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Scarred and Broken
My first attempt at something within the WRU universe. OC Romantic becomes the pet of a fraternity. Not sure where things will go from there.
094769 is sent out for delivery on a beautiful fall day. Not that she gets to see it. From her position curled up in her delivery box, she can’t see anything,
She is so thirsty. And tired. And needy.
“It’s here,” a voice says from a million miles away.
She just focuses on breathing.
After a bit of jostling, the lid opens and she blinks up into a brightly lit room.
“It says to give her the water to establish a primary owner.”
“Dibs!”
“You can’t fucking call dibs on this, dude.”
She is so thirsty.
The water bottle is sitting in a hand only a couple of feet away.
“Fletcher should do it. He put in the biggest stake,” another voice says.
“Fine. Gimme it,” a different person says.
And then the water bottle is pressed to her lips and she blinks until she can focus on the face offering her the water.
Fletcher.
As a romantic, 094769 is supposed to be sexy, and pleasing to the eye. Not like this. Not covered in sweat and panting like an animal.
So she slows her drinking pace and shifts from her place in the box onto the floor, kneeling with her knees wide and her back arched.
Position two.
“Enough?” Fletcher asks, pulling the water bottle back.
“Yes, thank you, Master,” she answers, sultry. She bats her lashes in that way her trainer had loved.
A few voices hoot around her and she takes in the crowd.
There are approximately a dozen men, all young, standing and staring at her.
Fletcher seems like he might be the oldest. He’s tall.
“What’s her name?” A man to her right asks.
“She doesn’t have one. The manual says her owner can pick any name they want. Or she can keep her training number,” another man reads from a pamphlet with writing on it that 094769 can’t read.
She stares for a moment longer until the familiar pain presses against her forehead.
“What’s your training number?” Fletcher asks.
“094769, Master,” she answers, pouting her lips and widening her knees.
“Sixty- nine? Oh come on, that’s fucking priceless, man,” someone says. It sounds like the same voice that had said the other man couldn’t call dibs.
She thinks she knows what dibs is, but she doesn’t dwell on figuring it out.
The handsome man in front of her is her Master. Her owner. Her everything.
Whatever he wants from her, he will have.
“We aren’t calling her a number, Jack,” Fletcher says. “How about Stella? Or Josie?”
She loves them both.
Her Master is so kind to think of such beautiful names for her.
“Aren’t those a bit- human?”
“Yeah, Fletch. We don’t want her to get confused.”
“How about Candy?”
“Fuck yeah. Or Chastity. Fucking ironic that would be.”
The men throw out a couple more names but Fletcher just looks at her, thinking.
“Scarlett,” he says after a long moment. “Her name is Scarlett.”
It doesn’t garner any more objections but it doesn’t matter anyway, Scarlett has her name.
“Thank you, Master. Scarlett is a beautiful name,” she says, leaning forwards and kissing the top of his shoe. It is a sneaker. Different from the boots of the trainers.
“You’re welcome, Scarlett. Welcome to Delta Mu.”
“Best fucking fraternity in the damn world!” Jack whoops.
Mara looks past the gathered men, taking in the photo boards on the walls and the cabinets full of liquor and trophies.
Her new owner lives in a fraternity.
And from the way they are all looking at her, he got her to share.
What had the voice said?
He put in the biggest stake?
Scarlett smiles and pulls the white facility tshirt over her head and sets it inside the box.
Then she stands up as gracefully and sexy as she can manage and coyly pushes the black facility shorts down her legs, until she is standing there naked.
“How can I serve you, Master?” She asks in the breathy voice it had taken her months to get perfect.
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Reblog the writers’ fortune cookie for luck!
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I love you
For all of the moments I had spent waiting for him to tell me he loved me, when he finally did, I was wildly underwhelmed. Wildly.
To begin with, it was three in the afternoon. Who confesses their love at three in the afternoon?
And for another thing, who says those three little words in line at a Dunkin Donuts?
I mean Dunkin Donuts? Really? Not even one of those cute niche coffee “shoppes” that spell shop with a hundred extra letters?
Worst of all, I was seriously hungover.
