literature aesthetics: ginny weasley for @caarstairs
“The thing about growing up with Fred and George,“ said Ginny thoughtfully, "is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.”
trying on a metaphor
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hello vonnie

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YOU ARE THE REASON
KIROKAZE
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JBB: An Artblog!
cherry valley forever

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@hcgwartsnet
literature aesthetics: ginny weasley for @caarstairs
“The thing about growing up with Fred and George,“ said Ginny thoughtfully, "is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.”
How/when can I join
currently indefinite, this net is on a hiatus! there’ll be announcements on this blog if there are any changes xxx -liyah
is this net active?
hi, if it was active, there’d be posts xoxoxo - liyah
a little wish?
i know it’s a lot to ask for, but for christmas, could you guys get me to 4k? i’m at 3.5k rn, and it would absolutely be amazing if i’d reached that milestone before christmas. i promise i’ll do some kind of large celebration for it.
mutuals, signal boost?
xoxo, bonnie
is this love?
e.t x a.b.
@thehpshipsnet & @hogwartsschoolnet event: HOGWART’S SHIPS
harry potter houses
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you’ve a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind.
harry potter houses
Or perhaps in Slytherin, You’ll make your real friends, Those cunning folk use any means, To achieve their ends.
— R.A.B
to address a little thing:
drama is exhausting. it’s not nice. it’s not kind. and it certainly doesn’t help anyone in anything.
and it’s ok to disagree on something - not everyone is going to have the same thoughts, and that’s good. if everyone was the same, the world would be boring. the world wouldn’t have anything to offer.
but one thing that isn’t ok, is sending death threats, telling someone to kill themselves, because you disagree on something. and disagree may not be strong enough of a word, but it is not ok, ever, to tell someone to kill themselves.
i do not care who you are, what your success in life may be, who you are talking to, but it is absolutely, never ok to tell someone to kill themselves.
and if you do, i’d like to ask you, please, rethink your words before you send them, rethink your actions before they are performed, because you may not know how much they hurt. how much damage they inflict.
and how much it takes to really send someone over the edge.
think, before you say.
and grow up a little.
marlene mckinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family.
THE HOGWARTS CHALLENGE - [2/8] students/alumni → neville longbottom
I’LL JOIN YOU WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER
walk with me (grab my hand and i’ll lead the way.)
characters: petunia dursley, lily evans word count: 831 summary: petunia dursley has regrets. too many, it seems.
her name was petunia dursley.
she was proud of it—dursley: what a proper, english name—and she was proud with what she had come to in that life. but many do not remember that, in another life, long ago, she was once petunia evans.
the ironed skirts, primed sleeves, collared necks, and sensible shoes petunia dursley was once related to a bright eyed, brilliantly red-haired lily evans.
in another life, long ago, in a life filled with joy, pain, and heartbreak, two sisters sat side by side on a set of swings, wasting the days away. in a different world, in a better world, petunia’s regrets would’ve been her future.
with flowers blooming from their palms, laughter stemming from their hearts, and happiness coursing through their veins, the two sisters would have spent their lives together.
they would’ve spent afternoon teas bickering over idle gossip, as they watched their children grow up in the backyard. they would’ve gone to another when in need, asking for advice and knowing it would be given, and they would’ve loved each other.
in another world, lily evans would not have died.
in a better world, petunia dursley would have stayed petunia evans.
but this was not a better world, and lily potter remained six feet under the ground, and petunia dursley stayed with vernon, with dudley. she treated her sister’s only son with bitterness, jealousy, and hatred.
when petunia looked in the eyes of harry potter, she did not see his mother’s intelligence, nor his father’s humour. she saw the regrets of her life, the happiness she could’ve had, the sorrows of the life she did have, and the constant, constant reminder of the world that took lily evans. (it would always be lily evans. never potter. never the world that killed her.)
she did not see the bravery of her nephew, nor the kindness in his heart, and she did not see that he could’ve been her key to forgiveness.
and so when she found the baby that was her nephew on her doorstep with the letter (how insensitive could these people be?) informing her of her sister’s death, petunia did not cry.
she did not think of the infant before her. she did not think of the ways her sister could’ve died, but she did think of the reason.
lily evans would not have died if she had not been a witch.
she would not have died, and they would’ve lived their lives out together, at peace, and with joy.
she resisted the urge to kick the child, the urge to curl her lip at the wizard boy—the boy her sister had died for, the reason her sister was dead.
she picked him up, and the first thing she noticed was that he had lily’s eyes.
it was not the bleeding scar, or the small tuft of black hair, but his eyes.
they were never his eyes, she knew. they were lily’s. those eyes would always belong to lily.
the years passed, and harry grew older, and petunia never loved him.
and she never looked him in the eye.
she never knew of his potential, of his power, of his bravery, of his selflessness. she never saw him as anything more than the thing that brought the end of sister, never even thought of him as anything other than the reminder that this world, this world that took lily evans and slaughtered her, stayed progressing. moving on. without lily evans.
when harry was long gone from four privet drive, and dudley was with a family of his own, petunia was left alone.
vernon had been dead ten years, and harry gone twenty.
but he had visited once. and it was the last.
“why don’t you ever look me in the eye?” she remembered him asking, once, when they had met up, breaking their silence with another. “why can’t you let go?”
she could only stare at her cup of tea, the liquid trembling with her hand.
harry continued. “it’s been years petunia. nearly forty years since my mother has been dead.”
forty years, she thought, and she lifted her head to meet his face.
green, so brilliantly green.
“let go, petunia. because i know i have.”
and it was then, that she saw everything that she had missed—the kindness, the passion, the bravery, the goodness of the man that was harry potter, lily and james potter’s son, her nephew.
his eye’s were his mother’s.
but he was so much more.
he was a man who had been through hell, and he was a much better person than she had ever been, for he forgave. harry potter forgave.
she hoped that she was worthy of that forgiveness. (she wasn’t, and she knew it.)
but when petunia dursley died, she died as petunia evans, and when harry attended her funeral, he left a beautiful bouquet of lilies.
(petunia was buried beside her husband, but her ashes were left, scattered where they would stay, at her sister’s grave.)
@fandomaestheticnet: Hogwarts House Event → Ravenclaw
The Houses and Their Real Identities [click to enlarge ⚡ info]
harry potter aesthetic: house gryffindor
“You might belong in Gryffindor where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart.”
hufflepuff + coffee house, for @madelinecoffee