Harry noticed a dozen girls- all, by the look of them, in their late teens- had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxine. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing clocks. A few of them had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. (based on this post)
But like…. where did he get the jeans? Has he secretly had them all this time? Does he normally wear them around the house? Or are they a recent purchase? Were they a gift? Did Gucci come out with a line of light wash jeans that I missed? Does he do yard work in them? Were they darker before he washed them a few times? Will he wear them again? Did he lose a bet? Is he comfy? I just have a few questions
When the letter arrives, Lily is almost as excited as Petunia. She writes Albus Dumbledore to ask if she can go to, and if she cries a little when the answer comes back no she doesn’t tell anyone. Lily waves from the train platform, writes diligently, and listens with excitement whenever her big sister deigns to share stories of magic.
Petunia gets Sorted Slytherin, where she falls into a mutually-venemous friendship with Severus Snape, who she had considered dirty and poor when he was skulking around Lily in their little neighborhood, lighting leaves on fire like a baby arsonist, but who now seems like the best ally in a pool of ugly little fish.
The blood-purists are their normal asshole selves, which Petunia responds to with busybody eavesdropping, cruel gossip, and manipulative emotional bullying. Severus calls her mudblood in their fifth year (it’s not the first time) and joins the Death Eaters. Tuney calls him a greasy git of a wanker and they still have lunch away from prying eyes now and then.
When the war comes, Petunia does not fight in it. She marries a Hufflepuff boy named Vincent Dunsley who spends their entire first date telling her about his junior position in the Ministry and his planned thirty-six bureaucratic steps to the top of the food chain. Vincent has no problem with Muggleborns, or at least not ones who behave as properly as Petunia.
Lily does fight. She’s been reading the Daily Prophet for years as she sits through history class dreaming of brooms and punching bullies on the playground. At seventeen, she writes Albus Dumbledore again. When he still writes back no, she packs a bag and shows up on the Order’s doorstep.
Alice Longbottom gives her a place to stay, some spare robes, and teaches her how to fly– Lily hopes, wrapped in a warm blanket while they sip cocoa and discuss action plans, that if she’d gone to Hogwarts she’d have been good enough to get Sorted Hufflepuff. Frank beams at his wife in the dim yellow light.
Of the Marauders, Lily meets Sirius first– shaggy hair and strong bones, he’s a tall glass of water and he’s anxiously watching a skinny, scarred boy sleep on the sofa. They’re an hour off a mission and Remus crashed as soon as they got back to headquarters. The first thing Sirius Black, troublemaker and risktaker, says to her is “Shh! You walk like an elephant.”
She’d snap back, but Remus does look that worn down, curled on the cushions.
Peter and James are in the kitchen, shoveling sandwiches down their gullets that are the size of their heads. James staggers to his feet when she comes in. “Hi. Uh, new recruit?”
“Something like that.”
James shoves his hair out of his eyes with one hand and thrusts the other one out in her direction. “James Potter,” he says. “Beauxbatons? I don’t think I ever saw you at Hogwarts.”
She grins. “Lily Evans,” she says. “Cokeworth. And I’d shake your hand, but you’ve got mustard on it.”
Lily defies the Dark Lord and his forces three times, with James’s wand at her back, with Remus’s and Sirius’s and Peter’s. They tell her about Hogwarts and its secrets, and she brings them Muggle candy bars and the boxes of X-Men comic books from under her bed. No one gets chocolate smudges on her pages, under threat of James’s disappointed-in-you face, which he’s been practicing.
Severus Snape hears about a Muggle Evans on the warfront. “Petunia’s not a Muggle,” he snaps when Dolohov mocks him for it, but Crabbe cradles his broken arm and keeps talking– about green eyes, red hair like a war banner– and Severus’s stomach sinks low in his gut, cold and aching.
Severus Snape overhears a prophecy and he tells it to his Lord. Lily Evans Potter is the mother of a halfblood boy with a mess of dark hair. Lily is in Augusta Longbottom’s living room, playing peekaboo with Harry and Neville, because Alice and Frank are already in St. Mungo’s, because she does not know that she is soon to be not a soldier but a fugitive. Her child has no scars, yet.
