“Blaise,” Draco fumed, storming into the living room, “what happened to the chest of drawers in my room?”
Blaise looked up from the paper he was reading and grinned at Draco.
“Do you like the new one? You’ve been whining about it so much, I thought I’d just replace that awful old-timer.”
“What did you do with that old-timer?”
“I sold it,” Blaise shrugged.
“You sold it,” Draco repeated flatly.
“Who did you sell it to?” Draco asked frantically.
“No idea,” Blaise said. “I didn’t get a name. Two people came by to pick it up. I think they were Muggles.”
Draco felt like he was about to faint.
“Did you take everything out beforehand?”
“Of course! What do you take me for?”
“Everything?” Draco insisted.
Blaise raised an eyebrow at Draco’s tone and studied him.
Draco took a step closer and narrowed his eyes.
“Even what was under the secret false bottom in the second drawer, nobody but me knows about?”
Blaise paled and his mouth opened.
“Oh,” he simply said.
“Yes, oh,” Draco growled. “Great, now I have to hunt it down. You’re a lousy flatmate.”
“Hey, I just wanted to do you a favour,” Blaise said defensively.
“You better hope they haven’t found what’s inside it, or I’m going to kill you.”
Doing the locator spell was easy enough. Draco had feared it wouldn’t work, but it seemed there were no wards guarding the flat the chest of drawers had ended up in. Draco apparated to the flat, his heart hammering as he knocked.
When the door opened, Draco was sure he had to be dreaming. Of all the people in the world. Of course. Of course.
“Malfoy?” Potter seemed stunned. He was holding a toothbrush and was only dressed in a green t-shirt and pants. “How did you find me?”
Draco shook his head, willing his mind to work properly again.
“You have something of mine,” he said curtly.
“And what might that be?” Potter responded, a grin beginning to form on his lips. It took Draco off guard for a moment.
“Can I just come in and check something?”
Potter stepped aside and gestured for Draco to come in. Draco wasted no time and quickly found the chest of drawers in the corner of Potter’s bedroom. He opened the second drawer and took out the little book he had been so desperate to get back.
“What’s that?” Potter asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“Nothing of your concern. It shouldn’t have been in there,” Draco huffed.
“Hmmm,” Potter hummed. “You know, I never would have thought you kept a diary.”
Draco blushed, quickly hiding his hands behind his back.
“It’s not a diary,” he said lamely.
Potter nodded, but he had a mischievous smile on his face.
“You want a drink?” he asked, turning around and heading back into the living room. Draco blinked and tried to find his voice again.
“Um, no thank you. You were obviously getting ready for bed. I won’t disturb you any longer,” he said hastily.
“You sure? It might be a great opportunity,” Potter grinned. Draco gave him a quizzical look.
“I don’t know,” Potter shrugged, “after two Firewhiskeys you might get the chance to run your hands through my incredibly infuriating, magnificent head of hair.” Potter tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t suppress a snicker. “I might even let you touch my strong and marvellous jawline.”
Never had Draco wished more the ground would open and swallow him up.
“You read it,” he said through gritted teeth. “You had no right.”
“True,” Potter replied, nonchalant. “I’d let you read mine in return, but I don’t keep a diary.” He stepped closer to Draco, studying his face intently.
“You look rather cute when you’re flushed.”
Draco made a sound that was something between a weird gurgle and a high-pitched squeak. Whatever it was, it was highly embarrassing.
Potter chuckled, coming to a halt right in front of Draco.
“I mean, I could just show you what kind of fantasies I’d be writing in that diary,” he said in a low whisper.
Draco gulped, not quite grasping what Potter was saying.
“Like what?” he breathed.
“Hmmm.” Potter’s eyes flickered down to Draco’s lips. “Like how I want to grab you right now and kiss you until you can’t breathe.”
Draco’s mouth opened involuntarily. Breathing was already hard with Potter standing so close to him.
“And then,” Potter continued, deliberately breathing on Draco’s lips, “I’d want your hands on the most delicious and perfect arse you have ever seen in your life.”
