The time when Harry and Malfoy are surprisingly domestic; And Ron nearly cannot process that :
Ron would never believe what he was seeing before his eyes.
Malfoy lived in a studio flat now, Harry had said. They had buried their old rivalry now, Harry had said. Harry was quite taken up with the blond ferret git now, he had said.
What Ron expected though, was certainly not this.
Upon stepping out of the floo into the living room, Hermione in tow, Ron’s brows began to furrow in confusion. The sight which welcomed him was a large, spacey room with sparsely furniture covering its white marble floor. The fireplace behind him cackles loudly, illuminating the huge wooden table in the middle of the room etched with meticulously designed carvings. The room was dimly lit otherwise, an open kitchen to the corner of the flat and paintings decorating the ivory coloured walls, family heirlooms floating along a corridor leading to a door which could only be the bathroom. At a side, a sofa with golden trimmings sat.
When Harry said studio flat, Ron did not expect this large, posh room with space enough to host a party. But of course, he wouldn’t expect less with Malfoy. If Malfoy was to live in a studio flat, it would be a mansion studio.
But what Ron really didn’t expect, was the sight before him. On the bed. An odd feeling welled up within Ron, as he felt his chest had ceased working to take breaths in. He felt like he was intruding into a fantasy bubble.
Because before him, Malfoy was perched in the middle a king size bed which was placed several feet off the ground on a small platform, half lying against the wall behind him. With one hand, he was flipping a book casually held in it, and the other hand…was currently wrapped protectively around the figure basically on top on him.
Ron could recognize that nest of messy dark hair anywhere, having known his best friend for a decade and said best friend’s profile always plastered on posters. What he could not begin to process, was that Harry was currently lying face down, sprawled across Malfoy, snoring softly. His face was buried deep against Malfoy’s collar bone, arms loosely clutching the body under him, in his, apparently, deep slumber. Malfoy’s chin was resting gently atop Harry’s head, eyes peering down at his book in concentration. A comfortable-looking duvet was thrown across both of their bodies, covering Harry waist down. Malfoy’s arms were left out.
What slightly unnerved Ron was, the both of them looked so cozy that it seemed like they had resumed the same position for the millionth time. Ron has no idea that this was the definition of “taken up”.
Hearing commotion, Malfoy eventually lifted his head up from his literature. He blinked at the couple before him for a moment, sighed, but not unkindly, then shifted.
To Ron’s slight horror, the ferret shut his book after marking his place in it, throwing it to a side, then used his now free hand to…begin slipping it into the head of dark hair resting on his chest. His fingers moved smoothly, tangling in the messiness. Ron looked on as Malfoy slowly caressed and massaged the scalp.
Then Malfoy began speaking, in the most gentle tone Ron had heard the git used that lacked every ounce of bitterness that he was familiar with. “Love, get up. They’re here.”
Gradually, the still figure on him began to stir. Clinging to Malfoy yet, he reached up to rub a fist into his eyes. Harry was not wearing his glasses, Ron noticed. Malfoy smiled down at him affectionately, a smile so secretive that Ron was not sure that he should be allowed to watch. Uneasiness in him remained, he watched on. Malfoy thumbed away a strand of hair which was blocking Harry’s face, cupping the cheeks in a light grasp and pressed a kiss to the scarred forehead, rousing his lover to wakefulness. Ron inhaled sharply.
Harry made a noise of confusion, but got up from his spot previously basically stuck to Malfoy. He staggered up, stepping down from the platform of the bed, which made him stand taller than Malfoy’s sitting form. A side of his face was red with imprints from being pressed to Malfoy’s shirt. Malfoy looked up at him with an almost fond, open expression on his face, soft smile still lingering. They started a what seemed like silent conversation with glances, or so Ron assumed, before Harry pointed a thumb towards the corridor. Malfoy nodded. “Go, shoo,” He said, waving a hand.
