Headcanon That Teddy Was Never Really Into Sports, Especially Quidditch. He Had A Passing Interesting

I think another big thing with the Weasleys kids is the age breakdown. Percy is closer in age to Ginny than he is to Bill—that whole bottom five is squished together, and it creates some weird dynamics. When Harry meets the Weasleys, Percy Seems like the oldest. But he’s not *really.* He is very much a middle child. Even though he’s two years above the twins in School, their birthdays put them at closer to a year and a half…much closer than the almost four years between Percy and Charlie.

I always got the impression that Charlie and Bill were their own unit—and the rest of the kids were the babies. Now, Percy is kind of the leader of the babies, but he’s still a baby.

And that’s immediately apparent when Bill and Charlie come home in GoF. They are cool and sophisticated and looked up to…and Percy argues with his little brothers. He DOES get included with his big brothers in fighting the Death Eaters…but he drops back down quickly to the Kid Section as soon as the crisis is over.

It’s an awkward place for Percy to be, and I think it contributes to his Ugly Duckling syndrome. Because to his younger siblings, he vacillates wildly between being almost a peer to being Mum’s Second in Command. They don’t know what to make of him: will he play with them today, or is today a day where he’s writing a report to Mum? And his older brothers are just…too old growing up to really engage with him.

Percy’s in this spot where he needs to take a position of leadership and responsibility in the family—because Bill and Charlie leave for school and then work well before they stop being Needed at home—but Percy’s also so Young when that happens.

And Percy takes on that emotional burden. Sometimes smugly: “Ginny has Other Brothers to set an example for her,” sometimes with a temper that reveals how close in age he truly is to them (see: every interaction with the twins), but more often than not, it’s very sincere and poignant. Percy doesn’t ASK his siblings to like him. He seems pretty okay doing his own thing in life. But he Does constantly look to and move to protect them. He loves them in a way that’s really almost parental, when it’s all said it done. It’s flawed as a sibling relationship, and I hope that as they grow up, that weirdness in ages evens out and they can all relate to each other as peers. But it is something really interesting.

Probably James Sirius Studying

James : "Okay I'll start studying at 8:00."

*some time goes by*

*time is 8:01*

James : "Oh well, I missed it, I'll start at 9:00 then"

-,’ types of people ,’-

hogwarts: bloody noses, always trying their best, warm sunsets, late summer nights, sharing secrets, messy hair, movie nights, stargazing, wanting to explore the world, standing up for friends, dogs, loud laughs, fuzzy sweaters

narnia: pale white snow, red cheeks, hot tea, fantasy stories, neat notes, big scarves, early morning walks, soft smiles, cute coffee shops, calming energy, cold hands, friendly eyes, wanting to learn more, astronomy geeks

middle earth: ancient souls, coffee, old bookshelves, history nerds, loves mythology, feels at home in the forest, always up for an adventure, oversized hoodies, high grades, striving to be the best version of themselves, cats

neverland: believes in fate, doesn’t care about opinions, flower fields, standing up for what’s right, honey, photography, amazed by the universe, kind souls, often lost in their own thoughts, friendliness, loves the stars, artistic

all pedophiles should die and theres literally no downside to them all dropping dead

okay but...

Harry insists on buying a CD player for his home in London with Ginny. 

Curious, he buys her a CD, one that he knows a lot of Muggle girls like but he’s only ever heard in passing. (He’s had Dark Lords and Death Eaters to worry about, you know.) 

And within minutes he regrets his life choices because Ginny is rocking out to “I Want It That Way” by some boy band called the Backstreet Boys on repeat. 

She asks Hermione about them and they buy every single boy band album from the 80′s on. 

They continue this for several years as new albums come out and Harry has more or less given Ginny the CD player. 

(Not that he particularly minds because she’s actually kind of cute when she’s dancing and singing along with a young Teddy and she doesn’t think he’s looking.)

She puts headphones on her pregnant belly and tells James Sirius Potter that he’s going to be such a charmer. 

Harry protests that she’s going to brainwash their baby before he’s even born but when has she ever taken his half-hearted arguments seriously? 

Eighteen years later James Sirius is tall and broad, a chiseled mix of Bill’s height and Fred and George’s stockiness, and singing some song that he’s heard Ginny hum before and Teddy pretends he isn’t watching him with a lopsided smile. 

James pretends that Teddy isn’t pretending to watch him

Harry pretends that he isn’t seeing them silently flirt and mumbles to Ginny that it’s all her fault with a light smile on his face. 

Ginny laughs and continues braiding Lily Luna’s hair. 

“But he’s charming, isn’t he?” 