On Halloween night 1981, Tom Riddle goes to the Godric’s Hollow home that Peter Pettigrew betrayed. He kills James in the front room, wand in hand. He kills Lily in the nursery, after giving her a chance to step aside. He tries to kill Harry, but he fails.
Harry goes to his closest living relatives– his aunt Petunia, uncle Vincent, and cousin Dudley. He sleeps in a little room just off the kitchen, which he thinks used to be a broom closet. They hate the attention he brings when he’s dragged behind his aunt at the grocery store, so they leave Harry home when they go to Diagon Alley, Ministry potlucks, or the evening shows that Dudley fusses through, fists full of pumpkin pasties.
Harry knows how to wash dishes by hand, how to cook bacon without burning it (most mornings), and how to capture the spiders in the broom closet and escort them carefully outside. For his birthday Dudley gets a toy broom. For his, Harry gets an Albus Dumbledore Chocolate Frog card because Dudley already has fifteen and didn’t want that one. Petunia likes to peer over the hedge into the yard of Mrs. Figg, the squib who lives next door, and snigger about how she has to do her laundry without magic.
When Harry is ten years old, his Hogwarts letter comes in the mail and the Dunsleys are surprised. “I wasn’t sure,” Petunia sniffs. “I mean, with my sister’s blood in you and everything, anything could have happened.”
Being back in Holmes Chapel was nice, lovely really. Even after all these years, touring the world and living in LA, Harry felt at home here. He’s smiling while driving through the back streets. He sees his old school and the bakery, then he makes it to his parents house where his family is awaiting his arrival.
“I can’t believe you’re home,” Anne grins while welcoming her son. Harry’s face squishes up against the side of her head as she hugs him tightly.
“Missed ya too mum,” he mumbles before the hug ends. “It’s nice to be here, no where to run off to tomorrow,” Harry states as he looks at his step dad and sister Gemma waiting for an embrace too.
Alright, Witches, Wizards, Muggles, and magical creatures big and small, hold onto your broomsticks because I’m about to tell you why I do not like Harry Potter and the Cursed Child nor accept it as canon.
Spoilers ahead. Obviously. but c’mon who hasn’t read it or been spoiled by nowAlso, it got super long.
Let’s start off by saying: it’s been months since I read it. If I get some things off a little, go ahead and tell me; I’ll edit the rant and correct it. If you just don’t agree with me… that’s great for you. Okay? We good? That’s all the disclaimer you’re getting. Moving on!
Where do I begin? Um… Let’s recap shall we?
It starts with Albus Severus Potter (who’s name I still cannot get over) meeting and becoming friends with Scorpius Malfoy.
Okay. Great. We’ve all wanted that for years. No problem.
We’ve also played with the idea of Albus in Slytherin for years. I have no problem with that either.
What I do have problems with is the way Albus is treated after he is put in Slytherin. He’s the outcast of his family. He’s the “disappointing son”. After Harry’s canon “the bravest man I knew was Slytherin” speech (don’t get me started on Snape), I expected a bit better treatment of Slytherins. But Albus is Slytherin and looked at sideways by the entire cast, except Scorpius. This could easily become a rant about Slytherin’s and stereotypes and treatment, but I give enough of those already.
My issues are mostly with Albus’ personality. Now, I didn’t write the character. He’s not mine. I don’t have the authority to tell anyone how he should be. All I can do is have headcanons. But “canon” Albus doesn’t exactly display a lot of Slytherin traits. Sure he sneaks around, but so does Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they’re all Gryffindor. If my memory serves me correctly, Albus goes to Slytherin because he basically thinks, “Well, the Gryffindors I know suck, let’s try Slytherin.”it’s been a while since I read it okay
Albus is jaded by the time the plot picks up. He doesn’t like flying, isn’t that good at it or Quidditch (which honestly feels like they’re just trying to make him as unlike Harry as possible which I could handle if it wasn’t so badly written), and is basically convinced his life is horrible. (I’ll get into why a little later.) This kid shows no Slytherin traits that I remember. He hardly shows any traits really. I think it was the play format, but Albus becomes a stereotypical teenager who has daddy issues and doesn’t like his life.
