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Chapters: 2/8 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Cho Chang/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley, Charlie Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini Characters: Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Charlie Weasley, Percy Weasley, Ron Weasley, Molly Weasley Additional Tags: Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Threesome, Open Relationships, Friends With Benefits, References to Drugs, Slow Burn, right person wrong time, Drug Addiction, Sex Addiction, Dark Ginny Weasley, Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Drug User Ginny Weasley, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Angst, Major Illness Summary:

Ginny Weasley was once a girl on fire.

And now she's burning the candle at both ends, running, and fighting, and yes maybe snorting whatever she can find off Pansy Parkinson's tits, but that doesn't mean anything.

And suddenly her brother has less time than her, and she's introducing him to her life, and suddenly everything is blazing in a fiery bright bonfire and it is tearing apart the very people she once depended on.

or : The Ways PTSD Affects the Golden Trio & Co.

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Chapter 2 is posted!! Go show it some love :)

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Chapters: 2/? 
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling 
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences 
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply 
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter 
Characters: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil 
Additional Tags: Bisexual Hermione Granger, Lesbian Pansy Parkinson, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Fluff and Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Hermione Granger-centric, Internalized Misogyny, Lavender Brown Lives, Anti Lavender Brown Bashing, Past Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Angst, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship 
Summary: hermione granger is smart and brave and not very pretty but it is okay because she is trying to survive in a world that doesn’t want her very much. she is trying so so hard to beat fate, but we all know lady fate doesn’t listen to requests.
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in which hermione granger falls in love with the girl who will never stop running

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Plz someone help I am finishing a chapter and I need motivation 😔😔

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hermione granger is smart and brave and not very pretty but it is okay because she is trying to survive in a world that doesn’t want her very much. she is trying so so hard to beat fate, but we all know lady fate doesn’t listen to requests.

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in which hermione granger falls in love with the girl who will never stop running

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The Many Lovers of Teddy Lupin

( a character study in three acts )

Act One - Lies

“Teddy is perfect.” Dominique Weasley sighs, to her best friend (and potential cousin-in-law) Cedar Chang. Ced looks back at her and Dominique already knows what she’s going to say, cutting her off quickly before she starts. “Other than the fact he’s dating my sister.”

Ced shrugged crawling to sit behind Dominique, as she leaned her head back, allowing her friend to begin braiding her hair. Cedar wasn’t one for comforting words. - neither was dominque, if she had to be honest - but the pair had quickly learned to share emotions and feelings through more physical activities. Normally one - if not both of them - had some elaborate hairdo that had been styled by the other.

“He’s just so-!” Dominique exclaimed, not even having the words to describe the man that was Teddy Lupin. Teddy with his lean figure and ever-changing hair, who always gave her the perfect gifts every christmas and it honestly seemed like he could read her mind. He always smelt like wood and always made sure to help her grandmother in the kitchen. Dominique had been in love with the man as long as she could remember. She had been so excited when he had started coming over more, always shaking her dad’s hand and kissing her mom on the cheek, she had even started to wonder if the luck charms she had been attempting on herself were finally working.

That was all until she Teddy came downstairs from Victoire’s bedroom to eat dinner, the pair of them with their hand’s intertwined and their perfect beautiful features and their perfect fucking lives.

All throughout her life Dominique had ben compared to her siblings. She and Victoire had the same genes, the same Veela blood, but even that didn’t help Dominique stand a chance against her older sister. Victoire was the picture perfect clone of their mother, her only Weasley trait being the light freckles that dotted her nose. Dominique knew she was pretty, but she just wasn’t as ethereal as Victoire. Dominique had red hair, that stood out like a sore thum against her blonde as shit siblings. She had a scar on her forehead from falling off a broom when she was little, Victoire and Louise, their little brother, didn’t have a single mark gracing their perfect faces, and she sure as hell had never fallen off a broom. The Weasley trait of bein fantastic at Quidditch had seemingly passed over Dominique, and every family gathering she was forced to sit on the side, babysitting Luna’s kids, while the rest of her family played aggressively. Even Cedar played, and as much as Dominique wished she would sit its her, she couldn’t stop Ced from wanting to play with her boyfriend, her and Fred finding new ways of hitting each other with bludgers.

So in essence, Victoire was perfect. And now she had the love of Dominique’s life laying on her stupid fucking lap.

Act Two - Sins

“Teddy is troubled.” James said, trying to defend his (friend/lover/whatever he was) to Albus who just stared at him unbreakingly. James knew he ddn’t have an excuse for what he’d been caught doing, and Teddy had apparated away before he could say anything to help.

