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A TRIPTYCH FOR
THE DEATH OF PRIDE
𓊈 𓇖 𓊉
I. The fall of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Ward
It is the year 1950 and the 26th of July when perhaps the leading family of British wizarding aristocracy—certainly the most elite, the most feared, the most traditional—falls apart because of infighting. The thing about these noble families is that they don’t always get along, isn’t it? Well, the Ward’s infamously never got along. They were quite the dynasty, the first children of the first children always having three to four children per generation, which meant cousins uncles aunts that sometimes never even met. They were not closely knit, like you would see the Malfoy’s, or the Black’s, or the Gaunt’s being. Despite this, they were all known for their pride, their almost obsessive passions, their fickle temper, their dramatics, and their powerful magic—but never known for having similar ideals of politics. It was both their differences and their similarities that caused their end.
On the fifth birthday of the heir, the Ward’s—for the first time in two centuries—were all in the same place, at the same time. The ancestral seat of the Ward’s (which was dubbed “Fools March” after an incident an heir of House Ward had with Merlin) had welcomed the weight of the family’s magics and their horrid attitudes gracefully, and was repaid in Ward fashion. It took a simple, misplaced comment from a cousin to the third uncle of the heir for the family to put on their metaphorical suit and armor—choose which side to take and ready their shields and swords (presumably all metaphorical) to fight. Imagine a baroque battle scene painting. Now imagine enraged and crazed wizards and witches instead of knights and stallions, imagine their swords and spears as wands and flashes of green red white blue magic. Imagine burnt tapestries and carpets and drapes. Imagine broken vases and broken stained glass, burnt wooden floors, and caved down ceilings around them.
What happens when a family filled to the brim with magical prowess and uncontrollable force turn on each other? Well, they turn their ancestral seat into ruins, and themselves into corpses.
II. The raising of Judith Ward
She is not proud of her surname, Judith. Her mother told her she shouldn’t be, so she isn’t. She is a flower birthed by Fool’s March’s soil, the roots of her name in the first first-child of the first Lord Ward. She was planted on foreign soul at the age of five, by the shaky hands of a young mother that was left family-less, determined to make her child better than all of them. So, Judith Ward isn’t proud of her family. She does not enjoy displays of richness and she does not enjoy her mothers tired eyes. She does not enjoy the thought of her destructive family. She is not proud of her bursts of magic, and she is not proud of the way she looks, because her mother gets that sad look when she says ‘you have your grandfathers face’.
Her mother, beautiful like lilies, withered when her home soil got covered by ash and grime. Judith Ward works hard to make her mother proud. She studies well and does well in school. She has muggle friends, and she goes to the cinema to watch muggle movies. She tells her of the funny future-visions she has, to hear a burst of laughter. She finds little trinkets to fill their little London home with. She doesn’t throw tantrums when she doesn’t get what she wants, because she is not proud, and she refuses to be spoiled. She reads books she likes and talks to her mother about them. She pets stray cats and stays away from stray dogs, as her mother is scared of them. She reads the articles her mother writes on the newspaper, even though some words are too long to understand.
Judith Ward is not proud of her surname, because her family was bad. Judy is proud of her little family, her and her mother, because they are good people. She will grow petals and bloom under the careful and gentle watch of her mother.
III. (Who will you see in her eyes?)
You will see the budding historian Judith Ward, who intends to keep all her findings, analysis, commentary to herself, thank you very much. It is not a matter of pride━her curiosity has driven her to dabble in the dangerous art of time travel, and she simply wishes to not be sentenced to a Dementor’s Kiss before her first kiss.
You will see a passionate (obsessed) daughter, fascinated by ancient civilizations, obscure historical events, and the concept of time passing. Not fascinated by the future, because she sees it. You will see that she finds joy in little things, and that she could find a little bit of soul and have something sentimental to say about many things. You will see that she has bloomed into a beautiful lily, like her mother. You will see that the once-foreign soil she inhabited, she has turned into a garden. You will see that she has strong magic and a stronger heart and a lot of love. You will see that she is kind, that she is not prideful.
𓊈 𓅪 ╱ 𓇖 𓊉
𓊈 𓉳 𓊉
i guess this is my introduction for my second hogwarts dr???? there isn't much about me here but this is like. the vibes. the aura. the atmosphere. heir of a fallen house, slytherin, seer, historian, time-traveler, incredibly sentimental. i am weirdly alia atreides-coded in this dr. from dune: messiah . a bit of “vinsmoke” sanji and nico robin sprinkled in. from one piece . idk its really not as dramatic as i made it sound here i just tapped into my 2021-wattpad-ocxcharacter-fanfic-era energy whilst writing.
more may come about this dr. or maybe not! depends completely on my mood! hope you enjoyed reading!!!