golden: ten songs for your best friends
d e l e t i n g f e e l i n g s [listen here}
feelings suck, and sometimes they are so heavy that you don’t know what to do and you feel this raging storm inside. whatever heartbreak or sorrow you may be facing - I hope this can help you.
WHAT DO U CALL THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES WEARING A BRA?!?!?
BRARACK OBAMA
He was sitting in the sand, trying not to think. || Ron/Hermione || PG
He was sitting in the sand, trying not to think. The days might appear to pass slower at Shell Cottage. But then again, they seemed to move too fast. He recalled Malfoy Manor almost as a distant nightmare, nearly a week after it had happened… after he’d almost lost her. But yet, he could hardly breathe before night would fall, bringing them another day closer to the next thing they had to do.
He heard her approaching and glanced right, to look at her, as she sat softly next to him.
“Harry alright?” he asked hoarsely.
She looked at him for a long moment, studying.
“Yes, he’s fine,” she said, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. It was no use, though… the salty breeze whipped it free again.
“Good.”
“We don’t always have to be about him, you know…”
He glanced sideways at her again, noting the flush of her cheeks, her chapped lips… the sprinkling of freckles decorating her nose.
“You’re right,” he said, quietly.
She looked up and met his eyes, smiling ever so slightly. But her forehead creased, a sadness flowing through her as she turned to gaze out at the waves again, mesmerisingly sweeping up the beach and back out to sea…
“Harry’s got that whole… being famous thing,” she said, corner of her mouth turning up as he curiously watched her profile.
“True…” he said, wondering where this could be going. Seconds earlier she’d implied she hadn’t wished to talk about Harry. Not now.
“And I’ve got… you know, book smarts.”
She said the last two words as if they carried some vile weight, a tempting drink laced with poison.
“That’s not a bad thing, you realise.”
She glanced at him again, a knowing look as he shrugged.
“It’s not,” he added, feeling the need to be sure she understood him.
“I know,” she said, simply, and there was that sadness again. “Ron, what do you want?”
Dazed, he shook his head slowly, hardly understanding the question.
“I’ve got you and Harry,” he replied, smiling. It was more than enough to want.
“But…” she encouraged, wanting more.
“I may have been a bit… shitty, before I left. I do know what I was like. But it wasn’t me. Not really. When I came back-”
“-and destroyed the locket-” she added, and he had sensed, for weeks, her gently prodding him to tell her everything. He wasn’t quite ready for that though. Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. Soon.
“Right,” he grinned, sliding a foot absently through the sand. “But before that, really. When I knew I’d be able to find you, that was enough, you know?”
“Ron…” she chewed her lip, almost nervously… “do you know?”
“What?”
His heart beat suddenly faster, though he couldn’t explain why.
“I see the way you are, and for some reason, you think you aren’t as important or special or…” She shrugged, and he sniffed.
“That’s alright,” he said, glancing down at her hand, fingers swirling through the sand between them. “I don’t need to be anything. I’m happy. Well, that’s not the right word, is it? We’re in the middle of a damn war. But… I’m where I’m supposed to be now. I used to… I dunno… need to be best at something, yeah? But that seems… not very important to me anymore.”
“Ron…” she tried again, unable to meet his eyes. “You need to know… I think you’re… wonderful.”
He stared at her profile, half holding his breath. Her words kept striking him, not sharp, but perfect. Resonating. Hermione… his best friend, save Harry. Brilliant, clever, unbelievable… and she thought…
“You…” he managed to breathe, heart caught somewhere halfway up his throat. He took a deep inhale and smiled to himself, a new feeling growing.
She looked his way, finally, and gave him the tiniest smile, a mixture of reassurance and embarrassment that he had never seen cross her features before.
“You’re best at a lot of things,” she added, at a notch above a whisper.
“Like what?” he heard himself ask, through the thudding of his heart.
“For me…” she began, but she stopped short, eyes widening before she left it.
For her? Could she mean what he thought she might?
His lips parted, and he was overwhelmed.
He didn’t see himself as brilliant. Nothing close to her. And he wasn’t bloody famous, that much was certain. But… was it possible that he was exactly what she wanted? Somehow it felt like the truth, as tendrils of her wild hair tangled across her reddened cheeks.
If that could be true, if she’d meant it the way he could tell himself he had heard it…
Then he was hers, not just because he’d wanted to be so badly that he’d made it true. He was because she wanted him to be.
And that was far, far greater than anything else he could have ever dreamt to achieve. Sod fame. Sod being the best for anyone else.
She chose him. He’d hardly realised what it would really mean to hear it.
“Me too,” he added, unsure if she could understand what he meant.
But as she took in a tiny, sharp breath, eyes watering as she leaned against him, her head coming to rest with a sigh atop his shoulder, he thought that maybe, possibly, she did know…
Exactly.
Sometimes I think people forget Andromeda Tonks (née Black), middle sister of Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy, who married muggle-born Ted Tonks, and raised quirky Hufflepuff Nymphadora Tonks, was a Slytherin.
#ThrowbackThursday: 14 September 2001
HERMIONE GRANGER: ALL IN A NAME?
