The World of The Fury Triad – Harry Potter Fanfiction and Fandom As Early Influences

Posted by on June 27, 2018 in Book Trailer, This Crumbling Pageant, What Pooks Is Writing | Comments Off on The World of The Fury Triad – Harry Potter Fanfiction and Fandom As Early Influences

I have been asked whether Harry Potter  and its fandom influenced the creation of The Fury Triad.

Really!

Why would you even imagine that Snape influenced This Crumbling Pageant’s villain, Mr Jones, aka Vespasian Wyllt?

::blinks innocently::

Wait. Am I being coy?

I am being coy.

Enough of that piffle.

You wouldn’t be the first to notice.

The review that spelled it out with the most detail came from Author Ashlyn Macnamara, whom I did not know. [I immediately had to email her privately, thank her with more than a little squeeing.]

Ashlyn wrote: “If you took Harry Potter, changed him to Harriet and moved his birthday back almost 200 years, you might get this book. Might. Like Harry Potter, this world of This Crumbling Pageant is imaginative and vividly drawn. There is no school of witchcraft and wizardry, but there is a tutor who practices a form a Legilimancy (and who is very likely to remind the reader of Severus Snape on occasion)….  This book caught my attention because it was listed as one of those daily deals on a blog site. I picked it up because I love fantasy. I don’t regret it for a moment.” 5 Stars [Read entire review on Goodreads.]

And in those words she summed up so much of the whirlwind of magical inspiration spinning wildly in my muse’s head when the very first seeds of my own magical epic were planted.

And yes, it all began because of  Harry Potter fandom and fanfiction. I had always turned my nose up at fanfiction, and when students mentioned that they wrote it I tried to be polite and encouraging but also tried to nudge them toward ‘real’ writing.

This is not the place where I want to spend words explaining how wrong I was and why.

Let’s let it rest here: When I succumbed to the lure of fanfiction because there were no more Potter books coming, and professional writer friends of mine–yes, professional writers–were not only still fanfiction writers, but one had mentioned Potter in particular.

I asked if there were really things worth reading.

I received links.

I fell into the hidden tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow and am forever grateful.

It was in fandom [which is mostly female readers] that it began to be noted and yes, grumbled about, that Hermione and in particular her importance in Harry’s quest [aka saving his ass with her intellect and magic one time after another] was largely ignored. Fandom was probably the source of the many memes and videos that reimagined the books with stories from Hermione’s point of view. Some were stories from canon. Some went places Rowling never anticipated, one presumes. [Snerk.]

I include this link for two reasons. One, it’s just a single expression of the Cult of Hermione. Two, it says something specific about Hermione that I wanted to point out.

Cautions:

If you follow this link you will find major spoilers for every single book!

And if you have read the books and follow that link do not have anything spillable within reach.

You will either spew with giggles or knock over with fist pumps.

You were warned!

The link? Even Glamour Magazine got in on the snark:

“An excellent new meme noticed by Hello Giggles makes that reality crystal clear and gives the Harry Potter books new titles that reflect Hermione as their rightful protagonist.”

I’m giving you a moment to click the words Glamour Magazine or Hello Giggles, two different sources for the same meme, and read, giggle, fist pump, and return.

Or wonder if it’s really a bad thing to read a spoiler for every single Harry Potter book that you never read. [In which case I am not judging. Much.]

Back? Good. Here is the significant detail for our purposes:

“Of course, Hermione would never be quite this petty—she’s above grabbing credit for doing literally all of the work…”

And that is where inspiration and creation part ways with a screech.

My Persephone is not at all above grabbing credit that she is due. She’s very aware of the magical and moral superiority of her family, for example.

If that makes Persephone sound rather Slytherin, well, erm…

Honestly, I didn’t intend to write her with her nose in the air.

Did I mention that Persephone is the Dark daughter?

The one they hide lest Society find out there is Darkness in the Fury blood?

Well, and there is that occasional spontaneous destruction of everything around her thing, too.

So surely you can cut her a little slack?

This is getting looong, so I’ll make the ways Hermione might have inspired Persephone and the even more significant ways that Persephone might have looked down her arrogant nose at Hermione and said, bitch please?

Will be another post.

Here. Watch the trailer I made all by myself!
If you haven’t already, and even then you
might want to see it again, who knows?

I am quite proud of it.

And there is more content beneath it that you won’t want to miss.

 

 

This excerpt  Chapter One of This Crumbling Pageant is a bonus.

Yay, bonus!

[But there is yet another bonus down below because I don’t want you to leave yet.]

 

A hand closed over her shoulder and yanked her away. Mr Jones was back, his dark cloak billowing, and he bent low, staring into her eyes with fierce concentration. “You will do as I say. And when this night is over, you will forget…”

 

Something was wrong, terrifyingly wrong.

 

It was the same feeling she’d had when he’d first awakened her in the night, the same helplessness. She was trapped and unable to breathe, mists swirling within her head.

 

He was invading her mind with magic!