Draco groaned loudly. This was just too much. But then again, Potter really seemed to be teasing him in a rather flirtatious way. Trying to conceal his nervousness, he raised his chin and fixed Potter with a glare.
“These better not just be empty promises,” Draco said haughtily.
“Oh, they’re not,” Potter smirked, his eyes gleaming as he started pouring their drinks.
more HP reread things: the shit you all knew was coming
the very first instance of Harry looking over at the Slytherin table to have a shufty of Draco Malfoy happens after the sorting, i.e. their VERY FIRST night of school. I cannot BELIEVE this. Harry looks over at the Bloody Baron and is like, “he’s sitting next to Malfoy! and Malfoy’s not happy about it! hahaha!!!” that’s the beginning of a puberty-long rabid obsession right there and I’m getting exceedingly misty.
it may also interest some of you to know that Harry then goes upstairs to Gryffindor Tower, goes to bed AND PROMPTLY STARTS DREAMING ABOUT MALFOY. they’ve only officially known each other for like four hours and Harry’s already having uncomfortable dreams about getting his head stuck in something and Malfoy laughing at him. this is day fucking one.
the first words out of Harry’s mouth when it’s announced that Gryffindor and Slytherin have flying lessons together are “typical. just what I always wanted. to make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.” WHY is that your FIRST THOUGHT when you find out you’re gonna be FLYING A BROOMSTICK? I’ll give you one clue.
“Harry hadn’t had a single letter since Hagrid’s note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course.” of course? of course??? it’s normal that this 11-year-old boy has nothing better to do at breakfast than stare across the great hall at someone he hates??? “Draco, can you pass the marmalade?” “silence, Goyle, Potter is cracking his boiled egg!”
Harry goes to meet Draco for a midnight wizard’s duel wearing his pyjamas and a dressing gown. Draco grasses Harry up rather than actually going, but can we all please take a moment to picture his face if he’d been there to witness Harry Potter turning up to this epic death match in tartan terrycloth? thanks for your time.
No surprise, your and Lily’s son turned out to be the best kid in the world. Not exactly sure how much of a part I had to play in that, but I hope you’re happy and not too deeply regretting making me Harry’s godfather instead of Moony. I’d say I’ll try to keep him out of trouble more, except he does a good job of that himself. He’s a good kid, and a damn good Seeker, too. You’d be proud of Harry, if you were here, Merlin’s Beard you would be proud.
“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things– friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be careful!
While the act of committing a mass shooting may be the statement itself, there are several communicative elements used by a perpetrator to further their point. Apart from signature articles of clothing, like the trench coat, many others have taken a more personalized approach.
On May 6, 1993, after fatally stabbing his mother and slitting the throat of her cocker spaniel, 39-year-old Mark Richard Hilbun entered the Dana Point, California post office, where he was fired from back in December, wearing a T-shirt with the word “Psycho” printed across the front. He was infatuated with co-worker Kimberly Springer and while searching for her, he shot to death a mail carrier and wounded one other employee before fleeing the building. Hilbun injured several others until he was arrested two days later in a sports bar wearing a maroon and blue Hawaiian-style shirt.
As school shootings started happening more frequently, one of them became the inspiration of disaffected youth everywhere and the standard for future comparisons. For the attack on their Littleton, Colorado school, 18-year-old Eric Harris and 17-year-old Dylan Klebold each donned customized T-shirts. Before entering Columbine High School, Harris removed his black duster near the West Entrance, exposing a white tee with “Natural Selection” across the front in black letters. Klebold’s black T-shirt that said “Wrath” in bold red lettering remained concealed under his duster of the same color until he reached the library. Together, they murdered 12 students and one teacher before committing suicide on April 20, 1999.
Jumping forward seven years, in a proclaimed copycat incident, 18-year-old Alvaro Castillo shot to death his father before wounding two others at Orange High School in Hillsborough, North Carolina on August 30, 2006. He wore a white T-shirt with “Natural Selection” scribbled on the front in black marker and the back read “Remember Columbine” with the date and location of Eric and Dylan’s shooting, paired with a headband that said “Columbine” and “Shoot Me,” also written in marker. “Remember Columbine” was a phrase he repeated when he surrendered to the school resource officer and was placed in the patrol car.
