Young Writers Society

Everyone knows about Hogwarts.

Everyone can apply to multiple groups of people - the students at Hogwarts and anyone from the modern world - but the everyone here is a special group of people. They were magically transported from their actual worlds and stories. They all know about Hogwarts; JK Rowling's Harry Potter is a thing that exists in their reality. But none expected to suddenly end up there as their childhood selves.

And this Hogwarts is different. The professors are all familiar, but none of the students are the ones from the series. Harry Potter might be mentioned in passing, but he's not really relevant to the plot. Which is strange, considering how much the actual plot of the book series revolves around him.

Everyone finds themselves on the Hogwarts Express, heading off towards Hogwarts for the first day of the year. All the first years are wearing simple black wizarding robes; anyone older is wearing a robe with their house's color on it. Pets are allowed, of course.

Being suddenly sucked into a kid's series is bad enough, but there's another major problem: you're part of everyone. You'll have to figure out what's going on while also fitting in. And, while you're at it, you need to find other people like you. How else are you supposed to survive something as weird and as wonderful as this?

1. Please include a description of your character in your first post - you can throw it into a spoiler using the code down below and put it at the top of your post.

Code: Select all

[spoiler]Put your description here![/spoiler]

2. Feel free to pick characters from whatever you want. They can be from another roleplay, a storybook, a novel or even a fanfiction of yours. The world, time and plot they're from ultimately just impacts how they interact with this roleplay, so it's really up to you.

3. You can have as many characters as you want, but there'll come a point where you can no longer add new ones because it would alter the plot too much. I'll make sure to say something when that happens, so don't worry about it for now.

4. Please don't write for anyone else's characters. It's hard to predict what someone else might have their characters do, and it takes away some of the fun for the other writers.

5. You're free to have your character guess what the plot is, but don't make any plot-altering decisions with talking about with me first. You can PM me or chat in the spoilers of our posts if you have an idea - I love scheming! I just want to make sure your schemes can be incorporated into what I'm already scheming.

(I also have a discord server for roleplay scheming! If you don't use discord or don't want to join, don't worry about it. But if you want to join in on the shenanigans, here's the invite link.)

6. Don't post multiple times in a row, and make sure everyone has a chance to get a response in. There's going to be times where it makes more sense to post back-and-forth between two people, but try avoiding it unless you absolutely have to - it prevents the other writers from getting too behind and feeling like they aren't involved with the story.

7. Have fun!

The last thing that Luke remembered doing was coming home from the Bob Ross Paint Night. There hadn't been any problems with it, but it was tiring going around the art room all night to pass out supplies and snacks. He had been planning on changing into some clean clothes, but he had just fallen asleep on his sofa instead.

(His real last memory was waking up in the middle of night. Dante had come by to check in on him, and had just put a blanket on top of him. Luke was too tired to say anything, and fell asleep right afterwards.)

But when he opened his eyes, he wasn't in a tangled heap of blankets on his sofa. He wasn't even on the ground. He was sitting in a little room on a train, leaning up a window that looked out a speeding landscape down below.

And his clothes were weird, too.

A nervous feeling formed in his chest when he saw that his jeans, t-shirt and hoodie had been replaced by a set of black robes. The robes were too big on him, which wasn't really a surprise. But what was a surprise was how big everything was. He was so much smaller than usual-

He leaned forward so he could see his reflection in the window's glass.

A boy who couldn't have been older than eleven stared back at him.

Blue eyes widened in horror.

He hurried to his feet. It took him a second to get used to being so small and young, but he was almost to - nervously - make his way over to the front of the booth he was in. When he peered out, he was met with the horror of a sea of black robes.

And a trolley, which looked all too familiar.

Luke immediately stepped back into his booth, eyes even wider than before.

He was on the Hogwarts Express.

There's a kind of out-of-body experience that happens when you're changing realities.

Like falling, but then waking up and realizing that it was a dream. And taking another step on the staircase before realizing there were no more.

Or at least, that's what it's like for Ridge.

He's cooking kebab in the small kitchen of the apartment that he and his best friend Kayla share. The tiny little oil drops magnetically attack his skin, stinging and painful, but the kebabs are smelling smelling heavenly.

And then suddenly, with a jolt, the humid heat of the kitchen's gone; and he's sitting in an devastatingly British seat, on a devastatingly British coach, wearing devastatingly familiar black robes. There's a crup on his lap(half-breed by the looks of it), a wand beside him (maybe hawthorn? kinda pliant)(oh boy what a nerd) and oh bloody hell he's an eleven year old snot-nosed kid again.

There are black robes everywhere. Wands whipping about here, and chocolate frogs jumping about there.

Ridge doesn't really understand. He's trying not to understand.

But understand he does when a lady rolls up a cart just outside his door, and says: "Anything off the trolley, dear?"

Kate opened her eyes. "Fuck."

"Let me sleep another minute darling..." The slurred muttering drew Kate's attention to the figure curled up on the bench next to her. Her blonde hair looked like someone had attempted to tuck it under her head, but it was too long so it spilled over the edge of the seat, a waterfall of gold that appeared to glow in the soft light streaming through the window. Tallulah's eyes were closed. She was drooling a little.

Kate reached over and gently shook her shoulder, "Lully, we're not in the cove."

With an annoyed groan, Tallulah dragged herself up and blinked a bleary glare at everything vaguely within the cabin. "Where are we then?" she asked grumpily.

"Why would I know?"

Tallulah sighed and shifted to move her legs-

They both froze.

At the end of Tallulah's very human legs were a set of even more human feet.

