My headcanon is that the house mascots are the founders’ animagus forms.
I was thinking the same. Funny thing is, that would make Gidric a Rumbleroar-like character, which would explain the Pigfarts myth. Funnier thing is that Salazar would possibly be a basylisk and the basylisk that Harry killed was more than 1000 years old, which we know, because only Salazar could put it in there. Nobody knows how or when he died, he just sort of disappeared…
Let’s just say that it is not entirely impossible that Harry killed Salazar Slytherin in his second year with Godric Gryffindor’s sword.
James:never sleeps past 7. never writes anything down. never wears matching socks. never interrupts you. never closes his curtains. never misses a pun. never forgets a birthday. never puts milk in his tea. never turned 22. // always puts sugar in his coffee. always supporting his friends. always dramatic. always laughing. always sneezing. always playing with a snitch. always thinking about Lily. always full of love. always watching over harry.
Lily: never awake before 7. never on time. never without a quill. never forgets a name. never leaves a dirty cup in the sink. never without a snarky quip. never puts sugar in her coffee. never got to see her son grow up. // always tripping over. always gets mint choc chip ice cream. always napping. always braiding her hair. always humming. always loosing her train of thought. always hugging people. always holding someone’s hand. always protecting her family.
That feeling when you walk into the bathroom to take a bath, the water is pouring, and your boyfriend is sitting on the bath sucking a giant lollipop, looking like his dog just died.
someday, in the distant future, humans will once again be capable of hearing the phrase “what is love” without also feeling the primal urge to respond with “baby don’t hurt me”
So at that point, people will say “baby don’t hurt me”…no more?
James loves Lily best at 6 am on a Tuesday, when she burrows under the covers and murmurs something to herself before slipping back into a deeper sleep. He hates getting out of bed and leaving her. He presses a kiss to her forehead before he goes.
James loves Lily best at noon on a Saturday, when they carry their sandwiches outside and eat them in the grass and the sunlight is tangling through her hair and turning it golden. He can’t help but reach out to tuck a silky strand behind her ear.
James loves Lily best at 8 pm on a Monday, when she’s curled up barefooted on the couch with a book tucked in her lap and she’s pulling her lower lip between her teeth in concentration. He’s polishing his broomstick but he’s also watching her, transfixed.
James loves Lily best at 9 am on a Sunday, when her hands are clutched around her favorite mug and the steam curls up around her face as she smiles at him or at something he’s said. He smiles back because it seems like all he can do when she’s around.
James loves Lily best at 5 pm on a Wednesday, when she’s padding around the kitchen for a little of this and a little of that to add to the pot. He slips up behind her and pulls her close, dropping his nose into the crown of her head until he’s filled with the smell of her.
James loves Lily best at midnight on a Friday, when they’re out late with friends and her laughter rings out like bells and makes her green eyes dance. The rest of the world has become a little bit hazy, but he sees her so clearly she might as well be the only other person in the room.
James loves Lily best at 3 pm on a Thursday, when she pulls him up by the hand and drags him outside because it’s too nice of a day to spend it indoors. He slips his fingers between hers and their linked hands swing gently between them. He can’t remember when he was happier.
James loves Lily best.
He’s polishing his broomstick but he’s also watching her, transfixed. - WHAAAT?! :D
once the veil began to envelop sirius, he no longer saw the mortal world. but rather the world he was entering: the afterlife.
you just know
that after fourteen long years, sirius finally saw james again.
in all honesty, i never meant for this post to be a sad one. i mean, there was no one in the world that sirius loved more than james.
the reason i made this post was because i noticed the beginnings of a smile on sirius’ face as he began to be enveloped by the veil. he was smiling. despite the fact that he had died and left harry behind, i believed that he was happy.
it had been fourteen years, at least 4,231 days of those days were in azkaban. and after he escaped, he was on the run and cooped up in his childhood home. a place that he absolutely hated. you better believe that he thought of james every single day. thought of his face, his odd habits, his laugh, the way he cried when he saw lily at the end of aisle on his wedding day. anything that he could remember.
in a desperate attempt to avoid forgetting, he’d run through all the details that he could remember. and then sometime during his third year in that cell, he struggled to remember the sound of his best friend’s voice. the pain that caused him was greater than anything the dementors could ever cause him.
imagine: a bright corridor of doors in the afterlife. each one belonging to a person that is alive. when it comes time for yours to open and you get to walk into the next life, oneperson already there gets to greet you. imagine sirius’ door opening and james is standing right there in front of him.
“hey, padfoot.”
just imagine that in the place that harry once stood, he saw a man who was nearly identical, just slightly taller with hazel eyes and no scar gracing his forehead. it took him a second to realize that it was a different person, he didn’t quite believe it was really james. and then it dawned on him.
sirius inhaled a sharp breath, because after fourteen years, he was finally hearing james’ voice again. he was finally remembering what it sounded like.
after fourteen long years, sirius was reunited with his best friend. his brother. it was the moment that he had dreamed of over and over again. when sirius exhaled that breath, he smiled because he knew that they’d never be separated again. and that was all sirius could ever ask for.
“Brett pulled his tank top up over his head and stared at himself in the full-length mirror. He pushed down his jeans, then his boxers, and imagined the moment when Jennifer saw him nude for the first time. His feet were average-sized, and there was hair on his toes that he should probably take care of before tonight. He liked his legs just fine, but his thighs were wide and embarrassingly muscular. He tried standing at an angle, a twist at his waist. Some improvement. In that position, it was easier to see his ass and notice that it was not as pert as it had been at 22. He clenched both cheeks, hoping that tightened its look. He sucked in his tummy and pulled his pecs up high, trying to present them like pastries in a bakery window. Would she like him? Were the goods good enough? He pouted his lips and ran his hands over his thighs, masking their expanse. Maybe.”
“There is a particular look about a teenage boy that lets you know what kind of man he’ll be. A certain fullness of lips, a frank sensuality in his gaze. We all know what the word for that is, but it’s not polite to use it until he’s proven he’s that kind of boy.”
“But I don’t get it!” Shea was panting, trying to catch up to Michael as he fled. “The monster ate everyone else. How did you escape?”
Michael reached the boat first, flinging himself in. He waited for Shea to follow him and take the oars, guiding them smoothly away from the shore.
“It’s because I was different from the other boys,” he said, pushing his hair behind his ear and looking away.
“What do you mean, different?” Shea’s muscles rippled and flexed as she rowed them to safety, and Michael could not tear his eyes away.
“Different. Pure, the monster said. Because I’m… I’ve never…” He looked away again, and the moonlight caught on his throat, outlined his clavicle.
“You’re a virgin,” Shea said, realization dawning. “What a waste.”
Michael blushed.
“If we get out of this alive,“ she said. “I’m going to fix that.”
