Headcanon that after the battle of Hogwarts, George dyes his hair an outrageous colour, and at first Molly is mad, but then she hears George whisper “I kept thinking it was him in the mirror”.
Imagine Harry and Ginny a few months into their marriage and they’re so happy and in love and then one day they go shopping for food and household items and Harry just casually grabs certain items before Ginny hisses at him to "Check the prices, Harry, God! That bed set is far too expensive, we’re not going to have anything left to get the food with!" And Harry starts to laugh and say "We don’t have to worry about -" and then he stops and he and Ginny look at each other. And Harry realizes that she’s grown up having to measure out all her money and decide what she can and cannot have for a certain week or month or year. And Ginny realizes that she is actually no longer obligated to worry about money ever again.
Imagine Harry and Ginny eating dinner together and Ginny’s telling him about certain meals her mum made and teasing him about how he wolfs everything down and "Honestly Harry, you’re worse than Ron!" and Harry retorts laughingly "well old habits die hard, I had to fight Dudley for meals all the time, you at least knew you were going to eat every day!" And Ginny’s grin starts to fade and she asks "You…you didn’t get to eat everyday?" And Harry realizes what he said and he changes the subject quickly and Ginny looks at the plates in front of him and resists the urge to pile on some more potatoes. And the next day Vernon Dursley’s car is egged.
Imagine Harry and Ginny both suffering from night terrors and PTSD and agreeing that maybe going to that therapist Hermione recommended isn’t such a bad idea, and that’s how Thursday night became Therapy Night when they go out to dinner or to the pub after each session and agree that they need to talk to some Healers about introducing these sessions since therapy is still widely seen as muggle nonsense in the wizarding world.
And Ginny murmurs over her fire whiskey that sometimes she can still hear Tom Riddle murmuring in her ear, and Harry whispers that he dreams about running after his mother and father and Sirius and Remus as they disappear behind the Veil in the Department of Mysteries and he doesn’t know if he wakes from terror or regret about not making it through. And they go back home and hold each other closer that night and both wake up with raging hangovers.
Harry Potter characters as Disney characters by Makani.
THESE ARE THE PERFECTEST VERSIONS OF THE HP CHARACTERS I HAVE EVER SEEN.
Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault s/he’s dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your boy/girlfriend is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)
I’ve not seen this on Tumblr but it may have already made the rounds.
Found from a Facebook post. If anyone knows the original source, please add it
Headcanon that when Harry was a baby, Remus would come over and hold conversations with him as if he were an adult.
"Lily, Harry here says that you took away his broom. Is that true?"
"Now how did you know that?"
"Didn’t I just say? Harry told me."
"Hey, Harry, did you read what Fudge’s statement on the newspaper? He’s angling for Minister, you know. What do you think, will he run the country to the ground?"
"Well, if you say so, then I suppose I’ll have to trust him. If I come to regret this, it’s your fault."
"Are you taking political advice from a baby, Moony?”
“He’s not actually talking, James.”
"But of course he’s talking. He says he’s very sad that neither of you can understand him. And you call yourselves parents."
And as the war progresses, sometimes Remus stops visiting for weeks at a time, and then shows up looking worse for wear and not looking anyone in the eye and refusing James’ offers to let him borrow his razor or use his shower and Lily’s offers that she’s always here to talk and just asks where Harry is. And then one time Lily stands behind the doorway and listens as he talks to Harry, just like he always does.
"…Don’t give me that. I’ve heard enough of it from your father… I know, I know, I don’t like it either. But I swear, I’m doing all of this for you. For you and your Mummy and your Daddy… Don’t worry. Everything’s so scary right now, isn’t it? But don’t worry. If it’s the last thing I do, I swear to you, I’ll keep you safe."
THERE IS A WHOLE CATEGORY OF HOGWARTS ATMOSPHERES ON AMBIENT-MIXER. SO IF YOU HAVE WIFI AND WANT TO FEEL LIKE YOU’RE AT THE CASTLE, CLICK HERE.
14. As a senior year prank, the 7th years charm the plates and goblets at the feast to start singing “Be our guest”
Oh hell, yeah
Favorite Muggleborns headcanons (1/?)
So imagine a Harry Potter TV series but BETTER than Game of Thrones because seasons 1 and 2 would be Founders, 3-5/6 would be Marauders, 6/7-13/14 would be the books, and then 13/14-forever would be post-Hogwarts Golden Trio and Next-Gen and it would be absolutely brilliant.
Muggleborns at Hogwarts
I lost my shit at stomp stomp clap
what if when we’re like 80 they remake harry potter and the kids of that time get to see peeves and st mungos and “it unscrews the other way” and “have a biscuit potter” and the portraits applauding in the headmasters office and no fucking breaking of the elder wand I’m going to be so pissed off
i want to hear more about the dursleys can jo talk about the monthly brunches with dudley’s family and how harry has to threaten james not to jinx cousin susie but he does anyway and when dudley sees the little pig tail on her behind he starts guffawing and i just want a dudley/harry reconciliation
What if Charlie Weasley is asexual? Like what if when his brothers were going through puberty and getting crushes on girls and just obsessing over them, Charlie was just like, “Guys. DRAGONS.”