We had gone to a concert the night before. A country music concert.
One of those barefoot on the beach concerts where everybody screams the lyrics so loud you can’t hear the actual artist. There was a song about love and… boats? Beer. No, maybe it was horses. I don’t know, but that certainly would have been a better time to say I love you.
So now, I have to figure out if the words are enough.
It’s barely a complete sentence. I love you. If I had turned that in for my first-grade English test, Mrs. Collins would have written, “Good work, but a little short.”
He followed it up by buying me coffee. Using a gift card. A gift card I gave him.
Actions speak louder than words. I don’t know who said it, but they were right.
Who am I to expect more though? He said what I wanted him to.
I love you. So that night I blew him. Because I wasn’t ready to say it back. Not in line at a Dunkin Donuts with my hair greasy and knotted. So I let the action speak for me.
He said it three more times while I was giving him head. I don’t really want to count any of those times either.
The first time should have been incredible.
With a bouquet of flowers or a three-piece suit. On the beach or a boat or even a train for God’s sake.
Laying in bed on a Sunday morning, freshly squeezed orange juice.
Any motion picture moment really. I’m envisioning Pretty Woman but even I can admit I’m no Julia Roberts.
Dunkin Donuts is for meet-cutes. The first scene of the movie. Where they both reach for the coffee or someone buys the last donut.
Not the scene where he finally bucks up the courage to tell you he loves you.
So now I am bitter. Bitter about the man I love loving me back.
Totally insane. I recognize that. And yet, I can’t help but feel this way.
I don’t settle. I never have. But the moment has come and gone and I have no choice but to settle. To accept that that was my I love you.
He was standing behind me. His arms around my waist. His nose pressed against my neck. He checked to make sure I felt okay. Told me he was going to buy me a strawberry frosted donut with sprinkles. Those are my favorite.
I love you, he said just for me.
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once the veil began to envelop sirius, he no longer saw the mortal world. but rather the world he was entering: the afterlife.
you just know
that after fourteen long years, sirius finally saw james again.
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@highly-functioning-hedgehogs thanks for the prompt!
Join the Fic Celebration! | G U I D E L I N E S
Alternatively, find some drabble prompts here (though you aren’t limited!)
Friday, November 18 1979, Lily & James’ Apartment
“Excellent, thank you,” Lily sighed happily, taking the plastic bags full of Chinese food.
“I did as you asked,” Sirius said, shrugging out of his coat and slinging it on the back of a kitchen chair. “I got you three entrees. And egg rolls. And wontons.”
“I’m here to feast,” said Lily, her lips pursing in the first threads of a smile.
“You know you could have gone out yourself,” Sirius pointed out. “You aren’t actually in hiding,”
“Yet,” said Lily morosely, rifling through the plastic bags.
“Lils.”
“Look; James is out-“
“Working,” Sirius reminded her.
“I know.”
“And spying.”
“I know.”
“At the Ministry of Magic. Just like his dad.”
“Yeah, and sometimes…” Lily hesitated as she shrugged and threaded her fingers through all the bags to hoist them to the couch where they were set to pig out, table be damned.
“Yeah?” Sirius carefully didn’t look at her.
“Sometimes I think it’s good there’s a war on. That James has another reason for being there.”
“Yeah?”
“He hates it,” she said flatly. “Magical law? It’s paperwork. James hates drudgery like that. He wants to be active.”
“Yes, I know,” said Sirius dryly. “I shared a dormitory with him for seven years. He can’t sit still for five minutes.”
“I’m just glad he didn’t go through all the schooling and all the trouble and all the money to find himself stuck in a career he hates for a man he loved.”
Sirius sank into the cushions and popped open the fried rice in one hand and spicy beef in the other. Lily took his cue and began to cram an eggroll into her cheek.
“Thanks for coming over,” Lily said finally after they had been scarfing food down in companionable, disgusting silence. Lily was easily keeping pace with Sirius, who was a known voracious eater.
“Yeah, well, work hours are flexible,” Sirius grinned.
“Not you too,” sighed Lily.
