#userfyre

[salazarslytherin]

hp meme ~ [4/5] - deaths

4/5 - bellatrix lestrange

[expelumos]

character posters → hermione granger 

@hogwartsgirlgang event: trio ladies

[lilyevcnz]

@fortescuesnet event: get to know the members: favourite definitely alive characters : NIMPHADORA TONKS

“ -“Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," finished Lupin.

  -"So would you if your fool of a mother had called you 'Nymphadora,' " muttered Tonks. “

[fiirelords]

H O G W A R T S    H O U S E S

[willgrcham]

my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them

harry potter meme // [4/7] relationships

[roxanncweasley]

the art of being a gentleman

because who doesn’t want a muggle au? 

James should be thinking about several things.

He should be thinking about his history course work due in two days or his match on Saturday. He should be thinking about the prefect timetable he has yet to organise and he definitely should be thinking about the niggling pain in the back of his knee and if he should mention it to his coach. What he categorically shouldn’t be thinking about is the pretty redhead at his bus stop and how he wants to kiss the colour out of her lips and hold it in his chest.

She’s wearing those bloody jeans again, the same as the week before, that hug her legs and around her waist (and other areas James definitely isn’t looking at). The streetlamps have already clicked on, her skin is woven gold under the amber light.

He can’t look away, won’t look away as she wanders up and down the bus stop, her fingers tapping at her phone screen and her mouth lifting into a lazy smile as she reads a text. Thunderous grey clouds hang heavy in the sky and he wonders if he is going mad, standing in the cold about to be soaked when with one call he could have a car pick him up with complimentary tea and biscuits.

The girl smiles again and he knows he’s going mad because his heart is pumping in his throat and flowers are growing through his ribs. His phones rings and he lifts it to his ear, noticing there is still a smear of blood across his bruised knuckles.

“We need your help,” Sirius tells him. James can hear what he thinks is Pete trying to move a bed. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the bus stop, I need to nip to the flat to grab something.” James tells him, craning his neck to see if the bus is coming. The girl glances at him, pulling her bottom lip through her teeth. James flashes her a grin and blood burns up the neck he so desperately wants to press his lips against.

“I thought that’s what you were doing last week?” Sirius replies.

“Yeah, I just need something else.” James winces at the silence that follows. There’s another crash and Pete is violently swearing.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that redhead who was on the bus last week, would it?”

James can’t stop his eyes flickering to where she stands, leaning against a lamppost, her silhouette cut from the shadows. “Err- potentially- anyway why did you need me?”

“We’re trying to find Moony’s philosophy notes, he’s hidden them.”

He runs his hand through his hair, it needs a wash to get rid of the remnants of mud. “Obviously, last time you used them you spilt gin all over them.”

“That wasn’t my fau- oh you utter bastard you know where they are don’t you?”

James laughs and leans against the crumbling brick wall behind him. “Look, Pads, I’ve got to go, I’ll see you tonight.”

There’s more crashing and what sounds like ‘James you fucker’ before James can press end call. The girl is staring at him, the corner of her mouth twitching. He pockets his phone with a sheepish grin at her. He’s about to ask her something, anything. Words are climbing up his throat and dancing across his tongue, a ballet of letters held between his teeth.

Then the sky opens.

The rain isn’t particularly heavy but it’s the sort that seeps under the skin and lingers in the blood, James’s hair is already damp by the time he gets his hood up. The girl is shivering, her thin jumper soaked through. James’s legs start moving before his brain does, his hands unzipping his rugby bag and fishing out his school hoodie. The girl looks confused, James must too because he’s not really sure what he’s doing.

“Here, it’ll stop you freezing to death.” He says, offering it to her. She reaches for it, uncertainty spilling out of her eyes. “I’m James, by the way.”

“You’re not a serial killer, are you?” she asks once she’s tugged it over her head. He almost misses the question, thinking too much about how she would look in nothing but his rugby shirt.

She’s staring at him expectantly, her brow crinkled ever so slightly.

“Only on Thursdays, you should be safe.”

She laughs, sunlight falling from her lips, her fingers tucking strands of copper hair under the hood. “I’m Lily,” she says. Lily. He nods, it settles in his stomach like it’s always been there, Lily. The rain keeps up it’s symphony on the pavement.

“So how posh are you, on a scale of Eddie Redmayne to Prince William?” she asks. Her eyes are alight, her voice bubbling like cheap champagne. He thinks he might be already drunk.

He raises an eyebrow, pretends to look offended, drinks in the light that’s pouring out of her. “Me, posh? Never.” Her phone beeps but her hands stay tucked in the pockets of his hoodie, he lets a drop of warmth creep into his bones.

“Seriously though, I hear your school fees are insane.”