“James he’s dating our cousin.” Albus sighed, his look hadn’t changed since he had found James and Teddy in James’s bedroom, half naked and moving fast. James knew in his brain Albus was right, but when Teddy looked at him with those brown eyes and started talking about what a mess his life had become, James just wanted to do what he could to make him happy.

James knew the pair was a mess, and that technically Teddy was a cheating bastard, but was James any better? James had no idea what he was doing in his life, he had no idea what he wanted to do, but living off his parents funds wasn’t the plan he had had in mind when graduating school. All he knew was that Teddy made him feel better than any drink he could take or any potion he could drink.

“Al he’s just having a hard time right now.” James tried, anything to convince his brother not to tell Victoire. It really would be a scandal, and would probably even show up in some sort of gossip magazine. With so many relatives, information easily fell through cracks, and family drama became Wizarding World drama, and James really didn’t want to deal with that right now. Teddy was worse off than him and he was just barely keeping himself alive, working every hour he could, and taking potions that let him keep going, on barely any sleep. James couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Teddy laugh, and he knew Albus was thinking the same thing.

“That shouldn’t let him off the hook.” Albus said, but James already knew his brother had changed his mind, he wouldn’t tell anyone. Albus furrowed his brows, and James wished they were kids again and he could run a finger down the worry lines in Albus’s face and practically erase them. But they weren’t kids anymore and Teddy wasn’t some boy James followed around like a little duckling. Everything was complicated now and James felt so out of control that he didn’t even know how to set it right again.

“Be careful with him.” Albus sighed, after James hadn’t responded, “And yourself too.”

“Always am Al.” James replied, trying to grin back, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. No matter what the outcome was, James knew he couldn’t come out on top. Despite everything, he knew Teddy loved Victoire, and he knew Teddy loved their family and he wouldn’t do anything to mess up that.

Act Three - Love

“Teddy is trying.” Victoire sighed, looking back at her mother’s disapproving face in the mirror. Victoire looked beautiful, silvery makeup ghosting her features, jewelry shining out from under her hair. She was getting married, but why was everything so hard,

Her mother touched Victoire’s hair, slipping a tiara into the carefully braided locks. Victoire had been with her for hours, allowing Fleur to carefully braid each piece of hair and put it into place. Throughout the whole ordeal Victoire had been talking, all her doubts and feelings and worries slipping out of her like rays of light after a storm broke. And her mother had simply listened, allowing Victoire to speak.

“Are you loved?” Her mother asked, looking down at Victoire, with features that resembled her own far too close sly for Victoire’s liking.

“Oui.” Victoire responded back, in a whisper as if she was telling some sort of secret. It shouldn’t be a secret though, Teddy’s love for her should be something she could scream from the rooftops, something that she was reminded of every day, not something her own mother wasn’t even sure of.

Victoire wanted so much but she knew that Teddy was trying. She knew he wasn’t happy, and that though it wasn’t her fault, it felt like it was. She felt like she wasn’t enough if the man she had loved since she was fifteen couldn’t feel that in his heart. Victoire knew him to his bones, and she had always known how his mind wandered. She knew deep down that he looked at others when he was with her, but she also knew that he would give his life time and time again in order to keep her safe. She knew that if she asked, if she told him how sad it made her, that he would stop sleeping with the man he was seeing at night.

But she couldn’t do that.

Teddy was trying to love her, and he did, he truly did. Victoire knew she could never find someone who loved her as wholly as Teddy did, who held Victoire in every moment she needed him, and even moments she didn’t. She knew Teddy would kill someone for her, and wouldn’t be upset if she did the same. She knew that if she was in Azkaban he would trade places with her in a heartbeat and would never ever let her die. Teddy tried so so hard to be perfect for her, and Victoire was going to do the same.

She would marry Teddy and have his children and they would be as happy as they could be because at least they were trying.

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ron weasley character study

hermione watches her husband play chess, tired eyes flickering over the black and white board. he doesn’t play wizarding chess anymore, he claims it’s too violent for the fragile peace they’re trying to keep. his hands move pieces, shaking slightly. the shake, hermione knows, is due to the empty firewhisky bottle strewn sideways on the ground beside him. is it even empty? she doesn’t know, but she grabs a tea towel anyway, wiping the few droplets that fell from the discarded bottle. her gaze drifts back to her husband, as he gently pushes over a chess piece. the king, she thinks, but she never really learned the rules. he’s playing alone, which is sad, but he says it clears his head. the sweater that once ripped at the elbows from being too tight seems big on him, slipping off his shoulder blade and revealing clear bones that hermione herself has, hiden beneath her dress. she wants to reach out to touch him, but he’s already standing up, his game finished. they don’t touch much anymore, only at night, when nightmares or memories - neither can remember which is which- come slinking in from the darkness. hermione so desperately wishes she could help her husband, but she is barely keeping herself afloat and she knows she has work to do, piles and piles of papers sitting on her desk upstairs, to keep her up like they do every night.

