Source 

These dudes are fucking legit.  They don’t just show up one day in court, either, they actually make friends with the kids and let them know they have a support system and that there are people in the world who care about them and will always have their back.  And less important, but also cool, is that the few times a couple of them have come into my cafe, they’ve been super friendly and polite and when I told one of the guys that I noticed his Bikers Against Child Abuse patch and wanted him to know how awesome I thought he was because of it, he got kind of shy and blushed and said, “The kids are the awesome ones, we just let them know they’re allowed to be brave.”

The source is long, but so, so good. These men and women are available in 36 states, 24 hours a day to stand guard at home, in court, at school, even if the child has a nightmare. Many of them are survivors of childhood abuse as well, and know what it’s like to feel scared and alone.

Actual tears.. hnngh

Show me more of people like this, world. I give up on humans too easily.

where do i sign up for this,i want to be in this gang

This is fucking amazing. It may be out of character for me to say this but rock on

Bikers Against Child Abuse was founded in 1995 by a Native American child psychologist whose ride name is Chief, when he came across a young boy who had been subjected to extreme abuse and was too afraid to leave his house. He called the boy to reach out to him, but the only thing that seemed to interest the child was Chief’s bike. Soon, some 20 bikers went to the boy’s neighborhood and were able to draw him out of his house for the first time in weeks.

Chief’s thesis was that a child who has been abused by an adult can benefit psychologically from the presence of even more intimidating adults that they know are on their side. “When we tell a child they don’t have to be afraid, they believe us,” Arizona biker Pipes told azcentral.com. “When we tell them we will be there for them, they believe us.” ( Article)

More about BACA, from their site

My parents are a part of this organization and they are metal af

They go on runs to protect the child if they feel even the slightest threatened no matter where. If the child needs them to go on vacation with them, they do. Bikers come from across the nation to watch over and take shifts for these kids. And the best part is once you’re adopted into this family as a BACA kid, you’re always one. Even when you’re 40 and the perp gets released from jail, they’ll come meet with you and find your best options for avoiding the person and maintaining the life you’ve built for yourself. Once a BACA child, always a BACA child. In Florida, there’s 100% rate for identifying the perp based on the child’s testimony. Why? Because BACA stands with the child and supports the child so they feel comfortable enough to point out their attacker.

What’s better than a badass biker gang being on your side???

NATIVE AMERICAN CHILD PSYCHOLOGIST WHO IS A BIKER AND NAMED HIMSELF CHIEF HELL YES I’M HERE FOR THAT AND BIKERS BEING BAD ASS TO PROTECT KIDS. HELL YEAH.

it’s back! I will always reblog BACA

Damn good people.

I know they wouldn’t consider themselves such, but these people are freaking heroes and the world is a better place because of them. 

Hey folks, it talks about this in the article but its not mentioned in this post, BACA is a 501 © (3) charity that depends in part on donations to help pay for stuff like gas for their bikes. If you want to help, consider donating. 

@copperbadge You like posting about heroes, Sam. Seems like this would be up your alley.

I love these folks! I’ve reblogged them before but it’s wonderful to see the donation information has been added. 

Always reblog. Keep doing what you’re doing y'all.

Guys? This post changed my life. I saw this post. Forever ago. And thought it was only in america… and wished desperately that they could help me. But then I saw it again, during a bad episode, and checked their site. They aren’t just in the USA

They’re in Canada as well and probably other countries. I met and talked with a native guy who runs the place near me. His name is Shaman. I got in, and I’m considered a BACA child now. Despite being 17, turning 18 when I talked to them. They spent time with me when my abuser was over, they gave me therapy resources. They give you something called a ‘level 1′ where they go to your house with as many bikers as they can, i shit you not a solid 20-40 bikers came from even out of province, and met me. I got to choose my biker name and I got a vest with patches on it and my name on it. They all hugged a Teddybear before giving it to me, and told me if I ever felt the BACA bear was running out of love, to give them a call and they’d refill it for me, and then I got a ride on one of their bikes. Just a day or so ago I went to an annual party with them and they we ate food one of them cooked and had a lot of laughs. 

