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When zanhar gets bored, zanhar makes fanfictions. And when zanhar can't decide who she wants to obsess over più (Gina o Bella) zanhar makes crossover fics.

Another world is her only choice. That’s what she had decided.
That would be here only means of escape now.
The thought had been dancing in Regina’s mind for a few weeks now, just itching to be acted upon. And finally Regina had, had enough. Between all attempts to revive Henry’s memories failing (resulting in a return to New York for a happy mother and son) and Zelena’s murder of Robin Hood. The witch had been sure to make the deed as excruciating as she could in ripping the thief’s cuore out and crushing it, leaving him to die in Regina’s arms just as her mother and Daniel had. The woman finally snapped, she had to get away from this hell, from the people who still shot her dirty looks and accusing glances despite all the effort (and if she must say so herself) success she put into changing herself for the better. The mayor was completely and utterly fed up with the town she’d wasted a chunk of her life making. With Henry and Robin both Lost to her, it was time to leave it all behind. With nothing and no one to stay for, she’d go to another world…
One where no one knew the Evil Queen, o even Regina Mills.
Silently thanking herself for bargaining with Rumple to fix Jefferson’s hat, Regina gave the copricapo a light twirl. She gazed into the portal spawned from the formal headwear. She honestly had no clue how to operate the thing and could guess with 85% certainty that she wouldn’t even end up in that strange room with all the doors.

Oh well, anywhere was better than her current location—alone in a mansion much too big.
She took a leap—one she may have even been able to call a leap of faith—into the spinning vortex. The sensation of fluttering farfalle worked its way into her stomach as soon as the più rational thoughts set in; what if she just banished herself into oblivion? Into an eternal nothingness where she’d be forced to wait for hunger and thirst to claim her.

••♦◘♦••

Diagon Alley was abuzz with Hogwarts students—from first years to irresponsible seventh—bustling to snatch up some last minuto school supplies. A first anno Ravenclaw nearly knocked Hermione over in her rush to reach Ollivander’s. With a sigh the witch continued her stroll down the road. She herself had to pick up a book o two—of course the libri she had in mind were for entertainment sake, she’d never forget to buy her school supply in advance.

It was just outside Flourish and Blotts where Hermoine found the woman. She was lying face up on the sidewalk—Hermione was absolutely appalled da the number of people just stepping over her without sparing her a secondo glace. The young witch crossed the street, her libri would have to wait. Upon closer examination Hermione noted a sweep of elegant shoulder length hair (the color of dark chocolate) covering a sizeable patch of blood on the woman’s temple. She must have taken some kind of fall Hermione concluded. Hermione knelt down beside her, the woman’s unconscious expression akin to one of fear and hurt. But on a lighter note, her breathing was soft, regular, and da all means, reassuring.
Hermione drew out her wand set to cast a minor healing spell when the woman awoke. Her eyelids fluttered open, a dazed look clouding their bright brown color. She let out a soft, pained moan and put a hand to her throbbing head.
“Er…good morning.” Hermione greeted.

“Is it really?” Asked the other, rather bitterly.

“I could help you. If te don’t mind.” Hermione offered. “I’m Hermione. Hermione Granger.”

“And I’m fine.” The other woman muttered.

“Fine? te look like te just had a run in with the Death Eaters.” Hermione sputtered, taken aback da the woman’s harsh mannerisms.

“The what?” She asked knitting her eyebrows.

“You’re a muggle aren’t you?” Hermione asked.

“A what?”

“A muggle. Someone who can’t do magic…”

“Hardly!” The woman remarked sounding rather offended. “I’m one of the most powerful sorceresses in my land.”

“Your land?” It was Hermione’s turn to question.

“Never mind.” The woman pulled herself to her feet with a huff. Her heels clicking against the ground as she strode hastily away.

What an odd woman. Even for Diagon Alley.


••♦◘♦••

It had been a good mese o so since the defeat of her master. Bellatrix had bribed her way out of the harshest of punishments. Those greedy bastards over in the ministry could never turn down a spare gallon—or in this loathsome case a few thousand gallons. Of course, in a sorry attempt at avoiding public outcry they had sentenced her to a wandless…magicless existence under the watchful eye of her sister. Bellatrix couldn’t even recall a time when she felt this ‘optimistic’.

When she got her magic back those fools would suffer. All of them. The ministry, the dweeb with the lightning scar, the mudblood, the ginger…every single last one of them.

But for now all the pureblood could do was follow Narcissa down the road snarling and hissing at those who dared stare at her the wrong way.

