for the ravenclaw quidditch team.

she hates how history of magic is taught at Hogwarts though, its all books written by crusty old white pureblood dudes (“there isn’t a single non-human author in the syllabus, don’t tell me that doesn’t say something.”)

EDIT: !! i did another

6

The History of Magic

The Beginnings of Magic - The art of magic, that of producing extraordinary phenomena in opposition to the laws of science, since the dawn of time has had the power to both frighten and fascinate. During prehistoric times, it is likely that many individuals scattered around the world realized that they possessed the talent to mystify their peers. It is in this manner that they became the first witches or wizards. Several prehistoric utensils and illustrations found in caves around 50,000 BC seem to attest to this. It is believed that magical rites were practiced in religious ceremonies. Sorcerers or healers at this time had both the knowledge of basic principles of life and nature (as the beneficial effects of certain plants or potions on the body…) and probably also had the ability to deceive their fellow companions both orally and visually.

The above illustrations by Emile Bayard (1837 - 1891) are from the book Histoire de la Magie. Bayard was successful by a young age and had published cartoons in newspapers by the time he was 15. When completing illustrations for books, he never used photographs, preferring an interview with the author. The overall success of his illustrations was that, according to him, the reader could comprehend the book by only seeing his prints.

source 1, 2, 3

The Story of Dolores Jane Umbridge

Book 5 | Chapter 13 | Moment 1

J.K. Rowling’s thoughts on Dolores Jane UmbridgeDolores Jane Umbridge was the eldest child and only daughter of Orford Umbridge, a wizard, and Ellen Cracknell, a Muggle, who also had a Squib son. Dolores’ parents were unhappily married, and Dolores secretly despised both of them: Orford for his lack of ambition (he had never been promoted, and worked in the Department of Magical Maintenance at the Ministry of Magic), and her mother, Ellen, for her flightiness, untidiness, and Muggle lineage. Both Orford and his daughter blamed Ellen for Dolores’s brother’s lack of magical ability, with the result that when Dolores was fifteen, the family split down the middle, Orford and Dolores remaining together, and Ellen vanishing back into the Muggle world with her son. Dolores never saw her mother or brother again, never spoke of either of them, and henceforth pretended to all she met that she was a pure-blood.

An accomplished witch, Dolores joined the Ministry of Magic directly after she left Hogwarts, taking a job as a lowly intern in the Improper Use of Magic Office. Even at seventeen, Dolores was judgemental, prejudiced and sadistic, although her conscientious attitude, her saccharine manner towards her superiors, and the ruthlessness and stealth with which she took credit for other people’s work soon gained her advancement. Before she was thirty, Dolores had been promoted to Head of the office, and it was but a short step from there to ever more senior positions in the management of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. By this time, she had persuaded her father to take early retirement, and by making him a small financial allowance, she ensured that he dropped quietly out of sight. Whenever she was asked (usually by workmates who did not like her) ‘are you related to that Umbridge who used to mop the floors here?’ she would smile her sweetest, laugh, and deny any connection whatsoever, claiming that her deceased father had been a distinguished member of the Wizengamot. Nasty things tended to happen to people who asked about Orford, or anything that Dolores did not like talking about, and people who wanted to remain on her good side pretended to believe her version of her ancestry.

In spite of her best efforts to secure the affections of one of her superiors (she never cared particularly which of them it was, but knew that her own status and security would be advanced with a powerful husband), Dolores never succeeded in marrying. While they valued her hard work and ambition, those who got to know her best found it difficult to like her very much. After a glass of sweet sherry, Dolores was always prone to spout very uncharitable views, and even those who were anti-Muggle found themselves shocked by some of Dolores’s suggestions, behind closed doors, of the treatment that the non-magical community deserved.

As she grew older and harder, and rose higher within the Ministry, Dolores’s taste in little girlish accessories grew more and more pronounced; her office became a place of frills and furbelows, and she liked anything decorated with kittens (though found the real thing inconveniently messy). As the Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge became increasingly anxious and paranoid that Albus Dumbledore had ambitions to supersede him, Dolores managed to claw her way to the very heart of power, by stoking both Fudge’s vanity and his fears, and presenting herself as one of the few he could trust. 

Dolores’s appointment as Inquisitor at Hogwarts gave full scope, for the first time in her life, for her prejudices and her cruelty. She had not enjoyed her time at school, where she had been overlooked for all positions of responsibility, and she relished the chance to return and wield power over those who had not (as she saw it) given her her due.