Scorpius I don’t really have a big problem with, besides it going against my personal headcanons. He at least shows a bit more Slytherin traits than jaded Albus. I feel like they were trying to break Slytherin stereotypes with him- which is great and all, but it almost makes me feel like that’s all Scorpius’ personality was. As if he was made to simply disrupt our preconceived ideas of what Slytherin is. I don’t like it. Stereotypes are something I can’t stand, but come on, people, don’t strip my house of what we actually are.
Okay, moving on from Slytherin.
Let’s take a step back from the new characters and visit the one’s we already know, we already love. Oh wait, they’ve been ripped to shreds.
(Still writers blocked. Here’s an old story I’ve never posted before, it’s good but I always felt like it deserved a second part and could never come up with one. It works as a one shot but it just could be… y’know?) Eighth Year fic, 3K word count.
“Welcome to detention, lads,” Ruz Yarrow, their new Potions professor, said with a pleasant smile and a lovely Scottish lilt.
Draco kept his gaze locked on his hands in his lap. Harry bit his lip nervously. Professor Yarrow didn’t give detentions out often and they were rumored to the worst. Only no one would say what happened in them, and a bunch of kids with active imaginations only conjured the worst possible scenarios. It was all a little unsettling.
Professor Yarrow had that way about her. She was only five foot five and slight as a wisp, with curly brown hair that was almost always tied back, brown skin and eyes; and yet she was always a bit unnerving. It might have had something to do with the way she always seemed to be smiling like something delightfully awful was just about to happen. She was a very good teacher but took an inordinate amount of glee out of cauldron explosions. Sometimes she even caused them herself, as teaching examples. It was most of the student body’s opinion that the new Potions Professor had a very strange personality indeed.
Professor Yarrow circled around behind them, “See those cauldrons?” she stopped between their shoulders and pointed to the stack of cauldrons reaching the ceiling, stinking of sulfur and dragon liver.
They both nodded and relaxed just a touch, scrubbing cauldrons wasn’t that bad, it was sort of what was expected in a detention.
“Good,” Yarrow went on, “Keep them in mind now, y'hear? During this detention the two of y'are gonna play-” she paused, apparently for effect, “-a compliment game.”
“A what?!” They both blurted, turning around to stare up at her.
Professor Yarrow smiled that gentle unnerving smile of hers, as she walked around back in front of them, “Y'heard me. It’s simple, y'ken. Just take turns give'n each other compliments. If'n y'can’t, or y'say somethin’ a bit rude or cruel, y’ll washs a cauldron wit a dollop of elbow grease, while the rest of us watches you wit scorn and maybe mockery for bein’ a right silly bugger.”
Harry and Draco looked at each other with apprehension.
Hello! I would like to ask you, why do people say Harry is the little spoon? Did he say that? When? And, if he did, then Louis said he is the big spoon? Thanks for your answer! :)
In this 2014 interview with Smalzy, Harry and Niall were asked whether they were the big spoon or the little spoon:
Then a little later on there was a Vine of a fan talking with Harry at a signing of some sort and again he confirmed it.
So, yeah. Harry is the little spoon. Louis has never spoken about being the big spoon (at least as far as I know), so it’s fandom head canon really. But this wonderful post (which has lots of photos and gifs like the one below) gives you a good idea of why so many people think of Louis as Harry’s big spoon.
For me it was the white paint in Harry’s hair after Halloween that really clinched it. Louis goes out at night with white face paint on, the next morning Harry wakes up with the left side of his head coated in something that looks suspiciously like white face paint.
If you add in the various videos we have of Harry getting woken up in bed that show him sleeping on the left side of the bed, here, here, and here, it’s pretty easy to make a leap towards accepting the head canon that after a night out at a party (twice), Louis curled up behind Harry with his barely washed painted face nestled into Harry’s curls. Science.
