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Q: the kings in Romania thing. aren't the "kings" the dragons? that's how i understood it.
— Anonymous

Indeed! A metaphor :D

on that note, sorry for the lack of posting still! We’re still here, just super busy; I hope you don’t mind an inactive blog in your follow lists for awhile. We’ve also received a number of really nice anons—thank you very much for the love! ^__^

Julia edit: wheee looks like our jobs and various commitments got the better of us. Thanks so much for all your support & kind words and I hope we can post some new material soon!


Luna’s mother & fairytales; requested by anonymous
Luna’s mother & fairytales; requested by anonymous
Q: Um..about your chatlie weasley edit.. umm.. we don't have a king in Romania. Just sayin'.
— Anonymous

It’s a metaphor!

Julia: 

I couldn’t resist sorry.

Was Fleur afraid of her daughter? Not always, but there were times in the holidays when Victoire came home bristling, reeking of sweat and beer, talking of circle pits and amplifiers that made her ears ring for days on end. Times when she’d come home with a silver ring punctured through her nose and a storm boiling behind her eyes. Or when she’d come home and shear her hair off with kitchen scissors. That was when she was afraid. (x)
Was Fleur afraid of her daughter? Not always, but there were times in the holidays when Victoire came home bristling, reeking of sweat and beer, talking of circle pits and amplifiers that made her ears ring for days on end. Times when she’d come home with a silver ring punctured through her nose and a storm boiling behind her eyes. Or when she’d come home and shear her hair off with kitchen scissors. 
That was when she was afraid. (x)
Apologies for the late acceptance letter. Or maybe you were taking classes all along?

Apologies for the late acceptance letter. Or maybe you were taking classes all along?


THOMAS & FINNEGAN - GOOD BREWS, GOOD CRAIC   Seamus Finnegan, co-founder of fledgling brewery Thomas & Finnegan, is excited to announced the launch of the brand’s first craft beer, an IPA.   Finnegan’s India Pale Ale, which will be sold in the duo’s Diagon Alley bar from this Monday, is crafted from English hops and has a distinct, hoppy flavour which makes it a perfect pairing for spicy foods.   Thomas and Finnegan, who established their company in 2003, have recently secured investment from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes Inc.    ’We want to see our brews on tap in all good pubs. The Leaky, the Three Broomsticks,’ Finnegan said, when asked about his plans for the company’s future. ‘If anyone’s as much of a hophead as me and Dean, then this will be the beer for them.’    Dean Thomas, Finnegan’s long-running business partner, had more prosaic aims in mind.     ‘As long as Seamus makes enough money to buy his flipping moustache wax, he’ll be happy. Rent isn’t cheap either.’    Thomas also dropped hints that the pair plan to produce a Stout by the year’s end. Ale aficionados - watch this space.     — Ruaridh Belhaven, Food and Drink Correspondent for The Daily Prophet
THOMAS & FINNEGAN - GOOD BREWS, GOOD CRAIC
   Seamus Finnegan, co-founder of fledgling brewery Thomas & Finnegan, is excited to announced the launch of the brand’s first craft beer, an IPA.
   Finnegan’s India Pale Ale, which will be sold in the duo’s Diagon Alley bar from this Monday, is crafted from English hops and has a distinct, hoppy flavour which makes it a perfect pairing for spicy foods.
   Thomas and Finnegan, who established their company in 2003, have recently secured investment from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes Inc. 
   ’We want to see our brews on tap in all good pubs. The Leaky, the Three Broomsticks,’ Finnegan said, when asked about his plans for the company’s future. ‘If anyone’s as much of a hophead as me and Dean, then this will be the beer for them.’
    Dean Thomas, Finnegan’s long-running business partner, had more prosaic aims in mind. 
    ‘As long as Seamus makes enough money to buy his flipping moustache wax, he’ll be happy. Rent isn’t cheap either.’
    Thomas also dropped hints that the pair plan to produce a Stout by the year’s end. Ale aficionados - watch this space. 
    — Ruaridh Belhaven, Food and Drink Correspondent for The Daily Prophet

narcissa and andromeda’s last meeting (also under the cut as text)

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ginny weasley & blood, requested by redhead-ginny
ginny weasley & blood, requested by redhead-ginny
Q: what do you think of rita skeeter?? (besides the obvious)

Rita’s 100% selfish and revels in it. Sure, she might have some redeeming quality somewhere, but would she even care? She clearly loves her job and holds nothing back, has no boundaries nor shame, stomping all over both the alive and dead. Her quill is the only thing she holds sacred. She has few loved ones if any. She travels too much for them and they’re all hassle, no payoff; she needs concrete incentives, not evidence. She gets a kick out of the attention her stories get and her sheer power through words. There’s a terrifying appeal to that kind of thrill and freedom. I don’t think she has many regrets.

