dark arts

For the Love of Thestrals Art by KackelDackel

Excerpts from the Journal of Asterion Black, amatuer Magizoologist

July 31, 1806: Day 1

I have decided to keep a journal of my efforts to study the mysterious beasts known as Threstrals. Ever since that first Care of Magical Creatures class, I have wanted to understand those strange, shy creatures. My greatest obstacle, of course, is that I have never witnessed death; it seems far too morbid to track down a dying person to watch, and, well, the other option is no option at all, so I will instead use it as an experiment to see how much a naturologist can study a creature that they cannot perceive.

Still though, I have to admit an overwhelming curiosity over it all. I still remember the look on Professor Lighthorn’s face when that creature wandered towards us. I could see the impressions in the dirt, and hear the faint rustle of what I imagine must have been its wings, but the look on his face… It was a strange mixture of revulsion and disgust, but also grief, and pity. Just how terrifying are they? By all accounts, they seem to be shy and gentle creatures.

In any case, I have been given access to the ‘Forbidden’ Forest herd at Hogwarts, where I will be allowed to study what I can. Professor Wumplestein, the Headmaster, seemed slightly surprised at my request, but he will allow me to stay in the empty Groundskeeper cabin on the edge of the woods. I will be leaving for Scotland tomorrow, so that shall end my thoughts for now.

September 4, 1806: Day 35

No one told me Geraldine became a professor.

I haven’t seen her since I graduated, that must have been 4 years ago. She was so kind to me in school… I wonder if she’s still with that Prince chap…

In any case, my studies continue to go swimmingly. One Thestral in particular seems keen on me (I think it’s the same one anyway). They seem to have a small scar above their eye, as the skin feels different when I run my fingers over it. It has allowed me to measure its wings, and generally sticks around me when I go to research the eating habits and other aspects of their biology. I’ve started calling it Star.

Some of the school children seem to have heard rumors of me that are entirely unfounded. They seem to think I’m some kind of loony, and I’ve had the windows of the hut broken a few times. While the Headmaster has assured me the students won’t come near my hut again, I can’t help but feel their detentions were rather light.

October 18, 1806: Day 79

I still can’t believe she’s engaged to that prat! After all he did to me in school… How could such a lovely girl fall in love with a monster like that? She told me he’s grown up, that he isn’t the same person as before, but I hardly believe that. The day after I learned the truth, I spent most of the day crying to Star. Although I can’t see them, I could feel them nuzzling me; they would not leave my side, even when the rest of the herd took off on one of their evening flights (an observation based on the sudden sound of flapping, and the movement of the pines around them as they ascend). No, instead, they stood next to me, nibbling on some remnant of meat. At one point, I swear I thought I felt the ghost of a wing on my shoulder.

How could anyone be repulsed by these creatures? They are so kind and gentle, even with their dark connections, they are such wonderful creatures. He hasn’t changed at all. He came out to visit her, and when he saw me at dinner, he immediately started with those old jokes. The comments about my mother, my blood purity… And Geraldine laughed. I can’t believe I was so wrong about her. The betrayal keeps circling in my head.

The next day, when they came to my hut for god knows what, I was in the field. I didn’t see them immediately as I walked back, but Star did. My Star… when Prince came at me, hand out… well, I don’t know what they did, but I think it’s clear that he can see them. He cried out in shock and ran back towards the castle, yelling about monsters. Geraldine ran after him, not even a look at me. A moment later I felt Star nudge my head. What an evil man he must be, to be afraid of a creature like Star. I wish I knew what he had seen though…

I have the beginnings of a plan. He’s supposed to be here on All Hallow’s for the feast… what a night indeed.

October 31 1806

I can hear them, searching for me. They know what I’ve done. But I needed to know, I needed to see Star just once. And I rid Geraldine of that pathetic excuse of a fiance in the same blow.

As I watched the life leave his eyes, I felt an odd sort of thrill, even though I had to escape nearly immediately. I plan to fly away on Star; in the dark of night, no one will see us. This is my final entry, for tonight I shall at last see my friend, and that is all that matters to me now.

Although he was one of the voices for the wider acceptance of creatures like Threstrals, Asterion Black is more widely known for his murder of Bradley Prince, member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at Hogwarts Castle on Halloween of 1806. While he escaped capture for a short time, he and his Threstral were eventually caught, and he was sentenced to Azkaban Prison. While attempts were made to reintroduce the Thestral to the herd at the Dark Forest Magical Beast Preserve, sources who could more easily study the beasts say that ‘Star’ was never the same, and flew off after only two days with her herd.

