#they are literally Nagini with wings

[lizzybeeee]

Cassandra (10 years later):

Cassandra: Perhaps the archdemons are pets for beings who no longer exist!

Solas: Whaaaat???? No that’s crazy?? Don’t be so crazy, Cassandra. Wild idea.

[raziroo]

Riddle Me This - James Potter x Reader

Pairing : James Potter x reader

Genre : Angst

Warnings : Mentions of injuries, reader-inflicted torture, hair pulling, reader-inflicted injuries, mentions of death.

Word count : 5,298

~~~~~

It’s hard being the daughter of the Darkest wizard of all time, of the one they all fear, of Lord Voldemort. Harder than you can imagine.

Because there’s always expectations, and opinions. Expectations have of you, and opinions people have about you. And it’s not good for your own self-esteem when you know that you will never be able to be all that they want you to be. And by ‘they’, I mean my father.

See, contrary to popular belief, Lord Voldemort is capable of caring. Yes, he can never love, and neither can I, but we can care. And for me, that’s enough. Being conceived under the effects of a love potion, my father was doomed to never be able to love; but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capacitated with sympathizing, empathizing, caring. Yes, he would never in a million years be able to experience the joy of being able to love, of being in love, and neither could I, but that was only for the best.

That was one lesson, along with several others, that had been taught to me from the start by my father, and his followers. I could never, ever, ever love. And I should never want to. Because love is for the weak, love is for inferiors. Love itself is weak, and all it does is make bounds for you.

And thus far, I had been successful. I didn’t want love; I didn’t need it. I was capable enough as it is.

Another lesson I’d been taught, was being ambitious, having ambitions. Striving to be the best, being the best, and reveling in the satisfaction of winning, it was a value instilled in me from quite a young age.

And ambitious I was. I reveled in the satisfaction of proving myself right and others wrong; I basked in the glorious feeling of victory, of exceeding expectations.

Being homeschooled since a young age, and that too, with the occasional inputs of the Dark Lord himself, I was a trained witch, and a good one at that. Having Death Eaters as competition, and the constant expectations of being better than each of them, it wasn’t an exaggeration when I say, you do not wish to cross me. I usually came out triumphant in duels, all except when I was ill, or exerted, or when me and father dueled. He was the obvious champion.

But then came along Bellatrix LeStrange. The female, who previously belonged to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, was related to two blood traitors. One was her sister who, despite having such a rich and reputed heritage, eloped with a Hufflepuff. A Hufflepuff. The other was her first cousin, Sirius Black. And in the latter’s case, what surprised me wasn’t the fact that the boy had managed to escape and betray the Blacks, no. It was the fact that he had escaped Walburga Black. The woman was a tyrant, a hurricane, with a pitch high enough to rupture your ears, and fury blinding enough to make you cower back in fear.

I aren’t going to lie, I had severely underestimated the woman. Bellatrix, she was deranged, she was unhinged. Her eyes were maddening and crazy, and her skills beyond average. Her ruthlessness and un-sympathizing nature was what made her all the more an even terrible foe to have. She reveled in screams, hearing people scream and cry and writhe and shout in anguish pleasured her. She wasn’t sick. That made it sound like what she had, had a cure; when in truth, she was insane, off her rocker, and so, so dangerous.

So, as you might have understood, I lost in the duel against Bellatrix. And I had lost bad. Father had refused to speak to me for 6 straight weeks after that, he had been so disappointed. And it hurt me, because all he had ever asked of me to be the best, to strive for perfection, to outdo even the greatest of rivals. And I had failed him that day.

So when father asked me to go attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for the sole purpose of being able to keep an eye on Dumbledore, I had packed my bags without a sound of protest, as much as I dreaded going to the school. I wasn’t thick, I understood the fact that father could have very easily asked any one of his Death Eaters to-be to spy on Dumbledore; he had given me a chance. Something that he didn’t give everyone, and I was grateful.

. . . . .

I hated this place. Students swarming everywhere, so much noise, so many people, it was unbearable. I’d always been one to find solace in loneliness; this place was the exact opposite. I couldn’t fathom how you were meant to actually study in Hogwarts; sounds and voices and whispers and chatters were unescapable, anywhere and everywhere you went. Even the classrooms and the library weren’t spared – the former and latter, both, due to the courtesy of the Marauders.

Oh, the Marauders. They were a whole entire issue separately. A group of rambunctious, untamable, and obnoxious boys, and that too all Gryffindor, whose sole purpose was to create chaos and play pranks, and who went by the name, ‘The Marauders.’ A marauder, typically, means a person who roams around, looking to steal. Sweet Salazar, why would you decide to call yourselves that? And then be proud of it?

The group consisted of four ‘pupils’, if you could even call them that (they were just troublemakers, in my opinion), namely Remus Lupin, the only tolerable one, Peter Pettigrew, the rat-like one, Sirius Black, the blood traitor by choice, and James Potter, blood traitor by family. How very nice.

Now, me, being the live and let live sort of person that I am, didn’t care too much about those four, as long as they kept their noses out of my business. They didn’t. They were all overly curious about my background, my family, why I joined mid-year, et cetera, et cetera. Their curiosity was low-key harassment, in all truth. Merlin, leave me alone. But no, those blood traitors and half-breeds all wanted to invade my privacy, annoy me, make my life hell. So, I returned the favors.

See, father had sent Nagini along, just for a piece of home to be with me. And my snake not only spied on them and contributed in the ‘Trouble the marauders’ project in the day, she contributed during the night as well. And so, I’d ended up here, in an abandoned classroom after curfew, wand pointed at the Marauders after a particularly irritating day.

We Slytherins, every Wednesday morning, shared double potions with the Gryffindors. And as if that wasn’t torturous enough already, Slughorn had fixed seats, because “Some students have been disrupting the decorum of the classroom,” and so now I was seated beside Lily Evans, a “particularly bright muggleborn witch,” as Slughorn said. She was just a pathetic know-it-all, and a mudblood to top it off, in my opinion. The girl was sickeningly sweet, and was all chirpy-chirp when I had been assigned as her partner. She was ecstatic, probably to meet a new person. I was disgusted, probably to meet a new person.

And above that, Pettigrew and Black sat behind us, Lupin and a Slytherin named Severus Snape on a bench on my right, and in the front was Potter, sitting alone. And I know, I know, it seems exaggerated because a real life situation possibly cannot be this bad, but it’s true, trust me. Potter was reciting cheesy pickup lines to the Mudblood, all while she grew angrier, his friends suppressed their laughter, Snape turned green from envy, and I refrained from

 committing bloody murder.

“Hey Evans, why don’t you play Quidditch, you look to be a keeper.”

“Shut up, Potter.”

“Oi Evans, are you a dement-“

“-Sod off-“

“-Or, because I’d die if you kissed me.”

“You don’t die after a dementor’s kiss, Potter, your soul gets sucked.”

“Evans, we may not be-“

“-Godric, no-“

“-In Flitwick’s class, but you sure-“

“-Are a charmer? Potter, you’ve used this.”

“Did you use the stupefy charm, Evans-“

“-Potter, I swear to Morgana I’ll-“

“-Because you sure are a stunner.”

Merlin, this blasphemy was giving me a headache, and making it harder by the second to not kill someone. I was in the process of stirring the cauldron, and Evans was just adding a bit of snakeskin, when Potter abruptly turned around and started speaking, and so, out of shock (or it could be because she was mad), Evans dropped the snakeskin too early, and the potion suddenly became a brilliant blue, instead of a mellow violet, and exploded, covering me and mudblood and potter and Black in goo. On top of that, my hand got burned due to the jump I made on Potter’s suddenness.

As the entire class fell silent after the burst, I slowly brought up my right hand, which was shaking, and wiped off the slimy substance off of my face; the slime made splattering noises as it hit the floor. When I finally opened my eyes, my hands still shaking, I was met with a red-faced mudblood, probably with anger, red-faced Pettigrew and Black, probably with suppressed laughs, and a pale faced Potter.

And trust me, I tried so hard to contain the magic threatening to erupt from inside me; I’d bit my lip the hardest I could, clenched my shaking fists, and closed my eyes, hoping against hope that my magic didn’t lose control. No such luck, however.

Potter and friends were suggested to bedrest for 5 days after that.

Of course, they’d tried to escape out of the hospital win the very same night, and unfortunately, right at the moment I was on my way to the Owlery, so that Celine, my eagle owl, could deliver the letter to father. I was on the fifth floor corridor in the west wing of the castle, when those troublesome Marauders an into me. Literally, straight into me, for they had an invisibility cloak draped around them. How they had managed to escape the nurse even with the cloak was a mystery to me, because there were constant hisses and whispers and mutters coming from the direction in which, occasionally, a pair of feet came into view.

As I bumped into them, their cloak fell off, and I swiftly picked up the letter of mine that had dropped to the floor. “What are you idiots doing here, in the middle of the night?” I asked, brow raised.

They looked stricken for a moment, then sounded Lupin’s voice. “We could ask you the same question,” the scar-faced boy said, still a tad out of breath.

“Yeah, Riddle, what are you doing out here?” Black enquired further.

“That is none of your business, blood traitor,” I said, my tone sharp, eyes cold. Black looked a bit hurt, Lupin pursed his lips in what seemed to be disappointment, Pettigrew whimpered, and Potter looked angry.

“What, did you say to him?” he asked in a tone that would be menacing for some, but not for me. “I merely reminded your friend of what he is , Potter, what he’s become, what he’ll forever be. A blood traitor,” I said in a calm and cool voice, which seemed to irk the raven-haired boy even more.

“It’s alrig-“ Potter, however, cut his friend’s sentence off midway.

“Don’t call him that, you filthy snake,” he snarled.

“Seem to hit a nerve, have I, Potter?”

“You bloody-!”

“WHO’S THERE?” screeched a scratchy, gravelly voice. Filch.

All five of us gave each other a glance, and the next second, we were inside the nearest room, which just so happened to be an abandoned classroom that was priorly used for History of Magic. We all held our breath, until the steps and meows and purrs and grunts faded off into the distance.

“Now, back to what we were-“

“We weren’t doing anything, Potter. You took the truth a little too to the heart, when even your friend didn’t seem so bothered by it.” Potter was going redder in the face by the second. “Now, if you Gryffindors don’t mind, I should get going. I,” I waved my letter-holding hand, “have a letter to deliver.” Just as I turned around, Potter snatched the letter right from my hand. Oh, Merlin, no.