I completely understand why JKR thinks she’s so fun to write. My thoughts on her are biased because I write an OC who’s her grandniece, and she’s a Rita-lite who I’ve essayed endlessly about. She describes Rita as a “rubbish writ[er], brilliant businesswoman,” and has this anecdote to sum up Rita’s familial love: “Great-Aunt Rita always said she would take me to the Prophet headquarters, but let’s face it: the woman is much better at being a liar than an aunt.” Which sums up my headcanon for her and her writing as well.

Terrible, knows it, sassy about it. I love to hate her :D

- Gina


    Characters and their favourite music (requested by anonymous) / Harry Potter and Brothers in Arms - Dire Straits     Harry had never had a chance to be into music; a childhood lived in a downstairs cupboard and years spent dodging his own death had taken care of that. All he’d ever listened to was the radio, or Ron’s taste in records, and so when, after the war, he found himself with more money than he could ever care to spend, he bought a brand-new record player and set about listening to the last twenty years.    There was nothing he could inherit. The Potter house and all his parents’ possessions had been destroyed. Sirius had owned very little, and there were no records in Grimmauld Place (his parents would have forbidden them). Harry had no desire to keep the house that had once been Sirius’ prison but spent a fortnight cleaning it out all the same, poring over the books and letters and clothes that had once belonged to the man that, for two brief years, had been his friend, brother, uncle, father.     The record player was portable and he often took it with him as he tidied. Sirius, decided, had been a lot like him, and his father had been to Sirius what Ron had been to him. They had both suffered airless, lonely childhoods, both been robbed of the best years of their lives. Only Harry had a chance to make something of the time he had left.    He found himself going back to the same few records as he boxed and sealed Sirius’ few things. Sometimes the same song. ‘Padfoot,’ he would tell the empty house, as he lowered the needle on to the same point of the vinyl’s whorling grooves each day. ‘I think you’d like this one…’
    Characters and their favourite music (requested by anonymous) / Harry Potter and Brothers in Arms - Dire Straits
    Harry had never had a chance to be into music; a childhood lived in a downstairs cupboard and years spent dodging his own death had taken care of that. All he’d ever listened to was the radio, or Ron’s taste in records, and so when, after the war, he found himself with more money than he could ever care to spend, he bought a brand-new record player and set about listening to the last twenty years.
    There was nothing he could inherit. The Potter house and all his parents’ possessions had been destroyed. Sirius had owned very little, and there were no records in Grimmauld Place (his parents would have forbidden them). Harry had no desire to keep the house that had once been Sirius’ prison but spent a fortnight cleaning it out all the same, poring over the books and letters and clothes that had once belonged to the man that, for two brief years, had been his friend, brother, uncle, father. 
    The record player was portable and he often took it with him as he tidied. Sirius, decided, had been a lot like him, and his father had been to Sirius what Ron had been to him. They had both suffered airless, lonely childhoods, both been robbed of the best years of their lives. Only Harry had a chance to make something of the time he had left.
    He found himself going back to the same few records as he boxed and sealed Sirius’ few things. Sometimes the same song. ‘Padfoot,’ he would tell the empty house, as he lowered the needle on to the same point of the vinyl’s whorling grooves each day. ‘I think you’d like this one…’

THE UNLIKELY DRAGON TAMER pt. INone of the adults in the family imagined that one of their kids would be crazy enough to follow Charlie’s footsteps as a dragon keeper, least of all gawky Albus Potter who had difficulty tying his shoelaces without tripping. ("I’ll be all right. Lucy made me velcro boots.") When his apprenticeship acceptance arrived singed and stamped in the post, they finally took him seriously—and bombarded him with questions: did he really want to train dragons? Or was he just running off? Was he unhappy in Britain? His siblings and cousins picked on him, but surely he could tell they were just teasing. Albus laughed; sometimes, they knew so little about him. He liked dragons—well, he liked everything, but dragons were a subset of everything. And it was as simple as that.

THE UNLIKELY DRAGON TAMER pt. I
None of the adults in the family imagined that one of their kids would be crazy enough to follow Charlie’s footsteps as a dragon keeper, least of all gawky Albus Potter who had difficulty tying his shoelaces without tripping. ("I’ll be all right. Lucy made me velcro boots.") When his apprenticeship acceptance arrived singed and stamped in the post, they finally took him seriously—and bombarded him with questions: did he really want to train dragons? Or was he just running off? Was he unhappy in Britain? His siblings and cousins picked on him, but surely he could tell they were just teasing. Albus laughed; sometimes, they knew so little about him. He liked dragons—well, he liked everything, but dragons were a subset of everything. And it was as simple as that.