Harry looks up from his morning paper just in time to see James Sirius holding out a sunflower he conjured in his palm to Teddy and Teddy rolling his eyes despite his blush. 

“Oh, he’s good.” 

“And you said I was brainwashing him.” 

They share a glance and laugh together quietly, happy that their son is boy band trash/a romantic sap.

Ravenclaw headcanons because there's not enough Ravenclaw on my dash

Padma sneaking Parvati into Ravenclaw Tower all the time and letting her stay in her dorm room because Parvati is allergic to Crookshanks.

Anthony and Terry arguing over which twin is who because they are known to switch ties all the time just to mess with everyone.

Cho organizing parties after every Quidditch match win or lose. Marietta taking care of food and drinks because she has “connections”.

“Connections” meaning she flirts with the Hufflepuffs because they have a secret easy access to the kitchens.

Luna’s things disappearing and then reappearing around the common room two months later. Her shoes tend to pop up elsewhere though.

Luna having thoughtful Saturday afternoon conversations with The Grey Lady about being dead.

Peeves bouncing around the common room for hours every single Tuesday night without fail and as a result the library stays open two hours longer than usual so the Ravenclaws can study.

Anthony spending more time doodling in his notebook than doing classwork and getting caught by McGonagall.

Su Li having an eagle owl that basically hates everyone and the entire Ravenclaw table knows to duck whenever they see it coming through the Great Hall because if you so much as look at it the wrong way it will go for your hair. Or your breakfast.

Terry never making it back to Ravenclaw Tower before curfew and getting into arguments with the Tower knocker because the questions become twice as difficult after curfew to discourage late night stragglers. Clearly it doesn’t work on him.

Every year after CoS, the Ravenclaws make bets on what sort of shit Harry Potter is going to get himself into. His fifth year Padma made a few Galleons off the fact that Loony Lovegood got mixed up in it.

when u first read the secret history it’s like oh, what an elegant and deep piece of literature. and then ur like…………bunny steals a frozen cheesecake from someone on financial aid. charles gets high and kills a bee at the funeral of his friend, who he helped to murder. henry didn’t know that people landed on the moon. richard thinks he’s straight. francis is hesitant that their alibi is going to the theater because he doesn’t want people to think he went to see such terrible movies. “and as we leave donne and walton on the shores of metahemeralism, we wave a fond farewell to those famous chums of yore.“ what the hell is going on in this book

“When are any of my kids going to get a girlfriend?”

Harry asked this aloud at the dinner table.

Both James and Albus tensed. Teddy snorted.

James’ eyes quickly flicked up to the multicoloured teen across the table from him, noticing the small smirk on the other boys face. If his father knew what went on between the two, God only knows what would happen.

It wasn’t that Harry was homophobic; he just hadn’t realised that his children were homosexual.

Albus’ mind flickered to the young Malfoy boy he shared a dorm with, a small smile growing on his face as he remembered tender touches from time spent at school. Perhaps just a peck on the lips or a hold of a hand, but it was enough to make the young boy blush.

Lily Luna glanced at her brothers, until she made direct eye contact with Teddy next to her. He raised his eyebrows jokingly, aware of her knowledge of what went on in her brother’s lives. She had been attending Hogwarts for three years, and was very observant, so it was clear to her that her brother’s were gay. 

As Teddy’s eyes shone with a certain mischief, the young girl took it as a challenge.

“Oh, I can invite her for Easter if you want, dad?” The bisexual young one smiled, “I’m sure she’d be delighted, she’s a big fan of not letting people die.”

“Oh,” Harry spluttered, “Yes, okay,” His eyes searched for help from his wife, until realising she was visiting her mother that evening, “Um, anymore confessions?” he carried on jokingly.

“I’m gay,” both of his sons stated in sync, as Teddy Lupin burst out laughing.

A discreet Portkey was set up for him once a year.  It was usually an empty bottle brought up from the kitchen, except for the time Fred Weasley managed to enchant all the bottles to hide themselves around the castle and explode into different colored confetti any time a prefect walked by.  That year, he had to make do with a biscuit tin.

  Anthony often thought that he’d just skip it.   He was usually only just digging into his classes for the year, and there was always at least three essays he would have to finish when he got back.  He sometimes started to write the letter to his mum telling her he’d be staying at Hogwarts before the guilt would overwhelm him.

  The truth was, he wasn’t sure he believed in any of it any more.  He lived in a world where bushes really did catch fire without flame, where water could be made to spurt from a stone.  Those wonderful, terrifying tales he grew up with could really be true- and that made him question his faith.

  But he went.  Every year.