“Let’s see what we have here, hm?” as Potter said that, even Black’s troubled look evaporated from his face. They were back to their bully nature.

“Yes, Prongs, let’s.”

“No!” all four looked up from the half-torn envelope. “I- don’t open that.”

“Why? Why,” Potter waved the now half-torn envelope in a much similar fashion in which I had, “would I return this? Or not open this?”

“It’s a letter containing… things that I would share with people who’re… close to me,” I said, my stance cautious, manipulative mannerisms in progress. Although it would be hard to talk my way out of this one, and that was considering if I even could.

“Close to you, hm? Well then, it’s even more precious,” Black said this time, both dark-haired boys sharing devilish grins, as their friends behind them looked sheepish, but said nothing.

“Black, Potter, please. Don’t be immature,” I tried to reason, but the boys were having none of it, and tore open the envelope fully, and begun reading the letter aloud. “Dear father, I hope you are doing well. You will be pleased to know that Dumbl-“

“Accio letter!” I exclaimed. The letter didn't come into my hand, Black had anticipated this. The boys, having read and heard part of Dumbledore’s name in my letter, had now shed their teasing demeanor and their eyes furiously roamed the piece of parchment, as Lupin cast a Protego so that I wouldn’t be able to Accio anything again. “-that Dumbledore has been unsuccessful in finding out your location. I hope it will continue to be so, seeing that Malfoy and Avery can’t seem to keep their mouths close in presence of Gryffindors. I am sure you can take care of that.

As for the elder Black boy, chances of him joining your ranks seem to be as good as none, considering his constant company is half-breeds, blood traitors, and mudbloods, and he seems keen on troubling each and every Slytherin; he gets into routinely brawls with LeStrange, Crabbe, Goyle, the likes. His friend, the blood traitor Potter, his mother has caught the Dragon Pox,” Potter’s voice broke, “so it is assured that she will not survive. As for his father, Fleamont Potter, the auror, he seems determined to find the cure and weed out each and every member of your ranks; the man is livid. As for the werewolf, his company is same as Black’s; it is highly unlikely he will join your ranks.

My education here is going as expected, the Professors teach me nothing that I don’t already know.

I hope all the information I have been able to convey in this letter will be efficient for you. As always, Nagini has been an absolute darling.

Yours truly.” Potter finished, looking stricken and sad and livid, all at the same time. His friends all were furious, too.

He, however, was angrier than any of them; the mention of his mother’s name, and the fact that he now knew that father’s followers were the cause of his mother’s ailment, only added fuel to the fire.

Although I hadn’t once mentioned father’s name in the letter, it was clear that these four boys, whom I’d just assumed were naïve teenagers, knew more than they let on. And suddenly, it was clear why they bothered me so much, specifically, why I’d become their main target: these boys knew something fishy was up; something that wasn’t just related to a new transfer student.

With trembling hands, and a quivering lip, Potter looked up, eyes ablaze with fear-inducing fury. “You. It was… you, you were involved with… this, all along,” the boy declared more than asked. “You-!”

“OI! Who’s there?!” a scratchy voice asked, from not very far away. Merlin, Filch. I glanced at the boys, panic settling inside me. I couldn’t afford getting caught in an abandoned classroom with four of the most troublesome people I had ever met. My record, up till this day, had been perfectly clean. No failed tests, no late assignments, no detentions. If I got caught today, there would be a huge, ugly, black spot on my school records, as well as my reputation – because one thing I’d learned at Hogwarts was that news travels fast. Faster than I’d like.

In a panic-stricken haze, I made what was possibly the most impulsive decision in the entirety of my life. I pointed my wand, muttered a spell, snatched the letter, disillusioned myself, and fled the classroom as fast as I could. The letter could wait.

. . . . .

As I sat on the Slytherin table the next day, I chewed on my omelette with well-masked anxiety. If the boys came in, and started pointing fingers and started shooting spells at me, I would most certainly be in trouble, and the public humiliation would come hand-in-hand. However, if they’d decided to tell Dumbledore, then my trouble would be doubled. And if, if, by chance, by Salazar’s most divine blessing, my spell had worked, then I could seek refuge here in the castle for more time.

Lost in my thoughts and the chatter surrounding me, I completely missed on the theatrical but yet, routine and typical, entrance of the Marauders. Their flailing hands, arrogant smirks, loud banter and even louder chatter gained a couple students’ attention, though said students went back to what they were doing almost immediately.

As I looked up, the four Gryffindors appeared and behaved as they usually did – without a care in the world. No visible anxiety, no frown, no scowl, and definitely no pointed fingers. I was relieved, and my short sigh indicated so. Just as I was about to really go back to eating my food, I caught the mischievous eyes of one James Potter, and by the look in his eyes for that split-second, I knew something was definitely wrong.

. . . . .

Salazar, I hadn’t expected things to go this wrong.

See, the spell I’d used on the Marauders that night was a simple ‘Obliviate’, and then a bit of memory-modification; the boys were planning a prank to make everyone drowsy, and while they planned, they started messing about, used the spell on each other, and fell asleep. Simple enough, yes?

No.

In my hurry, I’d done something wrong, I don’t know what, and had made James Potter think that he was infatuated with me. And yes, I know, the odds of someone believing that were pretty not in my favour, but James Potter could be pretty persuasive, and the fact that the male had finally moved on and given up after so much time, was… expected.

But such a drastic change wouldn’t be believed. His first choice was the golden girl of Hogwarts, the redheaded muggleborn genius Gryffindor, the one who had a warm aura radiating off of her, whose emerald eyes were sharp yet so affable; and then there was me, the brooding Slytherin with green tips in her hair, a stare so pointed people would turn away if they were walking in my direction, and a resting bitch face so effective no one, not even purebloods, wanted to talk to me.

But that was just the beginning. The number of unwanted gifts I received was horrendous – roses in black, white, red, Merlin, even green color; poetry so bad it was tragic; pickup lines so bad I swear my ears would start bleeding if I heard more of them; and extravagant confessions of love that were embarrassing beyond comparison.

But I knew it wasn’t love; love can’t be created. Yes, it was infatuation, but it was just that. The effects the messed-up memory-altering spell were quite similar to those of Amortentia, the only difference was that I didn’t intend that.

. . . . .

A month had passed already, and we were all growing nearer to graduation. The workload was crumbling; seventh-years, such as myself, spent their days and nights in the libraries, the gardens, abandoned classrooms, dormitories, anywhere they got, just studying and learning and practicing. And the three essays we were doomed to get each day didn’t help either.

So now, Jam- sorry, Potter’s unwanted public displays of affection only added to my stress. The constant nagging, shouting, pickup lines, rejections – ugh.

I put up with it only until I snapped.

It was two months later, three days until our first exam, History of Magic, when it happened. I was roaming the dungeons, muttering spells under my breath and practicing wand movements, when I heard noise. I immediately knew. And even though if I’d been saner, I’d probably just ignore it and leave those Marauders and their shenanigans alone. But at that time, I was past the point of sanity, and my fingers were itching to do some actual magic – real magic, not the amateur spells this pathetic excuse of a school was teaching me. You would think that learning advanced stuff would make the basic spells and hexes and potions easier; it was quite the opposite. Having learned what first years learn at age four or five, and reaching seventh-year level by twelve, I was so ahead that I’d forgotten the basics.

So I whipped around, wand pointed, the boys’ cloak blowing off by a nonverbal spell, as they all stared at me. Potter spoke up first.

“Hey, Dahlia, how’re you holdi-?”

“Shut up, Potter,” I snapped. Dahlia was short for black dahlia, the name he used for me in his “poetry”.

“Aw, someone’s i-“

“Shut up, Potter!”

“Love, you shouldn’t preten-“

“Shut. Up,” I sneered, taking two quick strides and jabbing my wand at his throat. “I’m not pretending. I don’t have to. I loathe you, you imbecile! Stop bothering me, because I have work to do, and chapters to study, and spells to practice, and write letters to my parents, unlike you, who would much rather just roam around bullying people, and whose mother is on her death bed and father is half-mad, and whose entire family are filthy bloodtraitors!” I was heaving for air at that point, and once oxygen reached my brain and lungs, only then did I really comprehend what I’d said.

The hazel eyes of the boy in front of me had lost their glint, and had suddenly become too dull, even for me. His friends were standing stunned behind him, eyes flitting from my – as I then realized – guilty expression, and his heartbroken one.

It took him a few seconds and shaky breaths, but the Potter boy finally spoke up. “If… i-if what I say and, uh, do, g- gives you such a headache, then I’ll just, um, stop,” he said in a voice that was uncharacteristically quiet. I gulped, uncomfortable due to the pit that seemed to be settled in the bottom of my belly, and gave a stiff, curt nod.

He nodded again, gaze constantly on the floor, and then trotted away, his friends trailing behind him, now giving me angry glares, having come out of their stunned stages.

And although I should have felt relieved, because I somehow knew that Potter wouldn’t be back to his old ways, I instead had a strange tightness blooming in my chest, slightly constricting my breathing. Shaking my head, I went back to the dormitories, because I couldn’t possibly have gone back to sleep then.

. . . . .

Two days until the day all seventh-years would graduate, say goodbye to the castle, probably forever, but instead of feeling sadness or nostalgia or sadness on leaving the castle, I just had that constricting feeling in my chest growing every day, because I didn’t have even one happy memory in the castle.

My letters to father were sent occasionally, because honestly, except recruiting the seventh-year Gryffindors, and one Hufflepuff, to the Order, Dumbledore had done honestly nothing.

Potter had once again slipped back into his old routine, but his eyes never seemed to had that sparkle anymore. He flited with Evans, she flirted back, seemingly suddenly not liking the lack of attention she got when his affections had been aimed towards me, and each time I saw them that way, I would tighten my jaw, and grip my wand, or books, or even the hem of my sweater if I didn’t have anything, a little tighter.

The feeling was so foreign, and I didn’t like it one bit. Perhaps Evans’ case was what I was suffering with; but I had never liked the attention.

So…why?

. . . . .

During autumn 1979, Lily and James Potter had decided to get married, only at the supple age of 18. And I didn’t know why it bothered me, but it did. That’s why I had been the one to plan the attack on the same day as their wedding.