I’ve never felt as loved as I did being a part of the BACA family. They also gave me dog tags with the names, and phone numbers of my 2 workers.  So I can call them whenever I feel scared. 

BACA is an absolutely wonderful group that will do everything in it’s power to help any child whos been abused. 

And it doesn’t end when you’re 18 either. As long as you get in contact/get your level 1 before you’re 18? you’re ALWAYS a BACA kid. I’m 18 now and they still invite me to parties, ask me if I’m okay, and are there for me. They’re still trying to find me resources for therapy. 

BACA has changed my fucking life. 

I hope you all can read this, and reblog it knowing from someone who fucking been with them, that they are absolutely amazing. 

If I ever don’t reblog this, it’s because I am physically being restrained against my will.

Prompt I will never do anything with: instead of being given to the Dursleys, Harry Potter is put up for adoption and is adopted by the Addams Family

Gomez, being forcibly removed from the stands of a Hogwarts quidditch match for the third time: MY BOY! MY BOY’S UP THERE! HE’S SEEKER!

McGonagall, sweating: Mr. Addams, how do you keep sneaking onto grounds

As I said to @door :

Wednesday is woefully jealous of how dramatic Harry's origin is and fiercely protective of him, only SHE is allowed to torture him

Harry's hair would be more slicked back and shinier than Draco could ever hope to achieve Harry still gets sorted into Gryffindor Morticia says he gets that from Gomez' side of the family

Meanwhile Wednesday gets into Hogwarts as well,

*During House assigning*

Professor McGonnagal: Wednesday Addams.

Wednesday *begins to get up*

Sorting hat: Yeah no, no, sit back down kid. You’re Slytheren. I have never been more sure of anything in my existence.

*Later at Slytheren dorm*

Draco: Well look, if it isn’t Potter’s little Mudblood sister, listen up you little...

Wednesday: *Shoots Malfoy a glare which instantly silences him.* You will listen to me and listen carefully. I do not like repeating myself. Harry is off limits. In fact, everyone in Gryffondor is off limits, that goes for the rest of you. If you cause ANY trouble for my adopted brother, you will answer directly to me. Is this understood?

Draco:...Yes mum.

*Later in potions class*

Snape: Potter, you were two seconds late, twenty points from Gryffondor.

Wednesday: *Picks up beaker and smashes it on the floor.* Professor Snape. I have wilfully destroyed school property. I believe that is a twenty point deduction from Slytheren house.

Snape: Did you? Well I didn’t see it so.

Wednesday: *Gets up, walks to the front of the class, looking Snape in the eye the entire time, smashes another beaker on the ground right in front of him.* Twenty. Points. From Slytheren.

Snape:..... Alright then twenty points from Slytheren.

Wednesday: *Returns to seat, still glaring at Snape*

Snape: Now before we get on with classes I have the results of last weeks pop quiz, fairly expected stuff, Mr. Weasley you did adequate, but your penmanship was atrocious which is...

Wednesday *Grabs another beaker and holds it up with a look on her face that says ‘I can keep this up as long as you can old man’*

Snape:....Something you should work on in the future.

*Later*

Draco: Can’t you just expel her professor?

Snape: Well I could in theory, but considering her muggle father keeps somehow sneaking in here I think whether she has permission to be here or not is rather Academic. Besides, I’m not crossing her after what she did to Umbridge.

Draco: *Shudders* Don’t remind me.

This is one of those posts I'm going to watch for hopefully in future to see what awesome new additions it gets. Go on Tumblr, be brilliant!

please keep me informed as well

I just imagined the third book when they learn Sirius Black is trying to kill Harry, and is his godfather.