"Did you, uh..." Kate said awkwardly.

"I didn't visit a witch, if that's what you were trying to ask," Tallulah said scathingly.

Kate scowled, "Oh, so then you've been able to turn human this whole time-"

"No!" Tallulah snapped, "I don't know what happened."

Kate's scowl deepened, but now she was mad at whatever glitter-sniffling bootlicker decided that changing her girlfriend's body without warning would end in anything other than bloodshed.

A once-over of the compartment revealed a wheelchair tucked into the corner at the end of the bench.

Kate got up and stalked over to it, taking it out and wheeling it over to Tallulah.

The blonde balked at it, "I have legs! I can walk!"

Kate gave her a skeptical look, "Oh really?" she asked.

"Really." The determined snap of her voice was like the wind whipping through her sails when she sailed near the cove where the air played through the rocks, whistling playfully as it pushed ships like hers into the jaws of the death trap that was the outcrop of stone, like the teeth of a hungry beast.

Kate moved the wheelchair out of the way and gestured for Tallulah to stand if she was so determined that she could. She even gave a little bow of apology.

Did Tallulah's cheeks get a little pinker?

No. She was just a rosy-cheeked cherub at all times.

Tallulah wiped the drool from the side of her mouth - very elegantly, if Kate were to give her opinion - and stood up. Her legs were shaking, but Tallulah's face was in an expression of absolute smug confidence.

With that same confidence, she went to take a step.

And immediately fell face-first toward the ground. Kate was just barely able to catch her.

"I don't think you can walk," Kate said, adjusting her grip on the girl.

"Or maybe I just wanted to fall into your arms," she purred. If Kate's heart were beating, that smirk would stop it in its tracks.

"Come here." In a swift movement, Kate swept an arm under Tallulah's legs so she was holding her bridal-style.

"Oh!" Tallulah giggled, "In a flirty mood, are you?"

Kate was, as usual, going bright red for reasons other than Tallulah. It was just too warm in here. Whoever controlled the heating in this place thought they were trying to replicate the Sahara.

Kate deposited Tallulah in the wheelchair and drew back to find Tallulah giving her a coy smile. That little chin-tucked, eyes-sparkling little smile that told Kate she wasn't yet in on some joke. The way her lips curled at the edges when she smiled like that, and how her eyelids drew down over her eyes as she looked up made Kate want to know was it would be like to kiss her about now...

"Let's go find some people to talk to," Tallulah said suddenly.

Kate blinked, "Oh, yes, yeah."

Tallulah gave a maddening little knowing smile, "Your eyes are glowing pretty bright, Katey dear."

Kate muttered something, some pointless excuse or other, and averted her eyes, positioning herself behind the wheelchair so she could push Tallulah out of the room, and also so Tallulah wouldn't see her rapidly reddening face.

She ducked her head as they walked, hiding her face behind her hair, her eyes behind her glasses, as they walked. She scanned each compartment they passed, seeing group after group of chatty kids in robes much like the ones she and Tallulah were wearing. Most of the older kids were color-coded somehow. Red, green, yellow, blue. Real big fans of the primary colors, apparently.

Finally, they came to a compartment with a very panicked looking kid.

Bingo.

She opened the door abruptly and wheeled Tallulah in. Once they were both inside, she shoved the door closed and plopped down on a seat.

"Hi," Kate said, boredom in her voice.

Luke hadn't expected anyone would come into his compartment.

Maybe he should have been grateful. Who knew how it would have gone if the two newcomers had been from the actual story? He still didn't know what was going on, and he probably was a Slytherin if he wasn't a first year. That seemed like the house he'd automatically get put in.

"H-Hi," he managed to get out. He sunk back a little farther into the compartment, a nervous, shy expression on his face as he stared down at the ground. "I'm Luke..."

"Kate," Kate deadpanned.

Tallulah, meanwhile, gave him a smile. With a pang of jealousy, Kate realized that the smile she gave looked very flirty. She scowled.

"I'm Tallulah," she introduced herself, her airy tone as cheerful as ever.

"And you're not supposed to be here," Kate cut in.

Ridge takes one look at the lady, at the trolley, and bolts.

He rushes by coaches, the crup at his heels, everything a blur of green, red, blue and yellow. Everything a blur of black. And then he hears it.

"...you're not supposed to be here."

Ridge comes to an abrupt stop. Not supposed to be here. Not supposed to be here.

Without thinking about it, he reaches out and knockes on the coach.

Luke froze.

"I...I can leave," he said. "If you, um, want this carriage to yourself..."

Or if they knew something he didn't know, like that he was definitely a Slytherin even though he really thought he was a Hufflepuff. That's what Dante had always said he was, too, but...

There was a knock on the door.

Luke stiffened again, barely mustering the courage to open the door. There was a boy outside of it who almost looked like Draco Malfoy. This really was the test, wasn't it? If Draco Malfoy - or his look alike - didn't have a problem with Luke, it would be because he was a Slytherin or a Pureblood.

And both of those sounded absolutely terrible.

"Hi," Luke whispered.

There's a dark haired boy in front of Ridge. Two girls, one with glow-y eyes, one in a wheel chair.

"Hi," the boy whispers.

Ridge blinks, and blinks again. He doesn't know why he knocked. He doesn't know why he's here.

"Hi," he says back. He grips his wand. He doesn't want to give anything away. He doesn't trust anyone who's not Kayla.
"I'm Ridge. Claremont. Of the... uh" he falters. "The 48th purblood line," he says finally. "Slytherin of course," he adds, and the boy's blue, blue eyes widen.