A year later, the Social Darwinist message shared by Eric Harris manifested in the mind of an 18-year-old Jokela, Finland student, who used it to fuel his November 7th attack on humanity. Although it’s unclear whether Pekka Eric-Auvinen wore his customized black T-shirt, bearing “Humanity is Overrated” in white letters during the shooting at his school, it was featured in videos on his YouTube account, where he spoke of ridding the world of unfit humans. According to a section of the report highlighted by @radical-and-radiant, he also made another T-shirt that read “Natural Selector,” likely signifying his perceived role in the murder of seven classmates and a teacher, followed by his suicide.
Steven Kazmierczak’s T-shirt may not have been custom-made, but his choice to wear it on February 14, 2008 offered an irony that was certainly not lost on his humor. It was a black shirt with “Terrorist” printed in white, complemented by a red AK-47 graphic. The 27-year-old entered a lecture room in Cole Hall at Northern Illinois University armed without an AK-47, but he used a shotgun and Glock pistol to fire at students while on stage of the auditorium-style room before targeting others from the aisle, killing six people, including himself.
Perhaps, the clearest expression against the school institution was scrawled on the T-shirt worn by 18-year-old Georg R.: “Made in School.” Georg’s “Apocalypse Day” landed on September 17, 2009, and it involved throwing Molotov cocktails into two classrooms and attacking one student with an axe at the Gymnasium Carolinum, his school in the German city of Ansbach, Bavaria. He was incapacitated by three shots from responding police officers and taken into custody, eventually being placed in a psychiatric clinic.
On August 16, 2011, a tragedy was thwarted when 17-year-old Jared Cano was arrested for planning an attack at Freedom High School in Tampa, Florida the first day back. Investigators discovered a manifesto, detailing plans for a bombing, as well as the materials to carry it out. A homemade white T-shirt was also found with the quote, “Lessons Not Learned in Blood are Soon Forgotten” written in red marker and “War to All” on the collar. The quote is from a movie that came out that year titled Law Abiding Citizen, and it’s assumed he intended to wear the shirt during his rampage.
When 17-year-old TJ Lane entered Ohio’s Chardon High School, he left no doubt of his intention by sporting a gray long-sleeve pullover with “Killer” printed in bold black letters. He did indeed kill three students on February 27, 2012 before being arrested outside the school. Then, as a needless reminder, he exposed the same word written on his prison-issued white tee under his dress shirt at his sentencing hearing. With a smug expression plastered across his face, he made a vulgar statement to the victim’s families before he was sentenced to three life sentences without the possibility of parole.
“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.
“Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things ― friendship and bravery and ― oh Harry ― be careful!” ― Chapter 16: Through the Trapdoor, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.
You’re my honeybunch
You’re my sweetie pie 🍰
You’re my cuppycake 🎂 gumdrop 🍬snoogums, boogums 🍭 You’re the apple
of my eye 👁 And I love you so 💞 and I want you to know
that I’ll always be right here 😘 And I love to sing
because you ☝🏽 are so dear 💌
so like.. it’s been a little more than a year since i posted my very first hp fanart on this blog so i thought i’d celebrate it by making a collage of (almost) every harry i’ve drawn so far. which turned out to be a terrible idea seeing as i have no consistency in drawing him and put together like this all of these look like they were drawn by different people. haha. oh well. happy harryversary to me anyway
it’s so so funny when people continue to call harry straight after he said he doesn’t label his sexuality fgshcjsjfn y'all are so committed to defending his non-existent heterosexuality that y'all don’t even realize how homophobic it is lol
no but imagine if during one of Lupin’s classes, Draco’s boggart turns into an injuried Harry in front of the whole class?? and then draco flees in shame because how come draco malfoy’s biggest fear is his mortal enemy getting hurt? and then that’s what the whole school gossips about for the rest of the year and harry and draco can’t look each other in the eye whenever they cross paths in the corridor. But Harry, of course cause he’s a bloody gryffindor, gathers the courage to talk to him and one day, after checking on the map, go meet draco and at first is awkward because draco is embarrassed because he thinks harry is there to make fun of him and he wants nothing more but to throw himself from the astronomy tower, but then they start talking about quidditch and harry finds out that draco is really good at potions and draco is surprised to learn about harry’s muggle family and they stay there talking until sunrise. When they say goodbye, Harry raises his hand and Draco hesitates a bit because deja vu!! But then he takes it and they share a secret smile. And if they keep greeting each other whenever they meet and Harry keeps coming back at the early hours of the day, no one in the gryffindor’s common room says a word about it.