At 4 pm, the Death Eaters all broke in to the Potters’ mansion; an anonymous source had informed us of the location. I was part of the crew that was attacking – so were Bellatrix, the LeStranges, Malfoy, Pucey, Nott, Rosier, Selwyn, Regulus, the Carrows, Dolohov, Greyback, and Snape – we were father’s most ruthless and dangerous pawns, in the midst of the useless ones. Except me and Bellatrix, clad in hooded robes, the rest all wore their masks.

The wards around the Potter mansion had been taken down by someone inside, and so, there were little to no obstacles in our path.

As we all apparated in, it took the guests a hot second to even realize what had happened; once they did, there was a full-on battle.

The first person to attack me was Professor McGonagall, who was, as expected, one heck of an opponent. It was fun, going back and forth with a person who was suppose to have power over me, and that too in a dangerous duel. And yes, she caught me off-guard a couple times, but that was that. Confringo’s, stupefy’s, crucio’s, expulso’s, reducto’s, spells that melted your insides, jinxes that turned your heart to metal, hexes that made your wand obey your opponent, curses that blasted you apart; there was everything included, because I had lethal intent. It was a Sectumsempra, however, that finally took down my Professor, for she was growing out of breath, and when cuts and gashes made way into her arm and shoulder, she finally dropped to her knees, wand still not forgotten.

Trusting Nagini to take care of her, I went off, assisting Snape in a duel against a certain redhead that he was going way too easy on. And it was easy to take her down, because with a carefully aimed Crucio, the bride had dropped down, screaming and writhing; my companion turned to me just as I heard a scream of “LILY!”, and I just knew he was grimacing underneath. Shrugging my shoulders, I then left Snape to engage in a duel against Dorcas Meadowes, who was fighting beside a heavily breathing redhead whose wand had been blasted off to who knows where. I needed to see the captured.

As I entered the mansion, I was impressed; I didn’t remember any attack in which we’d done this well. But then again, I’d been ready to kill whoever didn’t immerse themselves into pure torture of these people. Most guests had already escaped; only the groom, his father, his friends and colleagues, a couple Professors of whom Dumbledore wasn’t part of, and the bride who was soon brought in, we had mostly all the important ones in our grasp.

I locked eyes with Pettigrew, on his knees beside Potter, and was quivering. He seemed to know what I wanted to tell him – good job.

“Lily!”

“Dorcas, are you okay?”

“What happened?!”

“Lily, love-“

“SHUT UP!” exclaimed Bellatrix, just at the right time. She then proceeded to cackle madly, which I rolled my eyes at. Lucius hissed something about “embarrassing women”.

“Let her go, please,” uttered Potter, and only then did I turn to see Snape holding his wand at Evans’ back. Holding, not jabbing. Striding towards him, pulling her forward with her left arm, and forcefully making her sit on her knees directly in front of Potter as I held her in place with her hair, the girl couldn’t hide her quivering lip from me.    I didn’t blame her; I’d successfully destroyed her wedding, and would probably kill her. But I couldn’t help chuckling when Potter started pleading to let her go, because she was bleeding. And the twisted pleasure I derived from that sickened me, but I couldn’t stop it.

Tugging at her hair harder, I muttered a stinging spell under my breath, and the girl’s shoulder began burning more. She yelped and hissed, and I could make out the clenched fists of my fellow Death Eater from the peripherals of my vision. He had to get over her.

And that was the reason, I convinced myself, why I Crucio-ed the girl on her knees.

Her friends screamed at me to stop it, she screamed at me to stop it, Potter screamed at me to stop it, but I didn’t. Amongst the shouts, Black screamed at me to reveal my face, as his cousin already had. I didn’t. And the billow of wind that went past me, temporarily stopping me, and lowered my hood, I knew it wasn’t just nature’s wrath.

As Rabastan tortured Black for lowering my hood, McKinnon taunted, “Oh, your friend can’t defend herself, is it?”

I was flattered, honestly, with the uproar that caused among the Death Eaters. Chuckling, and then asking them to stop it, I wandered to McKinnon, and crouched to her eye level, looking head-straight into her blue eyes. I was aware of the tense gazes of the wedding guests on me, and I couldn’t help but smirk. Quickly suppressing it, I ran my hands along the girl’s face – her nose, jaw, lips, and then threaded them through her hair.

Pulling her head back with her hair, I tilted my head to the side. “You’re the half blood, hm? Gryffindor, like your mother. Your father was Ravenclaw.” She seemed creeped out a tad, at me knowing her family so well. I raised my voice, no longer muttering. “Dolohov, take this one back home. Don’t touch her, or her family. Kill them off, make it hurt. Once you’re done, come back here.”

And so the screams started again, protests and thrashing and writhing. Dolohov did as he was instructed, and everyone watched, horrified.

“Anyone else, have any problem?” I raised my brows. Silence.

I then worked efficiently. Meadowes, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin were taken to the headquarters, meant to be attended to by Father. Bellatrix was allowed to torture whoever she pleased. Once she was done, I dragged the mudblood by her lover, and both of them were tied together. The professors were sent back to Hogwarts as a message, and once those two, as well as Auror Potter were the only ones left, me and the Death Eaters trudged out. Standing at the door, I pointed my wand. “Fiendfyre.”

The doors were closed, and the screams inside would haunt the area forever. The Potters had been murdered, along with all the most valuable assets of the Order of the Phoenix, and Neville Longbottom, two years later, had been marked with a lightning scar.

No one messes with the Riddles and gets away.

No one is worthy of our jealousy.

[takerfoxx]

In response to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, my (former) idols

I really didn’t want to have to do this.

So in addition to…=gestures vaguely=…all of that, the last few months have been kind of sucky when it comes to learning some really unpleasant things about artists that I looked up to, admired, and was in fact inspired by. I’ve already spoken about the Speaking Out movement revealing a lot of ugly behavior from various wrestlers, some of which I was big fans of, and then later we got Chris Jericho being a full-on MAGA. Yeah, that all sucked. But those were just performers whose work I enjoyed watching. The one that really hurt were writers who I deeply admired, whose stories I love, and who I was heavily influenced by.

The first, of course, was finding out that JK Rowling, the author of perhaps the single biggest YA fantasy series of all time Harry Potter, is a TERF. This really sucked for a number of reasons. Firstly, I really like Harry Potter! I mean, I’m not a super fan or anything. I came into it when things were kind of dying down, like the whole book series had already been released and there were only a few movies left, but I still really enjoyed it, have all the books and movies and a fair amount of merchandise swag, including a nifty wand I got at Universal Studios. Shit, I got two replicas of the Sword of Griffyindor, thanks to them screwing up my order in my favor and sending me a duplicate! They’re on my wall right across from me as I type this!

But in addition to writing a book series I really liked, JK Rowling was supposed to be one the good guys. She’s been vocally progressive, often openly comes down on British right-wing nonsense, has supported various persecuted minorities, and is on record as being one of the few self-made billionaires to actually stop being a billionaire for a time because she donated so much money to charity. And while we mock it now, her revealing Dumbledore as gay was a huge deal at the time. Plus, she cultivated this reputation as Auntie Jo, that cool, supportive aunt we all wanted.

But for a while her stock has been dropping. Her preference for confirming “representation” via tweets instead of explicitly putting it in the text of her stories has raised the question of queer-baiting, especially with a whole-ass movie with a young Dumbledore and Grindelwald to make their relationship explicit but failing to do so. The whole Nagini thing from the latest Fantastic Beasts movie was pretty gross. And re-examination of various problematic elements from the original novels has rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Now, none of these really looked to be intentionally malicious, of course. Just about everyone’s early work will have problematic elements; that’s just how people work. And the later stuff smacked more of ignorance than anything. But after all this time, it’s like, c’mon. You should know better by now.

But the biggie came when her transphobic views finally came to light. Now, this one had been brewing for a while, due to some questionable likes and statements on her twitter. But then she decided to just go public and published what essentially amounts to a TERF manifesto, one with a very “love the sinner, hate the sin” condescending attitude and had a real persecution complex air to it.

Now, I’m not going to go into detail about what the manifesto was about, what the circumstances surrounding it were, or how wrong it was. It’s already been raked over the coals, dissected, answered, and debunked in detail by people far more qualified than me, so odds are, you’re already well aware of its contents and the subsequent rebuttals. But the gist of it comes down to her basically believing that transwomen are actually cis men claiming to be trans so as to infiltrate and invade female-only spaces.

Yeah.

Okay, that’s gross, but…why? Why is someone so noted for being progressive and wanting to foster an inclusive environment making this the hill of exclusion that she wants to die on?

Well, that’s where things get tricky. She mentions that prior to Harry Potter, her first marriage was highly physically and sexually abusive, and when she escaped from that, she had no place to go, leading her to be homeless for a time.

Oh.

Well, that makes sense. Someone goes through a highly traumatic experience with a member of the opposite sex, has no support structure when she escapes it, is left to fend for herself, only to suddenly get rocketed into fame, fortune, and influence, which in turn leads to a Never Again mentality. She was hurt, no one was there to help her, and now she’s afraid of men invading women-only spaces to victimize others like she was victimized. So…literally transphobic. Literally a Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist.

Guys, this is so fucked up. Like, how do you even approach something like this? She’s a victim in every sense of the word, so of course she’s going to have physiological damage and a warped view of things. I mean, if I found out that a close friend of mine went through the same thing and had the same prejudices, I would be nothing but sympathetic! I mean, I’d still do what I can to convince her to overcome those prejudices, but I’d still show sympathy and support for what she went through.

Abuse warps people. There’s a reason why so many abusers are abuse survivors themselves. It makes you terrified of being hurt again and often causes people to adopt toxic behaviors, beliefs, and reactions to protect themselves. I’ve already talked about it at length while discussing She-Ra and its own handling of the cycle of abuse, which included franks discussions of Catra’s horrible behavior, why she was the way she was, while never losing sympathy for her and rooting for her to overcome it. So if JK Rowling is an abuse survivor, is it really right to come down on her for having warped views because of that abuse?

