Thoros Nott
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Dorea Black was once highly sought after as the epitome of the pureblood wife. While other, more appropriate matches were seeking her hand in marriage, she couldn't stop thinking about a certain messy-haired Gryffindor. (prequel, of sorts, to shayalonnie's The Reclamation of Black Magic) *COMPLETE*
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Hermione’s life is changed forever when she is saved during the Battle of Hogwarts by her father. A man she didn’t recognise. A man of great power. A man legends were written about. A man that gives her a new mission and sets her on a path to save the Wizarding World, through effectively, babysitting Tom Riddle.
Rated for language, violence and sexual content! HGxTR pairing! Greyish/slightly dark Hermione! Powerful!Hermione! Time-Travel! Writing In Progress!
Written August 2018 - Present.
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After the war, Hermione is obsessed with one thing: what happened to Tom Riddle? Her endeavors to answer that question lead her to places she never thought she would go. Time Travel AU. EWE.
Rewriting this now, but letting y'all have the archive of the existing version.
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Mystery Work
Part of Under modification
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This is part of an ongoing challenge and will be revealed soon!
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As a child, Theodore Nott's father took away his voice. Hermione Granger helps him get it back.
*Not abandoned, just really difficult to write.*
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In which she discovers his inner devil, and he brings hers out to play.
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Tom is the lead singer of Heavy Metal band The Death Eaters. During one of their shows he notices a woman who doesn't look like any of his normal fan base. He is instantly attracted to her and wants to know every thing he can.
Series
- Part 1 of Behind the Music
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"Monsters aren't born, they're made" - CJ Roberts
Tom Riddle wasn't always an insane, murderous, snake-like Dark Lord. No, at first he was simply a child, as innocent as you and I were once. What changed? When did he become the monster? Why did nobody help him? Let's find out, shall we?
Or simply - Part one of Tom Riddle's orign story.
Series
- Part 1 of The Man, The Myth, The Legend
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Rosalind Granger has spent her school year undermining a pink toad, helping run an illegal defense club, keeping up with her twin sister in studies, and trying to keep her best friends out of trouble. Just when she thinks that they might make it through exams without anymore issues, Voldemort breaks into her friend, Harry's, head. Somehow, Rosie finds herself riding on the back of a thestral and bound for the Ministry of Magic. Only, when she arrives, somebody recognizes her, and not as one of the muggleborn best friends of Harry Potter. The following series of events only lead to the discovery that her life might never be normal again.
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Beaten and broken, Theo runs away from his father the day he turns 18. With no idea where he is going to go, he runs into two of the most hauntingly beautiful people he has ever seen.
And with it, a missing puzzle piece clicks into place cementing a feeling he has never known.
Love.
Art by aplthree
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Seers are always pawns in war.
Theodore Nott watches as the Wizarding World hovers on the edge of the Second Wizarding War.
Watches AND Sees.Death. Life. Destruction. Peace. There's a path forward for every possible outcome.
He doesn't care about any of it. All he needs to See is the path that leads to safety for him and those he considers his.
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Dance With the Devil by DarkCloud190 for Emeralds_Rubies_Diamonds
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
31 Dec 2024
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Long, gnarled fingers closed around the collar of her shirt, forcing her upright, and she growled. The crowd around them laughed, and her stomach churned.
“A little lion cub and Potter’s Mudblood,” he hissed in an unnaturally saccharine voice.
He slid a long, leathery finger along her cheek, and bile burned in the back of her throat at the caress. Voldemort wrapped a wayward curl around his bony, pale finger, tucking it behind her ear with too much tenderness that made dread roll in her stomach. She closed her eyes, hoping he would kill her quickly and put her out of her misery.
“Thoros,” Voldemort said, looking over her shoulder.
Thoros. That name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Hermione turned to see a stocky man with broad shoulders rise and step out of the crowd. A thick cropping of hair peeked out from behind the grotesque silver mask that hid his features. He bowed low at the waist, now only a few feet away.
“My Lord,” a deep voice hummed.
“Would your boy like a pet? He has been nearly as loyal as you. And I believe the Mudblood may be more useful to us alive than dead. Besides, death would be a kindness. One, I am not currently inclined to give.”