i really want to know how ‘i solemnly swear that i’m up to no good’ came about like it sounds like 1807 illuminati i mean did the marauders just have a duvet and pillow fort with muggle torches and vowed to become blood brothers?
Listen up folks!
So, we all know about our Hogwarts houses and we also know that it is an unspoken rule that your Hogwarts house is kind of your own very important, very chaotic but also very lovable family.
However, I am slowly but steadily getting sick of hearing:
“Oh, you’re a Slytherin, so you are an evil piece of shit.”
Like, no. Kindly f*ck off. It’s true that once you have pissed me off, I’ll make your life miserable, but that doesn’t mean that I’m evil, at least not per se.
And this does not only go for Slytherins.
It goes for every house.
You wanna know how I know? Apart from the obvious evidence given in the books, let’s just take one short look at their freakin’ crests.
☆ GRYFFINDOR ☆
Their house animal is a bloody lion!
Yes, it’s true that male lions sometimes fight recklessly. BUT, a lion pride has a strict hierarchy and rules which are to be followed. The young lions are to be protected at all cost and the pride is literally living together. Whether they are hunting or grooming each other or simply lying on the sun together. They protect each other, the pride and their territory.
So, should you ever think that Gryffindors are happy go lucky idiots , than you are most likely fucking wrong. Thank you very much.
☆ HUFFLEPUFF ☆
Oh boy, don’t even get me started… You think a badger is cute and harmless? Well, yes they are, but still. Have you ever heard of the honey-badger? Probably the most badass living mammal I have ever heard of. That animal eats snakes! Freakin’ snakes!!
It digs out the honey out off a bee hive and gets stung ten to twenty times and simply does not give a shit.
If you still think Hufflepuffs are vulnerable you better get ready to get your ass kicked.
☆ RAVENCLAW ☆
Alright, so, Ravenclaws always read and have a stick up their arse? Well, think again!
Their animal is a motherfudging eagle. That creature is so epic even Americas bald eagle loses its feathers. Have you seen its claws? Because I have and they certainly aren’t just for decoration.
They might have their head in the clouds but from up there they can see all your flaws so shut the fuck up about Ravenclaws being boring.
☆ SLYTHERIN ☆
Yes, you say the snake is an evil demon? Well , you thought wrong, asshat! It’s true that the snake is a sign of the wicked, but it is also known for its wisdom and healing. Snake poison is indeed used for certain antidotes hence the use of the snake as the sign of medicine.
Furthermore , in mythology it is the symbol of eternity and primal energy (Uroborus.)
So yeah, you wanna say that I’m a piece of shit? Okay, maybe so. But that has nothing to do with my Hogwarts house. So leave it.
When a Ravenclaw makes their way to the great hall for breakfast, they take the long way there so they can talk to some of their favorite portraits. Sometimes they get knowledge passed on through generations of portraits all over the school. Sometimes they hear the portraits talking about the past, sometimes distant, sometimes more recent. And most of the portraits like to talk about troublemakers that they always saw out of bed after hours and insisted on people calling them The Marauders. Whenever a Ravenclaw asks what The Marauders real names are, the portraits just smile sadly and say words that most certainly aren’t names: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.
Some say that the trees whisper their names. That you can hear their fading laughter on the wind.
Footprints sometimes appear in the moist grass or mud and their steps echo through the halls.
The paintings on the wall tip their hats to the shadows dancing through the corridors and a cooling breeze gently caresses the curtains.
On photos you think you see a third person but they quickly disappear after a second look.
Sometimes the couch is still warm from someone else sitting on it , even though it’s three in the morning. And the house elves sometimes talk and wave at thin air.
The professors might call you by the wrong name and suddenly they have to blink tears away but can’t fight the small but sad smile that flickers over their face.
Countless cats and owls without an owner wander the school and sleep on the abandoned desks in empty class rooms. And sometimes, they freeze, lift their head and cry out. Whining until someone picks them up and reassures them.