 

She fought for air, for life itself, or so it felt, and wrenched herself free.

 

She gasped in a deep breath, then she looked into his eyes and saw his shock.

 

“You… you can’t block me out!”

 

Emboldened, she fought him with flailing fists.

 

His hand connected with her mouth, and she tasted blood, but he was the one who drew back with a yelp and a curse. “If you value your life, stupid little Fury, you’ll not do that again.”

 

Contrôle de l’esprit? This was why Dardanus never could tell her what had happened to him?

 

Dardanus hadn’t been hiding his shame from her. He didn’t remember it.

 

Mind magic.

 

Mr Jones had attempted to use mind magic upon her and had failed, but he had clearly succeeded with Dardanus. And what about her older brothers? Cosmo and Lysander? Had he used this wicked power on them, as well?

 

“You’re using contrôle de l’esprit!” And then, despite herself, she had to ask, “It’s real? It really exists?”

 

“And isn’t that sheer perfection, the stupid little Fury embracing French affectations?” He glared down his long nose, his hair tangled from the wind.

 

“You prefer the term potentia phasma?” She felt a thrill of pride.

 

“Latin? A dead language for a power that reeks of life? Your airs disgust me.”

 

Her cheeks burned. “Draíocht intinne, then.”

 

He turned his back to her and began digging in a saddlebag.

 

It was her turn to sneer. “Or do you not recognise the term espoused by Sir Aengus in An History of Irish Magic?”

 

“If you are quite finished with your pitiful exhibit of knowledge of tomes of dubious scholarship,” he snapped, “please tell me, Miss Persephone, whether or not you share your family’s musical talent?”

 

“It is no mere talent. It is a Gift, bestowed upon our ancestors by Apollo himself, and if you had ever lowered yourself to teach me, you would not ask that question.” She rose to her full height, despite the fact that such displays sent her mother into fits of despair. “Yes. I make music.”

 

“Then I pray thee…” He whirled and handed her a battered fiddle and bow. “Prove it.”

 

He grasped her wrist and dragged her into the midst of the stinking crowd of people—Ordinary people, for Magi did not stink—and thrust her towards the base of a broken column left over from Roman rule, now less than a yard high and almost as wide. He tossed a cap at the foot of it, leaving it gaping wide towards the night sky.

 

“Gods be damned—the theatre’s patrons are already leaving. Play!”

 

She hesitated, the desire to refuse strong. But then what? Who would rescue her here? Who would come to her aid if he attacked her, or worse, what would she do if he abandoned her?

 

He had threatened to expose her in such a way that the Magi’s Beau Monde would not only recoil from her, but from Electra. Even now, her home was bustling with preparations for the first Fury musicale in decades, when they would use their Gift to remind Society who the Furys were and what they had been and what they would be again—and would secure her sister’s place amongst this Season’s beauties.

 

As he watched from between the buildings, she scrambled up the broken column until she balanced on its uneven surface, bracing her weight on her forward foot. It was a most unladylike position, but in trousers it hardly mattered.

 

Her hands caressed the fiddle’s battered and scarred surface until she felt its soul beneath her fingertips, felt it longing to release its voice. It had never been a grand instrument, but it had once known joy. It had once played airs for dancing and now was barely able to hold a tune, she feared, its pegs hardly able to keep its strings taut.

 

No matter to a Fury. She was quite certain that Dardanus had brought forth sweet music from its depths because, despite the planet-struck nature of his birth, as a Fury, he could do no less.

 

A small smile quirked the corners of her lips.

 

But the battered fiddle had never been played by Persephone Fury.

 

She raised it to her chin and drew her bow across the strings, releasing one long, quivering note into the night.

 

Deep in her breast, a long, quivering sigh responded.

 

She met those black eyes across the crowd, and a bolt of fear shot through her.

 

She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply of filth and all that was Ordinary, tilted her head to listen, and played.

 

 

 

What? Oh, funny you should notice. Thanks for reminding me.

Ashlyn mentioned an occasional reminder of Snape, too, didn’t she?

That, my dears, is yet another blog entry.

TODAY I HAVE QUESTIONS!

ONE: If you haven’t read any of The Fury Triad but read/watched the  Potter series —

Who is your favorite Potter character?

My favorite characters were the Weasley Twins all the way through to almost the end of the series, at which point another character shot to the top of the list.

[Yes, you guessed it, yet another post.]

TWO: If you have read either or both books in The Fury Triad and know Potterdom as well–

Have you suspected any Potter influences in Persephone’s world?

[I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve noticed some I didn’t notice myself!]

THREE: And if you are only here for the Furys–

Who is your favorite character in the Fury Triad so far?

Well, I guess the obvious answers are the main characters but if I ignore them, it might be a tie between Cosmo and the Old Queen. Or not. Don’t me ME choose! They are all my children!

Run answer the question you like best first, please,
and then if you know Potter, come back for the bonus.

Bonus! Another offering from the Cult of Hermione. [Adult language.]

 

 

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