I CANNOT BELIEV
HOW DUMB IS TEXAS
I CANNOT BELIEV
HOW DUMB IS TEXAS
At twilight on August the 25th 1999, one week before classes were to begin, Hermione Granger Apparated into Hogsmeade, a wand box clutched under her arm.
Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for her outside the Three Broomsticks. The two women greeted each other warmly, and then set off towards the castle. Or rather, towards the grounds outside the castle.
They chatted amiably as they strolled towards the groundskeeper’s hut. Hagrid, sitting outside and darning a pair of enormous socks, looked up as they approached.
“Good evenin’ Headmistress, Hermione,” he said with some gruff surprise.
“Good evening, Hagrid,” replied McGonagall. “May we go inside? I believe Hermione has a proposition to discuss with you.”
If you had stood outside the hut as the evening darkened and the stars rose into the sky, you’d have heard the rumblings of an argument coming from inside the hut. You’d have heard Hagrid’s gruff refusals, Hermione’s calm (and then not so calm) rebuttals, and the very occasional interjection of the Headmistress.
Hermione did not emerge until the moon had fully risen and darkness enveloped the grounds. But in the light of the nearly full moon, you could see a smile on her face.
The Shrieking Shack was no longer widely believed to be haunted, now that the story of Remus Lupin was fully known. Still, the residents of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts avoided it out of a mixture of respect and residual fear.
This suited Hermione perfectly. The interior of the Shack was now stacked with books and bottles of potion ingredients. A cauldron sat in the corner, a telescope pointed out a cracked window, and cushions lined one wall. A table was covered in parchment, broken quills, ink pots and stains. Once a week, Hermione would apparate into the Shack and go over her notes from the previous session while she awaited her student’s arrival.
Sometimes he was late without explanation. Sometimes he would bring a wounded bowtruckle he wasn’t comfortable leaving on its own. Sometimes Fang would follow him and sit in the corner whining while his master sweated and cursed over a cauldron. Hermione was calm but firm, making adjustments as needed and letting Hagrid’s frustrated words roll off her back like water droplets.
The Hogsmeade residents may have turned a blind eye to the goings-on in the Shrieking Shack, but that didn’t mean they weren’t relieved as time went on and there were fewer and fewer roars of anger echoing through the village.
The OWL testers had been warned in advance that they would have an unusual student that year. That didn’t mean they weren’t taken aback when Rubeus Hagrid appeared on their testing scrolls. They all knew of him of course, knew the role he played in the Second War and of the false accusations leveled against him.
They were worried they would have to be kind.
They needn’t have. No one could have Hermione Granger teach them personally for a year and not improve in all aspects. His potions may not have been textbook perfection, he may not have fully transfigured his toad, but Hagrid had clearly worked hard to master his long dormant abilities.
Rubeus Hagrid may not have followed the traditional path to wisdom. But he had a new wand, the (sometimes grudging) respect of his peers, classes to teach and 6 OWLs.
Including the highest score ever recorded on Care of Magical Creatures.
(written and submitted by ppyajunebug; please excuse me, because I have something in my eye. Oh yes, it is my joyful tears. ppyajunebug has a way of bringing those out of me, you see. Their submissions tackle some of the saddest moments in canon, turning them around and making something beautiful out of them.)
THIS WAS SO STINKIN CUTE EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND READ THIS
This appeared on my dash and I smiled. I’m glad it’s still going around, and that people are still affected by it! Definitely the most popular thing I’ve ever written…
my anaconda don’t
my anaconda don’t
my anaconda don’t want none unless you got a violent temper, a billowy coat, an obsession with mud, and a desire to steal my family’s house, money and name
( ಠ◡ಠ )
Catherine Earnshaw’s got a type, yo.
my senior quote
does anybody else think tired and sleepy mean two totally different things
sleepy is cute and dozing off and happy but tired is 10 cups of coffee and murder
Oh god guys. JK Rowling is a genius, and so is this person.
the thing I love about this fandom is that there are 7 books and 8 movies to observe. so every once in a while some blessed soul finds a piece of information that makes all the magic resurface again
Oh Lord…it’s a metaphor too. It’s symbolic of Neville holding on to his past, the horrors of what happened to his parents, of being a passive vessel for that atrocity. As if the terrible thing kept happening and would never stop happening.
When he moves forward and becomes part of his own story instead of the story of his past, his strength surges.
TEAM NEVILLE FOR LIFE
It also shows that if you give a kid the wrong tool, he may be a genius but he’s never going to be able to build something with it.
Someone is reading a #book, somewhere in Holland Village, near Singapore http://ebks.to/1o4QgBS
harry potter and the chamber of secrets
I’ll come back for you i whisper as i caress the books i can’t afford
Watching hp 2.
Draco gets THE NEXT ATEP UP in brooms just to piss of potter
“Eat slugs” is apparently an actual spell