Still opened books are gathering dust in the library. Nobody could ever bring themselves to store them away.
But sometimes a light winds picks up a page and will turn it ever so gently.
And every year on may 2nd , when the sunlight hits the surface of the lake, you can see the backs of fifty six people standing side by side. Facing the sun. They shimmer in the air and their feet don’t touch the ground.
One of them has red hair and the pupils could have sworn that they have seen someone who looked just like him when they were shopping in Diagon Alley.
Next to him, a married couple. You can tell by the way they are holding each others hands. The woman has bright pink hair and her husband seems to radiate warmth and kindness.
Then there is this younger kid. A vintage camera in his small hand. He always tries to take a picture of the sun, but he has never managed to catch the right moment yet.
Next to him stands a blonde, pale girl with a rose ribbon in her hair. She always lays a hand onto the boys bony shoulder and squeezes it gently.
They are surrounded by fifty other people.
The pupils can never actually see their faces. Only their backs. Like a wall of light and warmth they stand united at the lake. Enjoying the sun. Protecting what is left.
And there at the end of the line. There is a man, standing on his own. He is wearing all black. It suits him in a bizarre way. He is yellowish and pale and has black hair. He never looks at the sun. Instead, he stands in the shadow of a tree. Watching the others.
It took years. But after nineteen winters the married couple flowed towards him, took his hand and pulled him to join the others.
To stand together by the water. Between the wild and the school.
As a promise.
Not another child would die on this ground. Not here. History might be written with blood, but not at a place of ink. Not at this school.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good":
- Aries, Gemini, Sagittarius
""Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.":
“OF COURSE IT IS HAPPENING INSIDE YOUR HEAD, HARRY, BUT WHY ON EARTH SHOULD THAT MEAN THAT IT IS NOT REAL?”:
“You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” :
"However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.":
- Neptune, Pisces
"Let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.”:
"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human … the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.":
"Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.":
"I don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me.":
"You are protected in short by your ability to love":
"The mind is not a book to be opened at will and examined at leisure":
That whilst Harry lost his parents, that day, Minerva MC Gonagall lost four of her students. One of them used to be a head girl the other the head boy and all of them were her dear friends. Who btw. where also part of the order. She hears that Sirius Black. **Sirius Black** , Potter’s best friend , killed him, his wife and Peter Pettigrew, also one of his closest mates. She learned that , without reason but only the order of a dark lord, he killed his friends and laughed at their corpses.
She learns that their lovely son will grow up without knowing his parents.
She hears that he will have to stay with the muggles who hate him and his kin. And don’t tell me she didn’t know that.
Then, 11 years later she meets the boy and he looks just like James. Except for his eyes. Of course. Don’t tell me she didn’t , just for a second, felt that thug in her stomach. The grief. Don’t tell me she didn’t want the very best for that boy so many people loved and lived and died for.
(Because I honestly don’t think Remus wanted to keep on going after he heard what happened)
Then, again, two years later it turns out that Black is actually innocent. Don’t you think she felt absolutely horrible and guilty for letting him being shipped off to azkaban when he was in fact innocent. FOR 12 BLOODY YEARS!!!
And then, in Harry ’s fifth year Black fucking dies?? I mean, bugger off arsehole! Sirius Black, finally free. And then? He falls into the bloody veil and leaves as well. He wasn’t even hit by the bloody avada kadavra! By that time she lost four of her former students!
And last but not least. Two years later. Remus Lupin dies. As the last of the mauraders, he dies with his wife’s hand clasped in his own.
DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT HOW AWFUL IT HAD TO BE FOR MINERVA BLOODY MC GONAGALL? A TEACHER THAT OUTLIVED HER OWN STUDENTS. THE STUDENTS THAT WERE THE VERY HEART AND SOUL TO HER HOUSE? WHO WERE ALWAYS JUMPING AROUND, PRANKING PEOPLE AND ALWAYS, I MEAN ABSOLUTELY ALWAYS FOUND A WAY TO CHEER OTHER PEOPLE UP?
and it didn’t even stop there. I mean, she had to watch her own pupils die once again during the battle of hogwarts. Just so she could then, later on, be the headmaster for their sons and daughters and brothers and sisters.