My conclusion? Harry is the little spoon to Louis’ big spoon.
A/N: Ok, so I’m working on A Broken Shoe, but I feel like no one likes it. So here’s a mini blurb dedicated to the hsquad because we stayed up talking about it ❤️
Word count: 874
Requested: Kind of?
Chest heaving, hair sprawled out on the pillow, sweat falling from her forehead. This is what Harry saw as he pulled his head back from the crook of her neck. A beautiful sight to him, slowly he pulls out from inside her, a whimper of loss falls from his lovers lips.
“Here Poppet, c’mere,” Harry tiredly grunts as he shifts himself to lay beside her. He turns to his side and brushes the hair from her face.
“Let’s go get yeh cleaned up, yeah?” Harry questions as he moves up her body that is filled with fatigue.
The two walk over to the bathroom, where once they step in, Y/N sits on the edge of the tub and Harry grabs a washcloth. While she starts to draw a bath, Harry walks over with the washcloth and two fluffy white towels. Checking to make sure that the water is at the right temperature, Y/N turns off the water and climbs in. A slosh of water is all you hear as Harry dips the washcloth into the bath water. A click of an opening bottle, he squirts out some cherry blossom scented bath wash. Rubbing softly the cloth soaked with water and soap, Harry begins to wash his beautiful girl.
Silence is all you can hear between the two as Y/N rests her tired head on his shoulder as he washes her from head to toe. Water moving signals the clean body, fresh from the moment the two shared moments earlier.
Harry reaches his arms out to her, silently telling her to climb out of the tub. Following his signals, she climbs out of the tub. Harry grabs the fluffy towel from beside him, wrapping her in the warmth. Kissing her head, he wraps his arms around her waist.
“Hope I wasn’t too rough on you back there love,” Harry whispers in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
Y/N’s head shakes side to side, showing that she’s fine from the activities prior. Leaning up to the side of his head, she places a light kiss to the corner of his jaw. She places her head in the crook of the neck and leans into his hug. The two stay in this position for what feels like eternity for them.
Just standing there, embracing each other. Marvelling in their beautiful love and care for one another. Harry pulls back from the hug, placing a light kiss on Y/N’s nose, then her forehead, each of her cheeks, the place where her neck meets her jaw, and finally her lips. Each of these a lingering kiss, so light that they might have been her imagination.
“Alright Poppet, I’m gonna wash off. I wan’ yeh to go in meh closet and get dressed, yeah?” Harry questions her as he holds her face in his hands, not to firm but enough to have her look him in the eyes.
She nods in approval, and Harry goes to place a hard kiss on her nose. Keeping the towel wrapped around her, she makes her way to Harry’s closet. Overcome by mfatigue, Y/N grabs the first shirt she sees. Putting it on, it fits pretty large and is very comfortable. Buttoning up the few buttons that were undone, she heads back into the bathroom sitting just across the master room. Although they haven’t been dating for a long time, Y/N kept an overnight bag for times just like these. Reaching underneath the sink, she smiles at the tune that Harry is humming in the shower. She grabs the bag that contains her toothbrush and paste, hairbrush, and deodorant. Placing the pink floral brush in her hand Y/N raises it to her hair and slowly brushes her hair, careful to remove the tangles and knots. When the knots were all out of her hair, Y/N sticks her toothbrush in the shower, and quickly asks “Hey, Haz can you get the brush wet please? I didn’t wanna run the water and make the water really hot.”
“Thanks babe, an’ yeh I can, gimme a sec,” Harry responds chuckling at her consideration.
After the brush was wet, Y/N squeezes out some of the minty toothpaste onto the damp brush. Moving it around her mouth, she finally spits out the remanentes and swirls some cool water from the sink. Spitting out the water from her mouth, she cleans up her mess and heads out to the bedroom. Pulling over the duvet, Y/N grabs a pillow and covers herself up, waiting for Harry to come in.