harry is glad the war is over. he has just turned nineteen and he is so alive and he thinks that that is good enough. he downs another muggle shot and grins forcefully and ron, who’s already had twice the amount he has. harry thinks this is good for ron, going out ever friday. they get trashed and forget all about the war and being wizards and sometimes the women that wait for them at home. ron doesn’t, he never does, but sometimes as they take the night bus home, harry can tell by the way ron’s shaky eyes drift over to him, that he knows why harry took so long in the bathroom. harry always dances all night, pushing his best friend into pretty muggles over and over again, hoping something will stick. harry loves hermione, and he knows ron does too but they survived a war, and they won the war, so they deserve to do whatever they need to make them happy. harry knows ron needs a little bit of a distraction. he knows how ron feels when he looks at hermione because it’s the same way harry feels wen he looks at ron’s sister. love and hate and war and so, so many emotions. harry looks at the girl in front of him and he can see his best friend in her eyes and he can see her dead brother in her laugh and he can’t help but remember how she had opened that stupid chamber of secrets. he can’t help it so he thinks he’s earned the ability to make a couple of mistakes from time to time. harry glances over ron, as he takes one more shot, and he figures that getting trashed is enough for his best friend for tonight, and though harry wants to stay, he saw a pretty brunette walking into the back, and he so dearly wants to follow her.

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The Well-Hanged Man (a harry potter ficlet)

The following is an excerpt from The Well-Hanged Man and the Doxy Dykes: A Hidden History of the Queer Wizarding World of the 1970s by Dean Thomas (pub. Lumos Press, 2019).

“The Well-Hanged Man stands on Confundus St., three blocks off Diagon Alley, in the first floor of a tall brick building painted a fading purple. Above the gay bar—once the most prominent of its kind in wizarding London—is a two-story flat occupied by the bar’s owner, Dedalus Diggle. The bar is still open for business today, but it has never regained the popularity and notoriety of its heyday in the 1970s, when the urgency of the first war with Voldemort and the new freedoms afforded to homosexuals combined to make the place a haven for queer people looking to escape both the strictures of conventional life and the increasing terrors of the Death Eaters’ rise. Under Diggle’s proprietorship the bar was emphatically anti-You-Know-Who, but it had a famously lax policy on other sorts of lawbreaking; sex workers, drug users, and petty thieves numbered amongst its patrons, and friends often reminded each other to perform an anti-pickpocketing jinx before entering the establishment.

“Once inside, patrons were greeted by loud music and the hot, stuffy smell of smoke, sweat, and energetic arousal. Glitter, charmed in place, hung in the air; the lights bouncing dizzily off it could blind you if you looked from the wrong angle. Most nights featured live music, generally punk or alternative, and the Doxy Dykes performed regularly on Tuesday nights, when the balance of the bar shifted towards leather-clad lesbians. The gin was famously good, the vodka famously bad; the bar served only one specialty cocktail, a bright red concoction called the Felix Fellatio that was guaranteed to knock drinkers off their feet. Sex was, of course, legally forbidden on the premises, but many a hand was slipped down the fronts of trousers on the crowded dance floor, and the bar’s management never seemed to get around to filling in the waist-height holes in the men’s loo until the day before an inspection, after which they would inevitably appear again.

“The queer scene in the wizarding world has always been necessarily small, and those who desired anonymity frequented clubs in Muggle London instead. But the Well-Hanged Man was, in those years, the most popular destination for a certain set of recent Hogwarts graduates, whose involvement in the war efforts—the extent of which was not known at the time, and which would have such tragic consequences for nearly all of them—did not prevent them from spending many nights under the influence of the bar’s boozy, hedonistic spell. Amongst these bright lights (so many of which were extinguished all too soon after) were Gideon and Fabian Prewett, twin brothers who insisted that only one of them was gay, though they would never say which; Sirius Black, the later convicted and then exonerated war criminal who, at the time, was most notorious for his excessively lascivious dance moves and much-extolled blowjobs; Remus Lupin, Black’s partner, an apparently shy boy who startled new acquaintances with his energetic drag performances; James and Lily Potter, whose queerness was long ignored by historians who wanted to paint them as the picture of idealized wartime heteronormativity but who in fact often brought home strangers of varying gender for three- and foursomes, well into Lily’s pregnancy with Harry Potter; and Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Evans, the former the frontwoman of the Doxy Dykes and the latter the band’s tech person and McKinnon’s on-again, off-again partner. The beauty, vitality, and hopefulness of these young queer people is glossed to a shine by the tragedies that later affected so many of them; Diggle, the bar’s now octogenarian owner, remembers them with deep fondness.