Not a fortnight ago, the wizarding community awoke to the news that Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, friends and accomplices of Harry Potter in the defeat of Voldemort, had exchanged wedding vows in a ceremony celebrated a week earlier than it had leaked. The ingenious move was nothing short of what you would expect from high-achiever Granger and Weasley, who previous to leaving the Ministry last year had a successful spell as a Strategist Auror, and so this momentous event went unnoticed by the press.
The couple kept a low-key profile after returning from their honeymoon—until yesterday, when Granger sparked controversy once again. The 21-year-old, member of the Dept. for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, was attending the passing of her contentious bill renaming and repurposing the “Office for the Relocation of House Elves” to the “Office for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare”, when she told the Minister’s Junior Assistant that she still went by Granger, not Weasley, if he could kindly correct it on the records. Many of the people present at the time stared at her in frank disbelief. Has Granger and Weasley’s marriage gone to the dogs already? Why does she not want to be associated with that name?
The pair, notorious for avoiding the press as much as their associates, Potter and Ginevra Weasley, was approached during a romantic stroll through Hogsmeade that same evening, surely celebrating Granger’s triumph. When asked about the curious decision and whether it meant his wife was not as committed as he was to their recent union, Weasley said, ‘She kept her name because she did, grow the b*** f*** up.’ He then apologised to his wife as they continued walking, but reporters were still presented with a rude hand gesture behind Granger’s back.
Upon closing this number, we received a statement issued by Granger herself to clear up any misunderstandings. The unadulterated letter is disclosed to our readers, with Granger’s permission, below:
‘After much consideration as to why I should explain something that pertains to my private life, I have decided to do so nonetheless in the hope that it would prevent certain individuals from accosting myself and my husband as we move about our daily life.
I am aware that the wizarding community is one with long-withstanding traditions. Some of them are, in my opinion, harmful traditions that we should aim to change in order to build a more equal society for all magical beings. Other customs pose less relevance, and it should make no difference whether we follow them or not—however, difference they make, for when you decide not to adopt them, you find yourself and your loved ones subject of slandering.
My decision not to change my last name to that of my husband’s has nothing to do with any of the reasons assigned to it. I feel nothing but love, respect, and gratitude towards the family who has always welcomed me into their house and that I am now an official member of. My feelings towards my husband are for him alone to know, although I believe having chosen him to bond my life with should speak volumes about their nature.
I have kept the name “Granger” because that has always been my name, and I am mine before anyone else’s. I have kept the name “Granger” because it is part of my identity, and I do not believe giving up part of one’s self is a requisite for getting married. I have kept the name “Granger” because I can be Hermione Weasley… while still being Hermione Granger.
That said, I have no qualms about being referred to as “Hermione Weasley” in other circles of my life, and this bears no negative judgement on my part towards women who choose to take their partner’s name.
The people who know me and, most importantly, my husband—the only person besides myself whose opinion on the matter counts—understand this decision. I honestly do not care much for the sentiments of the rest of the wizarding community on my life choices and believe they ought to preoccupy themselves with things of actual relevance.
Best regards, Hermione Granger Weasley’
We can conclude from this that Granger and Weasley’s relationship is stronger than ever, and here at the Daily Prophet, we once again wish them happiness in this new stage of their lives.
[Pictured above: A leaked picture of the couple at their wedding.]
a-dailyprophet
Thanks to otterandterrier for the article!
hey if ur gonna experiment with drugs
because there are a lot of idiots in my school who have no idea what they’re doing
• do a lot of research on the drug you’re gonna do • stay the FUCK away from meth and heroin, seriously • if it’s a pill, look up the identification number on it to make sure it’s the drug you think it is • do not mix hard drugs with alcohol, especially benzodiazepines (ie xanax, klonapin, valium, ativan) • don’t do it for the first time alone • if the paramedics end up getting involved, don’t lie to them, you won’t be arrested they are there to help keep you safe and alive • don’t take any drug you aren’t completely sure about taking • again, stay the fuck away from meth and heroin. •if you are injecting something, use new, sterile needles and alcohol wipes.
STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM METH AND HEROIN
Personally, I’m straight edge but I understand the want and need to experiment. Reblog to, quite literally save a life.
The truth comes out. Nat Wolff asks, does Cara delevingne have a filter? Find out during this Q&A sesh!
So we’re always going on about how badass it is that Neville pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat, but I just read the part where Ron saves Harry from the frozen lake, and Ron is the one who pulls the sword out of the water. This may seem like an obvious fact like, So what if he did? But remember that being able to retrieve the Sword of Gryffindor is a very prestigious privilege. Not just anyone could have pulled it out of the lake.
ONLY A TRUE GRYFFINDOR
IT WASN’T JUST HARRY AND NEVILLE WHO COULD RETRIEVE THE SWORD OF GRYFFINDOR RON COULD TOO
chandrilas-deactivated20180714
And under here, Hedwig”—Harry pulled open a door under the stairs—“is where I used to sleep; You never knew me then— Blimey, it’s small, I’d forgotten… .” Harry looked around at the stacked shoes and umbrellas, remembering how he used to wake every morning looking up at the underside of the staircase, which was more often than not adorned with a spider or two. Those had been the days before he had known anything about his true identity; before he had found out how his parents had died or why such strange things often happened around him. But Harry could still remember the dreams that had dogged him, even in those days: confused dreams involving flashes of green light and once—Uncle Vernon had nearly crashed the car when Harry had recounted it—a flying motorbike..