Somehow, between the time Y/N got in bed and Harry got out the shower, she had managed to fall asleep. When Harry finally got into the bed, with only a pair of briefs, he chuckled to himself. Seeing his girlfriend with her hair pulled back in a bun, a light snore falling from her lips, eyelashes against her cheeks, and a small trail of drool falling from her face. The most beautiful he has ever seen Y/N. As Harry climbs into the bed, he notices that she is wearing his favorite Gucci shirt, smiling to himself, he closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Y/N.
Waking up the morning of your birthday, you tried to keep your nerves in check. You expected pancakes and coffee in the least, but nothing too fancy. Instead, you found a quiet flat thanks to a very still asleep Harry. You didn’t blame him for that though, considering you had a pretty early class anyway. Who would want to get up at 6:30am willingly?
So you made your own coffee and dressed for school. You wouldn’t be on campus much today anyway, but more in the courthouse. Your professor was working a case, a very high profile case, and you had been asked to be his consulting student. You were very excited about it, but due to the nature of the case and the amount of thugs you were sure you’d encounter, you’d yet to tell Harry about it. He could get protective of this kind of thing, and you didn’t want to have to worry about his feelings and the case at the same time.
Harry was still asleep when you left, smoothing out your dress as you heels clicked down the hall on the way to the elevator. You’d get a ‘Happy Birthday’ text, you were sure. That at the very least.
My night routine was always more extensive then Harry’s ever was or will ever be. I can’t even count the times Harry has complained over the years about me taking to long to get into bed.
“Come on babe, wearing your makeup to bed once wont kill you!” Or
“Petal come cuddle I’m going to die of loneliness!”
Did this ever make me go any faster? No, but it did make me smile and my heart swell just a little bit.
A little bit ago we got home from Interviews. Interview days were good and bad. Good because they weren’t too hectic and I got to be with Harry. The bad part was I was with Harry but couldn’t talk to him.
After getting done with some work of my own around 10:30 P.M I decided the start getting ready for bed. Swiftly I shut my laptop and sat it down on the couch beside me. Harry was sitting on the other couch across from me writing on several different pieces of papers. Not sure what they were, music I assume.
I stand up, stretch my arms up above my head, and letting out a little yawn.
“Where ya goin’ bug?” Harry asked briefly looking up from the papers in his hands.
“I finished my work so I’m gonna get ready for bed.” I say going over and kissing him on the forehead.
“Okay, I’ll be up in a minute, I’m almost done.” Harry says softly before turning right back to the papers.
I lightly pout. When I don’t walk away Harry looks up at me.
“Somethin’ else?” He asks then looks back at the papers.
I get right in front of him, take the papers out of his hands, and set them beside him on the couch.
Immediately Harry snaps his head up. He’s about to say something but I cut him off.
I bring my hand down to the collar of his shirt and lightly tug.
Harry’s face breaks into a dimpled smile.
“I jus bout forgot din I?” He ask with a smirk tugging at his lips.
Quickly Harry pulled the shirt over his head and handed it to me.
I tilted his chin up towards me and kissed his lips.
“Thank you babe.” I say then head to our bedrooms bathroom.
Ever since we started dating I always loved to wear Harry’s clothes but especially after he wore them. If he ever wore a casual t shirt all day, then that night I’d want to wear it because it smelt like him.
Once I got into the bathroom I changed into his shirt and clean underwear. Throwing my hair into a bun I quickly wash my face and brush my teeth. I don’t think I take too long getting ready for bed, Harry just always washes his face and brushes his teeth right after dinner. Also he is a very impatient booger.
In the middle of brushing my teeth I look in the mirror and can see Harry lying on the bed more thank likely just in boxers, under the blanket. His left hand is behind his head while is right props his phone up on his chest scrolling through who knows what. Probably Instagram even though the boy never uses it.
When I get done I turn the bathroom light and head towards the bed.
Harry sees the light go off out of the corner of his eye and locks his phone setting it on his bedside table. Then he looks up at me and out stretches his arms.