Dolores has what amounts to a phobia of beings that are not quite, or wholly, human. Her distaste for the half-giant Hagrid, and her terror of centaurs, reveal a terror of the unknown and the wild. She is an immensely controlling person, and all who challenge her authority and world-view must, in her opinion, be punished. She actively enjoys subjugating and humiliating others, and except in their declared allegiances, there is little to choose between her and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Dolores’s time at Hogwarts ended disastrously, because she overreached the remit Fudge had given her, stepping outside the bounds of her own authority, carried away with a fanatical sense of self-purpose. Shaken but unrepentant after a catastrophic end to her Hogwarts career, she returned to a Ministry, which had been plunged into turmoil due to the return of Lord Voldemort. 

In the change of regimes that followed Fudge’s forced resignation, Dolores was able to slip back into her former position at the Ministry. The new Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour, had more immediate problems pressing in on him than Dolores Umbridge. Scrimgeour was later punished for this oversight, because the fact that the Ministry had never punished Dolores for her many abuses of power seemed to Harry Potter to reveal both its complacency and its carelessness. Harry considered Dolores’s continuing employment, and the lack of any repercussions for her behaviour at Hogwarts, a sign of the Ministry’s essential corruption, and refused to cooperate with the new Minister because of it (Dolores is the only person, other than Lord Voldemort, to leave a permanent physical scar on Harry, having forced him to cut the words 'I must not tell lies’ on the back of his own hand during detention).

Dolores was soon enjoying life at the Ministry more than ever. When the Ministry was taken over by the puppet Minister Pius Thicknesse, and infiltrated by the Dark Lord’s followers, Dolores was in her true element at last. Correctly judged, by senior Death Eaters, to have much more in common with them than she ever had with Albus Dumbledore, she not only retained her post but was given extra authority, becoming Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission, which was in effect a kangaroo court that imprisoned all Muggle-borns on the basis that they had ‘stolen’ their wands and their magic.

It was as she sat in judgement of another innocent woman that Harry Potter finally attacked Dolores in the very heart of the Ministry, and stole from her the Horcrux she had unwittingly been wearing. 

With the fall of Lord Voldemort, Dolores Umbridge was put on trial for her enthusiastic co-operation with his regime, and convicted of the torture, imprisonment and deaths of several people (some of the innocent Muggle-borns she sentenced to Azkaban did not survive their ordeal). 

Birthday: 26th August

Wand: Birch and dragon heartstring, eight inches long 

Hogwarts house: Slytherin

Special abilities: Her punishment quill is of her own invention

Parentage: Muggle mother, wizard father

Family: Unmarried, no children

Hobbies: Collecting the 'Frolicsome Feline’ ornamental plate range, adding flounces to fabric and frills to stationary objects, inventing instruments of torture

J.K. Rowling’s thoughts on Dolores Jane Umbridge

Once, long ago, I took instruction in a certain skill or subject (I am being vague as vague can be, for reasons that are about to become obvious), and in doing so, came into contact with a teacher or instructor whom I disliked intensely on sight. 

The woman in question returned my antipathy with interest. Why we took against each other so instantly, heartily and (on my side, at least) irrationally, I honestly cannot say. What sticks in my mind is her pronounced taste for twee accessories. I particularly recall a tiny little plastic bow slide, pale lemon in colour that she wore in her short curly hair. I used to stare at that little slide, which would have been appropriate to a girl of three, as though it was some kind of repellent physical growth. She was quite a stocky woman, and not in the first flush of youth, and her tendency to wear frills where (I felt) frills had no business to be, and to carry undersized handbags, again as though they had been borrowed from a child’s dressing-up box, jarred, I felt, with a personality that I found the reverse of sweet, innocent and ingenuous. 

I am always a little wary when talking about these kinds of sources of inspiration, because it is infuriating to hear yourself misinterpreted in ways that can cause other people a great deal of hurt. This woman was NOT 'the real Dolores Umbridge’. She did not look like a toad, she was never sadistic or vicious to me or anyone else, and I never heard her express a single view in common with Umbridge (indeed, I never knew her well enough to know much about her views or preferences, which makes my dislike of her even less justifiable). However, it is true to say that I borrowed from her, then grossly exaggerated, a taste for the sickly sweet and girlish in dress, and it was that tiny little pale lemon plastic bow that I was remembering when I perched the fly-like ornament on Dolores Umbridge’s head.

I have noticed more than once in life that a taste for the ineffably twee can go hand-in-hand with a distinctly uncharitable outlook on the world. I once shared an office with a woman who had covered the wall space behind her desk with pictures of fluffy kitties; she was the most bigoted, spiteful champion of the death penalty with whom it has ever been my misfortune to share a kettle. A love of all things saccharine often seems present where there is a lack of real warmth or charity. 

