DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter universe belongs to the magnificent J.K. Rowling. I just really like to play in it ! No copyright infringement intended.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: To je zgodba, katere plot pilim in izpopolnjujem že vsaj nekje tri leta. Dejansko je njena rdeča nit mednarodno quidditch tekmovanje, ki ga gosti Bradavičarka, udeleži pa se ga 8 različnih čarovniških šol, hkrati pa se v ozadju pripravlja ponovni vzpon Temnega lorda. Vse skupaj se dogaja, ko Harry, Ron in Hermiona obiskujejo zadnji, torej 7. letnik.
Zgodba je precej AU in se torej ne prav striktno drži ali celo izpodbija nekatere canon informacije iz knjig, a le zato, ker sem si zgodbo pač tako zamislila.
Zgodba je, kot je očitno, napisana v angleškem jeziku, ker pa seveda nisem native speaker, to pomeni, da se bodo v njej prav gotovo pojavljale tudi napake. Vesela bom, če jih izpostavite, a jih na že objavljenem postu tu ne bom mogla popraviti, lahko pa bom uredila svoj primarni dokument.

Hvala vsem, ki si boste vzeli čas za branje in morebitno komentiranje. Prvi del prvega poglavja bom objavila že jutri.

SUMMARY: This is, essentially, my take on the seventh year of the Harry Potter series had Peter Pettigrew been caught and brought back to justice that fateful night by the Whomping Willow, consequently causing Voldemort to remain in Albania, nothing more than a spectre. Still, I am convinced that a great wizard such as he undoubtedly is, would eventually be able to formulate a plan and make a grand comeback, directing all his anger and resentment towards the world that dared to defeat and forget him.
I just wanted for Harry and his friends to have a break from the first three years of those frightful and dangerous events (hence the idea of an international Quidditch championship) and then get thrown back into the darkness once they’ve actually come to understand it.
I did my best to keep the personalities of the characters as canon as possible. There will be many pairings, romance and friend wise, each as sensible as they can be so that we can properly see the students grow into their adulthood.

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTES BEFORE READING: Pettigrew’s capture pulls a lot of weight here; Sirius is alive, well and pardoned of all crimes. The real Mad-Eye Moody taught Defence in fourth year. There was no Triwizard Tournament. Umbridge DID NOT come to Hogwarts in Harry's fifth year (Slughorn did, taking over Potions a year sooner, while Snape took over D.A.D.A.). As for the sixth year; it was mostly a romantically baffled mess, WITHOUT Draco Malfoy HAVING ANY ULTERIOR MOTIVES whatsoever.

Ne bom prosila za nexte ali kaj podobnega, me pa zanima, ali imate kakšna razmišljanja o konceptu zgodbe, še preden objavim prvi post. Z veseljem jih bom prebrala .
10. avgust 2018
Najbolj me zanimajo podatki o teh čarovniških šolah, torej njihova imena, obicaji, oprema, nahajališče, če se specializirajo posebej za kako zvrst magije, kot se je Durmstrang za temno ...
In ja, mislim, da to ne bo le qui turnir, ampak bo tako spretno zapleten, kot to zmoreš le ti (in Adriana).
Glede na to, da ni bilo trišolskega turnirja se Durmstrang in Beauxbatons verjetno še nista srečala z Bradavicarko, če bosta sploh nastopila na turnirju, tele Beauxbatonsovske dekline so se mi zdele preveč fancy, da bi sedle na metlo-tako ti namreč vsak vidi spodnje perilo, pa še frizurco ti veter uniči, groza!
Sicer nisem navdušena nad dejstvom, da pišeš v ang., ampak vsakemu svoje
Mi je pa všeč, da si živega ohranila Siriusa in verjetno tudi Cedrica.
Ljubko je, da si si kljub svojim novim obveznostim vzela čas še za tole, hvala ti! In definitivno se veselim nadaljevanja ^^
10. avgust 2018
Tole je nekaj tako zelo drugačnega!