A/N: this is my
first descendants imagine, I hope you enjoy!!
No one dared enter the fish and chips shop after Uma
returned from her failed attempt at getting revenge on Mal. Only her and her crew went inside, hence causing
business to be at an all-time low. Not
that it was usually busy, but Uma needed the money to satisfy her mother, and
Harry’s petty theft was not enough to sustain them.
So when a girl in a torn up, bright red dress and white
leather jacket walked into the shop, it took everyone by surprise. All the pirates suspiciously eyed her as she
It wasn’t a mystery who this girl was: (Y/N) Heart, the
daughter of the Queen of Hearts, was notoriously different from her mother. While the Queen of Hearts was tempestuous,
loud, and violent, (Y/N) was a mysteriously quiet and patient girl.
“Well, well,” Harry was the first to approach her,
wearing his iconic smirk. He leaned against the wall and brushed a strand of
her hair out of her face with his hook. “What ‘cha doin’ here,
“Just getting some lunch, Hook,” she answered
simply as she grabbed his hook, moving it away from her face.
Harry chuckled to himself as he stepped out of her way,
mockingly bowing as she walked past him. She sat down at an empty table.
Uma stormed up to Harry and grabbed his collar to whisper in
“I don’t trust her,” she muttered.
“She’s just getting some food, Uma,” Harry quietly
countered her, keeping his eyes glued to (Y/N). "There’s nothing to be suspicious
“She used to be friendly with Mal,” Uma spat. "I don’t care if she’s just here for the
chips. Keep an eye on her.“ She slammed a tray with fish and chips on it
in Harry’s chest and pushed him towards (Y/N). He approached her table and carelessly tossed
the tray onto the table. When she looked
up at him, she watched as Harry turned around the chair across from her and sat
down in it.
"The waiters don’t usually keep the customers
company,” (Y/N) noted as she grabbed a chip.
Harry smirked. "Do
I look like a waiter to you, sweetheart?“
"You did bring me my food.”
They sat in silence as (Y/N) ate her fish and chips with
Harry occasionally stealing a chip.
When her meal was finished, (Y/N) nonchalantly tossed a
random amount of cash on the table and stood up. Harry immediately followed suit and shot up
from his seat.
“Thanks for the food,” she sarcastically thanked
with a tight smile, and she turned on her heel, exiting the shop. Harry turned and glanced at Uma, who signaled
for him to follow her. He groaned as he
went after her.
“You know, villains don’t normally use manners,”
he said once he caught up with her. He
attempted to wrap his arm around her shoulder, which she immediately shrugged
“I’m not a villain,” she responded. "My mother is.“
"But you’re her daughter,” Harry replied,
furrowing his brows. "Don’t you at
least think you’re evil?“
She shook her head. "I’m unpleasant, sure, but not evil. I’m not gonna try to fool myself like Mal did
and try to convince myself that I’m evil. I’ll do what I have to do to protect myself in
this place, but that’s it.“
"Then I guess you’re on that list to get more VK’s into
Auradon,” Harry snorted, rolling his eyes at the mere thought. To his surprise, (Y/N) laughed.
“Oh god no,” she scoffed. "Just because I’m not evil doesn’t mean
I’m gonna go to the land of preppy princes and princesses.“
Harry found himself genuinely laughing at that. Before he could utter a response, (Y/N)
stopped in her tracks.