So Dolores, who is one of the characters for whom I feel purest dislike, became an amalgam of traits taken from these, and a variety of sources. Her desire to control, to punish and to inflict pain, all in the name of law and order, are, I think, every bit as reprehensible as Lord Voldemort’s unvarnished espousal of evil. 

Umbridge’s names were carefully chosen. 'Dolores’ means sorrow, something she undoubtedly inflicts on all around her. 'Umbridge’ is a play on 'umbrage’ from the British expression 'to take umbrage’, meaning offence. Dolores is offended by any challenge to her limited world-view; I felt her surname conveyed the pettiness and rigidity of her character. It is harder to explain 'Jane’; it simply felt rather smug and neat between her other two names.

Source

Okay, so I have all these weird little ideas in my head about Lily Evans, and I just want to put them somewhere.

  • Imagine Lily Evans who writes a letter every day, regardless of whether she’ll send it or not, and tucks a sprig of rosemary into each envelope, because it’s her mother’s favorite, and Lily doesn’t want her to think she’s forgotten these things.
  • Lily Evans who wears a bright yellow sundress in the middle of winter just to remind herself that the sun is going to come out eventually, who ignores the fact that her Chucks are too thin for the rain, who would rather cast a drying spell than give up that little touch of light.
  • Imagine Lily who catalogs things about her new friends, like Mary MacDonald’s favorite food (key-lime pie), or the way Remus Lupin spreads jam first, then butter when he eats toast. Lily Evans who learns how to sing Peter’s favorite song for when he’s so homesick he can’t even speak.
  • Imagine Lily going home for the summer, and Tuney sticks up her nose at the Scottish twang Lily’s picked up from Mary. Lily does her best to make it disappear, even though it makes her sad to let go of it.
  • Lily who sits on the swings with Severus when his parents are fighting and reminds him that soon they’ll be back at school. Lily who rubs muggle antiseptic into the cut on his cheek and doesn’t comment when he says he fell, even though he’s lying and they both know it.
  • Second year Lily Evans who gets her first detention for slapping a boy who tried to look up her skirt. She didn’t do it because he was Slytherin, she explains when Dumbledore asks, but because clearly his parents never taught him any manners, and she can’t let him go into the world like that. She serves the three hours without complaint, dutifully cleaning cauldrons until her fingers are numb.
  • Second year Lily is much more confident in her magic than First year Lily. Her favorite subject is History of Magic, because “it’s fascinating! There’s so much I never knew!” and she sticks to it, even when the others laugh.
  • James asks her out in Third year, and she turns him down on principle first, and then because Mary’s date ditched her last minute and friends stick together no matter what.
  • Later, when he asks her, she’ll tell him it was because the stars told her he wasn’t ready. It’s all bullshit, but it’s worth it to see him smile.
  • Imagine Fourth year Lily who begs Severus to sit next to her in potions. She sees him looking over his shoulder when they talk in the halls, and every time her stomach knots up, because he’s ashamed of her.
  • Fourth year Lily Evans doesn’t go to Hogsmeade anymore, because her best friend in the entire world is ashamed to be seen with her, and she’d rather not go if she can’t share it with the people she cares about. She uses the time instead to tutor one of the first years in Charms, because he can’t get used to holding a wand, and she knows how hard it can be to wrap your mind around it at first.
  • Fifth year Lily Evans confronts Severus in the second floor girls lavatory between classes. “What’s wrong?” she asks, and then, “are we still friends?” He tells her yes, but there’s a cold glint in his eye, and a shiver runs down her spine as she realizes that Severus Snape, the boy from Spinners End, is gone.
  • She doesn’t leave him, because she knows he’s struggling already, and he doesn’t need another person to abandon him, but then he calls her mudblood and she sees red. Years later, she still remembers everything she said to him that day. She doesn’t regret it until she sees the Dark Mark on his arm and realizes that it’s probably her fault.
  • Imagine Lily Evans who marries James Potter right after school, because there’s a war coming, and she wants to live a little before it’s too late.
  • Lily Evans fights with a baby inside of her and doesn’t stop fighting until she goes into hiding.
  • She sends Tuney a wedding present through Sirius, who drops it on the Dursleys’ doorstep. It’s a hair-clip shaped like a Petunia, sparkling and warm and beautiful, like the sister she remembers.
  • When Lily dies, her only fear is that it won’t be enough, that no matter what she does, Harry is going to die with her. She dies looking into the cold, hard eyes of Lord Voldemort, and she doesn’t show him her fear, and with her last bit of life, she sends all of her love to Harry and hopes that it will be enough.
  • She forgives Peter, too, with that last breath, because it’s never easy to live in someone’s shadow, and he was her friend once, too.