“‘Gorgeous they were, every last one of them. So full of life. So brave. Braver than we knew, at the time, of course. I remember when the Prewetts stopped coming in. We turned all the tablecloths black and drank a toast. That was the first time, but not the last. The first Tuesday the Doxies didn’t play…well. Not a dry eye in the house. But there were good times, too! I remember when young Remus Lupin—so innocent, he looked, but full of mischief as the rest of them—drank half a bottle of Firewhiskey and got up to dance on the bar! Stripped right down to his pants and I had to stop him before he took those off, too. His friends would have egged him right on. Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded too much myself!’

“The Well-Hanged Man is quieter, now, almost a nostalgic place, with its old punk posters and dingy concrete floors. Diggle still presides over the bar from time to time, though he admits he lets his younger employees take over when it gets too late. The glory holes have long ago been stopped up, and the casual trade in illicit potions and brews has migrated to other, less wistful locales. Still, there is something about the Well-Hanged Man that feels, even now, a little bit electric. Our forebears drank and danced and laughed there, toasted their fallen friends, kissed and fucked and fought; and it’s still possible—or maybe it’s just wishful thinking?—to feel their presence under the glitter, flecks of which still hang here and there in the stuffy air.”

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archived letter of two lovers after the first wizarding war - dated 1979

dear you

you stood in front of me once, hands crafted into unsteady fists. i saw you, watching me carefully, your eyes more like that of a young deer than the snake you so desperately wanted to be. blood, stains your fingertips now, and if you stood in front of me like that again, i would be the one unable to meet your eyes. why did you change? your parents stood above you holding dagger tips within their loving embrace against your ghostly white skin. the only freckles you have left are pinpricks of dried blood, but is the blood even yours? you were forced into wonderland, and now you stand beside a leader who executes without a thought. do you have thoughts or is your brain so hazy with thundercracks that mirror the ones that you saw at no more than fourteen years old. you’re too similar to your brother, even with him i see the fingerprints of ghosts that touched him once. his gaze goes cold when someone tries to contradict him, and it scares me how fast he reaches for his wand. are you ever coming back alice? i know you slaughtered the white rabbit long ago using harsh words that create chasms only a brother could make. in another universe you would be a lion, eyes bright once again, never having lost their light. we would embrace, not quite friends, and surely not brothers. the strings holding our souls are tangled so tightly that i know our fates will intertwine. in another universe the rabbit would have been my true brother, and alice would have been mine. not this one, because murderous hands would not allow themselves to intertwine with those so clean. you may still have shapes of doves or lions in your heart, and i pray the snake has not ravished on all that is good. i expect the letter burnt after the first reading of this, but know, forever you will shape my mind. my fate. my heart. i doubt we’ll ever meet again, but i will see you in our next lifetime.

forever, \

the stag

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favours

ginny weasley was running laps on the track, because that was what she always did. she ran and ran and ran until her lungs were burning and her legs were about to give out and she didn’t know what time it was but she still kept going.

ginny’s fists grew tighter, and she could feel her nails digging into the skin of her palm, only urging her to keep going. harry was graudating that year, and ginny knew well enough that the captain position could be hers - if she was good enough.

there was once a time, when ginny was okay with not being the best. when being the captain’s girlfriend was enough for her. when both her brother and boyfriend were on the team and everyone just assumed she got on because of favouritism.

not anymore.

ginny weasley was determined to prove to everyone that she was good enough. she played football better than anyone at hogwarts, including her ex-boyfriend. 

“weasley! what’re you doing out there?” ginny glanced up, sitting on a hill, looking as pristine as always, was blaise zabini.

ginny sighed, jogging off to the side of the track, continuing to run in place as she waited for zabini to come down. the pair had an interesting relationship to say the least.

zabini had tutored her the year previous, when she had been failing maths. she couldn’t ask hermione, cause she’d tell harry and ron, and it would eventually go back to the rest of her family. ginny couldnt have that.

so instead, ginny had gone to draco, who was best in their year, who had referred her to blaise. and blaise had then helped her actually pass. 