This was compiled by AuntieAbra

by u/neeshky

Archibald Rivista was the most celebrated diarist of the modern age prior to his mysterious and untimely death at the age of 86 in the forests of Canada earlier this year. Famed for his meticulous recounting of the ins and outs of his daily life, Rivista published no less than 142 abridged volumes, with both “The Ilvermorny Years” and “Alaskan Affairs’ oustripping even the disgraced Gilderoy Lockhart in sales. While in Canada gathering material for his next publication, Rivista was reported missing by his publisher, Casseopia Merry, on 12 July 2021 when he failed to send a planned update owl. A search party found Rivista’s remains on 17 July 2021 in a remote part of the boreal shield area, with media releases stating only that it was believed that Rivista met with ‘an unfortunate accident’. The last volume of his writings, tited “The Final Adventure” was released by his publishers on 20 September 2021 and charts Rivista’s experiences in Canada, closing with an entry dated 30 June 2021 which details his plan to enter the forest the following day.

Whilst the 30 June 2021 entry may end the formal publication, it should come as no surprise that the man renowned for recording his life also recorded his own death. We can now exclusively reveal the last entries of Archibald Rivista’s final personal journal, but be warned, what follows is not for the faint hearted.

5 July 2021

Woke at 06:00hr. Toileted and dressed. Breakfast of berries and nuts as previous. Packed up camp and trekked approximately 1km.

Entered small clearing and discovered what appears to be juvenile Runespoor. All three heads present and creature in trance-like state. Smaller than typical, and colouring restricted to underbelly with grey colouring over spine. ?crossbreed. ?new species. Unclear how a wild runespoor would come to be in the wilds of Canada. Will monitor.

Camp set in clearing, protective enchantments undertaken as standard. Meal of boiled fish at 18:00hr. Runespoor remains immobile.

6 July 2021

Woke late, 07:46hr. Toileted and dressed. Breakfast as previous

Runespoor remains as yesterday. Made closer approach to study. Right head hissing loudly and appears to be attempting to rouse central head. Sketch made of markings.

Wider exploration of area. Colony of bowtruckles in nearby tree, eggs collected for future study.

7 July 2021

Made terrible error. Runespoor is indeed a crossbreed, though with what remains unclear. Approached at approximately 11:00hr in order to complete sketch. Right head succeeded in waking central head.

As I backed away the creature took its tail in the mouth of its central head, the other heads appeared to retract inside the body, and the creature charged at me much like a hoop rolling down a hill. Ran some distance with runespoor in pursuit. Fell on a root and runespoor pierced my right leg with tail before retreating.

Leg swollen, red, painful and warm to touch. Slight blackening of skin around large puncture wound. Fear poison. Wand broken in fall. Cannot apparrate out. Currently unable to stand.

14:00hr right foot and ankle lost all sensation. Unable to bear weight. Feeling feverish. Attempt made to crawl back to camp but am disoriented.

17:00hr Temporary shelter made from nearby branches and leaves. Leg aflame. Blackening of skin extending up towards knee. Have only journal, quill, ink, broken wand, and small portion of nuts and berries on my person.

9 July 2021

Stomach bloated. Bleeding from mouth and ears. Blackness now extends over abdomen and groin. Sounds of creatures in foliage, think they are waiting for my demise. Dark blood in vomit and urination. Violent shaking fits. Vision failing. Need sleep.

Cassie, I am sorry. Tell Thaddius to burn the Siren Archive. He will understand.

All is dark.

It hurts.

8 July 2021

Awoke several times overnight. Right leg entirely black with no sensation. Puncture wound leaking black and purple prurient substance. Nausea but no vomiting. Desperate thirst. Will attempt to locate water source.

15:00hr Unsuccessful. Cannot stand or walk, minimal strength for crawling. Now bleeding on urination and from mouth. Stomach cramps despite eating last of supplies. Shakes. Fear I may not survive.

Casseopia Merry has remained tight lipped regarding these entries, declining our repeated requests for an interview. It is almost certain that Rivista’s final message was intended for Thaddius Bickerwill, his long time research partner, however, it is not known what the 'Siren Archive' is, nor why he would want it destroyed. Given that Bickerwell met his own end by natural means shortly after Rivista was discovered, one can only speculate as to whether this mysterious archive remains intact.