ALL I WANT TO SAY IS:
SHE NEVER GAVE UP. SHE NEVER LOST HOPE. SO, THANKS MINERVA MC GONAGALL FOR BEING SUCH A BADASS.
How did Fred and George figure out how to use the marauders map? “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good” isn’t exactly a phrase you just happen to say.
Imagine the twins staying up late poking at this pilfered piece of old parchment, wants out, trying to figure it out. What if the map really WAS enchanted to insult whomever reads it (with special anti-snivellus spells worked in of course).
The twins LOVE IT, they think it’s hysterical, the want more! So they start interacting with the map more and offering their own quips and insults (“Mssr. Padfoot sounds like a loser with bad hair” “MSSR PADFOOT’S HAIR IS LUXURIOUS AND BEAUTIFUL EXCUSE YOU.”) They start developing a report with the personalities inside the map.
The map decides they’re worthy of its secrets.
Fred and George get even more into the map, and into these four mysterious mischief makers who paved the way for them. Did they go to Hogwarts? What houses were they in? Did Prongs play quidditch or gobstones? Did Moony have a girlfriend? Did Wormtail prefer chocolate or licorice?
Fred and Geoege start making goddamn Marauders headcanons. They’re super into it- these four people are their heroes. They imagine a whole life for them and speculate endlessly.
Flash forward to the summer before their 7th year. They’ve long since passed the map to Harry, have sort of gotten over their obsession with the marauders, have bigger things to focus on. But then in the hallway, in passing, they hear Sirius fondly calling Remus “Moony” and hear Lupin laugh and call Sirius “Padfoot”.
You know that feeling when you really want to jump into the black and white lines in your book? When your own world seems boring and you realise that you are not the main character in a haunting story?
You are not Hermoine Granger, the brightest which of her age.
You are not Bilbo Baggins who left for an adventure.
You are not Katniss Everdeen who fought for life and love and justice.
You are not Achilles who grasped and swallowed immortality.
You not odysseus who walked with giants.
You are not Aelin who will gain back her crown.
Your are not fictional.
Instead you are very real. You might struggle with school. With your mentality. With your personal life. You wish for problems so big that they would overshadow your own and turn you life upside down.
You are waiting for an opportunity.
But you know what you are actually doing?
You are wasting time.
Yes, we are not in those magnificent universes that other people created with their imagination.
But you know what?
All stories have something that anchors them into our world.
Those ideas. Those worlds. Those universes. Those books. They didn’t appear out of thin air.
Something in those books, and it might only be the nightsky, but something in there comes from our world.
So get up and out. You want to dive into their world? How can you say that when you haven’t even seen your own?
Look up! Do you see the full moon that so many legends are spun around? Would you like to touch the stars that so many myths rang about? Do you see the mountains that giants used to play on? Do you listen to the whispering of the trees? The songs of the wind? The roaring of the sea? Do you hear the groaning of the woods? Those trees, do they move in your book? Walk to face Saruman?
What are they facing now?
Your world is just as magnificent as the one you read about.
The people are just as brilliant.
Now it’s your turn. You want to be the hero or the heroine in your life?
Well what are you waiting for?
You are millennium old stardust, formed by time itself.
You have iron in your blood and calcium in your bones.
Don’t tell me that you don’t have it in yourself to be the hero you read about.
You are a force of nature.
And no one can take that away. No one but yourself.
FINALLY. I FINISHED IT. Fucking hate random writer’s block but I hope y'all like this one. Sorry if it’s not as detailed or as intricate as the other smuts I’ve written (lol you naughty readers ;)) ) but i did my best. Also, I might not open requests next week ‘cause it’s Holy Week from where I am but mainly because my parents will be home.