“hey.” ginny offered, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. she grimaced as she wiped it against her shorts, she was sweating. a lot.

“what are you doing?” blaise asked lazily, glancing at her up and down. if anyone else did it, ginny would feel disgusted, but whenever blaise does she just feels like she’s never good enough for him.

“running,” ginny said, ignoring how blaise was making her feel, “do you not do that back home?”

“well maybe, but i don’t like sweating, so...” blaise trailed off, probably noticing just how much ginny was sweating herself.

“some of us need to work hard to get what we want zabini,” ginny replied, sighing as she finally let herself sit down on the grass next to the track.

“you don’t think i work hard?” zabini asked, tilting his head, his eyes twinkling in a way ginny hated so much. like he knew more than her.

“i know you don’t.” 

“touchy touchy.”

zabini yawned, rocking back on his heels as he stared at her. like she was a pet that was amusing him at the moment. zabini was an enigma that ginny had no yearning to solve.

“so? what are you really here for?” ginny asked him, refusing to break eye contact despite what she was feeling inside.

“i need a date for a party. someone to show my parents,” blaise replied, waving his hand about like he was telling some great story. bullshit.

“you know just as well as i do that they won’t like me.” ginny deadpanned.

“that’s the idea, little weasley.” blaise grinned, the sharp points of his teeth poking out.

“so what? i’m going to some party to get hated? that doesn’t sound like something i’d want to do.”

blaise grinned even wider, moving to stand closer to where ginny was exhausted and sweaty, layed out on the grass. they were quite the pair; blaise all poised with tight collars and a jawline that could cut, and then of course her.

“you know you owe me one from last year.”

ginny sighed. loudly, to make sure blaise could hear. 

“fine. but i hope you know i’m not going to be enjoying it.”

“oh i’m counting on it.” and with ginny’s approval, zabini walked away the same direction he had come from. leaving ginny tired, panting, and most of all dreading what was to come.

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red - wolfstar

when sirius was eleven years old, the red and gold of gryffindor shone like the stars, giving him freedom he had never felt before. sirius decided that red was his favourite colour, a stark contrast from the green and silver and white from back home.

when sirius was twelve years old, the red flickering of fireplaces gave him a bigger sense of family than the green flames of his house. red reminded him of the marauders and of secret passageways and of red cheeks from running so fast on cold evenings.

when sirius was thirteen years old, he could see the red lips of marlene mckinnon and couldn’t help feeling disgusted. he saw the red lines on remuses skin and felt confused and worried and scared. his red and gold uniform was the wall that kept him away from his baby brother.

when sirius was fourteen years old, all he could see was red. he was angry - furious. he saw remus lupin bleeding red on a hospital bed and was so bloody mad at the man who had done this to him. at the man who made moony ashamed of his own self.

when sirius was fifteen years old, red reminded him of friendship. of james potter and remus lupin and peter pettigrew. red was the colour that giggling girls had on their cheeks as they approached their group. crowns may have been gold, but theirs were blinding red.

when sirius was sixteen years old red was the colour of remus’s face as he shouted at sirius for what he had done. red was the light that shown as sirius had sex with a boy for the first but all he could think of was remus. red was the anger remus held in the glares was he found sirius kissing a boy in the astronomy tower even after everything remus and sirius had talked about.

when sirius was seventeen years old, red was love. red was the colour of lily evans’s hair as she kissed james for the first time in the middle of the gryffindor common room. red tinted peter’s cheeks as sirius opened a christmas present that he knew was more than peter could afford. red was the colour that flushed remus’s skin as they danced and did some other things in the moonlight. red was the colour of remus’s lips as the pair stumbled into the common room.

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sirius was never one for slowing down and stopping. ever since he was young, he was g o g o g o. he could never stop to take a breath because of he did the amplitude of his home would crash in and he was no atlas. he could not hold up his world with his two bare arms, so instead he would run until he couldn’t run any more.

at seventeen sirius is so different. he runs and runs and runs away from his problems and the war and ignores it all by focusing on messing with the slytherins. he knows that the so called pranks are different from how they used to be. they are more dangerous and vile and sirius honestly does not give a damn.

he can’t stop and his friends know. they have quiet whispered conversations while sirius black is going faster and faster as he zips around the quidditch pitch on his broom. he cannot will not stop.

even with remus his brain is always always always running away. he and remus kiss and shag and laugh and then sirius is moving on to the next thing.

sirius is taking potions to keep him alive because he never sleeps. his friends know, because they eye him with worry as he leaves the dorm every night.

he is holding a bottle of firewhisky in one arm and a bottle of slogreen’s no-sleep in the other.