  Every year, he felt the jerk under his navel, landed dizzily in the field behind his house.  Every year he entered the warm kitchen, smelling of freshly baked challah and sweet apples.  Every year he helped his mother clean up after dinner, licking the honey off the spoon she offered him as a treat.

  Every year he recited the same prayers, sung the same melodies, told the same lies to the friends and neighbors he saw at shul.  Every year, he felt the slight dizziness and unreality that came with fasting.  Every year, he watched as tears rolled down his mother’s cheek as she recited the Yizkor for his father.

  Every year, he cried too.

  And every year, when the kugel had been eaten and the kitchen was in a state of controlled disaster, Anthony Goldstein would kiss his mother on the cheek, gather up the leftovers she had neatly wrapped for him, and walk out to find the empty bottle in the middle of the field.

  And returned to the real world.

(Source: thejdc.convio.net)

L'shanah tovah, lovely followers!  May your new year be sweet and full of joy.

fleur delacour falling in love with bill weasley because he sees her. his youngest brother looked and went hair-eyes-teeth-legs, thought body, thought sex. her whole life, men have been looking and seeing a thing, not a girl. since she turned thirteen and bud-breasts pressed up against her shirts and boys at school wanted to sit close, men back home lingered too long in hugs.

until she was fifteen she dressed herself in shame before she put any clothes on at all. wore everything a few sizes too big, a few inches too long. draped herself in thick fabrics to hide the body beneath them. never learned that hot eyes on her were the fault of their owners, not her. took the uncomfortable stares and the endless flirtation as a fact of life. was fourteen the first time she dared to say “stop looking!” and met only laughter.

it’s not until she’s nearly sixteen and her sister is turning ten that she sees eyes begin to slide over her and to gabrielle. a friend of their father’s, not even that deep into a bottle of wine, caresses a child-round cheek and murmurs a line from lolita, eyes too bright and lips too dry. gabrielle flickers a panicked glance around the room. that look is so familiar. the same hour fleur switches her baggy sweatshirt for a crop top and rolls her skirt over two inches. 

they will look at her. never at her sister.

at school, the same. at home, the same. slowly, she learns to be less ashamed of the looking. to play to the object they expect her to be. she comes to scotland and she’s the centre of attention. they hear her name pulled out of  the goblet of fire and all anyone wants to talk about is her legs in that skirt. she defeats a dragon and boys whisper all the dirty things they want to do to her just moments after they finish comparing cedric’s charmwork to krum’s reflexes to harry’s flying. they watch her pass in the hallways and their eyes glaze over like she’s a thing put there for their pleasure. 

fleur lifts her head high and lets the stares keep coming.

then she meets bill weasley, and not long after he asks her how she’s doing. asks it like he really means it, like it matters to him that she still gets nervous going around blind corners, that vines make her skin crawl and that the green flash of a hex makes her mind go too blank with fear to defend herself. he brings her a bottle of his favourite whiskey and sinks deep into it, tells her about his life and his job and asks about that night in the maze she doesn’t think about. he doesn’t look at her legs even once.

the next time she brings him her favourite wine and they share it. she’s giggling and silly by the end of the evening and he laughs with her, laughs at her like an equal and not like a thing he wants to fuck. he takes her to her door and leaves her in the care of her friends and he doesn’t do it because he thinks it’ll make scoring easier next time. doesn’t decide his actions based on which will result in sex the fastest.

he doesn’t ask her out until he’s laid himself bare for her, doesn’t even touch her until she reaches down and presses her fingers into his. the first night she feels brave enough to go home with him he keeps her up at the kitchen table until three am telling her all the things he likes about her. her physical appearance doesn’t even make the top one hundred. he says, how much you love your sister. how fierce you look when i take the last croissant. that funny french way you roll your ‘r’s. how you try to tell me jokes but laugh too much to finish them. how you know exactly how many children you want, and the precise shade of blue you’ll use to decorate your nursery. the bravery of you. the way your mind moves so fast sometimes i can’t keep up with it. the fact that i think you could do my job ten times as effectively as i can. they fall asleep on top of his covers, fully clothed, and the next morning fleur has to say yes i want this i am sure that i want this ten times before he starts to undress her.

his family call her all the things she’s heard a million times before. fleur lifts her head high and lets the insults keep coming. his brothers still sometimes look at her like they’ve forgotten to see a person, his mother mutters under her breath about fleur’s lack of suitability, his sister takes every opportunity to express her dislike. they see her beauty and they think they know her. they watch her move and they think she’s nothing more than her body and face. 

but bill weasley sees her. and fleur will not let anything—not a war, not lycanthropy, not a disapproving family—take him away from her.