Moominmamma has a conversation with the latest young foundling taking shelter in Moominhouse. (Oneshot. Drabble from RP blog. Info in AN.)

„To miała być prosta sprawa, w sam raz na miłą, małą odskocznię od domowej rutyny i powspominanie dawnych czasów. Urocza dolina, sympatyczni mieszkańcy i monstrum, które nie wykazywało większej agresji, a jedynie niszczyło uprawy, gasiło ogniska i od czasu do czasu straszyło dzieci, trudno nawet powiedzieć, czy celowo. Tymczasem..."

The one cross-over story that we didn't know we needed: Schofield & Moomins (not sure if it's a actual cross-over though since Moomin part is dream but I categorized it this way anyway)

what truly shapes a person into who they are This is an easy question to ask but a truly difficult one to answer And this is a question that has been answered multiple times with multiple different Harry's throughout the TheFanfiction Multiverse This tale is my answer to that question What sort of potential will Harry have when he is loved unconditionally how will he turn out

Harry Potter may not get to Hogwarts at time at all, as he's thrown out of his scheduled progression into another strange land of magic.

Huffing a little as he looks to the treetops seeing the sun starting to lower through the fall colored leaves. That part was starting to confuse him. He could have sworn at least some snow would have shown itself by now, at least a small frigid winter breeze. It smelled of Fall here. (Also on AO3)

Snufkin is in the midst of his winter travels when he comes across a strange beast.

Snufkin is regularly pulled away to journey out of the safety of their peaceful system near the edge Wildspace, but Moominmamma is always ready to welcome him home.

Snufkin had crippling depression until he met a special ogre.

A swarm of earthquakes hit the Moominvalley causing the sudden eruption of a dormant volcano. Soon after the Moomin family and everyones find themselves facing a wave of mysterious natural disasters… and ultimately discover an unbelievable consequence. Facing their owns extinctions and survival. Or they will pay a biggest price.

Im bardziej zbliżał się do "południa", tym lepiej pamiętał, że żadne "południe".

And a blue phone box, appearing suddenly in the middle of the forest, where the Groke was murmuring her sad, cold song – the blue phone box wasn't appropriate at all. In any way.