he is running and running because that is the only way he can pretend all his friends are safe and everything is okay and then one monday it all comes crashing down because mary macdonald is fucking dead.

she hadn’t shown up at school the previous week and they had just thought her family was keeping her safe and then a newspaper was dropped on their table by a crying fourth year and then lily and dorcas and remus and even james were all crying and sirius was scared.

he didn’t want to stop, he couldn’t stop so he ran and ran and ran and then he was sitting in front of dumbledore and telling him he had to do something to help.

the day after a group of gryffindors were squished together in dumbledores office as they heard the plan to win the fight. to win the war.

sirius was ready to fight and kill and maybe even die to win this war. he was going to run and run and run until he didn’t have to run anymore.

sirius wanted to keep running after he found the potters dead. he wanted to keep running after he found peter. he wanted to fucking flee and spend the rest of his life running with remus in hand when the aurors were filing in.

but sirius just didn’t have it in him to run any more.

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a collection of richie tozier’s dream journals

dream journal #1

i dreamt of fire trucks and cotton candy. the fire trucks were red and the cotton candy was pink and the colours kept swirling and swirling and i felt like i was getting caught in a whirlpool. it dragged me in deeper and deeper until i couldn’t breathe and all i could hear was screaming and then i woke up. is that how bill’s brother felt when he drowned in the sewers? i hope not.

dream journal #2

fuck pennywise. i dreamt of him, he was killing eddie and i was so scared and couldn’t move because apperently dream me is a pussy. i woke up and called eddie and he was pissed off at me but it was worth it.

dream journal #3

i dreamt of jumping into the lake with my friends. it was short and swirly and i miss bev even if she doesn’t have tits. john from school says you can’t be friends with a girl if she doesn’t have nice tits. john is a wimp anyway so it doesn’t matter what he says.

dream journal #4

i fell asleep late last night because stan was sleeping over so we stayed up talking. when i fell asleep i dreamt that we were back in the sewers and stan had those marks on his face again and they were bleeding and bleeding and blood was getting everywhere. i woke up and blood was still all over the room so i screamed. but then stan woke up and hit me and told me it was a nosebleed. i knew understood why i screamed though.

dream journal #7

it was another of those dreams again and i’m not putting much in case someone finds it but it reminded me of how wrong i am why am i like this why can’t i be normal.

dream journal #19

i dreamt of stan’s bat mitzvah again but this time all the others were there. we sat in a row and stan was sitting too which doesn’t make sense. i was sitting next to eddie which reminded me how much i miss him so i felt sad. then there was screaming and all of a sudden bev was a clown and bill was a clown and mike was a clown. all i could here was screaming and pennywise singing in my ear.

dream journal #32

the clown is in every dream I have which doesn’t make sense because it is dead. it is dead it is dead it is dead it is dead it is dead.

dream journal #53

i dreamt of eddie and we were in his room and there was a fan on and suddenly everything started heating up and he looked at me and crawled closer and everything was getting warmer and warmer and the fan kept going and going and all i could see was eddie’s eyes. and a laugh that i couldn’t remember for a long time until i realized it was the clown.

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Hogwarts School for the Arts - 1

Hogwarts School for the Arts was a boarding school going back centuries. Most students were legacies, with one or even two parents having been there before. A select few had a family history at Hogwarts going back too many generations to count. Draco Malfoy was one of those lucky few.

Draco Malfoy, like his mother and father, and every relative before them, was a student of the Musical Arts. The most traditional, and purest of the four Houses at Hogwarts. The best of the four houses.

Draco had been at Hogwarts since he was eleven. He had ended up rooming with three other boys, one of which had become his closest, as well as most hated, friend; Blaise Zabini.

The same Blaise that was currently snogging some bloke on Draco’s pristine bed

“The fuck are you doing Zabini.” Draco asked, strolling in almost too casually. He averted his eyes, picking up the latest edition of the hogwarts newsletter, hiding a smirk as the two boys behind him quickly got dressed.

“Remember Valentines Day?” Blaise asked, crossing his arms as he sat in the armchair across from Draco. The boy had had been with was hurrying out the door, Blaise was unsprisingly done with him.

“You know I wasn’t shagging her Blaise.” Draco muttered, not even looking up at his friend.

“Well yeah, but we didn’t know you were gay at the time, so we all thought you and Pansy were going at it.” Blaise said.

“It’s not my fault if Parkinson thinks sex involves screaming at the top of her lungs.” He replied. He and Pansy had been fake dating, and still technically were, but Pansy wanted to officially lose her virginity. She had technically done it the night before with one of the dancers in their year, but she didn’t want people thinking she was a cheater.

