Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)Reblogging this kickass post by the equally kickasslavenderpatilbecause everyone should read it
dark times are coming for bloggers who don’t watch doctor who
my worst fear is looking bad in a photo with a celebrity
Pluto Tumblr Posts photoset
i just wanna shake the hand of whoever came up with the ALS ice bucket challenge. not only is it raising awareness of an important cause, i’ve also seen more damp celebrities in clinging t-shirts in the past week than i ever dreamed possible.
but why do famous people get things for free if they’re the ones that can afford it
Fudge recipe on a headstone
I feel like I should make this just to be able to say a dead person taught me how to make it. Maybe I’ll do it for Halloween.
I desperately hope that she spent her entire life telling people that they could have her fudge recipe “over my dead body.”
That last comment is absolutely worth reblogging.
As many frustrated fans have pointed out online, much of the official Guardians of the Galaxy merchandise leaves out Gamora, one of the movie’s five titular Guardians, played by Zoe Saldana. Though Gamora has an equal amount of screen time as her male colleagues, and Saldana is second-billed after Chris Pratt, Gamora is mysteriously absent in some egregious ways.
These are like the polar opposite of the infomercial gifs
I stumbled upon this video a long time ago and it honestly made me feel a lot better.
"If you’ve never failed, you’ve never lived."
I could not fit everyone mentioned in the video in this post so be sure to give the video a look.
2014 was one of those years that started out like “THIS IS GOING TO BE GREAT!!!” and its halfway through and we have a war going on, a deadly disease has been spread, countless shootings have happened, racism is alive, more people have…
Bless the Sultan
The fact that that was the thing that pulled the Sultan out of his trance.
there are two types of cute
"aw how adorable" cute
"aw i want to make out with you holy shit" cute
and my goal is to be both of them
Don’t be scared now. Let’s all participate!!