“It’s just more fun to spy for the Order. I’ve got more uses for Padfoot. I only have to go into R&D three times a week. I pull long shifts, and I can leave to be free to do…other things,” he grinned cheekily, then nudged Lily with his foot. “Not like you are exempt.”
“You can write from home,” Lily said testily.
“Yeah. Because you’re such a house hag.”
“Shut up. And you know the Order Missions I go on aren’t for spying.”
“True,” Sirius said with his mouth full. “You’re a good dueler.”
“Not as good as you.”
Sirius grinned smugly and changed the subject. “How are the wontons?”
“What wontons?”
“I got-“ Sirius stopped, seeing the angelic smile on Lily’s face. “Damn it,” he frowned. “I wanted one.”
Lily was unrepentant. “Then you should have eaten one earlier. All’s fair in love and war.”
“What?”
“Muggle-ism,” Lily shrugged.
“And how is love?” Sirius asked her shrewdly, taking another enormous bite of the beef, finishing it off, and chucking it back in the bag before popping open the dumplings. Three were already missing, and he frowned at them before he caught Lily’s grin as she sucked duck sauce off her little finger.
“What do you mean?” Lily asked cautiously, avoiding eye contact by peering into the next carton and picking up a plastic fork for the chow mein.
“You know what I mean,” Sirius said smuggling, popping a dumpling in a cheek and immediately hissing through his teeth to vent the steam. “The dirty deed. Riding the broomstick. Chasing the –“
“Stop,” Lily told him severely.
Sirius waited.
She blushed.
“It’s fine,” she lied unconvincingly.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah? And how’s your sex life?” she snapped irritably.
“Excellent,” said Sirius, deftly using chopsticks to pick up and bite another dumpling in half with great relish. “Why do you think I’m so relaxed and breezy and you’re so…”
Keep reading
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Your First 5 Pages
When you send a novel to an agent or publisher, they normally ask for the first five or ten pages, just so that they can gauge your writing skill. If those pages don’t grab the reader, it won’t sell.
As an editor, I read thousands of stories a year, and it would be difficult to tell you all of the ways that you can go wrong, or all of the things that you can do right. But let’s hit some main points:
1) From the very first sentence, I want to see that you’re not just a competent writer, but a skillful one. I want to see that you have a way with words, so that I feel as if I’m in the hands of a professional storyteller. That means that I won’t feel confused, and I won’t get tripped up by typos or beginner’s mistakes. Indeed, I want to see that you’re talented right from the first sentence. Half of the editors and agents say that they look for a great voice right out the gate, whether it be the voice of the narrating character or of the author.
2) I want to know (or at least have some great hints) where and when the story is taking place. It helps if the setting is intriguing and beautifully drawn. Of course, when you bring that setting to life, you should appeal to most of the senses quickly—sight, sound, smell, touch, taste.
3) I want to know who the protagonist is and I want to see you handling the viewpoint properly. This means that the protagonist moves, has an emotional state, and thinks, so that we aren’t seeing the tale from a camera’s point of view, but from a real person’s. More than that, it is often helpful if the character is likeable or interesting or even both.
4) In the opening five pages, I must see a hint of an intriguing conflict, one that is already building toward a climax. To get that in quickly, this means that you almost need to start the story in media res.
5) In my business as a science fiction and fantasy editor, I want to see some novelty—something that tells me that your work is original, that you’re capable of coming up with something new.
Now, that’s my short list. I could go on and suggest that I want to see that you know how to construct a scene, that you can dazzle the reader in subtle ways that most pros know, that you know how to construct a plot, that you tastefully insert the emotional draws your audience is hoping for, that you are a pro at constructing believable dialog—and a dozen other little things.
But as you can see, for the first five pages, I can only hope for so much. All that I really want is to be convinced that you’re one of the greatest discoveries that I’ve ever made. If you think that an agent or editor wants anything less, you’re mistaken. The truth is that every editor and every agent who reads your manuscript is hoping that your tale demands to be published
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i hope harry took full advantage of being able 2 say he literally died and came back 2 life to save the wizarding world like *has to queue for ten minutes outside the ministry entrance to get into work* ‘i did not die for this’ *hermione is nagging him for some paper work* ‘i already literally died for the wizarding world hermione is that not enough’ *draco makes a smug comment in the corridor* ‘shut up malfoy i died for your sins’
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If 2016 was a person, it would be Joffrey Baratheon.