"Well, this is my place,” she announced, gesturing
to the building covered in red paint. "Thanks
for walking me home. It was very
gentlemanly of you.“
She walked into her house before Harry could argue that he
was definitely not a gentleman. For a
moment, he almost forgot that the only reason that he walked her home was
because Uma wanted him to follow her.
The next morning, Harry found himself wandering in the
general vicinity of (Y/N)’s house, waiting to "accidentally” bump
into her. His opportunity presented
itself when (Y/N) stood by a fruit stand, examining the apples.
“What a coincidence,” Harry whispered into her ear
as he approached her from behind, “finding you here.”
“Didn’t think this was your area, Hook,” (Y/N)
quipped, not looking away from the fruit. She didn’t bother to tell him off as he
wrapped his arm around her waist.
“I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?”
“You certainly are,” she agreed with sarcasm
dripping from each word. She filled her
bag with apples, not paying attention to Harry, who had his chin resting on her
shoulder and his arm wrapped around her waist. She handed some cash to the lady behind the
cart and began to walk home, Harry’s arm still resting in the same place.
“Why do you always pay for things?” he questioned.
(Y/N) shrugged. "Because
people need it,“ she answered.
"That’s not a very evil-”
“Unpleasant,” she corrected.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Right, unpleasant. That’s not a very unpleasant thing to do.“
"It’s not my life mission to be an unpleasant person,
Harry stopped before (Y/N), this time, upon recognizing her
house. She lightly smirked as he
unwrapped his arm from her waist.
“You know,” she leaned in to whisper in his ear,
“it’s not a very unpleasant thing for you to always walk me home,
too.” She quickly kissed Harry’s
cheek before dashing inside, leaving him standing outside as he fought the
blush creeping into his cheeks.
Harry continued to follow (Y/N), as Uma ordered, throughout
the rest of the week. Although, for him,
it felt less and less like following every day.
He was about to leave the fish and chip shop that day to begin
“following” (Y/N), but before he could exit, Uma stopped him.
“Where are you going?” she inquired.
“To follow (Y/N),” he answered as if it was
“You’ve been following her for a week,” Uma said,
“and you’ve found nothing suspicious. I think it’s safe to say she’s not a
“I said that to you when she came in, but you still
made me follow her,” Harry argued.
Uma rolled her eyes. "Whatever,
it’s not a concern anymore. Go train
instead, you’re gonna get out of shape if you keep spending all your time
following this girl.“
Harry longingly stared at the exit for a moment before
reluctantly nodding and heading towards the ship, grabbing a sword on his trek
He trained with Gil for a few hours before declaring that he
needed a break. When he turned around to
leave the ship, he spotted (Y/N) standing by the bridge. He smirked as he noticed her gaze scanning his
"What brings you here, princess?” he asked,
grabbing a towel.
She bit her lip and avoided eye contact with him. "I-“ she stopped, choking on her own
"Yes?” Harry couldn’t help but allow the grin that
was exponentially growing on his face.
“I came here because you weren’t by my house
today,” she muttered, keeping her gaze focused on the ground.
“What was that?” he questioned as he inched closer
to her. He knew exactly what she said
the first time.
“You weren’t by my house today,” she repeated a
bit louder this time.
“But why did you come here?” Harry pressed,
continuously moving closer to (Y/N) until her back was pressed against a wall.
“I told you-”
“But that wasn’t really why,” he interrupted her. Her gaze was still focused on the floor, so he
grabbed her chin and tilted her head up. "Look at me, princess.“
"I like walking around with you, okay?” she
Harry smirked. "That’s
all I needed to hear, princess.“ He
began to lean in, still gripping her chin, and their lips were millimeters
apart when they were interrupted.
"Harry!” Uma yelled, storming towards the ship. Harry groaned as he moved away from (Y/N),
resting an arm above her head.
“Sorry, love,” he quietly apologized before
turning to Uma. "Yes, Uma?“
"What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Taking a break from training.”