Eliphas Levi - The Magical Head of the Zohar, “Histoire de la Magie”, 1860.

The Magical Head of Zohar is a cabalistic design illustrating the concept of opposites, the principle of “As Above, So Below”, implying that the transcendent God beyond the physical universe and the immanent God within ourselves are one.

The Allegiance Academy: Gaudete et vinculae tua!

Of all of the prestigious schools of American wizardry, there are none with such a rebellious and turbulent history as the Allegiance Academy. Originally founded to host and protect black wizards and witches over the course of their education, the Allegiance Academy stands as a stony sentinel off the shores of Georgia. Built around the ruins of the pirated slave-ship Allegiance, the school was founded by four of the most powerful, and some detractors would say volatile mages of the 19th century: “Mother” Irma Cove, Tulia and Tybalt Le Loup, and the ever eccentric Catherine Valentine.

Though forgotten in muggle history books, the four founders of the Allegiance Academy were prominent leaders in the Underground Railroad.Tulia, Tybalt and Irma had all started their lives as slaves (Irma having actually be the muggle-born daughter of Madame Valentine’s personal servant) and while they came to their magic through separate routes, they nonetheless dedicated their lives to the salvation of other black men and women kept in bondage.

Of especial interest to them were those poor children born into slavery who possessed magical talent. Such children, either muggle-born or conceived from the rape of a muggle mother by her wizarding owner, had an especially precarious place in society. Those whites who believed blacks were even capable of magic did not believe they deserved it, and saw wizards and witches amongst the slaves as grave dangers. Those allowed to live past their first manifestation of magic were usually kept ignorant of their powers, and kept bound by unbreakable vows that reduced them below even the roughest muggle. A slave so bound had not freedom, and was forced to always speak the truth and report dangers of their masters. Many a potential revolt was defused by a slave forced to betray their fellows, despite their best attempts to disobey. Shunned by both sides, such wizards and witches often gave in to despair.

The founders of the Allegiance Academy worked hard to find these children before their masters did, and abscond with them before such bindings could be put in place. But as time went on, and the number of free children with magical talent grew, the founders realized their was a problem. It would be more than 100 years before the Randolph-Peyton Institute would be forced to accept black students, and while the Salem Institute was more sympathetic, it was none the less the type of sympathy they preferred to keep at one removed. Even free-born blacks in the north had a higher bar to meet to obtain a place in New England’s prestigious academy than their white counterparts. Valentine did what she could to place the children in friendly homes, and those who seemed in control of their powers were allowed to stay with their families, but there was always a chance that such a child, under the stress of flight to the north, would loose control of their magic and expose the whole party. 

So Irma Cove hatched a daring scheme. Taking a party of trusted allies, she boarded the muggle slave-ship, The Allegiance, and quelled the crew through magic. As she charted their course due south, Tybalt and Tulia ran ahead of them, in the form of hawk and wolf, and gathered all of the wizarding children they’d freed from slavery. On the way south the Allegiance took on these children, and bore them down to a small island off the coast of Georgia. Located east of the St. Andrew Sound a stretch of water charmingly referred to as “The Hole,” this island had long been shunned as a cursed and haunted place by muggles and wizard alike.

Using their magic the wizards set the ship on the center of the island, and around it they raised their school. Tybalt Le Loup, master of transfiguration, spent the next five years shifting the stones of the island around the pirated ship until the fortresslike edifice of the Allegiance Academy stood strong and broad against the southern horizon. Its defenses were potent and varied. Not only was it protected by its thick walls, powerful wardings, and obscure African sorcery (taught to Tybalt and Tulia by their uncle, the famous Le Loup), the school also and four massive cannons liberated by Irma shortly before the Civil War, and a host of tamed sharks (said to be the transfigured slavers that once crewed the Allegiance).

Shortly after its founding, the Allegiance Academy became the first and only school to technically be at war with the American Wizarding Confederation. For more than half a century, from its founding in 1839 until its official recognition in 1901, the school was a rogue organization under siege, and a polarizing point in the politics of the mainland. Today the Allegiance Academy is a strong contender for greatness, easily challenging RPI and SI for national recognition and prestige. It maintains its looming presence, and at its heart the slave ship remains, complete with iron chains and billowing sails: a constant reminder to its students, lest they forget the history of oppression and struggle that forged their proud alma mater.

Despite its apparent gloom and doom, the Allegiance Academy remains a place of safety and comfort to its students, and all those who remain oppressed.

I was debating whether or not to actually take the OWLs on Mugglenet and I finally gave in.

I did better than I thought. I was almost for sure I would have Trolled all of them. Muggle Studies caught me off guard. Haha