#me in class when i get the answer wrong
#me in class when i get the answer wrong
Titanic conspiracy exposed
Head canon: Accepted
Let’s help Luke out on this one!
This Sunday is August’s #SaveInTheFlesh Social Media Sunday.
So, on Sunday 31st August at 10pm UK time, we all start talking about In The Flesh and how much we want series 3 on facebook, twitter and tumblr.
If you’re new to the fandom, #SaveInTheFlesh Social Media Sunday is a campaign event the fandom holds on the last Sunday of every month. Full details on how to take part can be found on this post from last month’s event, and here is our tag for Social Media Sundays.
Hope to see you all there! :)
Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)Reblogging this kickass post by the equally kickasslavenderpatilbecause everyone should read it
This gave me goosebumps and tears the whole way through
i am attracted to all versions of chris evans but i cannot decide which one is hotter??? he’s just so good looking??
closely shaved head and dark bearded evans?? extremely cleanshaven blonde steve rogers evans?? young and freckly evans? scruff with hipster glasses evans??? normal brown hair and full beard evans??
look i’m having a chrisis
I will reblog this everyday
We are The Muses. Goddesses of the Arts and proclaimers of heroes.
Calliope, Clio, Terpsichore, Melpomene, Thalia
why did no one ever tell me this photo existed [x]
what I’m saying is everyone on Supernatural should wear 200% less clothing
There should be an episode of Supernatural where the boys get cursed and they look naked to everyone. And we get a lot of shots with strategically placed objects. Like oh, I wonder what’s behind that bowl…
I almost choked
The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies - Official Teaser Trailer [x]