But that’s the problem. See, she isn’t your troubled friend that you’re trying to help. She isn’t your cousin Leslie who’s a really sweet person but unfortunately adopted some bad ideals due to trauma suffered. She JK freakin’ ROWLING, one of the most famous, wealthy, and influential women in the world. She has a platform of millions, if not billions, which means her voice lends credibility to her bigoted beliefs. Alt-righters and other TERFs have already swooped upon this for giving validation to their awful beliefs, which puts trans people even more at risk. And as horrible as Rowling’s experiences might have been, the trans community is often the victim of far worse, and they don’t have a mountain of money and an army of defenders to protect them like she does. I’ve said it time and time again: just because you’re a victim, that doesn’t give you the right to victimize others! And bringing things back to Catra, as much as I loved her redemption in the final season, she was still a TERRIBLE PERSON for a huge chunk of the show, one that needed to be stood up to and stopped.

So yeah. That’s the messiness that is JK Rowling.

Now, let’s talk about the one that really hurts. Let’s talk about Joss Whedon.

I’ve made no secret of what a huge Whedon fan I am. Unlike Rowling, I was a HUUUUUGE superfan. Seeing Serenity for the first time in theaters was akin to a religious awakening to me as a storyteller, making it one of my top three movies of all time. Firefly is my favorite show ever. And I adored Buffy, Angel, and Dollhouse as well. I love Cabin in the Woods and The Avengers. The very first fanfic I ever wrote was a Firefly fanfic that disappeared along with my old laptop. I know his style isn’t for everyone, but I cannot understate how much of a personal inspiration he is to me as a writer.

And like Rowling, Joss was supposed to be one of the good guys! Buffy was monumental in pushing the needle when it came to female empowerment. Will and Tara were groundbreaking as a gay couple. He’s been outspoken for years about his feminist views and beliefs and was seen as one of the most prominent and influential feminist voices in Hollywood!

And then things started to go bad.

One day he was on top of the world, the mastermind behind the first two Avenger movies. And the next, it seemed like he was in freefall. It’s hard to really pinpoint exactly when the change took place. Some would say him being brought in as a last-minute substitute for Zack Snyder to take over on Justice League after Snyder had to leave due to family tragedy, and the subsequent awful critical reception to that film tarnishing his image, even if those were very unique circumstances that couldn’t really be blamed on him. Others might point to Age of Ultron’s less than stellar reception, as well as criticism of some questionable jokes and certain creative decisions regarding the character of Black Widow, which then led to a more critical examination of how Whedon continues to write female characters, as while his work might have been revolutionary in the 90’s, his failure to evolve with the times had meant that many of his portrayals are now woefully outdated and problematic, with his vision for a Batgirl movie getting hit with a lot of backlash as a result.

Again, I’m not going to go into too much detail, as this is all public knowledge and can be easily looked up, but overall it seemed that Whedon entered into a period where he was getting criticized more than he was celebrated, and his image of a guaranteed hit maker was now in doubt.

But all of this wasn’t the big problem. All creators go through rises and slumps, and everyone hits points where they get hit with a barrage of criticism; that’s just part of being a public creative figure, especially a progressive one. And had nothing happened after, it would have probably faded, got forgotten, and Whedon would have moved onto the next project with no fuss.

But as it turned out, it wasn’t just a minor slump in his career. Instead, it was the priming of the pump.

In 2016, Whedon divorced his wife of sixteen years, Kai Cole, and in an open letter, Kai Cole accused him of being a serial cheater, who would have affairs with a great many women, from co-workers, to actresses, to friends, to even his fans. And in addition to raising questions of him possibly abusing his position as showrunner to elicit sex from those working on his projects, there also is the ugly question of how could someone who speaks so highly of women then go and backstab the person who was supposed to be the most important woman in his life, as well as lying to her and denying her the autonomy of deciding whether or not she even wanted to continue to have a relationship with him?

Furthermore, Whedon himself has not explicitly denied these accusations, and comments made by him seem only to confirm them.

Now if you’ll recall, I reacted publicly to this news, and despite my admiration of Whedon’s work, I came down on Kai Cole’s side, and stated that while things like marriage issues and infidelity were no one’s business but that of the couple’s, it did raise a lot of uncomfortable questions about how Whedon treated the women in his life and he really needed to get his shit in order.

But hey, a messy private life and a guy falling into temptation isn’t that big of a deal, right? Plenty of creators also go through multiple marriages and have problems staying faithful and still continue making great art. We’re all human, it’s a stressful job, and this shit just happens, right? Sure, it’s gross and a shitty thing to do, but ain’t no business of ours, right?

In late 2020, actor Ray Fisher, who played the role of Cyborg in Justice League, openly accused Joss Whedon of fostering a hostile work environment, claiming that the director’s behavior was abusive and unprofessional, and that Whedon in turn was protected by DC executives.

DC and Warner Bros. came down against Fisher, claiming they had done an internal investigation that turned up no evidence of wrongdoing (yeah, sure they did), and soon Fisher was out as Cyborg, apparently for rocking the boat.

But then Charisma Carpenter, noted for her important role as Cordelia Chase in both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, then spoke up, claiming to be inspired by Fisher in doing so. She described Whedon did indeed foster a hostile work environment on his projects, that his often acted in a toxic manner, from asking incredibly invasive and inappropriate questions regarding her pregnancy to insulting her on set. She said that she made excuses for him for years, but after undergoing a lot of therapy and reading what Ray Fisher had to say, she felt compelled to speak out.

And this just open the floodgates. Other actors and actresses also came forward, some with stories of their own, others to offer support. Even Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar, confirmed Carpenter’s stories and said that she no longer wanted to be associated with Whedon. Michelle Trachtenberg, who played the character of Dawn, stated that she also experienced toxic treatment from Whedon despite her being a minor at the time, and says that the set had a rule that Whedon wasn’t allowed to be alone with her again, which really raises some sickening questions of what happened the first time. Even male stars have spoken out, from words of support and apologies for not speaking up earlier from Anthony Stewart Head and David Boreanaz, to an earlier interview with James Marsters, in which he described being terrified of Whedon, mainly due to an instance when Whedon was frustrated with the popularity of Marsters’s character of Spike messing with his plans and physically and verbally taking it out on the actor. There have been many corroborating stories of Whedon being casually cruel on set, on seemingly taking delight in making his fellow show writers cry, and even the man himself admitting to enjoying fostering a hostile work environment during his director commentary of the Avengers. We’ve joked about Whedon’s supposed sadism for years, but that was in regards to how he treated the characters in his stories, not the people helping him make them!

So yeah. That’s the problem with Joss Whedon.

So, do I think that Joss Whedon is somehow some kind of sociopath who lied about his feminist principles and deliberately put on a progressive façade specifically to get into a position of power so he could torment people? No, of course not. I think he was sincere about his beliefs, and I do think he didn’t realize the wrongness of his behavior. But that’s kind of the problem. See, it’s one thing to have kind of a trollishness to your nature, a sort of sadistic side. No one can help that. But when someone with that quality gets put into a position of power in which they are protected by both the higher-ups and their legions of fans, they are allowed to mistreat and continue to mistreat people. And by never suffering any consequences, that sort of toxic behavior becomes internalized, becomes a habit, becomes their moda operandi. And when you’re constantly getting praised as a creative genius and a wonderful feminist voice, any self-criticism just gets wiped away, and you think yourself above reproach, leading to what Joss Whedon became and went on being.

And you know what scares me the most about this particular issue? It’s not that I am a fan of his stories. It’s that I can so easily see myself turning out the same way.

Look, I’ll be upfront about it: I’m kind of a sadist myself. You’ve seen it in my stories, you’ve seen me gloating after a particularly dark plot twist makes my readers freak out. That sort of stuff is fun to me. There’s a reason why I have a much easier time in the dark and violent scenes, because I’m channeling something ugly within me. We all have a dark side, and this is mine.

But UNLIKE Whedon, that doesn’t carry over to how I treat people in real life (unless Monopoly or Mario Party are involved, then it’s fair game). Maybe it’s because I wasn’t given the sort of power and praise he did so early, and I was always taught to be considerate of other people’s feelings, but if I ever find out that I hurt another person or went too fair, I feel TERRIBLE, and it just throws me off all day until I apologize. Even if I don’t notice right away that what I said or did wasn’t cool (autistic, remember?), when it’s pointed out to me and I have some time to think on it, yeah, the guilt is on and I make a point to apologize to whoever I’ve hurt. I’ve even made a point to apologize to members of my family for inconsiderate stuff I said years ago as a little punk kid because it wouldn’t stop bugging me.

So maybe Whedon got too big, too fast. Maybe putting people on these sorts of pedestals, especially progressive ones, is ultimately a bad thing.

So where does this leave us? How are we to treat JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, one who developed a lot of transphobia due to abuse suffered while the other became a toxic individual due to unchecked control and a lack of consequences? Can we still enjoy their stories despite them now being colored by their creators’ falls from grace? Can we separate the art from the artist, or do we have to do a clean split?

Honestly, I feel that has to come down to the individual. I can’t remove the influence Rowling and Whedon have had on me as a storyteller, and I still highly respect both of their talents despite taking major issue with their problems as people. And I’m not going go throw away all of my Harry Potter or Firefly stuff. Because that’s my stuff. It has value to me, it doesn’t represent the issues with their creators, and a lot of it was gifts from people who are dear to me. Though I do think it’ll be a long time before I return to either of their work, as I just don’t have the stomach for it now.

But I will be avoiding any projects they have in the future. I don’t want to put money in their pockets that might go on to support their toxic beliefs or behavior. And as for royalties for their past work that would also support the cast and crew of the Harry Potter films or those who worked on Whedon’s shows who do not deserve to lose money because we don’t want any of that money going to the creators? Er, that question is a little above my paygrade. I don’t know. You’ll have to all decide for yourselves. As for me, I still have a lot of thinking to do.

Regardless though, if I or anyone else is still able to enjoy their work, then it’s important to not divorce what these people said or did from the art they created, even if it makes enjoying that art less fun. It’s important to be critical about what we enjoy, to acknowledge the bad aspects along with the good, and open up discussion of those elements, because that’s what mature adults are supposed to do. 

And as for JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, whose stories I love, whose talent I admire, and whose past good work I’ll happily acknowledge, I do hope they both experience some sort of realization and enter into a period of self-examination that leads to them getting help for their issues, for Rowling to get help in coming to terms with her trauma and realizing that she’s wrong about the trans community and a full apology, and for Whedon to also come to terms with his toxic behavior and how he treats people, for him to make no excuse for what he did and sincerely apologize to those he hurt and work on bettering himself, as well as them both examining some of the more problematic tropes still present in their works. Because despite everything, I do feel that they can still be a creative force of good, and it would be a shame if they let themselves self-destruct.