He glances at the crest stitched into his jacket, into the hoodie, into his skin. Red and gold and laughter and adrenaline and home. “I’m not that posh. Sirius, he’s a lord, but I’m nothing special.”

He knows the weight the name carries, knows the looks in the street, the eyes noting the tie and blazer, the polished shoes and tailored trousers. He knows what they think of, arrogance smirks and burnt fifty pound notes, wrecked cars and opportunities thrown about like paper in a classroom. They’re not all like that, he’s not like that.

“A lord, huh?” she says, “Can you get me his number?”

He lets his jaw drop as she giggles. “Well, Lily, I’ll have my hoodie back if that’s your attitude.”

She crosses her arms over her chest (not looking not looking not looking) and shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry, don’t take away the hoodie.” She says, jutting out her bottom lip and looking mildly pathetic. He lets a smirk play over his lips, watches as her cheeks tint ever so slightly.

“I’ll let you off, just this once.”

The bus appears at the end of the road and he holds his arm out, letting her climb on first when it’s door clunk open (his mother raised a gentleman of sorts after all). She’s waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs and he follows her onto the top deck where she flops into a seat, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I’m so tired,” she moans, covering her eyes with her hand.

He laughs and raises his own to lower his hood and runs his fingers through his hair.

He hears Lily gasp and suddenly her fingers are tracing the ripped skin littered across the back of his hand, ghosting over the mottled bruises and bloodies knuckles. “What the fuck did you do?” she asks. He thinks, he hopes, he can hear concern.

“Some twat stamped on my hand with studs.” He can’t stop the anger that tremors up his throat. He can’t stop the rage that bubbles at the thought of the words sneered in the dining hall and scribbled in the back pages of textbooks.

Lily is still holding his hand, her chipped blue nails next to his torn ones. “It’s rugby, it’s normal,” he tells her, seeing her brow stay creased and her eyes flicker up and down his palm. He doesn’t tell her that it’s got worse recently, that the boys who would scoff at her battered bag and high-street clothes will grow up to sit in the benches at Westminster, that the boys who already hate her and the rest of her school will be the men who will try and tear her family into the streets, law by law.

No, he won’t be the one to tell her he shares classrooms with the lowest of the low.

He lets her release his hand and listens as she talks about the latest films that she’s been waiting to come out and a protest she’s going to next week. The bus turns a corner and she leans into him, the warmth from her leg leaking into his. She blushes a little and he raises his eyebrows.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me, Lily, but you don’t have to be so obvious.”

She hits him and he is laughing so hard that he nearly falls off his seat.

He thinks he could sit here forever but his stop is coming up and his lead filled hand just about manages to press the bell. Her smile drops ever so slightly and she starts to shrug off his hoodie.

“Keep it,” he says. “It’s still raining.”

“It was nice meeting you.” She says, fingers tucking hair behind ears. “and thank you.”

He finds a pen in his pocket and tugs her arm towards him gently, rolling up the sleeve of the hoodie and pulling off the cap with his teeth. Before she has time to say anything he’s writing his number up her forearm.

“Text me when you get home, it’s dark.” He tells her. She bites her lip and smiles and he thinks that his ribcage is about to explode.

“Do you normally show this much concern for strangers?” she asks.

The bus rolls to a stop. He pulls himself to his feet. “Only the pretty ones.”

[fleur]

closed

do you find yourself wanting to send your latest edit to at least 5 people to decide between those last two images? on the verge of tears because you can’t think of the best way to word your next sentence? do you love Validation™? then the indecisivenet is for you! my aim for this network is to create a home for creators (and some non-creators! but i will be focusing on getting writers and edit makers) where you can roll into the chat yelling your head off about anything you can’t decide on without feeling like you're pestering anyone! and i would also love for it to turn into a place to share resources and help get each other inspired! 

rules

must be following me

reblog this post! (likes for bookmarking only)

fill out this form (i promise it’s quick!)

what i’m looking for 

a good mix of hp and multifandom blogs

activity in the chat! both seeking and offering opinions!

friendly bloggers with active well-organised blogs!

it is not required that you post original content, but it’s preferred

what you’ll get

advice and opinions!! i’ll have different channels in the chat, covering tumblr things and real life!

a spot on the member's page (and potentially the blog, see typeform!)

a tag to post your content and selfies, etc! (#indecisivenet)

friends and followers!! i really want this to become a source of support for all of us content makers!

depending on the amount of entries i receive, i’ll be accepting around 20+ members! the deadline is June 6th and this never happened if it doesn’t pass 40 notes 💕 

[blackregulus]

bellatrix lestrange ;  @hpminorcharnet get to know me → dev’s favorite characters

every woman is half angel