Edward Remus Lupin keeps an album of self-portraits; it is his way of marking the years he has lived.    No-one can remember what he looked like when he was born. Grandma reckons he had his mother’s hair - long and unruly from an early age - but Teddy had already cycled that hair through every colour of the rainbow by the age of three. At eleven he settled on a face and stuck to it, occasionally tweaking his skin or his nose or his eyebrows as he grew into his chosen body.    Metamorphagi can change the superficial at will, but never what is within. A Metamorphagus can smooth out acne with clearer skin, for example, but it does not make that acne disappear, and new disguises are hard to maintain without full concentration. A Metamorphagus’ “true” appearance is often revealed whilst they are asleep.     Teddy prefers to sleep alone. 
Edward Remus Lupin keeps an album of self-portraits; it is his way of marking the years he has lived.
    No-one can remember what he looked like when he was born. Grandma reckons he had his mother’s hair - long and unruly from an early age - but Teddy had already cycled that hair through every colour of the rainbow by the age of three. At eleven he settled on a face and stuck to it, occasionally tweaking his skin or his nose or his eyebrows as he grew into his chosen body.
    Metamorphagi can change the superficial at will, but never what is within. A Metamorphagus can smooth out acne with clearer skin, for example, but it does not make that acne disappear, and new disguises are hard to maintain without full concentration. A Metamorphagus’ “true” appearance is often revealed whilst they are asleep. 
    Teddy prefers to sleep alone. 
Q: How do you feel about Lord Voldemort?

I don’t feel strongly one way or another about Voldemort. I like him in the story and how he’s Harry’s literal inner darkness, but from a villain sense—and it’s not only HP—I’m not too interested in the singular archvillain. I’m more afraid of and chilled by the corrupt Ministry, the propaganda, and UGHbridge, and I actually remember those parts being hard to read through when I was younger because they made really uncomfortable. Voldemort is one man, ultimately mortal and a coward. He is really really hard to kill, but to me, the series is more about the fear of him and the manipulation of that fear fuels his power. Half the fight is just convincing people to speak his name let alone take up arms against him.

- Gina

I agree with Gina. Voldemort is scary as the Big Bad, but I find the Ministry’s corruption and the way it turns into a fascist, racist oppressor in the seventh book the most chilling aspect of the books. Voldemort is evil, but Umbridge is nasty and sadistic whilst convinced she’s doing the right thing. That absolute faith in her own beliefs and willingness to oppress those around her is terrifying. The most chilling thing about Voldemort, however, was his mental link with Harry, the way he played on Harry’s fears and anxieties to try and bring him to his downfall. Sirius’ death, for example. That’s also horrifying! Sorry, this answer wasn’t very deep - I’m not too good with the meta!

- Julia

Q: what are your weirdest headcanons?
— Anonymous

draco/hermione - beauty and the beast AU  (req. by anon)
    In Wiltshire, a dilapidated manor stands in place of a castle, gates rusted yellow, windows blackened with soot, and its single occupant presumed dead or worse. Six tall spires bite into the fog like half of a jaw open in omen: dark magic taints this land, and it is hungry for more than just the broken prince it has trapped.    Five years after its curse, a hippogriff lands on the outskirts. It kneels for its dismounting rider, a girl with hair like tumbleweed. The thorns that begin to curl around her bloom into roses redder than blood. They are curious, starving. This girl of whole heart and whole head does not belong here.    If she paid attention to the wind, she would have felt it whistle through her ears and lick her thoughts, and she would have heard it laugh, but she is preoccupied with untangling the curses on the entrance doors. It knows: she does not belong here, she who fancies herself a curse-breaker because she is the brightest witch of her age, she who thinks she can touch darkness without being touched in return.    When she enters the manor, the thorns close in behind her.

draco/hermione - beauty and the beast AU  (req. by anon)

    In Wiltshire, a dilapidated manor stands in place of a castle, gates rusted yellow, windows blackened with soot, and its single occupant presumed dead or worse. Six tall spires bite into the fog like half of a jaw open in omen: dark magic taints this land, and it is hungry for more than just the broken prince it has trapped.
    Five years after its curse, a hippogriff lands on the outskirts. It kneels for its dismounting rider, a girl with hair like tumbleweed. The thorns that begin to curl around her bloom into roses redder than blood. They are curious, starving. This girl of whole heart and whole head does not belong here.
    If she paid attention to the wind, she would have felt it whistle through her ears and lick her thoughts, and she would have heard it laugh, but she is preoccupied with untangling the curses on the entrance doors. It knows: she does not belong here, she who fancies herself a curse-breaker because she is the brightest witch of her age, she who thinks she can touch darkness without being touched in return.
    When she enters the manor, the thorns close in behind her.



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