Then he turned to Ron and Hermione, acknowledging them for the first time since they got into the flat. “Sorry about that,” He said, with no intention of moving from the bed, “Poor one was working himself exhausted from doing overtime the whole week. He thought he could stay awake. I bet he can’t.” He gave a polite but slightly smug grin to Ron, and Ron suddenly found everything surreal.
/* /* /*
“Aww,” Hermione whispered beside him while they all wait for Harry to come out of the bathroom, “Aren’t they so cute?”
“Yeah,” Ron found himself agreeing, his voice faint to his own ears, “Which is exactly the issue here. What the hell was that?”
In Harry Potter universe Ministry of Magic can detect magic use but can’t find Death Eaters this way. It’s probably because storebought wands are collecting and selling your data and Death Eaters are rooting & jailbreaking to remove MagicFacebook. Ollivander is the Mark Zuckerberg of HP Universe.
Nah. A more accurate analogy would be the scar horcrux, collecting and passing on information on Harry Potter to Voldy until Harry ‘rooted and jailbroke’ it by going to get himself killed.
The Ministry of Magic just detects magic AROUND wizard kids age 11-16 via use of a charm. If the kid lives with muggles, barring the presence of a house elf, it’s not rocket science to work out who used magic. If the kid lives with adult wizards, they’re exempt from the charm because the adults’ magic will interfere with it, so the adults are expected to keep the kid’s magic use under control. The Death Eaters being a) adult wizards or b) child wizards who live with adult wizards…
What if Harry just obliviated Voldemort and none of the death eaters knew it happened so Harry just went about living a normal life and Voldemort was confused as to why all these people in weird masks kept trying to talk to him
Gilderoy Lockhart Potter, you are named after a Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, who taught me the most important skill I ever needed to know.
Harry had a hope. It was a small one, perhaps even subconscious. When “Obliviate” tumbled out of his mouth, half-intended, half-… something else, he was more surprised than Voldemort (but only for a moment).
Obliviation teeters on the edge of a Curse, you see, and all Curses are of semi-sentient nature. Obliviation is hungry. It is a void, a pit, and an abyss that consumes without end, and hungers for memory. The stronger that memory the more eager the spell is to consume. The more attached one was to that memory, the faster it would slip loose. That is why muggle memories of magical sights excise so cleanly, and why Gilderoy Lockhart’s method had worked for so long.
The Obliviation saw Voldemort’s mind laid bare, and hungered. Voldemort saw the blast of golden nothingness, and quailed. The only defense was to shed attachment, desire, ambition, and most of all trauma. He could not do that, not in ten thousand lifetimes and certainly not in a tenth of a second.
Gold light enveloped green, feeding on the hateful source of that Curse. Green died out. Obliviation shined around Voldemort and ate, and ate, and ate, and found a final end when the mind was void of any real ‘memory’, anything he valued or desired.
A pale, disfigured, man stumbled backward and sat down. Everything around him was loud and terrifying. He could scarcely breathe, every gasp or inhalation choking him with smoke and ash. He saw a young man with kind eyes looking down at him. “Young man – I – Young man, I think I’ve been hurt.”
“It’s alright, sir. Do you know where you are? Who you are?” Asked the green-eyed lad. So kind, so very kind.
“I- … No. No I don’t. Good lord… No I don’t!” He tried to stand, but found he was nearly frozen with chill. “What on earth is happening?”
“You’ve had a bit of a knock on the head. It’ll be alright once we get you seen to.” The young man said, helping the poor fellow to his feet. Harry had a hope, a small and nearly subconscious one, that this time Tom Riddle could start fresh. Perhaps a few people could understand that he was no more Voldemort than Mr. Lockhart was … who he was before. That the twisted thing at Kings Cross would not be anyone’s future.
What few Death Eaters were left felt their Dark Marks writhe and dissipate. The Curse that forged them forgotten, the power that bound them unraveled.