Gomez: well that makes him family, we must invite him over.

Harry: but father, everyone says he's trying to kill me.

Gomez: oh, of course, how thoughtless of me. Lurch, put away the swords for guests and sharpen up the good swords we use for special occasions! A relative visiting is one thing, but a murderous relative needs to be celebrated.

Harry: thank you, father.

XD and as soon as they find sirius is innocent hed be welcomed into the family with open arms.

Can you imagine the Addams during the fight at the ministry of magic or at hogwarts?

Gomez with a sword

Mortitia with man eating plants

Pugsley with explosives

Wednesday just keeps pulling bigger and bigger weapons out of those tiny pockets on her dress. She has a wand but never uses it!

A death eater turns a corner and she's inexplicably there with a cannon!

Okay but the Addams Family going off on Dumbledore for all the BS he put Harry through without warning him like he could have. (Because fuck that shit. Destiny/fate my ass.)

Just...just all of this... Mortisha: So how was your first year of schooling children? Wensday: *pouting* Harry got to see a 3 headed dog and play with it. Harry: Only a little! Gomez: Oh how fun! Maybe we should look into getting one or 2!

All the yes

How am I only just finding this, this is brilliant

When they find out Lupin was fired for being a werewolf they offer him a place to stay. Granmama brews his wolfbane potion every month, better than Snape!

And they start calling him "cousin Remus" before the end of the second week.

Remus could homeschool Pubert for his early years. Gomez and Morticia would be so relieved to have them away from those awful influences at public school.

Knights slaying helpless dragons, pushing little old ladies into ovens. At least one of their children won’t be traumatized by such things.

OMG, Wednesday meeting Luna Lovegood!

They would surely end up best friends and go hunting nargles and flying on the thestrals together.

Can you imagine Wednesday’s reaction to Harry speaking Parsletongue for the first time?

Harry: *Speaks Parseltongue to snake telling it not to attack*

Wednesday, in crowd being physically held back as to not stab Malfoy: “Hmm, this is a new experience”

Luna, slowly letting go of Wednesday who puts her knife away: “what is?”

Wednesday: “Feeling jealous of others”

I'm sure she'd already have a little jealousy because of his tragic back story and scar.

I never knew I needed this

A collection of random scenes that popped into my head:

1st book: Mcgonagall looking between the unconscious troll and Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “You took on a fully grown troll, by yourselves?”

*Wednesday inexplicably appears by her side* “Who hasn’t?”

2nd book: Dobby: A great evil is coming to Hogwarts.

Harry: *nodding* Yes, my sister and I will be back at school soon.

3rd book: Porfessor Trelawney: My dear boy, you have The Grim!

Wednesday: *looking at him jealously* You have all the luck.

soft asks to get to know people

So I was rereading Harry Potter, when I came across this and thought- what if instead of Cedric Diggory, Cassius Warrington had been chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?

Imagine Dumbledore calling out the name of the Hogwarts champion and it isn’t a Gryffindor, or a Ravenclaw, or even a Hufflepuff, but it’s a Slytherin. A student from a House most people hate.

Imagine Cassius Warrington getting up, and three out of four Houses are booing at him and shouting things like “NO!” or, “We can’t have a Slytherin champion!” or demanding a retry. But he’s a Slytherin- he’s been dealing with this shit since he got sorted, so he keeps his head high and joins the other champions.

Imagine Harry trying to catch Warrington alone because he doesn’t really want to associate with Slytherins (plus Malfoy has this tendency of being around the guy ALL THE TIME since he got chosen), but at the same time he’s also fair enough not to want him to walk into the first task unprepared.

Imagine Warrington walking over to Harry a few months later, and Ron and Hermione both jump into a protective stance, wands out, but instead of attacking Harry he just tells him to stick the egg underwater. (Because Slytherins don’t forget those who helped them out).

Imagine Warrington and Harry helping each other out in the labyrinth.