But if not, then if it comes down to choosing between Rowling and the protecting the trans community, if it comes down between choosing between letting Whedon continue to make shows and protecting actors and writers from his abusive behavior, then I know who I’m siding with, and it ain’t the two individuals this whole essay is about. No story, no matter how good, no matter how creative, is worth letting sacrificing vulnerable people in order for it to be made.

[inkdrinkershadowsinger]

Thoughts/Background Goblet of Fire

What kind of creepy graveyard is this? Skeletons crawling over one another? Snake hidey-holes? Is this Nagini speaking or can she hear Voldemort from that far away? This just shows how fast she is as she moves along the ground here. Literally, we have here the Angel of Death equipped with wings and a scythe, which normally the Grim Reaper carries.

One light on in the caretaker’s house which is right next to the family graveyard? We are assuming that this is the Riddle estate, correct? Wealthy families like that would have had a family graveyard near their home. Also, that house in the background, Riddle Manor? Is super big and though it is dark looks grandiose.

The house here, looks well lived in, but at the same time, almost like it has only recently been inhabited. This is a kitchen, but it looks like there is a shovel on the wall, and only one light?

Still, only one light on in the main Riddle house. Wormtail can’t even draw a curtain? Dang.

Those are some old fashioned keys. I understand that this is a Manor or whatever, but this takes place during the nineties? No one thought to update the locks on this place? Frank mentions, “Those kids”, like people breaking in has been a real problem. Why not update the security? Also, who has been paying for the upkeep of this place? Lucius? Some secret Dark Lord Corporation? Is that why they are old school? Because we all know that wizards like to keep everything super, super, super old school?

Seriously, who is keeping up this place? The topiary is amazing!!

He looks like he is walking up a sort of backdoor entrance or servant’s entrance.

He is the caretaker for the grounds, but can’t dust a little? That clock needs a good one.

The light wasn’t muted because no one was casting a lumos, they were simply using a lamp that had the fabric bits removed that dampen the light.

The way that Barty is smiling when Nagini perches herself on Voldemort’s chair is fucking terrifying.

Ron’s room really is all orange. Such a fanboy.

The Burrow is in such a great spot. The little pond in front, the trees, the openness. The house itself is incredible. Still, only one light on. Whose? You can see the group walking away. That has to be Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room. Or Ron forgot to turn off the light, again.

They are all having to run to keep up with Mr. Weasley because he gets his cardio, bitch.

Mr. Weasley is rocking that straw cabana hat because he knows Muggles son!

Such a beautiful shot!

Did they travel through a worm hole here? I know the director or whoever had to make a creative choice in how this was going to be portrayed, but…. Idk.

Everyone is flying around, the arena is clearly segregated into Ireland’s colors or Green, Red, and Yellow, perhaps hinting at the final score of the match? Nice job, filmmakers.

What is this guy juggling? It looks like toy merecreatures almost.

Orange is the Weasley families favorite color. They’re just owning it at this point.

The pitch looks like it is in the inside of a volcano or a mountain.

Some people have seats right on the grass of the pitch? So, if the Weasle’s have bad seats at the very top what would the very lowest seats be classified as?

Who knew that a job qualification for Professional Qudditich players is the ability to adequately throw and spark fireworks?

Krum is a showoff.

Those are omnoculars? What Ron has to his face?

The way that they were all packed in together, it’s a wonder the whole place didn’t burn down with all the incendios they were throwing around.

They are all wizards, underage or not, and this is a life threatening situation, and yet, no one is firing back at the Death Eaters?

Okay, so everything did get torched to the ground. None of these tents had some fire retardant?

That amount of spells coming at the trio.

That style of hat that Crouch is wearing has got to be some ministry trend. Wait until they all hit the trucker hats in the 2000’s.

That Dark Mark is really cool.

I love her hat though. It looks like something that would have been worn to the royal wedding.

Seeing the train is always stunning.

I love the collection of sweets here. Colorful, to attract the youngins.

This is a really colorful movie. The third one was very muted while still being stunning. This and the next one experience with splashes of color that are just beautiful.

They are passing a big lake in the background there. Out of the window just looks wild and remote.

He addresses it clearly to Sirius Black. Is that a qualification for the owls to know where they letter needs to go or do they just have to have been there before? I need to know the specifics of owl travel.

You get to see the whole scope of how large not only Hogwarts is ,but the grounds, and I love that.

You see Neville in this first sequence as they are watching the other schools arrive as well as Fred, George, Ginny, Colin, Harry, and Hermione. Angelina Johnson is in the background behind the twins.

The sails on the Durmstrang ship looks like it is decorated with a two headed dragon. Is that the symbol for Durmstrang?

So while Dumbledore is chatting, Hagrid and Flitwick are behind him chit chatting.

There are two levels to the head table in this movie. The main folk are sitting at the higher table. Snape is leaning against the wall, not directly related to them at all. I bet he hated first days at the school.

Snape is one hundred percent mimicking Dumbledore’s speech for a hysterical Flitwick in the background.

The bald guy behind Dumbledore looks asleep, straight up.

Are butterflies the symbol for Beauxbatons? That would be very interesting. A creature that transforms completely into something else.

Hermione and Ginny are the only two who know what’s up in this shot.

Dumbledore was giving Madame Maxime eyes.

Filch is just standing dead in the middle of the Durmstrang wizards.

He is still standing there when Krum and Karkaroff walk in.

The kids so promptly follow Dumbledore’s instructions even though some of them are probably embarrassed about having to sing the school song.

But not Harry James Potter. He is living for this song.

Again we get so many shots of the school in this movie.

You can see the house point containers behind Dumbledore’s head.

You can see them again after the goblet is revealed.

Is that a tower of marshmallows?

OMgosh! The sky acted up when Crouch Jr came in because Hogwarts knew that he wasn’t who he said he was!!!!

The cup is so primitive looking compared to the container that is in.

It almost looks like each layer was created by a different faction of the wizarding world as a whole. That could definitely be a fanfic.

The perspective starts on the Durmstrang ship which again features a dragon.

Cages, nets in the background of the DADA classroom.

There is also a lot of glass and mirrors in the room which almost makes me think of a fun house where you don’t look like yourself in any of the mirrors which is super fitting for Crouch Jr. at this phase.

Why does Hermione look so suspicious already?

And what is the use of all the bugs, Crouch Jr. you sick mother f-er.

Who needs fifty overflowing worms in a jar?

Dean Thomas is straight up rocking a composition notebook from Walmart on that desk. He is representing Muggle culture at its finest.

Crabbe is wearing a ring. Is that his heir ring? That would be interesting as we see the younger generation start to really get pulled into the war in this film.

The portrait on the stain glass crying. We have all seen this, and appreciate the majesty.

We love a rain soaked Robert Pattinson.

Everyone is just watching the battle between the twins and Hermione.

There is no other light in the Great hall except for the Goblet? Dumbledore does love his aesthetic.

Snape is like, get me out of here.

And that display of power is why all of them dang kids sing that dorky song.

Who is Cedric kissing here as he goes up to the head table?

The cup is like the opposite of the Goblet of Fire. It is shiny and bright and new while the goblet is ancient looking.

You can see Harry’s scar quite prevalently in this shot.

The Hogwarts trophy room. I have never connected this before. It is huge.

Karkaroff has gold fillings.

What are the spinning trophies and where can I get one?

One light on in the top part of the castle.

Pensieve memories are blue, and the Goblet’s fire is blue. Coincidence? Fic writers, you tell me.

The suns on the curtains in the boy’s dorm is a nice touch.

Ron has a homemade quilt. I bet he gets those for birthday gifts instead of the infamous Christmas sweater. Molly Weasley is a boss.

What are all of these trophies for? I bet Dumbledore keeps all the ones that the various clubs and groups have won over the years.

Magical cleaner?

The scope of Hogwarts is amazing.

The owlery is literally covered in bird shit, like every inch. Dumbledore clearly instructs Filch not to clean it to deter frisky students.

Is that a cat on the stairs there?

I can’t ever decide if the Common Room looks too big or too small, here.

Harry talks about Voldemort so casually. But I guess if someone tried to kill me year after year we would form a sort of familiarity.

Those cabinets in the back are filled with board games. Bet me. Gryffindors are notoriously bloody, and game night, gets wild.

I bet Neville spends a lot of his time in the lake just researching and studying all of the different plant life.

Neville cares not at all for the drama behind him. He’s just like, “Give me the plants”.

I love that bright orange flower. Hagrid ain’t no fool. He knows how to get the ladies.

The mist in the background could almost be taken as fog, but then you think about the dragon’s and it literally could be smoke.

Hagrid representing all of the men who are shorter than their women.

There looks to be about six dragon handlers here.

They are carrying branches or their wands lit with fire at the end. Is that to confuse the dragons? Make them think that they already covered that area in their territory and are thus safe?

The handler on top gets bucked off the cage. He is done with this job.

I’m sorry, but those badges are ingenious. Do we know in the movie that Draco is the one that made them or is that fanon?

Those Hufflepuffs are nasty.

The sculpture that is seen in that scene in the courtyard looks like the same one that is present in Half Blood Prince. Do they also move around the castle at will?

Harry pushed Draco, and that guy in the back is like, “Yes, let’s have a fight.” Then he and the other guy straight up bounce when Moody pops on the scene. But Goyle is ride or die. Or maybe they ran and got McGonagall because she came really quickly???? Hmmm??

The walls are all green and lightly moss covered. Gorgeous.

Like, is there a legit list of all the things that teachers cannot do. 1. We do not use Transfiguration as a punishment. 2. Trying to main or kill students is expressively forbidden. 3. Flashy robes are allowed and encouraged. Share in the glorious pattern of life.

Crouch Jr. should have been shitting his pants at being at the end of McGonagall’s wand.

Again with all the mirrors. So, Crouch Jr. can make sure that his transformation isn’t slipping?

What are the faces in the mirror here?  

All the clues were there, and I didn’t see a single one. This movie and book is a masterpiece of plot. Plain and simple.

