#hehashereyes

VI Quote of the Week:

She knew all these things and could speak of them with conviction, and yet… Her hands tightened on Remus’s clothes and she buried her face at his shoulder again, eyes tightly closed against the tears threatening to overwhelm her. “I don’t doubt James, I just doubt the rest of the world… Remy, I doubt everything else, and then I feel awful because I shouldn’t be doubting and then I feel even more awful because he’s not the only one…”                                                       -- hehashereyes, Friends in Dark Times

Admin Picks of the Week:

“I can plant some evidence if you need me to.” Gideon replied dryly. “I’m a politician, turning and twisting things that don’t fit into my plan until they do is sort of my job.” At least on the bad days. Millicent had decided from the very beginning of her campaign, that honesty should be their motto, that she wouldn’t lie or cover up the truth in pretty words, even if it would make running for office twice as hard for her. Gideon appreciated that. It had been the reason why he’d wanted to work for her. And they were planning on holding onto it, no matter how difficult it was going to be.                                               -- gidconprcwctt, Ghost of Christmas Present

“I’m very proud of you.” The words were spoken so softly and so suddenly that, at first, all Edgar could do was lower the camera and stare at his mother.

Throughout his childhood, he’d been constantly corrected or told off. Through Hogwarts, he was always being asked, “Why couldn’t you be more like your brother?” and told that with his attitude he would never amount to anything. Even when he found himself a decent career he had to listen to endless lectures about how his work was useless and would never pay enough to support a family. He’d never heard her say the words, ‘I’m proud of you’. For a second he doubted his translation, wondering if he’d forgotten Italian so much that he’d messed it up somehow, but he knew that wasn’t true.                                                       -- edgarbonesknows, Words Unspoken

Marlene McKinnon + Lily Potter Moodboard (1/?):

“Wanna make some noise-really raise my voice Yeah, I wanna scream and shout”.  

-Shania Twain, Man! I Feel Like A Woman.

Daisy always found it weird, being in Hogsmeade when the village wasn’t crammed full of students. She’d spent six years only ever visiting the town on Hogsmeade weekends, along with hundreds of other students, when it was virtually impossible to get a table in the Three Broomsticks.

The pub was fairly busy tonight, but far from the crowded of a Hogsmeade weekend, and Daisy had managed to grab a table near a window. She was sitting there now, leaning on one elbow as she flicked through her Charms textbook. Her school friends were probably all studying right now, too, up in the castle. That was probably where she ought to be.

She wasn’t, though, she was here. She was an adult— albeit an unqualified and unemployed one— and she was going to spend her evening in the pub, not pouring over her textbook! Yes, okay, she was pouring over it now, but that was only while she waited for Lily to get here. Once her friend arrived it was going to be stuffed unceremoniously into her bag.

Remus Lupin: A Hideous Sweater Collection.

VI Quote of the Week:

What the fuck just happened? His brain tried to pull itself from the blackness and piece enough gears back together to generate a thought process. They were winning, or so it seemed. His throat tickled again, and he coughed and swore. Think, think. It was hard to concentrate enough, like waking up with a really fucking bad hangover.                                                       -- head-auror-moody, Under the Rubble

Admin Picks of the Week:

He sighed at the ‘mindin’ me own business’.  “If I had a knut fer every time I’ve heard that one mate, I’d need another bloody vault at Gringotts,” he grumbled as he continued to clean.                                                                        -- folly-of-arrogance, Coffee?

The library might have lacked the dark wooded warmth of the one at Black Manor, and at times, might have seemed rather cold with its stark whites and soaring ceilings, but it was also a small piece of heaven. The light would hit the marble just right and shimmer off of the gilded ornamentations of the shelf. The Malfoy library was much grander than that of the Blacks, and much lighter. Aged pastel frescoes lit up the ceiling, a glance of color against gild and marble whereas the Black library had been cozy, warm light, dark woods and persian rugs. For all the ways it differed from what she knew as a child, there was a type of purity in the Malfoy library that was untouched by the world, a sanctuary in a different way than the library at Black Manor had been.  It had taken getting used to, as many things had after her marriage.                                -- forever-toujourspur, Don’t Need Another Perfect Lie