“A Message From The Clergy: Earth hammering out the ritual from last night in St Louis.”

On one hand, I no longer look like a plague victim.
On the other hand, it’s 70 degrees and g i r g e o u s outside, and I’m stuck /inside/.

me: -logs on in the morning to find people commenting on how my pony looks great and is so much improved-

me: -chokes up-

my heart: -grows three sizes-

coworker: wow that is the biggest smile I have ever seen on your face that’s creepy


J A M E S ( JAYMZ ) Hebrew name meaning “he grasps the heel.” There’s a grave at Godric’s Hollow with your name on it, but it’s not you who’s buried underground. There are Quidditch plaques displayed at Hogwarts with your name on it, but you did not earn them. You never even played on the pitch. The first James Potter was your father’s father and you have never meant him, but you know that he was brave. You know that he faced death without a wand in hand, that he protected his family until his last breath. In that, you and James Potter are the same for you hope if you were facing a similar situation, that you would do the same. Yet you have never felt that you needed to grasp onto the heel of the first James Potter. You did not spend your time chasing after a ghost. Your grandfather is a model, but you do not feel compelled to shape yourself in his image. You, like that James before you, had a hankering for mischief in your youth, spurred by curiosity rather than a need to break the rules. You expanded upon the legacy that he left in the Marauders’ Map, making the creation your own. Your identity is your own, your individuality important to who you are. You are endlessly creating yourself, and you may never be a hero and you hope to never have to be a martyr. You don’t begrudge your name; you embrace it, grow into it. It’s a part of you, a piece of your puzzle, and you would be incomplete without it and all the baggage that comes with it. 

S I R I U S ( SEER-ee-əs ) Greek word meaning “burning” and the name of the brightest star in the constellation Canis Major. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter. Never saw one without the other, and in your name, they still have yet to be separated even beyond death. You are as acquainted with your middle name as you are your first in your younger years, always causing trouble in your experiments and adventures meant that you were always Middle Named. You see little similarity between you and a man who never got to enjoy his freedom. You are instead the brightest star in the night’s sky, a lantern that guides  a night wanderer who exudes nothing but light. Your burning is not external, not a flame that turns anything you touch to ash, but instead blazes quietly inside of you, expelled through your fingertips, your touch, and the comfort that you extend to others. Your light is in the knobs of your spine, in the foundation of who you are, in the steady support that you wish to be. Your flame is inexhaustible and the spark settles deep in your chest, in your heart where shadows also loom. When the darkness finds you, and your shoulders feel heavy, you need only remember that you are luminous and that you will always find your way back home. 

P O T T E R ( PAW-ter ) English surname meaning “one who makes earthen vessels.” You are human, created from this earth and made of brittle bone and kept together by thin layers of skin. It’s the muscle that makes you strong, that hardens with every weight that you lift, and you come from a long line of people who have made their mark on this earth with loud voices, leaving behind deep footprints. Once a pureblood family before the birth of your father, the first Harry Potter was outspoken about helping Muggles rather than persecuting them and set the standard of deviating from tradition. His son, Fleamont, fell into wealth with the creation of a hair potion. His son, your grandfather and namesake, lives on as a saint who’s sacrifice is remembered. Your father was the Boy-Who-Lived, he saved the world at only seventeen, and even as an adult he continued a path where he fought  for change. With little in the way of ambition and an exceeding amount of curiosity, you are guided by a desire to understand the world. In an era of peace, you hope a time does not come where you have to fight for the world and while there is still a vast need for improvement in the way the world operates, you know that you are not the one to advocate for it. You leave those fights to your siblings, whom you are immensely proud of. But being a Potter is in your blood, in your unruly hair and horrendous eyesight. To be a Potter is to make a difference – and you do in your own gentle, soft way. When you die, your name may not be immortalized in history. To know you is to remember a warm glow, a listening ear, a supporting shoulder, and a reaching hand. You are not a hero; you are human. You have a name and a life that is your own, a path that you have chosen. You are alive with a beating, sentimental heart and a wandering, overactive mind. You may be a mess, but like the Potters before you, you never stop trying and what you have to offer what you have to give this world is more than enough.