••♦◘♦••

Regina ran a hand through her hair. What a poor way to start. But she couldn’t help it, among her many flaws was a knack for snapping at a helping hand. Not only was she stuck with a gushing head wound but she was stuck in a foreign land in a much too crowded town. She was beginning to regret making that jump already. Just what the hell had she been thinking. She hadn’t even bought any money along. Did these people even have the same currency?

The thought was cut short when she slammed into something…or to her misfortune, someone. A someone clade in a dress very much like something she’d have worn back in the Come d’incanto Forest—darkly colored and complete with a corset. And this someone look even less joyful than Regina herself.

She had maybe two options here; get into a lowly fist fight with a rather startling woman she did not know, o spark up a conversation about how dismal life has been.

The woman stared Regina down with coal black, heavily lidded eyes, her messy dark curls fluttering wildly in the wind. Her lips twisted in a nasty scowl, she seemed to have the first
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401. I may not try to find out if any of the owls are David Bowie in animagus form.
402. I will not ask people what their demons are.
403. I will not offer Professor McGonagall lasagne
.404. I will not tell the Ravenclaws that they're basically useless because Hogwart's smartest student is in another house.
405. I will not call pizza Hut and ask them to deliver to the common room.
406. I will not poison first years. No matter how much I think they need it.
407. It is not appropriate trade first years between houses.
408. I will not tempt Ravenclaws with apples. I will also not say that the Slytherins...
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The world around me was covered in a blanket of white. The magnificent trees towered over me making me feel small…so small. In spite of the snow on the ground and the surrounding areas, I didn’t feel cold. Apparently, I was somewhere near the Shrieking Shack, but that was forbidden! What I was I doing there, I do not know. As I examined the place, I saw a tall figure at a distance. He was clad in black, such a contrast to the surroundings. His skin was pale too, almost as white as the snow. He reached out his left hand towards me and I mimicked his action subconsciously. When I did so,...
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posted by dragonsmemory
The following is from The Whimsic Alley Book of Spells. Any irony present is not intended da me.

A Commanding Spell and Potion
da Dan "Rad" Cliffe

INCANTATION
Impero homo

DESCRIPTION
This is a spell and potion to make people do as te say.
Potion ingredients:
Five grams of salt from the Dead Sea
Ten spoons of honey
One full ink cartuccia (any color)
A drink the victim likes
50 ml. of your sweat

SPELL
First make the potion in the following way:
te need to take a glass,
Add salt from the sea of the dead,
Add the 50 ml. of sweat,
And stir with a spoon of lead.

Take the honey in a bowl,
Add it to the ink,
Stir the mixture 'round and 'round,
Then you're ready to add the drink.

Thirdly, add the preferito drink.
The potion wil need to wait a year.
After that the potion is ready,
And tell the victim to drink a beer.
Wave your wand over the ingredients and say, "Impero homo." Now they will letto yours to command.
The following is in answer to the domanda about Barty Crouch's role in the events of 1994-1995. Please keep in mind that this follows both Crouches, is as chronological as possible, and contains some speculation.


In the early 1980s, Barty Crouch Jr. (who will becreferred to as Junior) joined the Death Eaters. He was among those branded with the Dark Mark. This means that Junior was among Voldemort's inner circle, as only they were permitted to orso the Mark.
Some time after Voldemort's first fall, hhe fell in with the Lestrange family. The four Death Eaters wer looking for Voldemort, wanting...
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posted by WaterLestrange
Is this ridiculous o what? And will te help?

( This is mostly for people who go on and have heard of the site called Fanfiction.net. My friend asked me to do this )

*This is not spam nor a joke

IMPORTANT: Fan-fiction is deleting
stories than contain yaoi, yuri, lemons, violence, stories based on songs, and any story on the site. My friend is organizing a Black Out Day. On June 23rd(according to GTM timing, so that we know we're doing it together), do NOT go onto fan-fiction. Don't read, don't review don't message your friends, don't update. If
enough people participate, then the site will...
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posted by koolamelia
wo of my most prized possessions are a pair of small notebooks, which contain my very first scribblings about Harry Potter. Much of what is written in them was never used in the series, although it is startling to come across the odd line of dialogue that subsequently made it, verbatim, to publication.

In one of the libri is a lista of forty names of students in Harry's anno (including Harry, Ron and Hermione), all allocated houses, with small symbols beside each name depicting each boy o girl's parentage.

While I imagined that there would be considerably più than forty students in each year...
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