“How do you know what girls sound like during sex then, Draco?” Blaise grinned, obviously assuming he knew more than Draco did. (as if)

Draco pauses, glancing up at Blaise. He tossed his reading material down as a dramatic touch before he began his story. “I was what- fifteen maybe? She was in the year above us and I think she played the flute. My parents invited her over to try and arrange a relationship but we ended up fucking. I was rather awful at it and she knew well enough I didn’t care.”

Blaise was scowling at that point, and stood up to walk away. Draco didn’t care much. He knew people often tired of him due to their jealousy, but it wasn’t his fault.

“Are you going to the show tonight?” Draco asked, trying to draw Blaise back in. He enjoyed their little back and forths, as it often led to a blow out that would make their entire house take sides.

“And watch Potter’s little gang prance about in what they consider art?” Blaise asked, with a sneer. Draco and Blaise shared very similar views on the Dramatic Arts - they found them utterly deplorable and obnoxious.

“McGonagall is making me.” Draco complained, tossing his hair once. He spent hours making it perfect, so he was allowed to flounce it every once in a while.

Blaise laughed, and Draco realized with disappointment that he knew what he was doing. “So Pansy doesn’t want to go? And you’re trying to get me to come.” Blaise grinned, throwing his head back and laughing. Draco rolled his eyes, his friend really needed to stop laughing like that, it demeaned him.

“I didn’t say that.” Draco muttered, staring Blaise straight on, that was the most likely way Blaise would believe him.

“Nah. But you thunk it.”

Draco scowled at Blaise’s language, they were both brought up in similar ways and yet Blaise still proceeded to talk like a total Neanderthal.

“Are you gonna come then?” Draco asked, frowning.

Blaise laughed once more, and Draco barely got any pleasure in the awful way he laughed.

“You couldn’t even pay me.”

Draco scowled, he always did so much for people, and here they were leaving him out to dry. He was practically head of the house, and a prefect for that matter, and yet people still didn’t respect him as they should.

He most certainly was not looking forward to whatever little thing Potter and his gang had cooked up for this evening. And he was not going to enjoy it. Not one bit.

[americasarse]

happy ~ ginny weasley

-

ginny weasley treats love the same way she treats quidditch. she falls in love with harry potter and it is slow and steady and there are some difficulties at first just like that first ride on a broom.

once she is up in the air though, she is flying. she and harry dance through life, running and laughing and smiling and crying. when ginny weasley is on a broom she can ignore every single problem in the world. all she focuses on is the game.

ginny ignores all the scars and nightmares and death and destruction and instead she just focuses on dumb little dates with harry. they don’t talk about the nightmares that cause each of them to wake up screaming during the night.

when ginny gets onto the holyhead harpies she is ecstatic. just about the same time, she realizes she is pregnant and she is scared because she does not know how to do both but she ignores it instead.

ginny weasley is screaming as her team wins their first game. ginny weasley is screaming seven months later when she is pushing that stupid screaming baby out.

ginny is looking at this perfect angel and looking up at harry and smiling because how could she ever be sad when she has these perfect beings around her. she is smiling with her team and drinking during her first match back with the baby in her mother’s care.

ginny weasley is fighting with harry. they are fighting and the baby is screaming and she is so so mad because they have never fought before not once and suddenly every single thing from years comes tumbling out.

ginny weasley flies aggressively, she flies and she pushes and she grabs and she barely raises an eyebrow when she watches someone from the other team wobble on their broom because she is about to get some points.

ginny is falling, falling, falling.

she looks at the divorce papers and looks at harry and her heart is falling in her chest because she hadn’t realized she had to sign them so soon. she holds a little baby to her chest and wants to cry because this little piece of harry is now the only piece she has.

ginny is playing quidditch, hard and rough and then there’s a tumble and she is in the air. ginny is falling through the air with nothing to grab onto and she just closes her eyes and hopes she’ll open them again on a hospital bed.

ginny weasley is twenty three years old with a baby on her hip and her quidditch laundry under her arm and she is t r y i n g to get it resized but it’s not working. she smiles gratefully as another woman offers to help her only to realize it’s luna, someone she hadn’t seen in ages.

ginny weasley plays quidditch skillfully, with jests and jokes and a smile on her face. she knows the risks, the knows the strategy, and she knows the game and how she wants to play it. she is captain of the team and she knows more than anything that she deserves it.

ginny weasley has fallen in love again except this time it’s blonde hair and floaty hands and lots and lots of laughter. they talk for hours about the war and their sadness, and yet talk for hours still about the future and what they want.

ginny weasley is captain of the holyhead harpies and in love with luna lovegood and going to therapy once a week.

but most importantly, ginny weasley is happy.

