felt-hats

The other day, I wondered how the world of Harry Potter would be different if all students were sorted every year, rather than only in their first. So I wrote this.


Little is changed from Harry Potter’s first year at Hogwarts. Still he sits under that hat, thinking, not Slytherin; still the Hat considers his potential before sending him to Gryffindor. Still he is joined in Gryffindor by Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, still the Slytherin he so feared to be in will hold Draco Malfoy. Little is different about the placement of the older students, for all the Sorting Ceremony is made longer, and the Hat’s song a little changed, with their participation. Fred and George Weasley, like their younger brother, are still in Gryffindor. Ambitious Percy Weasley may be in Slytherin by now, maybe not yet, but he is a Prefect regardless. Oliver Wood or someone like him will still be Harry’s first Quidditch Captain.

In Harry’s second year, he and Ron are in more trouble than ever for missing the Sorting Ceremony. Now the Hat must be got out again to Sort these two boys who have caused such a stir, to confirm what surprises no one: both will remain in Gryffindor this year. (This time, Harry is once again thinking his wishes to the Hat, but instead of not Slytherin, he is pleading, Gryffindor, Gryffindor – picturing the warm Gryffindor common room that is the first home he has ever known, the first place that has welcomed him rather than shut him away. The hat, once again, obeys his wishes.) Both boys are relieved to find their House much the same as they left it; Hermione Granger is in their midst again, joined by Ron’s shy little sister Ginny.

Neville Longbottom, who had been plagued throughout his first year in Gryffindor by doubt as to his right to be there, is with them again, too. They missed his silent drama at the Ceremony, too, as the boy sat under the Hat that could see into his mind and reflected on the end of term. He had remembered standing up to the three classmates he thought he could call his friends, only to be left behind – hexed, as he so often was, ridiculed. More proof that he did not belong in the brave House. But he remembered, too, Dumbledore’s voice at the end-of-year feast – praising him for doing what was hard. He remembered being awarded House points for this simple act, and with the meagre sum, winning Gryffindor the House Cup. That heady feeling of being, for just one moment, a celebrated hero – that was like nothing else. That was worth a year and more of self-doubt. So Neville now unpacked his bags in the Gryffindor dormitories again, and, like Harry, he felt for the first time that he was home.

Harry has grown complacent, all his friends staying with him from his first year to his second. He hears the warnings of the older students on his Quidditch team (some of whom go from one House’s team to the next from year to year), the reminders that he will need to make new friends soon, but he does not really believe them. He cannot imagine his world changing even more than it has.

This is why he feels as though his stomach has dropped out of his body, as though he has fallen into some bottomless pit, when things change in his third year. He is still in Gryffindor, yes, and still with Ron, thank goodness for that, but Hermione Granger is no longer of their House. Hermione, who spent the last term of her second year as a statue, whose research was the only part of her that got to be a part of the battle in the Chamber of Secrets, who scrambled and sweated when she was unpetrified to pass all her courses in the remaining days of term – despite the promises of the administration that classes missed by the basilisk’s victims would not be held against their grades. Hermione, who had been called an “insufferable know-it-all” so many times that it had almost stopped hurting, who had felt so frustrated with the cavalier attitude her fellow Gryffindors took to classwork. She was now a Ravenclaw, the blue insignia on her robes matching that of Ginny Weasley, who seemed to have shrunk in on herself after the events of last term. (Ginny, like Harry in his first year, sat under the Hat in her second year thinking not Slytherin, not Slytherin, but then she had paused, and thought, not Gryffindor, too, because Riddle had possessed her despite her red-and-gold robes, and because she did not feel brave.)

Ginny, Hermione, and Luna Lovegood (here is one girl the Hat cannot imagine placing anywhere but Ravenclaw, though it will surprise itself in years to come) soon find each other in the Ravenclaw common room, and form an odd, but tight, bond over the first few weeks of term. Hermione finds that it is nice to have close friends who are girls; she never had this in her two years in Gryffindor. She still finds time to talk to Harry, to help him with an essay in the library or to keep him company on restless Hogsmeade weekends or to walk with him to Hagrid’s hut. They are still friends, and good ones; no disparity of House can change the bond forged in fighting a mountain troll together, and all they have been through together since.

She explains this, at last, to Ron Weasley in the days before Christmas vacation, when the dark looks he has been sending her all term finally come to a head in a shouting match outside the Divination tower. Ron, too quick to view matters in black and white, had seen her Ravenclaw badge as a betrayal, a defection. Had imagined that this was her choice, rather than the honest assessment of the Hat. Had felt left behind, discarded, second-rate, dismissed like his brothers’ hand-me-down robes that he wore. With Harry to remind him not to be an ass, to remind Hermione that Ron was always like this, they made up soon enough. Hermione laughed and called Ron an idiot, but fondly; and he laughed back, and told her that the blue and silver only made her look more the nerd. The trio were reunited, even if they were in different houses.

And, after that fight at least, perhaps the difference of house was a blessing in disguise. Crookshanks could not worry at Ron’s rat when they lived in different common rooms. There was no fight between Ron and Hermione about their pets; when Scabbers went missing, there was no talk of foul play, only an agreement between the three friends that they would try to find him. The three were still present in the Shrieking Shack, two Gryffindor children and one Ravenclaw, to bear witness to the true identity of Scabbers, to bear witness to the reunion of the three living Marauders. They still saved Buckbeak; they still lost Pettigrew.

