blizzard;

“mollywobbles,” whispered a mortified mrs. weasley into the crack at the edge of the door.

“When Rose came up to me today in Potions and called me Bread Head I almost hugged her. No, there’s no almost about it, I actually tried to hug her, and then she kicked me in the shin.”

i was okay just a moment ago. i will learn how to be okay again.

Albus, Rose, Hugo, and Lily laughed. The train began to move, and Harry walked alongside it, watching his son’s thin face, already ablaze with excitement. Harry kept smiling and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching his son glide away from him… The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry’s hand was still raised in farewell. “He’ll be all right,” murmured Ginny. As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absentmindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead. “I know he will.” The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

Though this may be the case, they, too, chose chose to stay. (x)

(j.t)

By Gryffindor, the bravest were Prized far beyond the rest; For Ravenclaw, the cleverest Would always be the best; For Hufflepuff, hardworkers were Most worthy of admission; And power-hungry Slytherin Loved those of great ambition.

                                                          [ insp. ]

no, i think iʹll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up… it always does in the end.

“Fight, fight for my master, the defender of the House elves. Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!”

it sounded kind enough, but matthias knew that nina would be familiar with the rest of it. 

requested by anon

I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts— Hear, hear.

I think I can handle myself

— When there was a Stark in Winterfell, a maiden girl could walk down the kingsroad in her name-day gown and still go unmolested, and travelers could find fire, bread, and salt at many an inn and holdfast. But the nights are colder now, and doors are closed … It was different when there was a Stark in Winterfell. But the old wolf’s dead and young one’s gone south to play the game of thrones, and all that’s left us is the ghosts. The wolves will come again. And how would you be knowing, boy? I dreamed it.