(Y/n) kept her eyes focused on the approaching Hufflepuff while trying to guard the hoop. Gryffindor was now on tie with the rivalry team and both only needed fifty points in order to determine who wins the game. As she swatted the quaffle with her broomstick, her team captain, James Potter, cheered; thinking they had succeeded in slowing down the opponent’s chances of winning. However, it was only a distraction as the other Chaser zipped to one of the hoops that (Y/n) was supposedly guarding and threw the quaffle perfectly through the ring.
The crowd roared and applauded at the sight before the game commentator could announce the team’s victory.
Gryffindor students all groaned in defeat as their own team flew down from the cloudless blue sky and landed on the ground to properly congratulate the opposing house. James was the first to approach the Hufflepuff captain and shook his hand with a firm grip before turning away, leading his teammates towards the exit quietly. He had scheduled the field for Quidditch practice almost every week and yet all their hard work were put to the garbage bin, losing more luck to win the house cup this year. He couldn’t accept this defeat at all. As he calculated every single movement that he made during the game, his mind began to retrace its steps and wonder what went wrong.
Or rather, who went wrong.
The team was all appalled at his silence, having been used to hearing him brag or attempt to motivate them when he finally spoke in a deep voice.
“Get changed and come back here for practice tomorrow morning. That’s all,” he was normally not this serious but his expression shook everyone so they decided not to delay and immediately went to the locker room.
(Y/n) was about to slip away to the dormitories to avoid facing her teammates or worse, her own team captain. She didn’t want to see the disappointment written on his face nor did she want to hear him tell her she was going to be replaced especially since she had worked twice as hard just to please him. She took her broomstick with her and made way to the opposite direction when she heard someone clear their throat.
“May I ask where you’re going?” James asked, his hazel eyes on her.
She turned around and looked down, refusing to meet his gaze and mumbled a seemingly believable excuse, “I-I’m going back to the dorm. I left my clothes there and my broomstick needs repair.”
James walked closer to her and inspected her broomstick before smirking, “It looks like it’s in perfect condition. Pity it’s not quick enough.”
“Look, James, it wasn’t her fault-” one of the teammates tried to defend but James glared at him before he could continue.
Everyone was definitely scared now. Famous James Potter and his jokes and pranks, now completely furious over a game. He had every right to be. They were supposed to play against Slytherin and winning against them could only mean championship but now they had to lay back and watch from the benches in agony.
James dismissed the whole team except (Y/n) who shuffled her feet before finally looking at him. Once they were alone, she tried to speak to him in a small and gentle voice but he backed her against the wall with both his hands on each side of her head.
“J-James…what are you doing?”
He leaned in close to her, his forehead pressing against hers before whispering to her lips, “Tell me, do you still need to leave?”
He kissed her softly and ran his other hand down to her waist, slipping them beneath her shirt to feel her skin and moving it to her lower back. He kept his kisses teasingly light and gentle.
She kissed him back and entangled her fingers through his messy black hair when he pulled away and moved close to her ear, hot breaths down her neck.
“Worked so hard for me now, didn’t you, love? Such a sweet girl.”
He planted small kisses down her neck while she moaned pleasingly.
“Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t enough..,” he leaned in close to her ear once more, “But luckily for me, I get to punish you,” he breathed before adding,
“After all, naughty girls ought to be punished now, don’t you think so?”
James smirked and in a quick flash, his lips went back to hers, now harsh and rough. He sucked onto her bottom lip and held her by her thighs, carrying her and allowing her to wrap her legs around him. She was his addiction and all his pent up frustration and sexual desires went straight to her delectable lips, tasting them vigorously. His tongue pried her mouth open, meeting hers halfway, unafraid to show the lust they felt towards each other. He ripped her robe open and peeled it off of her while she removed his, discarding them onto a pile on the floor. He grinded his hard tent against her clothed core, an indication that he wanted her now. His lips left hers immediately and began to trail down on her throat to her collarbone where he nipped and sucked onto her precious skin.
