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Summary: James’s wishful thoughts may promise fairy tales and true love, but they forget to mention when something is really not right. Blocking out the voices of reason is no way to wander the intricacies of growing, turbulent feelings.
Possible warnings: Depictions of physical violence caused by magic that went wrong. The person affected by this is hurt. The caster of the spell is DEEPLY regretful and horrified, though. I do not believe the descriptions are too graphic, but I tagged anyway because better safe than sorry. There is also vomiting (accidentally) caused by magic.
Read on AO3
This was written for @theswiftyhallows in this month of May 2025. My song prompt (as you can see) was the Foolish One song from Speak Now (Taylor's Version). There is also an Easter Egg in this fic, which will be revealed if you read (or simply open AO3). I think this is a brilliant fest/challenge, the team is lovely, and it will be going on for quite a while to celebrate all of Taylor's music. If you are a fan (or enjoy writings inspired by her lyrics), you should definitely check the event out!
James Potter slander pisses me off so quick and so easily like shsgtsakgdsudnhdhdgd what do you MEAN the whole world does not agree with my personal headcanons and visions???
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James Sirius Potter is a Taylor Swift fan. It wasn’t Lily Luna who got him into her music, HE got Lily Luna into the music. ‘Love Story’ came out when he was very young, he was obsessed with it at the time, and he never quite stopped listening to Taylor. He didn’t really consider himself a fan until she dropped the Lover album. There was no turning back since then.
Albus pretends it’s very corny and not his taste, but he finds himself humming along to a handful of 1989 songs (he has not found out about evermore yet).
Harry confuses most of the songs and the eras with each other, but he is particularly fond of ‘Cruel Summer’, he says it speaks to him. Ginny enjoys the songs with rock influences (Speak Now would be her preference).
in all seriousness i better not see a single gif of that fuckass harry potter show on this hellsite.
don't make them, don't post them, don't reblog them. just don't give free advertising to a millionaire giddy over stripping trans people of their rights.
You CANNOT separate art from the artist when the artist is still alive and producing new media to profit off.
So on that note, do NOT watch the new Harry Potter series. Do not hate watch it. Do not watch it because “it’s going to be my childhood remade”. I do not care. Do not watch it. This is a direct move to erase the original trio who have all stood against jkr.
summary: albus potter finds himself struggling to open his third eye in divination class
for @taylorswiftmicrofic with the prompt “angel” from last month’s fearless inspired prompts. i had the idea for a while but i hadn’t found the time to write it until now. better late than ever, maybe.
˚ . * · ✵ · · ˚ * . ✵ . · · ˚ * ˚ . * · ✵
Albus drummed his fingers against the small, circular table. His blinking was becoming more prolonged by the second. But the professor was far too enthralled in a dramatic expression of the wonders and perils about opening the third eye. What a bunch of bollocks. He deeply regretted his decision of taking up this class. Divination had seemed easy on paper. A moment to turn his brain off and make up something about the mysterious great beyond. He hated to admit it, but his dad had been right: it was a proper waste of time. It seemed being shit at Divination ran in the family.
Professor Trelawney had attempted to predict his death on the first lesson of the year. She had put on a good show about it, too. Thrown her head to the side, trembling and reaching out to him. Albus had asked if there was something she could do to make his doomsday come faster. She had never mentioned death in the same sentence as his name after that.
“Al? Albus! Albus!” It was not until Rose slammed her palm on the table that he sat up with a shudder. Classmates were chattering and peering over and around their crystal balls. The sermon had ended. Perhaps he had blinked longer than he realised.
“She’s coming over now. You better start having some visions,” Rose advised, her stern tone betraying urgency.
“Why don’t you grace her with yours?” Albus rubbed his eyes, getting rid of their sleepy mist.
“You know she’s asking you over me.”
He puffed his cheeks in a show of profound annoyance but turned to his crystal ball at once. She was right. He was going to get asked, so he might just start inventing shapes in that indifferent fog within the sphere. Not ten seconds later, Trelawney’s stiff hand was on his shoulder.
“What is it, dear? What do you see?”
Albus schooled his expression to remain neutral, narrowing his green eyes and staring hard. His efforts were to no avail. He was starting to thread his story about seeing a doe jumping across cherry bushes, when suddenly, there was something. Through the obstructive mist , Albus saw it. A human figure. He could not make out distinctive features, but the figure radiated a soft, golden glow from its contours. The hair, however, was almost as light and shiny as silver.
His mind drew an instinctive conclusion in a bewildered whisper. “An angel.”
“Sorry, Professor. Truly. Couldn’t stop sneezing, the incense triggers my allergies, I think…” Came Scorpius Malfoy’s apologetic voice as he stood at the door, pushing his blonde hair away from his eyes.
Albus felt a hard knot tying into his stomach. He sank in his seat, cheeks burning and finding himself believing in divinity as he prayed to Hecate to give him anonymity just one time.
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There is nothing like the simple, undeniable joy of receiving flowers as a gift.
5 times James Sirius Potter gifted flowers to people in his life that he appreciates. 1 time the gesture is directed towards him instead.
stormborns
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
snowghoul
germansingergirl
titsay
areudirty