(via katlizzle)
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i used to think that a foot of parchment was a lot and feel bad when harry potter characters were assigned to write that much
but then i realized the paper i write on is 8.5 by 11 inches.
so a foot of parchment is the equivalent of like, a page and a half of paper.
they complained SO MUCH about essays that were like
a page and a half
wtf guys
get your shit together
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Angst/fluff Prompt List
Please don’t repost (stealing isn’t cool, but reblog if you wish) <3 <3
“I love you, please don’t go.”
“Stay here tonight.”
“Please don’t walk out of that door.”
“I thought things were going great.”
“Don’t you love me?”
“You make every day worth living.”
“I’ll keep you warm.”
“I’m never letting you go.”
“You meant too much to me.”
“I won’t let you.”
“How could you ask me that?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.”
“You look amazing tonight.”
“Shouldn’t you be with him/her?”
“I’ve got you.”
“I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”
“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“How are you feeling today?”
“You look amazing tonight.”
“We’ll figure this out.”
“This isn’t goodbye.”
“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”
“Wanna go grab a drink?”
“What the hell were you thinking?!”
“Here, let me help you.”
“Kiss me.”
“I care about you.”
“You could have warned me!”
“That was unexpected.”
“You haven’t lost me.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Don’t cry.”
“Please don’t do this.”
“You make me feel safe.”
“You’ve shown me what love can feel like.”
“Thank you, for everything.”
“All I wanted was for you to be happy.”
“I can’t do this on my own.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”
“Don’t be afraid.”
“You’re always on my mind.”
“You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
“You’ve always felt like home.”
“I can’t imagine this world without you.”
“Dance with me.”
“Trust me.”
“Why are you crying?”
“Who hurt you?”
“Nothing is wrong with you.”
“You make me feel alive.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
“Who cares about what they think?”
“Let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“You’ve always got me.”
“I’ve waited for this moment for a long time.”
“Is this okay?”
“You look like you could use a hug.”
“Did you need something?”
“Do you have a ride home?”
“I am home.”
“What happened back there?”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“Why me?”
“I’m right where I belong.”
“Fine.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”
“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?”
“You need sleep.”
“Excuse me?”
“What are you doing?”
“What did you expect?”
“You’re not alone.”
“We’re meant for each other.”
“You’re worth it.”
“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”
“I’ve always been honest with you.”
“It’s cold, you should take my jacket.”
“Just breathe, okay?”
“When I’m with you, I’m happy.”
“Going somewhere?”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Don’t be scared, I’m right here.”
“You’re so adorable.”
“I’m better, now that you’re here.”
“I could never forget you.”
“Forget it.”
“That’s in the past.”
“You make me happy.”
“You’re more than that.”
“I won’t lose you too.”
“Come cuddle.”
“Can’t you stay a little longer?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I’ve had enough.”
“I fell in love with you, not them.”
“You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to.”
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“I was born with a reading list that I will never finish”
Everyone (via aesthetic-bookworm)
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Why does everything turn into wolfstar smut?
Maybe some time around the age of 16 Remus’s transformations stop leaving him weak and hollow
In fact, they start to have the opposite effect
Not that Remus notices; as usual his brilliant mind is always quietly occupied
But Sirius notices
Merlin Sirius notices
It starts with his shoulders, he can’t help but eye the way they sit a little broader when Remus stands up straight
Then it’s his forearms, Sirius can see the tendons stand out a little when Remus lies on the sofa and holds his book above his head.