In the years after no one dared try and ‘reeducate’ their Dark Lord. His therapy went well, and carefully. He knew he had done terrible things “before”, and could not find that terribleness in himself any longer. He had made what amends he could, but whatever sins had been secret were gone forever. He never hid away, and would apologize freely, sincerely, to anyone who asked it. Over time everyone had grown used to him, though it was still a great shock when they would see him sitting at a table in Diagon Alley sharing tea with a young man with kind, green, eyes.
Headcanon that an outraged 6-year-old Charlie Weasley writes to an elderly Newt Scamander wanting to know why Gringotts keeps a dragon locked up underground and begging him to fix it. Newt writes back saying that sadly he’s been fighting that fight for years and no one ever wants to listen to him because the powerful families whose money is being kept safe by the dragon always shut him down, and that Charlie is the first person he’s heard of who’s as angry as he is about it. Charlie decides that day to dedicate his life to finding out everything he can about dragons so that one day he can free the poor Gringotts dragon. After the war, when they hear that Harry, Ron and Hermione freed the dragon, they celebrate and immediately begin petitioning to have it made illegal to imprison dragons so that nothing like that ever happens again. It’s only when Hermione becomes Minister that it’s finally signed into law.
This is the best Harry Potter headcanon I’ve ever seen
yes yes yes
Just imagine how that conversation would go though, like Charlie’s been learning about dragons his whole life, studying them, learning about the laws surrounding them, practising the jailbreak of dragons by smuggling one out of Hogwarts, preparing for the moment when, one day, he can free the Ukrainian Ironbelly from Gringotts.
And Ron’s like “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it—we broke into Gringotts and used him as our get-away vehicle. He’s just chilling in the wilds somewhere now so, yeah. Job done.”
I want an AU where Ron, completely convinced that he’s overshadowed by all his brothers and will never be as remarkable or as well-recognised as any of them, just accidentally achieves all of their major life goals without noticing. They’re all super jealous and think of him as The Golden Brother and he’s completely clueless.
I’m not sure this is an AU to be honest. I mean:
Bill Weasley: Curse-breaker, works for Gringotts breaking into cursed tombs and distributing valuables to heirs. Ron Weasley both broke into Gringotts itself and destroyed the ultimate cursed object, a Horcrux. Check.
Charlie Weasley: Aforementioned dragon stuff. Check.
Percy Weasley: Social climber, status seeker, desperate for attention and approval from his superiors. Ron: Literally married to the actual Minister of Magic. Check.
Someone else add on to this with Weasley-twin eclipsing stunts and hijinks, I’m sure there are some but my brain isn’t thinking of them right now.
Charlie:
Weasley twins: try to break every rule, cause chaos at Hogwarts
Ron: flys a car into a tree, enters the forbidden forest multiple times, breaks into the Department of Mysteries, literally starts a fucking war at Hogwarts. Check.
Headcanon that an outraged 6-year-old Charlie Weasley writes to an elderly Newt Scamander wanting to know why Gringotts keeps a dragon locked up underground and begging him to fix it. Newt writes back saying that sadly he’s been fighting that fight for years and no one ever wants to listen to him because the powerful families whose money is being kept safe by the dragon always shut him down, and that Charlie is the first person he’s heard of who’s as angry as he is about it. Charlie decides that day to dedicate his life to finding out everything he can about dragons so that one day he can free the poor Gringotts dragon. After the war, when they hear that Harry, Ron and Hermione freed the dragon, they celebrate and immediately begin petitioning to have it made illegal to imprison dragons so that nothing like that ever happens again. It’s only when Hermione becomes Minister that it’s finally signed into law.
This is the best Harry Potter headcanon I’ve ever seen
yes yes yes
Just imagine how that conversation would go though, like Charlie’s been learning about dragons his whole life, studying them, learning about the laws surrounding them, practising the jailbreak of dragons by smuggling one out of Hogwarts, preparing for the moment when, one day, he can free the Ukrainian Ironbelly from Gringotts.