“J-James…Want you now…,” she moaned, making him stop and look back at her.
“You don’t make orders here, (L/n),” he demanded, “Now, take off the rest for me. Wanna see you, dear.”
(Y/n) obeyed and removed her clothes in front of him. James could not keep his eyes off of her the entire time, watching the last bit of fabric fall down to the ground. He took off his sweater as well, revealing his white undershirt that stuck to his muscled body before he walked towards her, pressing her against the wall once more.
“Let’s see how wet you are, doll,” he reached down and trailed his fingers down her underwear, feeling her wet entrance. Without another word, he knelt down slowly and raised her leg over his shoulder, pulling her panties aside and sliding his finger up and down her soaking slit. (Y/n) gasped and did her best to balance as he continued teasing her with his finger. He slipped inside and attached his mouth onto her clit, his finger now moving in and out of her smoothly, all soaked up with her juices.
It was a heavenly feeling to have him down there, finally playing with her and going as far as licking her slit. Apparently, he was not only talented in academics and Quidditch, but he was also talented in combining both his finger and tongue on her. James licked her hungrily and even went as far as sticking his tongue in to taste her, eyes staring right back at her. She grabbed his hair in an effort to get him closer but all it did was make him moan against her slit, sending vibrations that made her call his name desperately.
He pulled away and gave her one long lick before tugging down her panties, exposing her fully to him.
“Sorry, darling. Can’t cum yet. You’ll have to wait,” he smirked while removing his pants together with his boxers, his length all hard and ready for her. He carried her once more in his arms and pressed her against the wall, teasing his tip on her wet entrance.
“Captain…please, I want you,” she moaned, clinging onto him.
“Captain, huh? I like the sound of that,” he said before placing a soft kiss onto her lips and finally entering her in one quick push. He was certainly bigger than she had anticipated but she was definitely not complaining. She loved every hard thrust he gave her, his hands squeezing her ass as he persisted in hitting that glorious spot. Her walls were already tightening around his length and he could almost sense that she was about to cum once more.
He moved her up and down onto his member quickly as he chased his climax, both of them moaning.
“Louder!” He shouted, slapping her ass hard while continuously thrusting into her wet core. His glasses were already fogged from the intensity but he did not care.
“Oh, Captain!” she moaned louder and felt his cock throb inside her, making her release all over him with another moan of his name, nails scratching onto his back.
James pushed inside one last time before he finally came, painting her walls with his seed. He panted heavily and kept her in his arms until they came down from their high.
The two got dressed afterwards and left the room together, their teammates waiting by the door, all of them shocked at what they heard.
“Tomorrow again?” (Y/n) asked James with a smile on her face.
“Certainly. Just don’t practice without me,” he winked before kissing her once more.
“Georgie,” Fred whispered, arching a brow and digging his elbow into his brother’s ribs as soon as they poured out of Filch’s office. “Have a look.”
“Well then,” George remarked, eyeing the worn piece of parchment in his twin’s hand. “A whole drawer of confiscated items and you thought the blank bit of parchment was probably best?” He reached for it, giving it a skeptical once-over. “For this I wasted a dungbomb?”
“A dungbomb at the inconvenience of Filch is never a dungbomb wasted,” Fred told him smartly. “Anyway, considering the drawer, there’s obviously more to it. Unlike you,” he added, nudging him. “Who possess nothing beneath your stunningly handsome facade.”
“A handsomeness that I wear better, by the way,” George assured his twin, not looking up. “Hm,” he murmured to himself. “If it were me, I would- ”
He stopped, frowning in thought.
“Oh good,” Fred said, fighting a yawn. “I was hoping you’d come to an abrupt stop.” He leaned against the wall, kicking one leg out to cross it over the other. “Frankly, if it weren’t for your unerring mystery, I’d have run off a long time ago.”
George raised his wand and tapped it against the parchment. “Revelio,” he muttered, and then watched as a series of words began to spread across the page.