McGonagall was like, “Let’s not have the arena with the dragons so close to the castle, eh, Albus?”

There is a bed for each of the champions in this tent. Could no one transfigure a couch?

They have punch and muffins in the background. “Lime punch before you fight a dragon?” “Sure.”

I never noticed that blue in Madame Mazime’s hair. I love the school spirit that she is showing here. Dumbledore seriously thought of mimicking her. He would look bomb with a tie die beard. Convince me otherwise.

Filch is featured spectacularly in this movie.

The trunk at the bottom has a red cross on it, making this very likely an emergency tent that just so happens to double as the waiting area for the champions.

Colin made that sign for Harry.

I feel like that chain, oh, I don’t know, could have been magically reinforced or something.

How does his glasses stay on? I bend over, and mine are on the floor.

Even Draco here is like, “Come on, bro.”

Snape knew he should have stayed in bed.

So, does the waterfall seen here does that fall into Hogwart’s grounds as well because that would be awesome for field trips. My love for this ancient, magical castle in the middle of nowhere is unmatched.

Where was Seamus during that challenge? I did not see him.

The picture of the woman in the far left is very striking.

The Black Lake is a huge expanse. I always think of it as kind of small, but it is massive in this movie.

The pastries in the back are floating along the table. So cool.

Mrs. Norris just chilling, waiting to see these pitiful humans embarrass themselves.

Why can’t they have healed Harry? I understand the look, but dang, people continuity.

Neville has got them shiny dancing shoes. Augusta was very pleased when Neville asked her to buy them for him.

Hermione is a queen, and she knows it.

There is that semi circle of stone again from the third film. Hmmm….

Ginny’s friends are coming in with the support. Love a squad.

There was fruit on that table. I always wondered if they got snacks and what not during the daytime, between meals.

What was the need of carriages if the ball was held at the school?

Ron waited until last minute to even try on those robes or he definitely could have worked something out.

Owl sculptures are supporting the fires here.

Krum is dumbstruck by our girl.

Somehow she loses Krum to argue with Ron.

Is that couple making out at the table?

People are dancing in the hallway?

A gaggle of girls are crying on the stairs. Every middle school dance ever.

I’m telling you, whoever designed this cemetery had a very messed up imagination.

Neville stays out all night long. It is morning coming through that window. You dog, you.

Half of the allure of going to Hogwarts is to get to become a prefect and use that bath. Let’s be honest.

Crouch Jr. hates his life right now.

All of those books are like represent my best life.

Half of those students are like, “Yeah, no, you took all my money last time.” Because let’s be real, no one bet on Harry, and Fred and George scored big time.

Those top tiered placed have got to be enlarged with wizard’s space because they are quite small, and the whole school plus the two others are expected to attend each trial? Yeah, not big enough it seems.

Harry is a show off.

Seamus is wearing Hogwarts merch. Like where did he get that? A catalog? Gift shop in Hogsmeade?

You can see the merpeople’s ancient village here, or hints of it. Archways, etc.

Fleur looks legit worried here. Like Harry was right to not trust Dumbledore to ensure their safety when he can’t even tell Fleur who is out of the competition by this point that her sister is going to be okay.

Why are Fred, George, and Ginny right next to Malfoy and Co. for this shot, shouldn’t they be at odds? Or was that the best spot and neither were giving it up?  Or plain movie making reasons?

Harry is wearing a wand holster on his leg. Fanfiction writers catch all the details.

Seamus is like, “I am Harry’s hype man. I will keep him from getting hypothermia.”

Why did Hermione turn French here for that line?

Rescue….. that’s a strong word here, Dumbles.

Crouch Sr. is such an interesting character. He knows what it is like to lose a family, and he has his guard up because of that. Their story and their family is so interesting to me for some reason.

I think that’s the closest that Crouch Jr. gets to breaking character.

If you were born in the nineties you had at least one of those jackets that Hermione is wearing here, and if you had more, you had them in several colors.

Who bewitched Mad-eye’s eye? It is a very powerful magical object in its own right, right?

Please see my post about Sirius and Azkaban.

As soon as Snape is mentioned Crouch puts his head in his hands because he knows Dumbledore is going to have to have a say.

Dumbledore is looking so closely at the details that he misses the bigger picture in Harry’s dreams and Moody’s actions.

It’s so weird that Snape has a storage area for ingredients near Dumbledore’s office. I bet that Snape has several storage areas spread throughout the castle.

Snape could have just looked inside Harry’s mind, and be done with it, but no….because plot.

Neville is carrying yet another plant behind the trio here.

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle are so carefree here that you almost forget that the happiness of youth that they have at Hogwarts is about to go extinct just like Harry and his friends. All of the kids in this story face a sharp change in perspective after this book.

I like that Harry has fake Moody, Krum has Karkaroff, Fleur has Madame Maxime, but Cedric has his dad because he gets to say goodbye to him.

The maze is just a massive headgame.

Do you think the reason that Fleur ultimately becomes close enough to Krum to ask him to her wedding is because Krum sought her out and made serious recompense for him being imperioused while in the maze?

They are just resorting to brute strength there at the end. The maze making them forget that they are capable wizards. A jelly legs jinx probably would have had much the same effect.

Angel statues I get, but this big dementor, grim looking thing holding the bones of Voldemort’s father. I just don’t get it.

Cedric gave Peter a chance to speak or stop, but Peter again took the cowards way out, and blasted Cedric before he really had a chance to fight back. What a punk bitch.

I’m glad that you are forced to choke your own self Peter because you deserve it.

Voldemort’s transformation here is both stunning and horrible.

The Death Eaters come out of the Dark Mark’s mouth.

Their masks here are different then the ones used earlier in the morning.

Voldemort is snatching their weaves here, and I love it. Stupid klan robe wearing wizard Nazis.

Voldemort puts his foot on Cedric’s face. Like, son, you need to pay for that privilege.

A lot of the Death Eaters here look like they have like staffs. I don’t understand.

A Death Eater in the background is litearlly clapping when Voldemort makes Harry bow, like get a hold of yourself, Hershel.

The statue, again, in the background presents such a striking image as the two duel.

The spell that Crouch Jr. urged Harry to learn is the one that saved Harry.

Harry just wanting to physically protect Cedric’s body with his own. Just heartbreaking.

I’ll never not sob when I hear Amos Diggory sob, “That’s my son! That’s my boy!”

Fred and George look to follow Crouch Jr. and Harry out. Do they tip off the professors?

Doesn’t Crouch know what it is like to stand in Voldemort’s presence? He was just babysitting the man, I mean, dang. Fangirling is one thing, but you have business to handle.

Don’t insult my Neville. I will throw down.

The mirrors are gone at this point. It looks like Crouch has almost packed up because he knows that he will no longer be needed.

Not his blood, ahhhhh!!!!!

Snape puts such flourish into his casting. That scene at the carriages earlier in this film. He looks like he is rearing back away from Karkaroff, but he is merely preparing to cast one fanciful, flourish of a hex on the man.

Just stick your face in the crazy Death Eater’s face, Harry. Great thinking. No wonder Snape doesn’t hold your intelligence in high regard.

We don’t get one look at Professor Sprout. This boy’s Head of House?

Look at all that magical cooperation, and yet, none of this was used in book seven, or any book after except for mentioning Fleur married Bill, and Harry learned a little tidbit about the Deathly Hallows symbol from Krum.

I love this film. It is stunning, and truly made me a diehard HP fan. I don’t think I will ever really tire of it.

[thou-crusty-batch-of-nature]

'Crawling back to you'

(Do I wanna know? Arctic Monkeys)

A/N: I'm soo sorry it took so long! Hope you'll like it! Thank you for reading (and requesting)! Feel free to send a request or message me! Lysm

Pairing: Harry x reader

Warnings: fluff, angst

Request: Could u do something Harry Potter x reader were the marauders are alive and the reader is Harry’s gf and is as good as Dumbledore in dueling. And she was staying at Harry’s house for spring break and (Harry is still the boi who lived) Voldemort attacks them and says something like “if she wins she dafe but for now I am going to take the most important thing in ur life” to Harry and he starts crying but then she out duels him and comforts Harry and Jily notices how much they love each other?

MASTERLIST

gif not mine

People have always assumed that I have a perfect life: a loving boyfriend, incredible friends, but people often speak without knowing. And I, of all people, knew that. My life has never been pink, I've never had a family, and besides my friends, no one's ever cared for me. I had lived in an orphanage until an old man wearing funny clothes showed up in my room, telling me I'm a wizard; and a very powerful one, too.

My first year at Hogwarts wasn't a piece of cake either. I was a pureblood gryffindor, but I knew nothing about magic. I didn't have any friends and spent my time either in the library or by the lake. The only person I spoke to was my roommate, a very bright witch named Hermione Granger. She'd always helped me when I was down and even introduced me to her group of friends; including Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. At first, we didn't get along well, but as time passed by we became closer than ever, becoming the family I've never had. We were soon known as the troublemakers of Hogwarts. We used to receive howlers from Lily every week, expressing her disappointment, followed by a short note from James, congratulating our brilliant ideas. In the fourth year, Harry and I went together to the Yule ball, and soon after that, we became a couple.

***

I looked again in the mirror. I was wearing a long-sleeved gown, with grey lace embroidered and a deep decolletage. My long Y/H/C hair fell in a waterfall of loose curls on my bare back.

"Oh my God! You look stunning. Harry won't be able to keep his eyes off you." Hermione said.

"Look who's talking. You're literally glowing!" And she was. Wearing a baby blue dress, she could be easily mistaken for a princess.

"Thank you! Shall we go?" Nodding, I took my best friend's hand. We went down the stairs, careful not to trip. 'These bloody shoes better not make me fall!' The common room was awfully quiet, as almost everybody was already in the great hall.

I was more than excited when Harry asked me to be his partner. I had a crush on him since the beginning of the third year. When we got downstairs he was nervously leaning back and forth, facing the dimly burning fire.

"Hello, Harry!" Hermione greeted happily. He quickly turned his head towards us, mouth falling open while his eyes wandered over my dress.

"Hi-" he said in a squeaky voice. "You-you look gorgeous."

