I was on the bus thinking about Harry Potter tonight and I remembered the part where the Dementors all show up at the Quidditch game, and I remembered how they were all looking up at Harry, and I wondered why they would all be staring at him, and then I realized that it’s because he has two souls in him.

On this note, wouldn’t that also be a reason why Harry would have had a more negative reaction than his friends (even Ginny)? He was hearing his mother’s voice as she was protecting him, which in itself was his worst memory. but the Dementors were also forcing the piece of Voldemort to relive its worst memory as well… The memory of being ripped apart by the curse that backfired. No wonder Harry passed out so often.

I literally never thought about that.

omg…

HOLY

Oh FUCKING HELL, you just made me realize that it wasn’t Harry’s memory that was his father telling Lily to take Harry and run, and it wasn’t Harry’s memory of Lily screaming.

Here I was, just eating a cup of applesauce under the 14-year-long assumption that the reason a small infant was able to remember something was because this was a fictional world of magic, but no, now this entirely reasonable and somewhat less terrifying bubble has burst and I’m never going to recapture that innocence. 

I’m going to fucking bed.

When does it come to you? At any point during the day. You’re laughing at him in a blaring common room, walls swathed in red. There is light fighting for opulence behind stained-glass windows and the carpet smells distinctly ashy from the hearth. Everything is comforting; you know here, you belong here, here is home. You are completely reconciled to this homeliness when the realization punches you in the gut. And it is all consuming, shocking your body, numbing your limbs, freezing you, and yet you are not cold, because it is not unfamiliar, it is real, as though you have known it all your life, as if loving him is as easy as breathing. So you smile benignly at the joke he just made at your expense and ignore the way the light is fighting in front of your eyes, stinging your irises, coating his jaw. You smile as though nothing has happened, as though nothing has changed. Instead you are quelling something in your gut, something that is fiercely bright and rushing light to every corner of your body in torrid currents. And when it is stately to leave, at a point when it could be considered normal to walk away from him, you do, marching towards the staircase with your books in your arms. And no-one notices you leaving with any suspicion. Except him. Because he does not want you to go.

When it comes to him it is something wildly unruly, and the only thing unfamiliar about it is how unwieldy it is, and the reason he swerves away from it unlike everything else, every smile he can coax from a crowd, from you, is because he has supressed it for so long, unconsciously, because he thinks he does not deserve you, because he has been conscious of you and how wonderful you are, and he is resigned to knowing that to be blessed in your presence is something that he will not always have. And so when it hits him, he is clutching cold enamel beneath his hands, a sensation akin to nights spent sprawled on cold tiles, throwing up fluorescent, scorching alcohol, burning his throat on the way up. This is what it is to him, not at all dissimilar to that, thrumming, fueled with the premonition of impending doom, but it shocks him, quakes him, and he is shaking and crying and clutching the edge of the sink, and it is knocking his pelvic bone until he turns to look in the mirror, his face flushed and splotchy with the crying, the sensation as recalcitrant and too natural to be dissolved, as he is, and it rocks him to his core. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her.

And she loves him too.

There’s no time.

Find some way to remember me.

I can’t even get a text back

so i was thinking.....

you know how when harry sees james, lily, remus and sirius w/ the resurrection stone? and remus & sirius look “younger than he’s ever seen them,” but lily & james are described to be wearing the clothes that they died in?

is JKR trying to imply that enough of remus & sirius died the day james & lily died that when they came “back” they were their 21 year old selves? 

like, although remus & sirius lived, it could be argued that what made them them died on october 31st, 1981.

i mean, sirius lost james and lily, who were betrayed by peter and was sentenced to life in azkaban for a crime he didn’t commit with the knowledge that:  a) peter had gone free and b) remus, his only remaining living friend, thought he was the reason james and lily (and “peter”) were dead and he has to live with that for TWELVE YEARS. by the end of that, he’s not really sirius anymore. 

and remus, poor sweet remus, he thinks that james, lily and peter have been killed, murdered, because of sirius who is supposed to be their best friend and who he loved so much and he went from having an amazing group of friends who loved him and supported him when he thought that no one ever would to nothing in one night, and he lived for twelve years alone. twelve years of full moons alone, always remembering what used to be and believing sirius was the one who ruined it.

so, i think it could be argued that, by the end of the twelve years, remus wasn’t really remus anymore either

so essentially, remus, sirius, james and lily “died” in 1981

Lily Evans Potter.