Res mi je všeč, da si se lotila Harry Potter sveta z vsemi že poznanimi liki, ampak je popolnoma obrnjen na glavo (res je neverjetno, ko se zaveš, da je imel Voldi vpliv na nekatere še tako majhne malenkosti v zgodbi).
Najbolj srečna sem, ker je Siriusek živ

In oh, quidditch <3 sem že zaljubljena v tale ff, pa se ni niti začel. Sploh me ne moti, da je pisano v angleščini. Pravzaprav sem kar se angleščine tiče največji bebec - razumem vse, pisati v njej pa ne znam, kaj šele govoriti (saj gre, ampak sem bolj šolski primer angleščine, ni šans, da bi v njej pisala). Enostavno se ne spomnim besed, čeprav vem, kaj določen izraz pomeni. Skratka, v eno smer gre, v drugo pa ne Malo vaje mi torej ne bo škodilo. :3

Resnično komaj čakam nadaljevanja, in po čisto novem HP svetu! Prepričana sem, da boš opravila izvrstno
11. avgust 2018
in to v čisto novem HP svetu*
Telefon me je močno zatipkal.
11. avgust 2018
Things that go bump in the night

Small and enchanting, just west of the Serbian border, shadowed on one side by the raising slopes of green mountainsides and on the other by the great forest of Albania, lay an ancient, exquisitely abnormal outpost for travellers. A magical juncture for witches and wizards which was, much like its Scottish counterpart, a picturesque little village of cottages.
This was a place where Greek rune translators traded with mysterious warlocks of the North and where vile hags sometimes succeeded in outsmarting even the craftiest of goblins. Here you could lay your eyes on the most extravagant of witches from India, sashaying down the main street in vibrantly coloured sarees or half-giant African sorcerers, experimenting with their magical powders in the middle of the cobbled streets. One could even encounter the famous Sufi Dervishes, donning their traditional white attires and high felt caps, while they whirled and performed recitations of devotional Islamic prayers of entirely muggle origins.
But on top of all the wonders of this spectacular cultural and racial bazaar, this village was also notorious for its barter of contraband goods. You see, this was a place one could come across uncommonly rare potion ingredients of unknown origins, where non-tradable objects and materials such as Chimaera eggs or Venomous Tentacula saplings were never hard to come by, where scruffy old fortune-tellers hardly ever predicted a happy future, unless one was willing to pay seven Sickles and throw in a Knut for good measure and where dark magic whispered sweet nothings in your ear, should you find yourself wandering too far away from the crowd.
Severus Snape, however, had no time to inspect mouldy concoctions or stock up on shredded boomslang skin as he strode through the busy town square. He cared little for the beautiful woman, demanding his attention with some sort of a hybrid magpie, resting on her hennaed arms and even less for the excessively loud midget, trying to lure in customers with his stand of antiquities, which could very easily rival those in a Borgin and Burkes shop. His eyes were instead set on the wayside tavern that stood, abandoned from the rest of the cottages, further down the road. It was tall and rickety, with its pebble dash cracked in several places and though most of the shutters were, much like the wooden name sign that creaked eerily as it swung in the mountain breeze, faded with time, it seemed to be well occupied.
The insides of the dingy place were cast into a perpetual darkness. The furniture and bar seemed to be made out of old, roughly peeled wood and there was an impressive antler chandelier, hanging from the high ceiling, casting dusky shadows on the matted stone slabs of the floor. The whole place smelled of stale tobacco, body odour and heavy broth and was filled with all sorts of characters, some undoubtedly less savoury than others and much stranger than Snape himself, which forced him to stay alert even after he sat down at a poorly lit table in the far corner of the room and ordered some soup. Still, he seemed to fit in just right. So much so, that no one bothered to give him a second glance as a hooded figure came to a halt in front of his table and sat down without an actual invitation.

Pushing aside his meagre attempt at a meal, Snape tensed for a brief moment. He met the cold gaze of his guest with a curt nod but otherwise remained silent.
“What is the meaning of this,” asked the hooded man, his voice nothing more than a hiss. He was obviously in a considerable amount of distress because he kept glancing over his shoulder in order to have a better view of the entrance.
“We’ve been summoned,” tersely replied Snape, unfazed by the man’s theatrics.
“Summoned? No. We’ve been warned,” growled the other one and jerked his upper body towards Snape in anger, causing a sliver of his fine, blonde hair to peak through the hood, “You should be able to tell the difference by now!”
“True,” said Snape calmly, as if he wanted to emphasize that the situation did nothing to his usual demeanour, “But it is still a responsibility and we would all be fools to ignore it.”
“You obviously harbour a death wish,” the man mocked, but it did nothing to calm the frantic emotions behind his silver eyes. “He’s been gone for 16 years. Do you reckon he’ll be happy to see any of us? Happy that so few of us have tried to bring him back and unsuccessfully at that? That he’s all but forgotten?”
“True loyalty demands remembrance,” explained Snape.
“Tell me, Severus, what exactly it is, that you know about loyalty,” slyly enquired the visitor, still refusing to let his hood drop, “As far as I’m aware you’ve been Dumbledore’s pet for almost two decades now.”
“How exactly does this make me different from you, Lucius?” Snape stressed his name and the man in front of him visibly flinched, “You, who are in such good relations to some of the Wizengamot’s finest.”
“Don’t,” Lucius warned, his eyes flashing dangerously, “Unlike some, I cannot afford to stain the public image of my family.”
“Your public image has never concerned me, Lucius, but I do get somewhat worried about your principles and, more importantly, priorities, whenever you choose to ignore your darkly pledged accountabilities,” coldly reproved Snape but was cut off again by the Malfoy patriarch, who was getting more and more agitated.
“My priorities have always been clear, which is far more than we can say about you” Malfoy drawled, insinuating once more that Snape’s allegiances were questionable at best, “Why exactly are you here? Or should I ask on whose authority?”
“Again, I was summoned, so I came. We were all summoned, yet the only one to have actually come on his own, was me. So much about loyalty. Where are the others, Lucius?”
“Using their common sense, as you and I should have,” Malfoy hissed forcefully and then stopped talking as a group of elderly witches that spoke a foreign language passed them, their expressions etched with fear and dread. They moved towards the counter and engaged the landlord into a heated discussion of sorts, before one of them nervously glanced backwards as if she were afraid someone was going to attack them. He only continued when he was convinced that they had privacy again, “There is a very tangible reason the Marks are burning the way they are. They are a constant reminder of the wrongs we did him.”
“So we should run and hide? Is that what you’re proposing,” asked Snape cynically but his face remained an empty canvas.
“I’m not proposing anything,” explained Malfoy as he rose from his seat, getting ready to leave, “I’m trying to reason with you. You see, we got lucky that he got stumbled upon by a stupid little professor seven years ago. Lucky that my diary got destroyed by the Potter brat as it did. Lucky Wormtail is an incompetent piece of shite.”
“All out of luck, are we then,” stated Snape, absent-mindedly rubbing his left forearm, “Because whoever’s found him now isn’t so harmless.”
“Exactly,” concluded Malfoy and was about to turn and walk away, before he changed his mind, “I like the world as it is now, Severus. I’ve got the power, the money and free will – none of which I’m prepared to give up anytime soon.”
He then whirled on his heels whilst taking a cane out of the folds of his expensive fur trimmed robes and disappeared as mysteriously as he had come. He left behind a certain unpleasant stillness but Snape knew all too well what it meant, for he had carried it with him for almost twenty years – dark times were ahead again.

Hvala vama za razpredanje misli. Super sta . Me pa zdaj iskreno zanima, kako se vam tole vse skupaj bere. Ali ima tisti 'magični' ton ali ne, ker imam s tem grozljive težave in bi mi kakšen nasvet zelo prav prišel .

Till Next time...
11. avgust 2018
Prva stvar, ki sem jo naredila, ko sem se zbudila: prebrala tole.
Zelooo mi je všeč, ker si začela pri gospodiču z mastnimi lasmi :3 Glede na to, da sem si predstavljala njegov glas, si odlično opravila nalogo. Zanimiv se mi je zdel dialog med njim in Luciusom, dobro si pojasnila njune argumente in njun pogled na stvari.
Težko je pisati za charcterje, ki si jih je v celoti izmislil nekdo drug - tebi to odlično uspeva.
Mislim, da si tudi zelo dobro ujela magični ton, čeprav je ta po svoje edinstven in drugačen od J. K. Rowling, kar me tudi privlači.
En debel Next!
12. avgust 2018
če želiš poslati sporočilo v to temo, se prijavi ali včlani
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