“With her?” She angrily gestured towards (Y/N). "I told you that you don’t have to follow
"Follow me?” (Y/N) echoed, stepping back from
Harry. "What does she mean, follow
“You only walked with me because Uma ordered you to
keep an eye on me,” she didn’t allow Harry to explain. "You never wanted to spend any time with
"No, no, sweetheart,” Harry tried to cup her face,
but she tore it away. “I-”
“All that flirting,” she spat, backing away from
him. "God, I’m so stupid, I
actually thought that meant something.“
"It did, (Y/N)-” He grabbed her wrist in an
attempt to prevent her from leaving.
“Congratulations, Harry Hook,” she scoffed, and
Harry watched a single tear roll down her cheek. "You are truly evil.“ She ripped her wrist out of his grasp and ran
He stood frozen in his spot, watching her figure fade. When she was out of sight, he started to
scream incoherently, punching the wall that he pinned (Y/N) to minutes ago.
"Come on, Harry, you haven’t trained with me for days!”
Gil exclaimed after Harry rejected his offer to train for the seventh time. "Uma’s gonna be mad if you get too far
out of shape.“
"This is Uma’s fault,” Harry seethed. "If she hadn’t ordered me to follow (Y/N),
none of this would’ve happened.“
"Dude, get over her,” he waved the thought off. "Sure, she was hot, but she was kinda
lame. I mean, she paid for her food. Who does that?“
"Someone who’s not evil,” Harry muttered and
stormed out of the shop. He headed
towards the fruit stand that he knew (Y/N) went to, the stand he went to every day
since that incident at the ship, hoping that one day she’d be there. Once he arrived and scanned the area, he
learned that she, again, was not there.
“Damnit,” he mumbled under his breath. He bided his time by perusing the selection
of fruits. By the time Harry felt like
he had examined every piece of fruit at the cart, he was starting to give up
hope. He was about to leave when a voice
caused him to perk up.
“Yeah, we ran out of apples this morning, so I’m just
running a quick errand and grabbing them,” (Y/N) was explaining to the lady
running the stand. Hook’s eyes widened
as he silently moved towards her.
(Y/N) reached into her pocket to pay for the apples, but
Harry, who stood directly behind her, beat her to it.
“Allow me, princess,” he said, handing some cash to the
lady. Both the lady and (Y/N) stared at
him with confused expressions, shocked that the notorious thief Harry Hook actually
paid for something. “Come on, love, I
want to talk,” Harry whispered in (Y/N)’s ear before dragging her off.
They wound up in a dark, quiet alleyway. When Harry finally stopped walking, (Y/N)
found a chance to rip her arm out of his grip.
She began to run away, but Harry caught her wrist.
“Just give me a minute to explain, please,” he begged
her. Taken aback by his usage of manner,
she silently obliged and stopped trying to escape. “I messed up.”
“Yeah you did.” It
was the first time she had actually spoken to him.
“I know, I know, and I’m a total idiot,” he agreed with her,
“and I’m sorry. When you walked in the
shop that first day, Uma was suspicious of you.
I told her that there was nothing going on, but she insisted that I follow
you. I didn’t want to, I swear, but I had
to. And every day that I spent with you,
it felt less and less like following and more and more like… like-”
“Like what?” (Y/N) questioned, subconsciously inching closer
“It felt like we were just spending time together, you
know? Actually enjoying it.”
“That still doesn’t justify you leading me on like that just
as an attempt to get information,” she huffed, crossing her arms.
“Get information?” He
stared at her quizzically. “I didn’t
flirt with you to get information.”
“Then what was it? Am
I just a game to you? Harry Hook, the
infamous flirt on the Isle, just had
to have a crack at me to see if he could do it.
Well congrats, you did it. Now
you can move on and go pursue some other-”
Before she could finish her ramble, Harry frustratedly
grabbed her face and smashed his lips against hers. He slowly moved forward, backing (Y/N) into
“What,” she tore away from Harry, breathing heavily, “was
“You never seem to let me speak, do you, princess?” Harry grinned before pressing his lips on (Y/N)’s
once again, this time allowing her to reciprocate faster. She knocked his hat off his head and tangled
her fingers in his hair.
“I’m still mad at you,” she reminded him after she pulled
away, fighting a smile.