Imagine Harry being devastated when Peter kills Warrington- because Voldemort doesn’t care what house they’re form, a spare is a spare.

Imagine the uproar that causes among the Slytherins, because some of their parents really are Death Eaters and they know what really happened.

Imagine Slytherins fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts and shouting “This is for Cassius!”

Imagine Harry returning with Warrington’s body, and the crowd realizes what’s happened, but Warrington’s parents don’t show up. There’s no one to mourn him, to cradle him in their arms and cry for their son. The Slytherins know why. His parents were Death Eaters, too.

Imagine Slytherins reaching out, asking for help from classmates from other houses. They’re terrified, truly terrified because the being their parents claimed would never hurt them because they’re pureblood, they realize that he does not care.

Imagine Slytherins in the 5th book sneaking off to join Dumbledore’s Army, to learn more about who Voldemort is without their parents acting as a filter. 

Imagine the shock when they’re told what he’s really done.

Imagine that a few talented Slytherins went with Harry and the others into the Ministry of Magic. The others are a bit wary but they prove themselves as friends.

Imagine them being confronted by Lucius Malfoy in the the Hall of Prophecy, and when the Death Eaters descend, they know that any one of them could be their parents.

Imagine the shocked gasp of a Death Eater as they realize their own child, a pureblood, is standing defiantly with Harry Potter. They choke back a cry. They can’t let their child know that they were about to duel to the death.

Imagine a DA Slytherin facing off against their own Death Eater parent. That they make the decision to let their child defeat them, because in that moment, they realize that they love their child more than they fear Voldemort. They go down, mask unveiled, and the Slytherin kid has to be dragged from the fight before he gets killed.

Imagine Book 6 Slytherins getting more friendly and cooperative with the other houses. Two years of Voldemort terrorizing the muggle and Wizarding world, two years where their parents just up and leave some days, cringing from the pain in their arm, two years after the death of the first Slytherin pureblood, Cassius Warrington, killed by Voldemort’s right-hand man, and they’re slowly hitting the breaking point.

Imagine Slytherin kids keeping tabs on their parents, sending the information to Harry, who shares it with the Order of the Phoenix, and hoping that their parents won’t be killed.

Imagine Book 7 Slytherins low-key rebelling against the new oppressive Hogwarts staff.

Imagine the final siege on Hogwarts, where Slytherins stand proudly by their fellow houses, knowing full-well they could be fighting their own parents. Some Slytherins know their parents were in the fighting. They hope to find them first and sneak them away. Their fellow students understand. Professor McGonagall allows 7th Year Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, to duel a death eater in her stead; her father is under that veil. She knows it.

Imagine the aftermath of the battle; every house suffered loses. Slytherin students crying over the deaths of friends they made in every house.

Imagine a Cassius Warrington statue made in his honor, the first Slytherin to fight and die nobly with Harry Potter, the boy who lived, in the face of ultimate evil. He was a true Slytherin, and it’s in his name that Slytherin children and their families have cut all ties with the Death Eaters, denounced Voldemort, and are finally living in peace.

#i do enjoy cedric #but this would have been immensely wonderful in many ways (via batty4u)

Imagine a story in which Harry wasn’t in love with his fellow champion’s girlfriend, but after her boyfriend’s death just hugs her so long, so hard, and says “he wanted to win for you. You should know–you should know he won, he did it for you” and gives her the best hug and shoulder he knows how to be because her parents aren’t there either and she must know why.

Imagine Harry staring over her head at everyone else until Hermione steps up–it doesn’t take long, but it takes long enough that when she does all eyes are on her as a source of motion–and says “we’re never going to forget this. They’re not going to get away with it” and the girlfriend just latches onto Hermione and everyone is in wands-out stance convinced she’s about to attack the shit out of Hermione, and then the girlfriend stares into her eyes and says “do you promise me” and Hermione just gives her this super-firm nod and says “I promise” and the girlfriend just collapses on her, sobbing. 

