I Think Another Big Thing With The Weasleys Kids Is The Age Breakdown. Percy Is Closer In Age To Ginny

Teddy: You made a lot of people around here uncomfortable.

James: That’s because they’re a bunch of bitch ass white boys.

Teddy: I hate to break it to you, but you are also a bitch ass white boy.

Probably James Sirius Studying

James : "Okay I'll start studying at 8:00."

*some time goes by*

*time is 8:01*

James : "Oh well, I missed it, I'll start at 9:00 then"

Random Teddy/James headcanons….

James won’t let anyone call him anything except James, except for Teddy who has about 100 different nicknames and terms of endearment for him and is the only one who would ever get away with it

Teddy always has chocolate in his pockets, and sometimes he forgets about it until after things have gotten a bit hot and heavy with James and he finds the melted sweets.  James always laughs at him, taking Teddy’s fingers with a wicked smile and licking it off.

James loves Teddy’s appearance, loves his piercings and tattoos and his wild hair.  It’s so unaffectedly Teddy; its bold and unforgettable.  But his favorite is when Teddy is sleeping, when everything sort of slips away and he’s so relaxed, his hair its natural plain brown and his face so relaxed.  James loves him like this the most not because he’s less of anything, but because James knows he is the only one who gets to see him like this.

No matter how old James get, or how long they date, he never seems to get tired of broomstick innuendo, sliding up behind Teddy at family dinners and gleefully whispering “Wanna go for a ride on my broom, Lupin?”

James has no shame. At all.  It isn’t long before the family stops looking for them when they go missing on holidays or celebrations because they already know what they’re likely to stumble upon.

No matter how much James pretends not to be sappy or sentimental, Teddy knows it isn’t true.  Teddy knows he keeps a box hidden under the bed with cards and travel tickets and little things Teddy has given him.

Teddy isn’t sentimental, not the way James is.  He doesn’t need bold romantic declarations and he doesn’t keep cards and letters.  All he needs is James, right beside him, all he needs is one touch or kiss to remember everything.

theoi as Aesthetics™ cause i feel like it ig

Zeus

sunlight beaming through dark clouds, cold winds that burn your cheeks, lightning that illuminates the sky for just a fraction of a second, strong wings and sharp talons

Hera

golden rings slightly dulled after years of wear, lotus flowers floating upon pools of water, wedding gifts wrapped in gold paper, peacock feathers that glimmer in the sun

Poseidon

jagged rocks decorated by barnacles and seaweed, clouds of sand kicked up by a horse galloping across a seashore, rusted old treasures lost to the deep ocean, waves that lap gently over the sand or crash fiercely against the rocks

Haides

large dogs bearing sharp teeth, old coins blackened and rusted by time, animal bones half-buried under dark soil, silver rings on pallid fingers

Demeter

long grass brushing against your legs, freshly baked bread in a wicker picnic basket, golden honeycomb, fields of grain ready for harvest

Aphrodite

lipstick stains in shades of red and pink, doves perched upon blossoming branches, love letters written in smudged red ink, the opalescent underside of a scallop shell

Apollo

crowns of bay leaves resting on curly hair, golden instruments polished until gleaming, poems scrawled on walls in marker pen, bandages carefully wrapped over wounds

Artemis

feather-tipped arrows, flowers and leaves braided into a wreath, deer drinking from a brook in the forest, moonlight shining through the evergreen branches of tall trees

Ares

bandages over bruised and scratched knuckles, flaming molotovs soaring through the air, crossed swords mounted on old walls, fading scars that stretch across shoulder blades

Athena

books with creased spines and dog-eared pages, owls with thick feathers and wide eyes, ornate swords and shields from ancient eras long forgotten, sharp eyes full of wisdom and knowledge

Dionysos

limbs tangled in red velvet sheets, wild and uncontrolled laughter, garlands of ivy and purple flowers, red wine spilling over the glass, kissing the lips of marble statues

Hephaestos

gears that fit together like puzzle pieces, the soft crackling of a fire, palms stained with oil and soot, the methodic clanking of iron hitting iron, gifts of handmade jewellery

Hermes

shoes worn through from walking, antique maps and globes and golden compasses, a messenger bag filled with letters and parcels, sly smiles and deft hands

Hestia

warm clean sheets, a small vase of flowers on the windowsill, warming your hands near the fireplace, cups of tea and home-baked fairycakes

On Anthony Goldstein: Judaism in the Potterverse

[NOTE: I don’t know why I have been obsessed with this for like, the last week, but I have, so here you go. Also, I cannot believe an Anthony Goldstein tag actually exists on Tumblr. When I despair, I am reminded that no one quite obsesses over barely-extant characters like the HP fandom, and I love them for it.]

