Perfection In Progress
Fics that are still being written but are so good you should reread them every time a new chapter is posted.
(Closed, Unmoderated)
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Summary
Latin; a dead language with no practical applications except perhaps the deciphering of old texts and as a particularly quaint party trick.
Thankfully, as Harry finds out, Latin is not as dead as he was first taught when he decided to learn the language. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, of course; he loved Latin, and would have been proud to know it even had it been as useless as it was pretty. But in the world of Wizards, the world of Magic, Harry realizes his rare talent with words is particularly valuable, and allows him to use magic that no one's ever heard of, that no one's ever seen. But as time goes on, and he becomes more and more entangled in the webs spun by those around him, he starts to realize just how deep the magical rabbit hole goes and how dangerous power like his can be.
All Harry had ever wanted was for the world to make sense.
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“He has a point though, Ron.”
“Who, Harry? Of course, he’s right! Just look at what they’ve done.”
“No, not Harry, Malfoy. What he stands to gain through his inheritance is very important to Wizarding society." Hermione placed her book back on her lap, thumbing the curve of the spine as she spoke. "You’ll stand to gain quite a bit too, Harry. Or so I’d imagine. The Potter name is an Ancient and Noble one as well."Just one conversation can accidentally dig up a long-buried secret. When Harry goes to find out his inheritance, he discovers much more than he can imagine.
Just who is Harry Potter and did he ever really exist in the first place?
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Summary
The summer after his fourth year, Harry begins having very strange dreams of the future. Visions of war interspersed with pictures of domestic bliss with a certain dungeon bat leave Harry thoroughly confused.
Then he begins to suspect they're more than just dreams.
This is a Work In Progress. It is not finished. It may never be finished. Updates will be sporadic. Read at Your Own Risk.
Series
- Part 19 of W.I.P. Collection
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The fiasco that is Harry's life could be summed up in two words — Avada Kedavra. Those words have haunted him for as long as he can remember, endangering him with their very existence. He'd resigned himself to a life without a soulmate, to pain and sorrow... but then the Blacks happened. Or, one Black in particular.
Whose idea was it to let a Black woman invent time travel, anyway?
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In a world where Voldemort's victory brought forth the golden age of pureblood supremacy, young Harry - an average Durmstrang student - grows surrounded by the same propaganda that has become the gospel truth of the Wizarding World. Injustice is a norm and racism is not only accepted, but actively encouraged. Embracing the status quo becomes harder when Harry finds himself in a train station where the living should not dwell, and a dangerous friend who goes by the name "Tom".
Series
- Part 1 of Train to Nowhere
Recent bookmarks
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Summary
Harry Potter has never been good at lying under pressure, and his latest misstep lands him in deep trouble. Now he's the Lord of an extremely ancient, extremely Dark, previously extinct house of Necromancers. Lucky for him he has friends who can keep up and enemies that are determined to draw the wrong conclusions. Coming of age story about found family, terrifying your enemies, telling the man to shove it, and evil little abominations that just want ear scritches.
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Harry blinked. He had to stop himself from doing something very stupid, like screaming in a public place or trying to run and plowing into a wall.
Waiting a small distance from the exit to the elevator were the absolute last people he’d wanted to see. There stood Lucius Malfoy, looking about as composed as ever, though the sheen of sweat on the edges of his brow and the way his faint smile looked like it could shatter at any moment somewhat soured the image of perfect pureblood Lord. Next to him was Fudge, whose trembling hands squeezed each other white. There was a woman beside them, he didn’t know her but her stern and monocled form reminded him of a particularly cross McGonagall.
“Lord Mortis?” The Minister inquired
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I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies–
Carved on a hand with blood, Harry accidentally and unknowingly creates a binding magical contract– one that prevents him from telling a lie.
Can Harry use this curse to his advantage? Or will it reveal everything he holds secret? Will the world believe him about Voldemort’s return, or will they brush off his warnings as the ravings of an attention seeking liar? And why is Snape butting his nose into Harry’s memories?
Series
- Part 1 of truthsayer
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Summary
When the message came, there was little left of Cassiopeia Black in her — soon she would move on, shed her face and her name for another. But, at the last possible moment, she found a reason to carry on, the smouldering embers of her identity sparking to new life. Unfortunately, adopting the Boy Who Lived came with complications.