After the next full moon, it’s his biceps - they start pushing against his shirt when he leans over his potions essay, and Sirius’s mouth all but drops to the floor
Suddenly it’s hard to be around Remus, literally, without feeling a tightness growing in his trousers
The boys sit opposite each other in the library for hours, an endless pile of homework and exam prep leaving them caught in a dizzying cycle of work, eat, sleep
They all need some relief, but fuck Sirius needs a very specific kind of relief
Exams are so close, and he has to focus, but just a look at Remus could flick a switch in his body
Even his hands, somehow his hands look bigger, stronger
Sirius starts biting down hard on his lip each time his eyes drift to his boyfriend in class, or the library, or the common room (okay, just about everywhere)
But after half a day his bottom lip becomes red and puffy
Instead Sirius finds himself disappearing to the toilets to splash cold water on his face more often than he’d like to admit
When Remus’s arm winds protectively around him as they walk down a busy corridor, he has to bite back a whine
And when Remus strolls out of the shower one morning, a towel slung low around his hips, Sirius just sits and stares
Because his chest, Christ his chest has transformed
And it was all Sirius could do not to go over there and beg Remus to deal with his painfully hard arousal, right there in front of James and Peter
And when Remus caught him, eyes roving greedily across his bare skin and freshly tousled hair, he just stared right back and winked
Sirius rolled over in bed and bit down so hard on his pillow he could have torn it apart
This day was particularly torturous, and it didn’t help that the summer heat had Remus loosening the top few buttons of his shirt
Or that, in transfiguration, his hand had been resting high on Sirius’s thigh the whole time Frank was explaining petrification.
Or that, as they walked to the library, Remus slid Sirius’s bag from his shoulder and slung it easily across his own, winding an arm around his waist
By time they sat down Sirius was almost at breaking point, his frustration had his heart beating overtime and his head cloudy
He cast his eyes down, trying desperately to ignore his boyfriend’s newly broadened shoulders, or his tight, hard chest
Or the way his arms looked when he stretched out like that, fuck
Sirius’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood up, muttering half an excuse about the bathroom
He didn’t feel connected to his feet as they carried him through the library, eyebrows furrowed and head fuzzy
He didn’t notice Remus until his fingers were locked around his wrists, and his whole body tugged sideways
Sirius’s soft moan of surprise was muffled by Remus’s lips, which collided with his before he could even gather his surroundings
Remus’s hand travelled to Sirius’s neck, his thumb pressing gently into the soft skin, while his other grasped at his hips
Sirius thought his legs would give way at any moment
Just as abruptly as it began, Remus drew away, focusing his burning eyes on Sirius
“You keep disappearing.” He murmured “And you won’t look at me.”
He pressed a thumb to Sirius’s puffy bottom lip “You’re not telling me something Sirius.”
Again, Remus’s hand slid back to Sirius’s neck, a gentle pressure aiding the fuzzy euphoria Sirius felt at his touch
“Tell me.” He growled.
When his face blurred back into view, an almost delirious Sirius saw Remus’s expression harden
“I can take it.” He said, lowly
Sirius frowned, still breathless, resisting the urge to buck his hips into Remus’s warm, gorgeous body
“It’s you.” He murmured, looking down
Suddenly, inexplicably, he felt ashamed
“You’ve changed and I can’t - I can’t cope. It’s not that I didn’t like you before, I love you whatever you - what ever you look like - and you were always gorgeous, but now you’re just, you’re just kind of perfect and it’s just” Remus’s proximity making Sirius almost incoherent.
“…it’s just your shoulders got bigger, and your arms, and I can’t stop, I can’t focus and I know you just want to work and there’s no time for it so I was trying not to bother you but fuck Remus.”
“What?” Remus’s hand tilted Sirius’s chin up, forcing him to meet his confused gaze.
Sirius shuttered under his boyfriend’s newly bulky frame
“You’re not…” Remus frowned. “I thought you liked someone else.”
Sirius nearly choked. “What?” He spluttered.
“Remus” He snapped, taking control and pushing himself closer to the boy. “I can’t focus on anything but you. I can’t study, I can’t sleep, I can’t look at you in class without…” Sirius groaned and pushed his hips against Remus, using his hard arousal to illustrate his point.
Sirius pressed frantic kisses into to the soft skin on Remus’s neck. “And when you came out of the shower today…”
Sirius’s sentence ended in a gasp as his back hit a smooth, cool wall. Remus’s warm mouth was at his neck, his hands pressing down his sides, their bodies flush against each other
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Remus growled. “Why didn’t you let me help you?”
