Wild*

Sara Lance Appreciation Week 

imagine mcgonagall seeing james sirius potter’s name on the hogwarts list and groaning while expecting a prankster because everyone is

harry and ginny have taken a lot of care to keep their kids out of the public eye, and all the grainy photos that gossip rags have of them just show a skinny kid who’s always conveniently hidden just behind ginny, so no one knows a single thing about this kid besides what his parents have told them— he likes playing chaser, just like his mum, and refuses to eat candy that isn’t green and very much likes his aunt hermione

and then, when they finally hear mcgonagall call his name at the sorting, this skinny little nerd baby with these ridiculous rectangular glasses and his mother’s eyes stumbles up to the hat, grinning like he’s just had the world handed to him, and doesn’t get sorted into gryffindor

imagine all the professors, who were expecting james potter junior to be a miniature version of his grandfather, very much confused when he became the first potter or weasley in ages to be anywhere but gryffindor

imagine how the portraits talked, how it must feel to be eleven years old and have the eyes of the world on you just for being someone’s son and grandson, and hearing people discuss you like you’re not good enough just because you are not the same type of brave that people are familiar with

imagine mcgonagall calling him in for tea one day because why the hell not and listening to james go on and on about the books he’s found and the friends he’s made and how hogwarts, although a little daunting, is way cooler than mum and dad ever made it out to be

imagine the first time mcgonagall tells him that he’s more like lily than james and imagine the feeling of pride that warms up every single inch of him because he has spent his whole life trying to escape from james potter’s shadow and this is proof, from someone who knew him, that he isn’t his grandfather all over again

Yesterday I died,

tomorrow’s bleeding

fall into your sunlight

the future’s open wide,