Red.

red.

it is february 1980 when they meet at a funeral

they are two red-haired women, one pureblood and one muggleborn, but neither of them care because blood does not matter

(except that it does. except that this whole stupid war is about blood)

they are two red-haired women with the future of the wizarding world growing in their bellies

and this is how it goes

gideon and fabian prewett go into the ground that day

molly, the last remaining prewett, feels like she’s drowning

(and although she is now a weasley, she will always be a prewett)

arthur’s hand in hers reminds her that she is not alone (far from it, in fact), but it does not ease the pain, the grief of losing all that was left of her family in one fell swoop

there is a stream of endless platitudes and consolations, so repetitive and meaningless that they blend into one another

(and she feels awful for the ones she has offered in the past)

(sometimes words mean so little)

she tries to tune it all out. sometimes she mutters, ‘thank you,’ towards her feet, but mostly she is silent

‘when are you due?’

it is the only question that cuts through because it is so thoroughly unexpected, especially at a funeral

looking up, she meets a pair of brilliant green eyes, softened with sympathy in this moment

(but she knows just by looking at her that this woman can be hard, so hard and strong when she wants to be)

(and behind the woman stands a tall, bespectacled man with black hair, wilder and messier than hair really has a right to be, and she knows immediately that they are lily and james potter, who gideon and fabian talked about because of how bright and brave and in love they are)

when she does not answer, lily tries again, ‘you are pregnant, right? this isn’t some awful, social faux pas where i’ve asked a woman if she’s pregnant when she’s not, right?’

james sniggers and lily elbows him in the stomach

(and she wonders about these two, clearly so young, too young, for war and for a baby and for merlin knows what else might be coming)

(but she sees the way he holds her hand reverently, and the way she looks up at him reproachfully, her eyes betraying her amusement and embarrassment, and how he smiles and she smiles back and molly may as well not be there because they are so in love and damn the war)

‘march,’ she eventually answers and the anxiety in lily’s face melts away

then molly casts her eyes downwards and smiles

‘and you?’

‘august,’ she answers, glowing like only a woman who is creating life can

lily’s hand skims across her stomach, the instinctual action of a woman whose belly is full of baby

(and molly would know, she has patted her own belly too many times to count)

‘well, i guess our children will be going to hogwarts together, then,’ molly muses aloud

‘maybe they’ll be best friends,’ lily smirks

and, for a moment, molly feels lighter because it is so reassuring to talk about the future in this way, to think about her children growing up in a world where they’re safe and happy and blood doesn’t matter and they can be whatever they choose to be

‘potter and weasley,’ james is staring dreamily at the sky before dropping his gaze back down and grinning widely

‘hogwarts won’t know what hit it.’

she never sees them again

her hands shake when she reads about them in the daily prophet

and she cries when she thinks about how they were bright and brave and so young

(too young and so in love)

(and now gone too soon)

she never forgets, but the memory does fade, the memory of meeting a vivacious couple on one of the worst days of her life and how they gave her hope for a future when the word future felt like taboo

and it doesn’t happen the way any of them had predicted, but it happens

because ron writes home in september 1991, talking about how he made friends with harry potter and how he stuffed himself silly on the hogwarts express because harry was generous and cool and being friends with him was easy and natural

so she thinks of lily and how she rubbed her belly, green eyes alight with hope

and she thinks of james and his cheeky grin and what he said that day

‘potter and weasley. hogwarts won’t know what hit it.’

and she smiles

Red hair… and a hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley

Soon there will be no more bananas coming down the stairs. Just a pile of empty pyjamas...

omg apparently artificial banana flavoring is based on the gros michel banana which was wiped out by a banana plague in the 50s and the banana we eat today is a totally different thing called the cavendish and thats why banana candy doesnt taste like bananas do you know how lied to i feel. like there was a fucking banana apocalypse and no one told me about it until now

Happy September 1st everyone :)

My thoughts e x a c t l y

The Harry Potter who cast an unforgivable curse to defend Minerva McGonagall is is not the same Harry Potter in the Cursed Child. 

“You don’t have any children.”

That sentence is a character assassination of one of the most iconic characters of literature. 

Harry Potter respected and loved McGonagall. He would never in a million years say something bad to or about her. He knew that she loved every student who passed through her doors.

You know you're in deep when you start needing a plural for apocalypse

the scoobies + becoming less and less impressed by the imminent apocalypse