[americasarse]

Pansy Parkinson Headcanons | TW : eating disorders, suicide

she was very chubby growing up, and probably overweight

she and draco grew up together because they were both like old pureblood families

she was not at all popular for her first couple years, and was only really known because she annoyed Draco

She had her first kiss when she was thirteen with Vincent Crabbe

When she was fourteen she started developing an eating disorder and to the end of her fourth year she had full fledged anorexia

She started becoming popular in the end of her fourth year, and kissed Draco towards the end

They dated all throughout that summer

During fifth year she was very much super popular and also realized she liked girls too

She started to suspect Draco didn’t like her like she liked him, but mostly let it go because she figured they’d get married

She lost her virginity on her birthday before her sixth year with Draco

Draco started crying and she knew he was gay but they decided to continue dating

He got the dark mark, and she didn’t partly because her mother wasn’t involved either, and partly because she was terrified

She figured that after the war she would get married to draco

She and Daphne become very close during their sixth year and fooled around a bit

Throughout her sixth year she was very affected by what was hapenning to draco and the war overall and drank multiple times a week

Once seventh year started, Pansy and Daphne spent almost every night in the same bed, but didn’t do that much as they were both terrified

She gave up Harry Potter because she wanted her friends to be safe, but not because she supported Voldemort, although she wanted him to win

When the battle was over, Pansy immediately left England and stayed in France with Daphne for a bit

After the trials, she came back eventually becoming very depressed

She lost a ton of money, and eventually married Gregory Goyle despite them not loving each other

Greg kills himself when Pansy is thirty, and she falls into a bad depression

She moves in with Draco, who is dating Harry at this point

Through it all, Pansy still remains snark and rude to any outsiders

She keeps things inside, refusing to let it show

She still dislikes Harry despite what Draco wants

[americasarse]

i’ll see you on the other side of the war - drarry

-

harry stood on the porch of a muggle motel, looking out at the mostly empty parking lot. it was a hot summer day, but the clouds in the sky suggested a rain that would be coming soon.

“are you coming back in?” a male voice called, through the screen door behind harry.

harry shook his head, heading back into the rented bedroom he had paid for the night previous. passing through the screen door, he found draco malfoy laying back in the bed they had shared, an unknown expression on his face.

“what‘re you thinking about?” harry asked, yawning as he stretched out, noting draco’s glance watching him as he did so. “see something you like?” harry grinned, looking around for wherever he had left his shirt.

“i have something for you.” draco said, his expression still something harry couldn’t read. he moved out of the bed, his state of dress similar to the one harry was currently in.

harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued as to what draco was going to give him. his friend ? is that what they were ? wasn’t one to give things out easily.

draco reached under the bed, bringing up a small box about the size of his fist. he practically thrust it into harry’s lap, avoiding eye contact.

“happy birthday.”

harry grinned, looking at draco. “you got me a birthday present?” he asked teasingly, enjoying the way his companion squirmed under his gaze.

“you know i’m not even sixteen yet.” harry commented, beginning to open the box. inside was a ring, shining silver, with something written on the inside of it.

“it’s just something to remember me by.” draco said, finally facing harry, although his eyes seemed to be years away.

“oh.” harry said quietly, finally understanding what the gift was. “so this is it then, nothing more?” he asked, a sharp tinge of anger running through him.

“i’m getting it this month.”

harry felt his heart fall. he figured that somewhere, he had always known draco would have to get the mark, he had just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. he wanted to have more time.

“i’m sorry.” draco muttered, looking harry in the eyes finally. “i’m a coward.”

yes you are harry wanted to say. he wanted to yell and scream and tell draco to prove that he cared about harry and to run away with him and fight for the other side.

instead all harry did was shrug. he slipped the ring onto his finger, it fit easily. it was small and silver, far more modest than most things draco’s family owned.

“what does it say inside?” harry asked, grabbing draco’s hand with the finger with ring on it.

“through life and death.” draco said.

the message was dark, but harry knew that it may very well ring true.

“there’s a war beginning.” harry murmered, pressing his lips to the top of draco’s hand. “please survive.”

draco stood after a long silence, pulling his hand out of harry’s grip. he went to pick up his clothes, “i’ll see you on the other side of the war.”

harry nodded, swallowing hard. he knew that the chances of that hapenning were low, but he wished more than anything for them to be true.

“on the other side of the war.”