***

Then Voldemort came back. Our life became darker and darker, and since the battle at the department of mysteries, he had been trying to recruit as many wizards as possible. Harry was in incredible danger as the chosen one, and I, because of my power, was the number one in the death eater's list.

I woke up breathing heavily, my hand around my neck. I was used to having this nightmare; I was alone in a dark room, chained, and Voldemort was torturing me in order to become one of them. I woke up seeing the blinding ray of green light, followed by his malicious laugh.

'I am safe. I am safe.' I opened my eyes only to see Harry's panicked face.

"What happened?" I usually spent my holidays at the Potters, who took me as their daughter. I owed them everything.

"You were screaming. I thought that-"

"It's ok. I had a bad dream." Harry sat next to me, hugging my warmly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, grazing your back.

I turned to see his mesmerizing eyes, losing myself in the spring grass colour. "Not really." I whispered. We kissed like we were afraid of breaking each other.

***

"I told you they love each other!" Lily said, nudging James under the invisibility cloak.

"They are just how we were! He takes after me, so hopelessly in love!"

"At least he managed to take her out! You were so nervous when you first attempted to ask me on a date that I thought you would faint!"

James pinched her nose. "Yes, but look at us now!"

***

"Good morning everybody!" I'd just got in the kitchen, where Lily and Harry were having breakfast.

"Good morning darling!" Lily greeted.

"Morning!" Harry said, kissing my cheek. I filled my plate with scrambled eggs and sat down.

"So what are you cool teens up to these wonderful days?" Lily asked, making Harry sigh.

"Mum, stop. And if you asked, I would love to go for a walk with Y/N." He turned to me. "What do you say?"

"It sounds great!"

The diffuse sunlight painted the morning sky. The shy rays were playing on the fields of flowers, slowly drawing patterns on the spring's colourful mantle. We were walking down a narrow path through the forest. The comfortable silence was suddenly interrupted. Harry fell on his knees, letting go of my hand.

"He's here! He's after us!" Harry shouted, "We have to leave now!"

We bolted without looking bavk. I knew he was here; I could feel it. One could call it instinct, I preferred the term fear. Then, the veil of darkness hit us.

***

I slowly opened my eyes. My scar hurt so much that it made me feel dizzy. We were in a spacious room, made entirely of stone.

"Y/N!" I whispered, slowly shaking her. She was lying next to me, eyes barely open."Y/N! Please!"

"Look what a prize we've got here!" a high pitch voice called. "A small bird told me you two were walking happily through the forest! What a pure coincidence that the Dark Lord had a free day!"

"Bellatrix, stop with your boring talk, bring them to me!" Voldemort was sitting on a dark wood chair, his red eyes burning holes through me. Nagini was swirling on his hand. "Harry Potter and Y/N Y/L/N! The chosen one and the girl who is told to be my only worthy opponent! Let's see who is the best after all!"

"Leave her alone!" I shouted.

"Oh how brave are you! You almost convinced me! But I really want to play," he paused to look at us, "I challenge you," he pointed at Y/N "if you win, you and your loved ones are safe, but if you don't, you'll both lose the most important persons in your life. Do you accept?"

"No!" I said.

***

"Yes, I do," I said at the same time as Harry. Voldemort's eyes were locked on me as a wild smirk grew wide on his face. Bellatrix laughed maniacally, throwing my wand.

"Then we shall start."

"One." The death eater started.

"Two." I took a careful step.

"Three." I glanced at Harry, his horrified face following my gaze.

"Four." I could hear the Dark Lord's laugh.

"Five." His voice was sending shivers down my spine.

"Six." I silently stepped forward.

"Seven." My heart was threatening to jump from my body.

"Eight." My hands were shaking violently.

"Nine." I took a deep breath.

"Ten." We turned.

The duel started.

***

The battle was one of the most impressive I've ever seen. Spell after spell, dodge after dodge, Y/N held her head high, not even budging in front of her opponent. Light against darkness, fire against water, good against bad.

And it was far from over.

***

I was barely keeping my breath steady. Exhaustion was threatening to take over me, but I couldn't stop; I needed to win. Voldemort marched closer, creating a dragon of darkness. 'Shit.' Its black wings spread, and the majestical creature flew to me. It looked like Death. I cast a enormous fire Phoenix. It's battle cry shook the entire manor. The creatures collided, exploding.

"Expeliarmus!" I yelled.

"Abracadabra!" I managed to cast a shield over me in time. However, my spell hit the Dark Lord, the impact throwing him on his back. I caught his wand and disarmed the other death eaters, too. Just then, the order of Phoenix apparated in the room. I fell to my knees. Harry ran to me, pulling me in a bone crushing hug. I don't know when I've started crying, nor when he did. It didn't matter. It was over.

All was going to be well.

Taglist: @futurewriter2000 @puppycat714 @booksbeforebois

[thesydneyfeminists]

The Crimes of JK Rowling

CW: racism, homophobia, mentions of abuse and drugs.

The cool thing about growing up and expanding your world view is that you eventually see your childhood heroes for what they are. Flawed humans (and maybe, just plain assholes). First Joss Whedon and now JK Rowling. Nothing is sacred and no one is safe.

I loved the Harry Potter series (the original seven books, I refuse to accept any of the latest garbage she’s put out/had her name attached to – within the HP universe) and I still count Prisoner of Azkaban as one of my favourite books, but even fondness and nostalgia can’t shield JK Rowling from some of the problems with the world she has created, the way she explains/defends it, and her quarter assed (not even half) and damaging attempts to rectify that now in 2018.

Note: Simply for length reasons, these are all related to the Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts franchises.

Crime One: Racism

It’s no great secret that there are very few characters of colour in the Harry Potter universe. Apparently, while it’s plausible that there’s a whole (not so) secret world of magic, it’s just too unbelievable for there to be many witches or wizards of colour. Before you come at me with “but Vee, mudbloods and Voldemort only wanting pureblood wizards is a metaphor for racism!” you can stop that right now. Because you know what’s also a great metaphor for racism? Actual racism. How about how people of colour are literally discriminated against every single day. They get passed over for jobs, they’re spat at in the streets, they’re being killed by police. Metaphors for racism? Not good enough.

I’m in the camp that think white writers shouldn’t write their main character as anything other than white, for a whole host of reasons, but if I had to summarize it, I think stories of colour should be told by authors of colour, we should be opening the doors for more authors of colour, we should listen to their voices, their stories, their experiences. I think white authors can’t know the exact nuances of what it’s like to be a person of colour, how the world treats us, the experience of living in diaspora, the disconnect between first gen, second gen and third gen family members, and so much more. It’s something that sure, you can read about it, you can do your research, but you’ll never quite understand it unless you’ve lived it. All of that being said, I do believe that white authors can include characters of colour in a meaningful way, that is, not for decoration, not as a handy plot device to move your story along, and not as a harmful, disgusting stereotype. But let’s stop for a second and count the number of background characters of colour that have been more or less confirmed (note that Hermione could easily be coded black, the only hint we get is in PoA, she’s described as “very brown”, but it’s not until the older Hermione was cast with a black actress in The Cursed Child did JK pop up and say “of course she could be black!”). So, we have Lee Jordan (maybe unfairly assumed, as he’s only described as having dreadlocks but he was cast with a POC), Dean Thomas (who was very good at drawing – also maybe unfairly listed, was cast with a POC), Parvati and Padma Patil (possibly unfairly listed, described as having long black hair, and cast with POC), Cho Chang (quickly, can I point out that a character of Asian descent being sorted into Ravenclaw the “smart house” plays into so many racist stereotypes that I can barely breathe), Kingsley Shacklebolt, Blaise Zambini. And then, well, there’s Nagini.

Tweet reads: “The Naga are snake-like mythical creatures of Indonesian mythology, hence the name ‘Nagini.’ They are sometimes depicted as winged, sometimes as half-human, half-snake. Indonesia comprises a few hundred ethnic groups, including Javanese, Chinese and Betawi. Have a lovely day.”

 About a week ago, the trailer for Fantastic Beasts 2: The Crimes of Grindelwald was dropped to mixed reactions. The trailer revealed a snippet that reveals that Voldemort’s pet snake was once a shapeshifting woman, cursed to become trapped in a snake’s body. An Asian shapeshifting woman. Reduced to becoming (a white supremacist but metaphorically) a white man’s pet. Cool. Naturally, there was some backlash about this turn of events, and so JK tried to tweet out the reasoning and explanation (while also saying she’d been keeping this racist secret for 20 years) that obviously Nagini had to be an Asian woman because it was based on a creature from Indonesian mythology, and that Indonesia comprised a “few hundred ethnic groups, including Javanese, Chinese and Betawi”. Cool, JK, but the actress cast is Korean, and you saying all of this kind of reinforces the idea that all Asian ethnicities are interchangeable. Let’s not even get into a white woman explaining Indonesian mythology or ethnicity, or the fact that it’s also an Indian mythology, the Naga. I don’t want to split hairs here, there are other examples of mythology that are similar but have key differences across other cultures (the kitsune/kumiho/huli jing fox spirit, for one). So it’s possible she only read up on the Indonesian myth and took her inspiration from there. But the way she “explained” the debacle sits uneasily with me. She brushes over any concerns that come from people of colour – valid concerns and questions, and instead chooses to ignore the real issue, which is that by playing into the harmful stereotype that Asian women are subservient, and that all of the different Asian ethnicities are interchangeable, she does more harm than good for inclusivity and that she is doing it for show. She doesn’t give a shit if her work includes characters of colour, and if it does, she doesn’t give a shit that they’re shitty stereotypes, 2D characters that are nothing more than the colour of their skin, just there to boost the POC count in her works.

Thinly veiled racism? Guilty.