I find Anthony Goldstein a really fascinating way to think about the way that a Jewish character would fit into the wider spectrum of the magical world as realized by JK Rowling. On the surface, it shouldn’t matter. A Jew should’t be any different from any other minority culture shoved into Ravenclaw (which for what it’s worth seems to be the house that stereotypically high-achieving minorities get sorted into). And yet it’s a question worth thinking about, particularly because Rowling’s world is constructed on notions specifically Christian in character.

This largely boils down to the struggle of Absolute Good vs Absolute Evil, with terms of morality used as alternative names for God and Satan, two independent forces in eternal opposition.  This dichotomy isn’t really a thing in Judaism (Satan is understood as an agent of God). The books are ultimately framed in the context of this struggle, from the world building to Harry’s personal coming of age and fight against Voldemort. It is the very foundation of British Wizarding culture, and to not proscribe to this view would leave someone like Anthony Goldstein permanently alienated.  

Culture clash would arise for Goldstein out of such things as the notion of ‘the Dark Arts.’ In traditional Potterverse, the Dark Arts are 'Dark’ because of some evil that seems inherent in the nature of the creature/spell. The reaction toward such magic is 'defense,’ by either learning how to beat the creatures, or counteract the spellwork. Judaism would not, arguably, make the distinction between good and evil magic in such terms. They would not be mutually exclusive. Magic would be considered evil in the context of its practitioner, not so much in the particulars of a spell or beast. Specifically, magic would be primarily understood as evil if the one who uses it does so to render himself a God-like figure. The ramifications of this would be subtle but significant. Voldemort, for instance, would be evil not because of the magic that he uses, but because he uses it with the intent to elevate himself above the condition of man, and exact powers that humanity should not possess.

This would give rise to the question of whether any sort of magical power is permissible for humans, a question that I could see being an ongoing concern for Goldstein, particularly as he presumably lacks the presence and affirmation of other Jewish wizards in Hogwarts. I could  see Goldstein as someone predisposed to disciplines that require an individual to not see himself or herself in inherent opposition with a type of magic, such as Care of Magical Creatures.

Jewish tradition has a history of magic different from that of medieval Britain, from which a lot of the stock images and sentiment in Potterverse arises. Rather than identifying with Merlin, or the Witches burned at the stake, a Jewish wizard might instead look instead to the 'miracles’ of certain medieval Rabbis, or Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel and the Golem of Prague, or King Solomon. Demons instead of Goblins as the morally ambiguous, humanoid figure. Dybbuks instead of Boggarts. Magic derived from Hebrew as opposed to Latin. There is the potential that Goldstein would find himself, or his family, identifying with a magical past and identity that would have very little to do with that adopted by British wizardry, and by extension Hogwarts as a community and educational establishment. 

Then of course there is the fun of parsing apart the whose and wheres of Anthony Goldstein. Is he a North London Jew?  The next generation of an old British family? Or apart of one of the twentieth century Jewish-immigration waves? Is there a wider Jewish Wizarding community, or is he an anomaly? The last of a tradition? Judaism’s rich tradition of fantasy storytelling and folktales were largely wiped out along with the rural European communities that fostered them, so it wouldn’t be far-fetched that if there was a larger Jewish Wizarding community, it had all but vanished after the Holocaust, and that people like Goldstein represent what remains of a nearly-extinct subculture. 

 Anti-Semitism was historically a feature of elite British boarding schools, and it would not be unreasonable to assume that it would extend to magical ones, especially seeing as there is even less of an established Jewish presence in the magical community than the muggle one.  