“Come ere’ bugs, I’ve missed you.”
I giggle but do as he says, laying my head on his chest and his right arm wraps around me and lightly kisses me on top of my head.
“Harry we’ve spent the whole day together.” I say smiling and lightly kissing his chest.
Instantly his fingers start running through my hair.
“Yeah but I’ve been doing stuff all day and besides we haven’t really been alone.” He says still playing with my hair.
I take a deep breath in, just inhaling his wonderful scent. I know this sounds super creepy but I’ve never smelt a more wonderful smelling person in my life.
My right hand slowly traces random shapes on his bare chest. And for a while that’s all we do. No talking, just enjoying each others presence.
After a little while of doing this though I get a little bored. I needed more contact, if even possible.
I scoot up higher to where my head is now resting right by his neck. I turn my lips to wear I can kiss him. And that’s just what I do.
Anywhere my lips can reach I kiss. Lightly sucking every so often, especially behind his ear where he’s most sensitive.
I swing me leg over his body to where I’m straddling him and get to work on his other side.
Harry’s hand slide under my shirt and grab onto my hips.
“I thought we were supposed to try to go to sleep?” He asks lightly chuckling.
“Sleeps boring, I’d rather do this.” I mumble kiss up his jaw.
Suddenly I’m flipped over and Harry’s on top of me.
“Oh you don’t know what you just started.” Harry says with a smirk and wild eyes.
Lets just say we did a lot of stuff other than sleeping.
Sorry I haven’t written in forever!! I’ve sadly had no motivation but I’m back!! Hope you liked!
I tried not to make this smutty but if y’all would like a part 2 smutty version let me know!!
- Stopping by the kitchen door when he spots you dancing while doing the dishes - Resting his shoulder on the frame door, his gaze following the curves of your body with an amused smirk on his lips - Taking his phone out of his pocket and recording you, trying his best to not make you aware of his presence - Coming behind you as close as possible, his eyes on the moves of your hips, biting his lips with a smile - Pressing a quick kiss on your ear before laying his hands on your hips, pressing his body against yours - Gripping the edge of the sink on each side of your body, blocking you between his body and the sink - His soft giggle in your ear when you scream surprised, one of his arm wrapping your waist - Whispering in your neck with a teasing smile “ Sorry, I made you scream. for once it wasn’t my intention …” - Wrapping his other arm around your body when you push on him with your elbow to make him stop his tease - Burying his face in your hair to reach your skin, spreading kisses from your neck to the edge of your jaw - His hands moving along your rib cage until the underside of your arms to slide down and resting his large hands on yours - Interlacing his long fingers with yours while he tickles you in nibbling on your ear lobe - His thumbs caressing the back of your wet hands, his hands holding tighter when he hears a sigh escaping your lips - His voice whispering in your ear “Do you need some help? I can give you a hand.” - His teeth nibbling gently on the edge of your ear, one of his hand sliding under your shirt - His wet fingers brushing the skin of your tummy, humming absently when you ask him what he’s doing - Answering you as innocent as possible with his lips on your cheek “ Just give you a hand Love … ” - His lips pressing smiling kisses on the top of your cheek when he sees you rolling your eyes amused - His both hands moving tantalizing slowly above the skin of your tummy, drawing abstract patterns - Paying close attention to each one of your reactions, being guided in his touches by the soft moans coming from you - Tensing your body when he lets the back of his wet fingers running along your rib cage and hips - Feeling his smirk growing against your skin when you try to catch his hands to stop the tickles making you shivering - His low voice in the crook of your neck “ Did I just find a new weak spot of yours?” - Spreading open mouth kisses behind your ear to distract you and make you letting go of his hands - Pushing a bit more his body against you, your body pressed against the sink, the bottom part of your shirt becoming soaking wet - One of his hand cupping your bra, his fingertips sliding slowly over the soft skin of your breast - Kissing the side of your face when you let your head rest on his shoulder “Your shirt is all wet, you should take it off…” - Giving you a charming smile before whispering above your lips “ I can also give you a hand for that …”