Gryffindor

"The thing about growing up with Fred and George, is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."

[kartsie]

I had too much fun making this

vine reference

[letterboxdd]

just watch this. 

“blablabla, disloyalty”

“oooh!” 

*giggling adorably together*

[chelsie-carson]

I so adore these two women … and in these roles!

[2lix]

okay but imagine harry making a group chat for his friends from hogwarts just because and draco is there too but he literally never talks because he’s all like “that’s a muggle thing phew” but really he didn’t know how to use that

AND the first time that draco actually talks in the group chat is to send a video of harry who stubbed his toe on a table and is lying on the floor curled up into a ball screaming “I DIDN’T KILL VOLDEMORT FOR THIS”

and then the camera switches to draco’s bored face and with the most monotone voice ever he says “the boy who lived twice” and he’s holding a clock that shows 4:27am

[corvuses]

*sirius black voice* remus will you kill this spider for me

*remus lupin voice* is it trying to hurt you, sirius

*sirius black voice* its on my bed and hurting my heart 

*quiet james potter voice* engorgio

*loud, horrified sirius black shrieking*

[tinylilemrys]

Headcanon that an outraged 6-year-old Charlie Weasley writes to an elderly Newt Scamander wanting to know why Gringotts keeps a dragon locked up underground and begging him to fix it. Newt writes back saying that sadly he’s been fighting that fight for years and no one ever wants to listen to him because the powerful families whose money is being kept safe by the dragon always shut him down, and that Charlie is the first person he’s heard of who’s as angry as he is about it. Charlie decides that day to dedicate his life to finding out everything he can about dragons so that one day he can free the poor Gringotts dragon. After the war, when they hear that Harry, Ron and Hermione freed the dragon, they celebrate and immediately begin petitioning to have it made illegal to imprison dragons so that nothing like that ever happens again. It’s only when Hermione becomes Minister that it’s finally signed into law.

[lestatthecupcakeprince]

This is the best Harry Potter headcanon I’ve ever seen

[lulusketches]

Hagrid going back to Hogwarts after the war, and Harry taking him to Diagon Alley to return the favor :)

[dasstark]

a quick, super-quick pic of Newt just to say : Fantastic beasts were FANTASTIC!!!

[herbxlcy]

[fennethianell]

ok I love Fantastic Beasts and I need more of Newt and his Niffler 

[silverfanart-archive]

Finally posting this even if it’s cheesy and sloppy because I’m tired of having it untouched in my drawing folder aghhh! 

I dunno, I’m just really a fan of Molly being wary about Draco at first but then she starts treating him as her own son. I adore fics like that, gimme all of em

[mstrmagnolia]

Potter / Malfoy

[istehlurvz]

I’ve got 99 problems about cursed child but these two are not one of them.

Protect these boys from shoehorned heteronormativity

Please ask before using/rePOSTing

[gladiolus---amicitia]

I like to think that Rita Skeeter totally lost whatever renown she had after the war and so Harry and Ginny and the others like to pick up her stories for fun without worrying about the effect it’ll have on their image? Like Harry just idly turns a page every morning and goes, “Oh, we’re getting a divorce.” And Ginny yawns as she fetches two coffee mugs and says, “Is it because I’m snogging Neville?” “No,” says Harry, “it’s because I’m snogging Neville.” And Ginny slams down her mug and says, “Goddamnit, Harry, let me have my affair in peace, would you?”

[aenramsden]

They have this sort of conversation in public, sometimes. Especially in places (the Leaky Cauldron, the Three Broomsticks, etc) where they know that it’ll get back to Skeeter.

[satanstrousers]

I experienced magic in Central Park today

[sourwolfsam]

Gryffindors are bright mornings, leaves dripping in gold. They’re the trailblazers, unafraid of the road ahead. They’re laughing so loud your stomach hurts, the knowledge that your friends are right behind you wherever you go. They’re ice skating with someone you love, clinging on to them for dear life. They’re make-believe games with quests and dragons and swords pointing at the sky. They’re rosy cheeks, winter winds and freezing hands. They’re the adrenaline when a plane takes off, the drop at the top of a rollercoaster. They’re delighted screams and freedom, the wind through your hair. They’re panting, pillow fights, feathers bursting into the air. They’re finger painting and festivals and burning sunsets. They’re the burn in your lung after chasing something you’ll never be able to catch. 

Hufflepuffs are honey and flowers and the soft autumn sun. They’re knitted jumpers and scarves and soft tan boots. They’re fresh air and nature, the sound of birds singing. They’re rolling down a hill in the spring, grass stains on your knees, daisy chains in your hair. They’re waving at someone across a crowded room, bright smiles and laughter. They’re coming home after a long day and seeing your family. They’re playing fetch with your dog, your cat weaving between your feet. They’re fluffy socks and song birds and kraft notebooks with hand drawn patterns. They’re throw cushions on a bed, a tiny cottage surrounded by wilderness. They’re the ground beneath your feet, the air that you breathe. They’re the light you chase when you thought you’d never see the morning. 

Ravenclaws are leather bound books and overstocked libraries. They’re waking up at two am to google that thing that’s bugging you. They’re journals with half the words crossed out, scribbles and ink stains and missing pages. They’re stretching when you’ve been hunched over all day, rolling off the edge of a bed, burrowing in blankets. They’re torch light and held breaths and reverent whispers. They’re the entire night sky and everything beyond it; the embodiment of the universe. They’re desperate searches and hidden castles and ghost stories by firelight. They’re the mystery of a dark corridor, the force of a whirlwind. They’re the excitement of discovery, the rustle of crunched up paper. They’re the last whisper before you fall asleep. 

Slytherins are foggy hillsides and picturesque landscapes. They’re hand written love notes and subtle glances across a classroom. They’re black boots, long coats, buttons done up to the top. They’re tipping your head back to breathe the air, kicking up stones on a deserted path. They’re mirrored lakes, everything below the surface. They’re the confidence to get something right, the feel of magic in your fingertips. They’re holding your breath underwater, pretending to be a mermaid when you swim. They’re finding that one song that makes you want to create a storm. They’re the chill in the breeze, the force in the tide. They’re enchanted forests and lingering glances and long drives. They’re the lightning and the thunder and everything in between. 

[artistformerlyknownasbutttrumpet]

general perception of remus lupin: wise and calm; the voice of reason; reasonable and never impulsive; the rational marauder 

actual canon remus lupin: pretends not to notice his friends breaking a million rules even though he’s a prefect; uses snape in drag as his very first lesson, ready to fucking just. straight up murder a person bc of betrayal; gives a 13 year old kid a map that he could easily get into serious trouble with; shit talks umbridge behind her back; spends pretty much an entire book chilling underground with shady werewolves; knocks up his wife in the middle of a war and then tries to run away; 0-100 real quick; has absolutely no chill whatsoever; is a fucking disaster of a human being

[atalienart]

[tastefullyoffensive]