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More fancy-pants TF2 fashion plates! These are less formal than the first batch, which you can see here.

Engineer ★ Western tuxedo

  • oversized embroidered jacket
  • topaz and bronze bolo tie
  • fine wool felt cowboy hat with color-matching ribbon
  • oversized bronze and silver belt buckle
  • antique cowboy boots with silver toe caps

Sniper ★ Tropical tuxedo

  • ecru linen dinner jacket
  • New Zealand wildflower boutonnière
  • two-tone patent leather saddle shoes
  • pleated apricot button-down shirt

Pyro ★ I have no idea

  • lavender feather boa
  • pretty princess gold tiara and sash
  • black tuxedo bowtie and vest
  • monocle and false facial hair
  • leather opera gloves and spats

Apparently, the Mad Hatter character from Alice in Wonderland is based on Erethism, also known as “Mad Hatter Disease”.

Hat making factories used to use mercury in order to stabilize the wool in the felt hats. Factory workers exposed to mercury fumes all day suffered from neurological diseases that caused psychosis and erratic behaviors, hence the nickname. It also led to the expression “as mad as a hatter”

Tomorrow - Jughead Jones

Anonymous said:

can i request a jughead imagine with the prompt, “i think i’m in love with you, and i’m terrified.”

Originally posted by evenstoast


I’m sorry it’s so short, it’s more of a drabble than an imagine!

“C’mon, Y/N, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Jughead said, but you were too busy looking around the diner, looking anywhere but at him. He had taken it too far, almost getting into a fight with Reggie, then just making a joke about it all. “It’s like you don’t care about your well being,” you said, finally looking back at him and seeing his greenish-blue eyes. He shut his laptop screen and lean forward, across the diner table. “Can we go outside and talk?” His voice was surprisingly calm, so you nodded and he packed up his belongings. When outside, Jughead turned, pressing you against the wall of Pop’s diner. “You’re right, I don’t care about myself, because I know that there’s a killer out there and I’m worried about you.” You stared up at him and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. The arm that had caged you against the wall, fell to his side. You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “Jug, I’m going to be fine but I need you to look out for yourself too.” He pulled his hand out of yours, rubbing his palms against his face. He turned his back to you and you could see his back heaving. “Jug-” you started, but your friend turned around and you stopped upon seeing the tears in his eyes. “Y/N, you don’t get it,” his voice was quiet when he spoke now, “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”

His words left you speechless. All you could do was walk towards him a wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. You felt his arms wrap around you as well, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Despite the fact and you Jughead having been friends for many years, you had never seen such a blatant show of emotion like this. You were used to his dry humor that always made you smile, but sarcasm would have never been able to hide these feelings. You felt his hands at the small of your back, pushing you closer to him. At some point during the hug, it started to rain. Little droplets fell against your hair and Jughead’s hat. You felt his shoulders shake and you pulled back to see if he was crying; but it was a smile that graced his lips instead of a frown. “Why are you laughing?” You asked, smiling at him, but he just slumped his head on his shoulder. “This is just…” he moved his head, looking into your eyes, “I tell you about how I feel and then it started to rain.” You reached up, the back of your knuckles stroking his cheek. His hand reaches up to grab yours, pulling you a little closer. You eyes darted from his eyes to his lips and you blushed when you realized he was doing the same. “Are we really gonna kiss in the rain?” His voice was a whisper, but you smiled at his tone. “I think we are,” you replied with a grin. The tips of your noses brushed as your faces grew closer. You lips met his in one quick movement and it was a flurry of emotions. His hand found your waist and yours landed on the back of his neck. You felt the rain start to fall heavier as he deepened the kiss.

You finally pulled back for air, you left him panting. You studied his face with somewhat swollen lips and you giggled at the expression in his eyes. “That was…” you nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him under a rain guard near the diner. “Cliche?” You asked, taking his soaking hat off his head and running your fingers through his hair. He gave you a grin before he started to lean down again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You stayed in the diner until the rain stopped and then Jughead started to walk you home. The walk was quiet for the most part, it wasn’t until you reached the edge of your driveway when someone spoke. “Y/N, I know that all of that,” Jughead raised his hands, “but if you don’t want to date I unders-” You cut off his rambling by pressing your lips to his once more. His hand instinctively reached for yours, holding it loosely. You backed away with a smile, “I think I love you too, Jughead.” The smile he gave you was breathtaking, but you had to go inside. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, walking towards your house. His fingers were still tangled with yours, but as you pulled away, he let go on your hand. “Tomorrow.” He whispered to himself as he walked away. He would see you tomorrow.

genjis-girlfriencl  asked:

I'm like 90% sure someone has probably already come up with this but on a whim today I figured a mafia au in which TC is a mafia boss of which few have seen but many have heard of, Christine is a singer who doesn't.. want to cover for his crimes but does bc [insert reason here] and all the while she's trying to keep raoul out of the whole thing,,

Your icon is amazing btw and AHHH! I love it…I love it….I am not sure what era you meant for this AU but my mind went straight to 30s-40s film noir/pulpy crime novels…

*defeatedly adds “Frankenstein’s Mobster AU” to the list*