And Ron’s like “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it—we broke into Gringotts and used him as our get-away vehicle. He’s just chilling in the wilds somewhere now so, yeah. Job done.”
I want an AU where Ron, completely convinced that he’s overshadowed by all his brothers and will never be as remarkable or as well-recognised as any of them, just accidentally achieves all of their major life goals without noticing. They’re all super jealous and think of him as The Golden Brother and he’s completely clueless.
I’m not sure this is an AU to be honest. I mean:
Bill Weasley: Curse-breaker, works for Gringotts breaking into cursed tombs and distributing valuables to heirs. Ron Weasley both broke into Gringotts itself and destroyed the ultimate cursed object, a Horcrux. Check.
Charlie Weasley: Aforementioned dragon stuff. Check.
Percy Weasley: Social climber, status seeker, desperate for attention and approval from his superiors. Ron: Literally married to the actual Minister of Magic. Check.
Someone else add on to this with Weasley-twin eclipsing stunts and hijinks, I’m sure there are some but my brain isn’t thinking of them right now.
i’m just sitting here dying of laughter thinking about McGonagall looking over Harry in first year like yeah the kid gets into some dangerous shenanigans but it always seems to be for a greater purpose and his heart’s in the right place and he’s so sweet and quiet usually, clearly he takes after his mother Lily thank goodness this is good this boy is good
and then dead ass one year later kid shows up to school crashing into a tree with his bestie in a flying car instead of just owling the damn school that they’d missed the train and she’s just like DING DONG I WAS WRONG
a harry potter au where potions is taught by gordon ramsay
neville: *messes up his potion*
gordon ramsay: *holds neville between two slices of bread* what are you
neville: an idiot sandwich
no no no!
Imagine that this is Gordon Ramsay a la Masterchef Junior
Neville: *messes up the potion, realizes it, starts crying quietly*
GR: What’s going on?
Neville: *explains how he messed up*
GR: Oh gosh okay…we can fix this, don’t cry, see, it’s fine now? Just be more careful when you’re adding the Newt’s eyes, all right? Drop them in gently. There we go. No more tears.
Neville: *giggles wetly, wiping eyes*
Yes, he only screams when he’s dealing with people that claim to know what they’re doing and clearly dont, when he’s teaching he’s very kind and patient because they’re still learning.
He’d probably do the bread thing to Malfoy.
nononononono. I get that Malfoy is a bit of a twat, but he’s still a kid. It’d be the teachers fucking up that he’d have trouble with.
Ramsay: All you had to do was treat it with a fucking Beozar!
Slughorn: It was a stressfu-
Ramsay: How long have you been teaching potions?!
or
Ramsay: So you’re going to raise this boy SPECIFICALLY so he can die as part of your twisted little scheme?
Dumbledore: It’s for the greater good, professor.
Ramsay: The greater fucking good?! *holds two slices of bread either side of dumbledoor’s face* What are you?
My favorite Gordon Ramsey moment is from the latest season of Master Chef Jr.
Gordon had run in to help a group of struggling kids with a team challenge and one of the older kids, a 12 year old boy, wasn’t passing attention while taking a pan out of the oven and not only spilled all the food but scalded Gordon.
It’s clear Gordon’s leg is in pain. He’s been badly burned without warning. But he doesn’t scream. He doesn’t yell, not even in pain, and he doesn’t go off on the child who is now frozen in fear. He calmly tells the child to set the pan down and to close the oven, safety first. Then tells him to go restart the food he was making, calm instructions.
My husband and I grew up in abusive homes where any mistake meant parents getting angry (my husband is terrified of spills or broken glasses because that meant beatings growing up, for me, anything going wrong, that could upset my mother, even if it wasn’t my fault meant screaming and emotional abuse).
I didn’t know someone could be so calm. That someone could not get angry, and put aside what they’re feeling (in this case a lot of physical pain) and not take it out on those around them, even when someone around them had messed up, because that person is a child.