Imagine Dumbledore trying to give some flowery speech about inter-wizard solidarity while glossing over why, because Slytherins have always been a touchy subject, and Ron gets to his feet and says “Professor, I need to say something important” and Dumbledore is so surprised he just cedes the floor, and Ron–after that awkward moment when he realizes everyone is staring at him–says he didn’t know Warrington particularly, but he knows how Warrington and Harry played. That each was always cheering on the other. Both wanted to win, but neither was willing to undercut the other by underhanded means. He finishes up saying “I think–I think it’s important everyone should know he died being what a champion should be. Because he could have abandoned Harry and instead he stood up with him to play the game the honest way, and he died for it. And–and Slytherin House should be proud, and we should all be proud, because Warrington was a good bloke.” He sits back down all flustered because he didn’t actually stand up meaning to make a speech. And then Pansy Parkinson stands up before Dumbledore can take back control of the room and says “I want to tell Weasley thank you.” And all of Slytherin House raises a glass–to Warrington, to Weasley, to Potter–and the other houses follow suit. Many years later, Wizarding scholars will say that was the moment Voldemort truly lost.

Imagine later that summer. Harry gets several owls on his birthday, all unsigned. The birds are plump and pretentious and well-cared-for. He will never know which Slytherins sent him their treasures: parchments with hexes developed by the Death Eaters; a strange locket that will only open if he whispers a special spell but that always shows him the picture he most needs to see; a page torn from a potions book that, brewed properly, will allow him extra time to summon a Patronus by giving him a few crucial seconds not just of happiness but of bliss. It doesn’t matter. Harry knows these gifts not as birthday gifts but for what they really are, and he treasures the locket and copies out the potion to send to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, and when first summoned by the Order of the Phoenix he marches straight up to Dumbledore with the hexes and says “I can’t tell you where I got these, Professor. But they’re in use by the Death Eaters and I think you should have them.” Months later, Sirius will recognize the spell Bellatrix shoots at him, and will dive out of the way just in the nick of time.

The final battle. Everyone is there. Sirius somehow ends up herding a group of Slytherins. They all stare at him and he at them, across a centuries-old divide Voldemort has only succeeded in deepening. Then he remembers the hexes. Harry’s locket, now tucked under Sirius’ shirt because Harry’s friends are with him in this battle but most of Sirius’ are dead. The moment that happiness potion saved Remus’ life, his very soul. Snape’s final words to Harry, finally seen not as mockery but real true advice. What Harry said Voldemort said–his first words in his new form. They are kids, and they are sharing the same kind of hurt he once wouldn’t admit to, watching his mother burn his name off the family tree. “When we go in there, it’s going to be hell,” he tells the Slytherins. “Some of you are probably going to die. I might go down too, and if I do I want your best curser in the front. But I want you all to remember one thing. There are no spares.”  Later retellings of the battle never fail to mention the moment a group of angry, screaming teens burst into the Great Hall, wearing their green and silver as the badge of honor it should be, shouting NO SPARES, NO SPARES at the tops of their voices in between hexes and curses and the occasional physical punch. When Hermione is present, she always interrupts the storyteller to be sure everyone knows about the moment Blaise Zabini shoved her to the floor, dropped on top of her, fired off three curses in rapid succession and said “stay alive, Granger, we need you” before jumping back to his feet and vanishing into the melee–how, for all anyone knows, those may have been his last words, and she will not let his sacrifice go unnoted. 

The aftermath. Malfoy holds out a hand to Sirius, badly injured on the floor. Sirius asks how Malfoy is willing to trust him. Malfoy nods at his chest. “You’ve got my godfather’s locket,” he says, and when Sirius and Harry finally speak after the battle Harry gives his full agreement to the very first thing out of  Sirius’ mouth. They give the locket to Malfoy. Sirius grits his teeth and closes his eyes and opens them and says “He probably saved my life, giving Harry that.” He doesn’t say thank you. Malfoy hears it anyway.