Lily is nine.

It made her happy that she managed to revive a dying flower.

It made her unhappy that Tuney snatched it away and crushed it.

Lily is ten.

It made her happy that she’s made a new friend, his name is Severus.

It made her unhappy that Tuney said he was “a freak, just like her.”

Lily is eleven.

It made her happy that she was going off to Hogwarts, with Sev.

It made her unhappy that Petunia didn’t come to drop her off to King’s Cross.

Lily is twelve.

It made her happy that she’s rooming with Marlene, Mary, Alice and Dorcas, her best friends, besides Sev, of course.

It made her unhappy that Sev had started hanging out with Mulciber, Nott and Malfoy, he had been talking to her much less now.

Lily is thirteen.

It made her happy that she was top of almost all of her classes.

It made her unhappy that Potter and his friends bullied Severus, and that he’d called her a mudblood.

Lily is fourteen.

It made her happy that had formed a friendship with Remus, she couldn’t understand how someone that nice was always with Potter and Black.

It made her unhappy that Potter would not stop asking her out.

Lily is fifteen.

It made her happy that she had managed to finally forgive Po—James and Black, forming a tentative friendship with the both of them.

It made her unhappy that Severus wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

Lily is sixteen.

It made her happy that James had finally plucked up the courage to kiss her,

It made her unhappy that there was a war looming.

Lily is seventeen.

It made her happy that she could cuddle with James by the Gryffindor fireplace, making fun of Sirius and Marlene for being caught in the broom cupboard, while Remus, Peter, Dorcas and Alice laughed openly.

It made her unhappy that there always was an empty spot for Mary, who’s Muggle parents didn’t let her come back for their last year because it was too dangerous.

Lily is eighteen.

It made her happy that she married James, at the Order headquarters. Marlene was her maid of honour, Sirius was James’ best man, Dumbledore officiated the wedding and Remus walked her down the aisle.

It made her unhappy that her family couldn’t make it due to safety reason, and Petunia had sent back the letter telling her about the wedding, back unopened.

Lily is nineteen.

It made her happy that she was pregnant and James wanted to make Sirius and Marlene the godparents.

It made her unhappy that four days after their announcement, Mar was found dead in her apartment. Sirius had hugged her, tight, and they’d cried the whole night.

Lily is twenty.

It made her happy that she had James and her four kids, Harry, Sirius, Remus and Peter. Alice and Frank had a baby boy too.

It made her unhappy that a prophecy had marked her baby for death, and they had to go into hiding.

Lily is twenty-one.

It made her happy that, even as she saw the green light, she knew her baby boy would survive.

It made her unhappy that she would never see him grow up.

journalist!au

I.

“Come on,” drawls a bored Sirius in her ear. “It’s a dress, Evans, not a potato sack.”

“Easy for you to say,” she mutters, glaring at the mess of satin and straps pasted onto her body. “You’re not the one trying to look good in it.”

“Good thing, too, or else your self esteem would plummet.”

“We have maybe three minutes until it’s showtime,” says Peter, also over the comms. “So if you could just speed it up a little - “

“Evans?” comes Potter’s voice from outside the bathroom. “All set?”

“Men,” she sighs, finally turning away from the mirror. “You lot are all so bloody impatient, whether it’s for a date or for a top-secret mission - “

Her voice dies in her throat when she yanks open the door. 

James Potter is standing three feet away from her in a fitted tuxedo, crisp shirt snowy against his dark skin and hair devastatingly mussed. He is, thankfully, fumbling with a cufflink at the moment, and so misses the undoubtably idiotic look on her face. 

Remus, however, doesn’t miss a thing, and tips her an enormous wink behind his friend’s back. She feels her face heat up.

“Don’t you both look dapper,” she manages, after a beat to compose herself.

James looks up at her, eyes wide. “You look gorgeous, Evans,” he tells her, voice steady and earnest.

Merlin, she’s fucked.

↳Hey dark eyes

Rest with me a while as I drift closer to sleep

But still cannot

Still cannot find no peace

@cocoartistwrites - this gutted look from fred is 100% in laugh lines

@frak-all omfg why w h y