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Old 07-05-2026, 11:28 PM   #12 (permalink)
sweetpinkpixie

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Hogwarts RPG Name:
Professor Cox
Ravenclaw
Graduated

Hogwarts RPG Name:
CJ Miller
Gryffindor
Fourth Year

Hogwarts RPG Name:
Nyle Harden
Hufflepuff
Seventh Year

Hogwarts RPG Name:
Iris Harden
Ravenclaw
Seventh Year

Hogwarts RPG Name:
Jae-hyuk Anouilh
Slytherin
Seventh Year

Ministry Department Head:
Charles Hollingberry
Minister's Office

Ministry Department Head:
Airey Flamsteed
Mysteries

Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Victor García Massey
Ollivanders

x12 x12
Default Iris Harden | Ravenclaw [ forgot to title, how embarrassing. Sorry Brig!]
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf

A quiet warmth settled across Iris' features at Professor Amstern's response, the sixth year inclining her head with a subtle satisfaction in seeing a hypothesis withstand scrutiny — though there really was no wrong hypothesis nor a means to prove or disprove any of their theories, which was almost part of the fun of it all... even if the Ravenclaw would much rather dwell in certainties.

Her quill resumed its journey across the page, though this time the margin was occupied by a hastily sketched basilisk accompanied by a single note: Growth rate? Unknown.

Another rabbit hole for another day.

The discussion moved on, drawing her attention back to the room as Idris offered his own perspective. Iris found herself absentmindedly rolling her quill between her fingers while she considered it. Tom Riddle had committed atrocities that scarcely seemed comprehensible to anyone with an intact conscience and, truly, irredeemable. As neat a box as it would be to fit the Dark wizard into, the blonde was reluctant to apply wickedness as a reason why he saw success were centuries of descendants apparently didn't.

Determination to succeed and future generations lacking the same conviction that Salazar Slytherin had, however, was a point she could get onboard with with.

Her thumb idly traced the shaft of her quill.

"Nine hundred years is a remarkably long time. Bloodlines don't preserve beliefs nearly as reliably as they preserve magic," she nodded, her thumb idly tracing the shaft of her quill. A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. "Families grow and people marry outside of approval bloodlines and other such socially constructed nonsense. Children disagree with their parents every day... so I'd imagine descendants are capable of disagreeing with an ancestor they never even met and or were not raised in environments that did not foster that level of thinking."

Nature versus nurture, truly. And wasn't that what had been an inciting incident for the leaders of the Neo-Alliance in the Third Wizarding War?

She paused, another thought assembling itself as she spoke.

"History remembers the heir who acted because action changes history and favors the loudest echoes. It immortalized conquerors, revolutionaries, and monsters because they left scars deep enough to survive the centuries. Those who had inherited terrible legacies only to lay them quietly back to rest seldom warranted more than a footnote, if they were remembered at all." The feather of her quill tapped lightly against the parchment as she thought more. "But...over all those centuries, especially the earlier ones where the Founders were not ancient history like they are to us, I think there were attempts throughout the centuries, but they were maybe dealt with so quickly that they never became part of the historical record. Where an heir discovered before they could succeed, publicising every incident might only encourage the next one. Keeping those events quiet would serve two purposes if you think about it. It would deny imitators the notoriety they might seek, while reinforcing the idea that the Chamber itself was nothing more than an old legend and attempts cease all togeter."

Which, ironically, might have made Tom Riddle's task easier. If generations grew up believing the Chamber was only a myth because previous attempts had been quietly erased, then each successful intervention would have unintentionally helped preserve the illusion that there had never been any danger at all.
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We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................

The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like
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