The school reopens under a single banner: the four Houses united. The House rivalry is reduced to just that–a competition in fun–with those deep divides slowly healing to scars, and eventually away to nothing at all.

Imagine it.

When we stand, we stand united as one

And then there would be no hope for any uprising of evil, no users of the dark arts would dare to attack. There would be no neglected Slytherins turning to a darker cause. The unity Cassius Warrington’s death caused would come to save the world, time and time again, as would-be-Voldemorts find no followers. No children will ever have to fight their parents, or family. There would always be peace. 

oh christ somebody added to it and now i’m a soggy emotional wreck

I’m crying because this is what slytherins should have been and truly are

Honestly, this might be better than the actual books

My heart

Superpowers!

This is a post I made after observing and thinking about the people around me (and where most of my posts come from)

So the people around me (family and friends) I constantly interact with, consists of...

4 Slytherins

3 Gryffindors

2 Ravenclaws

1 Hufflepuff (meee~!)

So anyways, I’ve noticed that each of us have some type of core ability (I call them realistic super powers!) and it’s interesting how consistent they are...

My Slytherins all have the ability to read extremely fast. But not only that, they are all able to process information really quickly, to the point it’s as if they all knew the material/information beforehand. They are also able to grasp concepts better than individual facts. They’re able to pick up on situations the second fastest through observation and act, not the fastest, but the smartest way.

My Gryffindors are definitely the braver ones. And I’m not talking about being able to face ghouls, ghosts, and demons (fun fact, they’re actually the second-most terrified of horror stuff). But they are able to talk to people without feeling anxious and nervous AT ALL. Also, no matter where they go, their charisma is so powerful, they’re able to take control on situations (no matter what they are) and persuade people easily.

My Ravenclaws are also very smart. But different from my Slytherins. They have the ability to memorize and remember small details and facts. So even if they don’t understand the concept, they remember individual facts and trivia. Not only are they able to memorize them quickly, they are also able to remember and recall extremely fast. (But my Ravenclaws are the biggest scaredy cats ever...theyre all scared of the dark and unknown...oh...that’s interesting...) When they pick up on situations, they also don’t act the fastest, but they do pick up, remember, and memorize every little details, conversation and what was said. Also great at finding things.

So I’m the only Hufflepuff and it was hard thinking about my own realistic super power...so I had to ask my friends and family (honestly they’re so sweet) and this is basically what they said...

- I have a super sense of smell and hearing that actually scares some of them.

- My instincts and gut feelings are terrifyingly accurate when it comes to people. (But I am gullible and apparently naive - haha...basically I got scammed recently...) - aka I’m not afraid of the dark unless there’s something there to be afraid about

- No matter where I go, I have the ability to make connections and friends (it was a running joke that even in dangerous settings I’d make friends)

- I am really good at finding lost things (even by accident) - isn’t this a Hufflepuff thing though?

- Oh and I’m apparently pretty good at being a mood maker even when the atmosphere gets heavy...so...yeah haha...(idk how they came to this conclusion...)

Of course everybody has different varieties of these super powers and at different levels among them too. They also have weaknesses and kryptonites (hm...next post?) like fears and things like that.

Thanks for reading this really long post and reading all the way to the end! 🥰☺️

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human? Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat. Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.

Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.

Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).

Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.

Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.

And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.

Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.

-

Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.

Scabbers had not become a teacup.

Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.

It was moving.

Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.

Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.

He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”

“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”

It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.

Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.

“Um, Professor?”

Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”

“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”

“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.

Nothing happened.

Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.

“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.

As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.

She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”

And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.

-

Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.

Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.

Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.

The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.

-

Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.

He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.

From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.

-

Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.

“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.

-

Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.

-

Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.

Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.

Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.

And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”

In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”

She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.

“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”

-

The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.

Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.

Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)

And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.

A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced