@hpminorcharnet creation event: Hogwarts Professors
âł Filius Flitwick, Charms
âSwish and flickâŚâ
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@fl-twicks
@hpminorcharnet creation event: Hogwarts Professors
âł Filius Flitwick, Charms
âSwish and flickâŚâ

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lorcndeth:
lilianexchastain:
Who: Liliane, Lorcan, & Professor Flitwick ( @lorcndeth & @fl-twicks ) Where: Hogsmeade Village When: January 4 around noon
Liliane had been enjoying herself at Hogsmeade; coming with Beau lent an entirely different air to the whole visit, and she quite liked it. But they had split up for a few minutes, and in those few minutes the entire world had gone to hell. There were white-robed people everywhere, and spells were flying, and Liliane was not a fighter. She could defend herself, and she honestly was decent at it, but it wasnât her favorite thing, and there was so much chaos that she couldnât focus on anything. Sheâd run into Lorcan and they were doing all right together, she thought, when she noticed Professor Flitwick.
As well as she and Lorcan were doing, she would never turn down help and she loved Professor Flitwick. But her relief was shortlived, as the attackers turned on him. Liliane couldnât tell what they used, but she saw the professor go down. âLorcan!â Without waiting to see if he had noticed, she began running toward Flitwick; her gaze fell on a nearby pile of rubble, which would be perfect for what she needed. âOppugno!â A quick wave sent the rubble flying at their attackers but she ignored it, instead directing her attention to the next spell she wanted to attempt - she wasnât sure if she could manage it, but she had to at least try. âProtego duo!â Dropping to her knees beside the professor, she scanned him to see what sort of damage had been done.
Fear, death and devastation surrounded him. It surrounded the young boy from all corners and he wondered how people could look at someone like himself or his father and spit out Monster like a Hex when people like this were free to live. He didnât know who killed his father, but he knew what monsters looked like, and monsters looked like these strange men and women in white outfits. Not his father who had been shredded to bits and pieces because of his gray skin and fangs that hadnât touched a humanâs blood in years. Suddenly, Lorcan wanted to show them what a real monster was.Â
He didnât know what he was doing, but in the blink of an eye, his body was directly in front of one of these pitiful soldiers. As if that was what they could even be called. Falling into the Army of a despicable man. âA vampi-â The females voice was cut off in agony as Lorcan sunk his teeth into her wrists, slashing them both with his fangs before throwing her to the ground. Fuck, it tasted good. He didnât expect it to taste so good, so warm and sharp on his tongue. He saw another monster cornering a small child, he couldnât be any older than a Third Year for fuckâs sake. In the next blink, there he was, slamming the man into the brick wall heâd been using to terrorize the child. âA baby?,â he taunted, flashing his fangs in a not-so-discreet way. âIs that what you call a fair fight?â He nodded to the kid to run off before his jaw clenched around the tall figureâs jugular - sharp teeth piercing supple flesh before his mouth was flooded with the almost enchanting taste of the manâs blood.Â
Before really putting much thought into it, he was fighting beside Liliane. Damn, she was a good fighter. And these people? The people were cowards who cornered children into brick walls to score another death. Lorcan took plenty, either by wand or by fangs, he was winning. It wasnât until Liliane disappeared that he stopped his rampage. He didnât have time to think about how disappointed his Mia would have been if sheâd found out what heâd done, he saw Flitwick and Liliane, practically unprotected from the onslaught of killers trying to reach them. âDad,â he whispered, looking up at the sky before flickering off to continue his victorious streak. âForgive me for what Iâm about to do.âÂ
@fl-twicksâ
Flitwick had tried his best to protect his students despite the utter madness taking place on the streets of the little village. He, along with Professor Kettleburn and Professor Dippet had banned together to guide any of the fleeing students and civilians to Hogwarts. Which was rendered much easier thanks to the help of Professor Kettleburn, who carried a penknife that served as a portkey to the Great Hall. When it was deemed that they had found escorted back as many people as they could find, Professor Kettleburn and himself went back to the village to fight, while Professor Dippet remained and sought out more survivors to take back to Hogwarts.Â
Flitwick cursed under his breath, deflecting a curse sent by one of the figures clad in white. He sent a conjunctivitis curse in retaliation, watching as the man was flung back into a pile of rubble. His mind was still in shock - how could this have happened? All of the Professors had been briefed by Professor Dumbledore after the incident with the Centaurs in the forest (a terrible thing, the Centaurs were as much a part of Hogwarts as the lake or the Pitch, and they had always been polite to Flitwick whenever he had encountered them) and it was insinuated that a similar attack could occur. But he had never expected this.. this.. carnage.Â
The professor was pulled from his musings - quite literally, pulled. A scream ripped through the air as he was thrown back into the crumbling wall of Gladrags Wizardwear. Blood soaked through his shirt and he was greeted with a white-hot throb of pain in his chest as if someone held a lit match to his gut. Through his blurry vision, he saw two of his students approaching. âMs. Chastain - Mr. DâEath?â The professor asked weakly. âI..promise.. if either of you let me die here, Iâll drop your grades a letter down.â A bad time for a joke, but it distracted him from the burning pain that clouded his better judgment.Â
amycxscxrrxw:
Angry as he was, Amycus was still able to recognize the joy he got from having Gideon in the position that he did. The blood-traitorâs red hair was held tight in Amycusâs grasp and it felt great. He dug his wand into Gideonâs skin even further, contemplating over what spell would be best to use. He longed for the day that he wouldnât be trapped in Hogwarts, a day where he could cast any spell to his hearts desire.
Iâd like to see you try, asshole. Amycusâs rage heightned and he was preparing to throw out a rather nasty Slicing Curse when Gideon drove his knee right into Amycusâs stomach. He grunted, automatically releasing his hold over the blood traitorâs scalp. Dammit! He moved to lunge towards his opponent, but was thrown off course by the spell haphazardly flying from Gideonâs wand.
Amycus thudded to the ground, shielding his face away from the debris falling from the ceiling. Amycus wanted to roll his eyes. The bloody idiot couldnât even cast a spell the right way! Terrible for him, but good for Amycus. He used the distraction to push himself up from the ground. He looked around, a wild and manic look glinting in his eyes. As soon as he caught sight of Gideon once more, he raised his wand.
He yelled the incantantion of the Ear-Shrivelling Curse, sending a jet of lime green light in Gideonâs direction. He squinted his eyes, hoping that the spell hit itâs target.
In this moment, Gideon Prewett was having so many regrets. I want one of those Muggle Anger Management classes if I survive this. That was the one, stupid thought that kept crossing his mind as he ducked out of the rubble that came crashing from the ceiling at his spell. Maybe Amycus could use one of those classes too â Merlinâs beard, how could he have thought this guy was the love of his life last night. Whoever had brewed that Amortentia mustâve had straight Oâs in their Potions lessons.Â
He lost his wand in the rubble for a second and knew how badly heâd fucked up by the manic look in Amycusâ eyes. Gideon was a good enough duellist, that he knew, but he kept losing grip on his wand, and without that, against a duellist like Carrow, he was mentally picking out his funeral casket already.
The Ear-Shrivelling Curse hit him just has his fingers curled around the familiar wood that was his wand again and Gideon cried out in pain as his ears folded in odd ways. âMotherfucker,â He cursed. Through his pain â he attempted at a weak Petrificus Totalus, which hit the wall next to Amycus instead. He was messing up bad, but realized this a little too late. He knew Carrow had him, and that what was the follow next would not be pretty, but then out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small figure rushing towards them â Flitwick!
@fl-twicksâ
It had been a relatively few days, of which Filius was incredibly grateful. Everyone, it had seemed, had been trying to return to their normal lives and process what had happened - himself included. He was arms deep in grading the Second Yearâs essays on the Softening Charm when shouts erupted from the hallway. Merlin, what on earth could it be now? He ducked his head
âExpelliarmus!â Flitwick shouted as he raced towards the fray, casting the disarming spell at the two students. The two boys wandâs flew in different directions, but Flilus made quick work in casting a retrieving charm that brought the two wands to his hand. Technically, Professors werenât permitted to use magic against another student, save for a class demonstration, but students did not tend to physically fight each other in the hallways either. Surely, he was warranted then. Amycus Carrow and Gideon Prewett. Now, it was obvious the two boys didnât like each other, but never anything past trading a few verbal attacks. But a physical fight? No - something must have happened to provoke this.
A small crowd had begun to form around the trio, students pushing past each other in an attempt to see what was going on (aiming to collect a juicy detail or two to relate back to their friends, no doubt). âThereâs nothing to see here, children. Back to where youâre supposed to be.â Flitwick related to the crowd, his voice dripping with anger. He still couldnât believe it. He returned his gaze to the two boys, a sharp glare clouding his normally kid eyes. âAnd you two. My office. Now.â
The charms professor closed the door behind him, slumping in his office chair. Six of his students, dead. All of them were bright, promising, good people. And now they were dead. Anger coursed through his viens, so uncommon for the usually good natured professor.Â
A knock at the door pulled the professor from his musings. âHm? Come in.â
âSkipping class already?â The Charms Professor asked with a raised eyebrow. âThatâs not a good way to start off the school year, hm?â

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professor flitwick: master of charms and mildly prophetic frog songs
Speaking of eccentrics, youâll like our Head of house, Professor Filius Flitwick. People often underestimate him, because heâs really tiny and heâs got a squeaky voice, but heâs the best and most knowledgeable Charms master alive in the world today.