Gordon Ramsey is a survivor of child abuse himself and as an adult, the most non-abusive person ever when it comes to kids.
im going to cry can gordon ramsey be my parent this sound so beautiful
Please take a moment to picture Gordon Ramsay taking over Potions when Snape becomes the DADA professor (instead of Slughorn) and not only being horrified when he realizes how terrified the students are that he’ll verbally abuse them when they mess up in Potions class but when he overhears how Snape treats students. Like can you IMAGINE the level of RAGE and CONTEMPT that Ramsay would harbor towards Snape? The asshat wouldn’t have made it to the end of HBP. Ramsay would’ve hexed his ass to kingdom come.
Rebloging ALL of this because Chef Ramsay is THE MAN!
-HC
Chef Ramsay would have become the kids’ favourite teacher and you can’t take that away from me.
Imagine him dealing with Umbridge
Every time I reblog this post, I swear to God, it only gets better.
Okay, so a fic where Harry finds out that his animagus is a tiny little black kitten, and he’s all like, ‘shit son, this is my chance to stay out after curfew’ but then he’s out one night, and McGonagall finds him and immediately knows it’s him, and just picks him up by the scruff of his neck to deliver his naughty ass back to G Tower while Harry meows at her in indignation.
okay but this is so adorable
I can only see this
brb sCREAMING
Not drarry, but can’t not reblog….
i need a fic of this
‘Okay, then.’ Harry was his first thought as he looks down at his now furry body. Ron grins at him while Hermione sighs and puts a hand over her face. These boys will be the death of her some day.
Harry had wanted to know what his animagus was. So naturally, he did everything he could and concentrated hard and read all of the books and asked Sirius everything. And now that he had finally done it he didn’t know how to feel about it.
He was a cat. No, wait. He was a tiny little black kitten. And Ron was fighting the urge to pick him up and cuddle him forever and ever because he was an adorable tiny little black kitten. Hermione looked like she felt the same, despite how she tried to hide it.
Harry’s second thought as he looks down at his now furry body is that he could get away with some awesome shit.
~~~
The next couple days- and nights to Hermione’s displeasure (Harry wakes the other two up every damn time, and how he even manages to get into the girls dorms is still a mystery.)- were spent practicing going back and forth from kitten to human. Eventually, when Harry was convinced that he could manage transforming as easily as he’d like, he goes into his tiny little kitten form in the middle of an empty hallway.
He has no plans for what to do afterwards, so he just runs around the corridors and meows loudly outside of rooms that he knows people are in and then runs away, cackling when people get confused.
This happens every night for two straight weeks because he’s surprised that he isn’t running into a Death Eater or Voldemort or some shit because that always happens.
Then he runs into another cat. Literally runs into this cat. And then he realizes who he ran into and meows, trying to look innocent and pretend that he’s just some lost pet. But McGonagall isn’t having it. She meows impatiently. Then she leans down and picks him up by his neck and just starts walking. He kicks a bit, lets out a hiss and a few ‘confused’ meows but immediately stops when her eyes narrow as she looks down.
McGonagall carries him all the way back to the Gryffindor common room-which was pretty far away and up some stairs, mind you. Harry lets out meows every now and again but let’s himself be carried, his body stiff. ‘What is she gonna do to me?’ He asks himself. They get to the door and Harry takes a deep breath. McGonagall lets out a huff as she sits him down gently. He turns to look at her. She leans down and licks the fur that was sticking up and nudges him closer to the door, shooting him a glare that held no actual rage. As they transform and walk in their own separate directions silently, he heard her say, “Just like your father. I’ll never forget all the times I walked down a corridor and saw a stag, a dog, a rat, and Remus Lupin standing in it.” Harry just grins.
He does the same thing every single night afterwards. McGonagall waits for him in the same hallway and takes him to her office where she tells him about the Marauders and Lily. It’s the one thing he tells no one about.
FantasyBoudicca 