The Marauders were a group of four Gryffindors and classmates: Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and James Potter. The four attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from 1971-1978. The four students that had a knack for rule-breaking and mischief making.

black and white series

So yesterday I was in the office of my house, just chilling on the computer, when all of a sudden bat flew in the room. I stared at it for two seconds and then fled, leaving other people to deal with it.

I have reaffirmed that I am not anything like a Gryffindor! Hufflepuff forever!

Talking Bad: Harry Potter

Originally posted by couplenotes

Can you do an imagine where the reader is a younger slytherin that really likes Harry but she overhears the golden trio say something bad about slytherins and is really upset? You can decide what happens afterward

“Hello, Fred and George,” I chirp happily and take a seat beside two of my favorite upperclassmen. I had found them seated at the Gryffindor table, possibly going over plans for new trinkets or pranks. I was dressed in a pair of ripped black jeans, a dark green wool sweater and my ratty old combat boots. Many people considered me the mascot of my house, Slytherin, and could tell exactly which one I belonged to just by what I wore and how I acted at times, that however never stopped me from venturing out and making diverse friends.

“Hey. If you’re looking for Harry I think I saw him up in the clock tower,” Fred mumbles, his brown eyes scanning across the parchment paper rapidly, and then looks up at me with a small freckled grin. I huff out in annoyance and stuck my tongue out at him before turning to George who was jotting down spells and mumbling underneath his breath.

“You guys aren’t any fun, I think I will go look for Harry,” When I turn and start to walk away I hear the distinct sound of chuckling rumbling from behind me. A fond smile comes to my face and I pick up my speed so that I wouldn’t possibly miss Harry. Along my path to the clock tower I wave to my friends and even stop a couple of times to have small conversations and see how they were doing.

I came to a stop in front of the entrance, soft murmurs coming from inside the usually silent room. I didn’t want to disrupt a conversation so I press my back up against the wall and slide across it until I could peak around the corner and get a better understanding of what was going on. I saw the Golden Trio standing in the middle of the room, they weren’t whispering but their voices were soft and could barely reach where I stood.

“Slytherins are so annoying sometimes. One knocked my potion over yesterday, I sported warts all day. Sometimes I wanna hex them,” Hermione mumbles, subconsciously reaching up to touch her flawless cheeks.

“Bloody tell me about it, I wish that their house didn’t exist. I’m telling you, Hogwarts would be so much better if it was only Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor,” Ron agrees and nudges Harry who grunts as a response.

“Guys, I agree with you that Slytherins are pretty nasty sometimes-,” I couldn’t listen anymore so I push myself away from the door and took off running. I didn’t look back when I heard voices, my anguish and tears clouding my mind as my feet carried me further and further away. When I finally stopped and look around my surrounding I saw that I was standing on the shores of the black lake. I immediately drop down to my knees and hung my head down as small sobs rattled my body, I finally shifted so I was sitting on the ground and stare out into the gentle water ripples.

As I watch the ripples my cries slowly came down to hiccups and soon I was emotionlessly staring out at the vast water, looking but not really looking at the same time. My legs were pulled up to my chest and my chin was resting on my knees for support, the wind whips around my frizzy (color) locks. This was where I really felt peaceful, where I knew no one was giving me hateful gazes or speaking out their beliefs on why they think I was chosen to be a Slytherin. Everyone things that Slytherins are coldhearted wannabe Death Eaters but I feel like they forget at times that we are just teenagers and sometimes have no control over our lives, no say in what we are forced to do.

I release a shaky sigh and close my eyes for a brief moment, snapping them open when I hear the snap of a branch. I immediately pull my wand out and raise it in defense against any threat but when I saw Harry I simply scoffed and tucked the wood back into my boot, turning away from the rueful boy and staring out at the murky water. I heard his shoes crush the stones beneath his feet and then the warmth that radiates from his body as he takes a seat beside me on the ground. I look at him out of the corner of my eye and saw that he was already staring at me.

“What?” I hiss underneath my breath and the older lad sighs before wrapping his fingers around my chin and tilting my face to the side and up so that I could see his eyes, see just how sorry he ‘really’ was.

“I just wanted to say sorry for what you heard back there. I was going to stand up for you I swear but before I could you ran off, not even stopping when I continuously shouted your name.”

“Oh I thought you’d rather stay with your friends and talk about how nasty Slytherins really are,” I sneer, moving to rip my chin away from his hands but surprisingly he held on firmly and soon I found his lips attached to mine, moving effortlessly across them. I push at his chest repeatedly but my efforts went unnoticed and soon I found myself clutching at the strip shirt he was wearing. My lips start to react and I tug him closer to my body, tears flowing down my face, and allow one of my arms to wrap around his neck, holding onto him for life.

When we pull away I press my forehead against his and laugh underneath my breath gently, fresh tears staining my cold cheeks. He gave me a soft peck on the lips and my cheeks heated up before I pull away and go to sit next to him once more, wiping the tears away. “You’re a dork, Potter.”

“Well I’m your dork,” he retorts with a cheesy grin and I couldn’t help but laugh, bumping my shoulders with his.