Anthony Goldstein would likely never have a place where he could realize himself fully, constantly requiring to either subdue his magic, or his Jewishness in turn. He would find himself alienated on a fundamental level with the British magical community, and would be plagued by doubt when it came to the practice of magic. He would be perceptive and capable at communicating with magical non-humans, and would not see magic as a source of darkness, but the human thirst for power. He would distrust magical assertions of authority, and would find himself burdened with a past that his education has not equipped him to fully understand. 

Harry: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me.

James: Okay, but in my defense, Teddy bet me five sickles I couldn’t drink all that shampoo.

Harry: That’s not what I-

Harry: You drank shampoo?!

Shakespeare Gothic

You were born on a ship at sea. No one survived the wreck but you. Or so you’ve been told. 

Your father has been dead for months, and your mother has remarried. He still comes to dinner every night and sits in his usual chair. Nobody can see him but you.

Your last lover disappeared. They told you she died, but they never let you see the body. The statue in the churchyard looks just like her.

Your pale white hands are stained with red. You wash them and wash them and wash them, but they will never be clean.

You find an infant abandoned on the beach. Your country does not have a coastline. You do not know where this ocean or this infant came from, and you do not ask.

The owls and ravens shriek wordlessly in the night, but you ignore their warnings. They are always shrieking about something.

You visit a faraway city where you have never been before. Everyone there knows your name.

You wake up alone in the woods. You have no memory of how you got there. You hear fey fairy laughter and someone singing in the darkness. You feel woozy, as if you’ve been drugged.

A girl you loved once tries to return your letters, even though you never wrote her any. Clearly she belongs in a convent. You burst into her bedroom half-dressed to tell her so.

You are invited to a ball and you go, despite the strange feeling that Death will find you if you do. You wear a mask. Death is not fooled.

Your young cousins went to visit their uncle last month. He says they never arrived, but you saw them playing in the garden. Nobody else has seen them since.

It is time for you to be married, but first your suitors must answer a riddle. If they guess wrongly, they die. Your love cannot save them. 

There is a storm on the heath. You do not know what a heath is, and you do not care. You are mad. You are naked. You are dancing in the rain. The storm never ends. 

okay but...

Harry insists on buying a CD player for his home in London with Ginny. 

Curious, he buys her a CD, one that he knows a lot of Muggle girls like but he’s only ever heard in passing. (He’s had Dark Lords and Death Eaters to worry about, you know.) 

And within minutes he regrets his life choices because Ginny is rocking out to “I Want It That Way” by some boy band called the Backstreet Boys on repeat. 

She asks Hermione about them and they buy every single boy band album from the 80′s on. 

They continue this for several years as new albums come out and Harry has more or less given Ginny the CD player. 

(Not that he particularly minds because she’s actually kind of cute when she’s dancing and singing along with a young Teddy and she doesn’t think he’s looking.)

She puts headphones on her pregnant belly and tells James Sirius Potter that he’s going to be such a charmer. 

Harry protests that she’s going to brainwash their baby before he’s even born but when has she ever taken his half-hearted arguments seriously? 

Eighteen years later James Sirius is tall and broad, a chiseled mix of Bill’s height and Fred and George’s stockiness, and singing some song that he’s heard Ginny hum before and Teddy pretends he isn’t watching him with a lopsided smile. 

James pretends that Teddy isn’t pretending to watch him

Harry pretends that he isn’t seeing them silently flirt and mumbles to Ginny that it’s all her fault with a light smile on his face. 

Ginny laughs and continues braiding Lily Luna’s hair. 

“But he’s charming, isn’t he?” 

Harry looks up from his morning paper just in time to see James Sirius holding out a sunflower he conjured in his palm to Teddy and Teddy rolling his eyes despite his blush. 

“Oh, he’s good.” 

“And you said I was brainwashing him.” 

They share a glance and laugh together quietly, happy that their son is boy band trash/a romantic sap.

“God, how painful it is, being angry.”

— Simone de Beauvoir, tr. by Justin O’Brien, from “The Woman Destroyed,”

History of Magic Meme: [½] Founders → Helga Hufflepuff

“Sweet Hufflepuff from valley broad“