Sirius only moaned in response as Remus’s thigh found its way between his legs, pressing teasingly against him
“Sirius.” Remus growled again. “Why?”
“You were…busy.” Sirius groaned, feeling Remus grip his chin.
“Look at me.” Remus ordered, his eyes burning. “I am never too busy for you, Sirius Black.”
Sirius looked at his boyfriend, panting. His hips bucked into Remus, and he tried to connect their lips again, but he felt a strong hand push him back, denying him.
“Now, say it back to me.” Ordered Remus. “I’m never too busy to fuck you, say it back.”
Sirius shuttered, Remus telling him what to do was just, fuck.
“You’re never too busy to fuck me.” Sirius’s need was turning his voice into a desperate whine, but Remus didn’t move.
His eyes burned into Sirius’s, and his voice was low and threatening. “Next time you need me, you’re going to tell me, okay? You’re going to say: ‘Remus, I need you to fuck me now.’ And I’m then going to fuck you, okay?”
Sirius’s eyes almost rolled upwards, his whole body was trembling.
“Remus,” Sirius managed to whisper, somewhat calmly. “I need you to fuck me now.”
Sirius shuttered as he felt Remus grip the back of his thighs, easily lifting Sirius up and pressing him against the wall, his legs now hooked around his waist.
“Good boy.” Remus whispered.
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i totally would watch a sitcom about a bunch of wizards in the style of friends
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Conversation
Harry Potter Character Asks
Harry Potter: Tell us about a scar on your body
Hermione Granger: What is your favorite book, how many times have you read it, and why do you love it?
Ron Weasley: Something you're afraid of?
Luna Lovegood: One thing that makes you different from everyone else.
Fred Weasley: Can you do any magic tricks? What is the best one you can do? If you can't do any, what's the best one you've seen?
George Weasley: What is the best prank you've ever played on someone?
Neville Longbottom: Tell us an embarrassing story.
Narcissa Malfoy: Do you have a good relationship with your family? Who are you closest to?
Voldemort: If you were to create a Horcrux(s), what would it be and why?
Bellatrix Lestrange: Have you ever loved someone who could never love you back?
Ginny Weasley: Have you ever been in love with an unexpected person?
Hedwig: If you went to Hogwarts, what kind of pet would you bring? (ex: cat, owl, rat, frog)
Draco Malfoy: Is it better to be feared or to be loved?
Rubeus Hagrid: What is your favorite mystical creature?
Dolores Umbridge: Make a list of rules that your family (or whoever you choose) would have to follow if you made the rules.
Lucius Malfoy: What is your most prized possession?
Molly Weasley: What is the proudest moment of your life?
Dobby: Who are you most loyal to?
Sirius Black: Have you ever been accused of doing something you didn't do?
Argus Filch: What's the worst job you've ever had?
Dudley Dursley: How many presents do you usually receive on your birthday?
Peter Pettigrew: Are you a leader or a follower?
Cedric Diggory: Have you ever had a near death experience?
Albus Dumbledore: What is the greatest obstacle you have ever overcome in your life?
Minerva McGonagall: What is your favorite spell?
Severus Snape: Are you a trustworthy person?
Remus Lupin: If you transform into any one animal or creature, which one would it be?
Uncle Vernon: What is your favorite day of the week?
Mad Eye Moody: Who is the bravest person you know?
Arthur Weasley: What do you think is the best "muggle" invention?
Professor Sprout: What is your favourite class that is offered at Hogwarts?
Nymphadora Tonks: If you could change one thing about your appearance what would it be?
Moaning Mertile: What is something that always makes you cry?
James Potter: Would you risk your life to save someone you truly love?
Lily Potter: What color eyes do you have?
Professor Trelawney: Have you ever dreamt something was going to happen and then it happened?
Mr. Ollivander: What would your wand look like?
Lavender Brown: Who is the last person who texted and have you ever had a crush on them?
Cho Chang: If you were on the Quidditch team, what position would you play?
Aunt Petunia: What is your favorite flower?
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why are breakfast dates not a more popular thing? like forget your 9pm fancy dinner reservation, lets go eat pancakes at 9am in our pjs
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