Crime Two: Poor Handling of LGBT+ Issues/People

Back in 2007, speaking to a crowd of fans at an event at Carnegie Hall, JK Rowling revealed that she “always thought of Dumbledore as gay” to wild applause. Finally, a canon character was more or less confirmed as LGBT+ (sorry to the Dracarry shippers, that still just lives in our hearts). Great, right? Except, why did she wait until the book series was completed to come out with this revelation? Why didn’t she include it in the books? Sure, you might say “well, Vee, it’s a kids book, you’re expecting far too much” except it’s not a “kids book”, it’s always very clearly been in the young adult category (certainly after the third book, at least) and readership has always been split between adults and younger people. The series came out when I was a teenager, finishing when I was 21, and I definitely would have appreciated some LGBT+ representation in a book that meant so much to so many people. I’m not saying she needed to include a sex scene in there (she could’ve faded to black, like Stephenie Meyer did in Breaking Dawn) but to go back and retcon that Dumbledore was gay and that she’d always thought that, for it to ring true, she needed to leave us hints in the original series. She “always thought of Dumbledore as gay” but “didn’t feel the need to spell it out”. Maybe she didn’t see the point of it, maybe she didn’t want to spoil her “big reveal” (note that some fans had always suspected that Dumbledore had been in love with Grindelwald), but by not mentioning it until after the fact? It comes off as lazy, or as wanting to appeal to the LGBT+ community, by trying to earn an ally card by doing very little at all.

Tweet reads: “I was asked whether Lupin’s treatment by others could be seen as a metaphor for (then) stigmatised conditions. I agreed that it could. 2/4”  J.K. Rowling (@jk_rowling)

Then there’s the Lupin issue. Supposedly, at some point in 1999, JK was asked whether or not Lupin’s “condition could be seen as a metaphor for (then) stigmatised conditions” and she said it could. Basically, lycanthropy is meant to be a metaphor for HIV/AIDS in the HP universe. In Short Stories From Hogwarts of Heroism, Hardship, and Dangerous Hobbies (released 2016, mind you), JK writes “Lupin’s condition of lycanthropy was a metaphor for those illnesses that carry a stigma, like HIV and AIDS. All kinds of superstitions seem to surround blood-borne conditions, probably due to taboos surrounding blood itself. The wizarding community is as prone to hysteria and prejudice as the Muggle one, and the character of Lupin gave me a chance to examine those attitudes”. Maybe she had the best intentions in mind when she came up with that idea, and true enough, blood and blood purity does matter to an extent in the wizarding world, but something about it feels hollow and gross. I’d like to note here that we only meet three werewolves in the series (Lupin, Greyback and an unnamed man who was bitten) and none of them were female. Take that how you will, but a few fans came to the conclusion that her “metaphor for HIV/AIDS” also includes the harmful stereotype that gay men were going out and maliciously infecting over men with HIV.

Retconning the source material to make herself seem LGBT+ inclusive but handling it terribly? Guilty.

Crime Three: White Feminism

Maybe this crime really explains the others. It explains her support of the decision to cast Johnny Depp in the Fantastic Beasts film series. Yep, Johnny Depp, you know, the guy who physically abused (then-wife) Amber Heard. Sure, he’d been cast before we knew about that. He’d appeared, for five whole minutes in the end of the first Fantastic Beasts film, so he’d already signed on. Surely, he couldn’t be fired when his contract was signed. Except, we’ve seen examples of men accused of abuse being let go from their jobs (not often, but it happens sometimes). Kevin Spacey, for one. So, why couldn’t Grindelwald be recast? Especially after a five minute cameo at the end of a movie? JK Rowling released a statement where she acknowledges that around the time of filming the first movie in the new franchise, stories involving Depp’s abuse of Heard started to appear in the press, and “based on our understanding of the circumstances, the filmmakers and I are not only comfortable sticking with our original casting, but genuinely happy to have Johnny playing a major character in the movies.” Comfortable and genuinely happy to have a known abuser affiliated with your work, based on our understanding of the circumstances, the circumstances being that Depp physically abused Amber Heard, who provided photo and video evidence. Even Daniel Radcliffe has spoken out about the decision to let Depp remain on cast, given the decision to fire a lesser known actor (Jamie Waylett) from HP: Deathly Hallows pt 2 after his arrest for growing 10 marijuana plants (he was later arrested for a more serious crime, but that was well after his firing from Harry Potter). DanRad mentioned how he was, of course, thankful for the opportunities provided to him from being cast as Harry Potter, but that “I suppose the thing I was struck by was, we did have a guy who was reprimanded for weed on the (original Potter) film, essentially, so obviously what Johnny has been accused of is much greater than that.”

Tweet reads: “Just unfollowed a man whom I thought was smart and funny, because he called Theresa May a whore. 1/14” J.K. Rowling (@jk_rowling)

Of course, supporting the casting of an abusive man doesn’t make her a white feminist, nor does tweeting about unfollowing a man for calling Theresa May a whore. What does, in my honest opinion, is her handling of any criticism she receives, and the bullshit way in which she tries to earn her ally card, but only when it suits her. If all of this mattered so much, she would’ve included it the first time around. Retconning her source material in an effort to appear more diverse isn’t true diversity. It’s literally a made up world, she could’ve made it more diverse from the start. She needed to explicitly state things, because marginalised groups need to see representation. Good, strong, representation. Not weak and harmful versions. By being properly inclusive in her material, as a middle class white woman, she could’ve set an example of how things should be. If she’d spoken to any marginalised group, heard their stories, about their lives, gained an insight in how to write about them, her POC, LGBTQIA+, lower class, etc audiences would’ve come away with the message that she cared and wanted them included in her stories. In her world.

The bottom line is, JK Rowling does not care enough to follow through, and well, when you’ve made as much money as she has, why should she? She bangs on about how truly diverse the wizarding world was and gives examples to back it up, but she does so way too late, and without any real proof, just her word. Sure, she created this universe, maybe she did believe Dumbledore was gay, or Hermione could be black, but she needed to say it back then, not ten years later when people are critical of the cis-het white world she’d created. She rants about men immediately calling women names when they disagree with them, prides herself on blocking and unfollowing these men, but when called out about supporting the casting of a known abuser? She suddenly no longer cares about supporting another woman. One who was arguably, treated a little worse than just name calling. Her idea of feminism is clouded by her life experience, which would be fine if she took the time to listen to the people around her, from different backgrounds, and try to understand why they feel what she says and does is offensive, clumsy, and lazy. But when her opinion and her views challenged, she comes out swinging, blocking people, throwing around statements like “Dumbledore is gay!” or “Hermione is black!” as a clumsy attempt to appease the very people she does not give a shit about. The solution is laughably simple, all she would have to do is just listen to marginalised voices. Hear their stories and educate herself. And if she truly wanted to be a true intersectional feminist, she would do it. Understanding her privilege would cost her nothing. In fact, it would garner her more respect, something she’s lost a lot of in the last few years.

Just say you don’t care, JK, it’s more honest. Guilty, guilty, guilty.

By: Vee H 

 Sources:

Twitter

https://www.pinknews.co.uk/2016/09/08/jk-rowling-reveals-remus-lupins-werewolf-condition-metaphor-for-hiv/

https://www.jkrowling.com/opinions/grindelwald-casting/

https://ew.com/movies/2018/01/12/daniel-radcliffe-johnny-depp-fantastic-beasts/

[dragon-discourse]

The Naga

Name: Naga, Nagi, Nagini

Type: Myth

Region: India

Description: Nagas are divine serpents, able to shift into human form. In their Naga forms they most often resemble cobras, and can often have multiple heads.

Myth: There are many myths associated with the Naga. Here is one:

Shortly after the Buddha reached enlightenment, he sat meditating under a tree. A storm came, and stayed for three days. The Nagaraja (Naga King) Mucalinda was passing through, and seeing the Buddha, coiled around him and raised up his hoods to shield him from the elements.

Facts:

Despite how modern media portrays them, Naga were not simply human-snake hybrids. While myths do say they can shift from human to serpent form, the depictions of them as hybrids comes largely from art, while being absent in the stories. It is my personal beliefs that much of this art was not to be taken literally, but rather was more akin to depicting saints with wings. An artistic shortcut.

The Naga also seem to be connected with mundane snakes, with some stories, such as the one telling the origin of the Garuda’s hatred for them, doing little to nothing to differentiate Naga from snakes.

The Garuda is the enemy of the Naga. Their mothers were sisters and both wives to the same man. The mother of the serpents enslaved the Garuda’s mother after a bet.

The Garuda was able to free his mother from slavery by bringing the Naga the elixir of immortality. However, he threw it on the ground so that they could not drink it. Instead the lapped at it, cutting their tongues on the grass, and slithered through it. While snakes are not immortal, they can now shed their skin to renew themselves.

The Naga started in Hinduism and were later incorporated into Buddhism as well. As Buddhism moved to China and Japan, the Naga merged with the native Long and Ryu.

Terminology

Naga means Cobra, which indeed the Naga seem to be.

Nagi and Nagini are the terms for a female Naga.

Nagaraja is the king of the Naga. Some Nagaraja include:

Mucalinda, the protector of the Buddha

Shesha, the Naga upon which Vishnu often rests, who holds up the heavens.

Vasuki, the Naga Shiva used to churn the ocean of milk.

The Phaya Naga is a sea serpent said to exist in the Mekong River. It spits fireballs known as Naga Fireballs or ‘bung fai paya nak’ (Mekong lights).

[eveneechan]

Thank you so much and i really appreciate it ^^ and hi again! I love when finally i can discuss about this after long time. I kinda came to fandom late and just know there's 'discourse' around Nagini too late. And I, as Indonesian, just same like you, kinda sad when see JKR didn't open much information about Nagini. Why came from Indonesia? And why give a role to Claudia Kim who have oriental feature? Etc, etc. And then i need to find it alone.

Honestly, without Acha Septriasa, i will never know what Naga/Nagini that JKR try to refer on Indonesia because Indonesia have so much ethnic groups with different cultures and myths. But after Acha's information, that Nagini came from Kalimantan (Borneo) island, i get a clicked what she try to refer.

Firstly, i will explain about Naga and Ular. It's same but also not same so i will try to explain a bit on this term. On literal english translation, Naga means "Dragon" and Ular means "Snake". On Indonesian or mostly Far East Asian myth, our "Dragon" have feature more like Giant Snake and have element water (Meanwhile on western myths, dragon have feature like winged salamander and have fire element). This Giant Snake feature that our Dragon have sometimes that's reason why we can called them not just as Naga (Dragon) but also as Ular (Snake). But term of Ular is more refer to common snake, but term Naga used more into that mythological underworld Giant Snake. That's why I think JKR didn't use Ular term but Naga instead (but sadly just like you said, Naga is also used on others like Hindu and it have a very different meaning. But JKR didn't try to explain it more). For Nagini itself, it's feminime term of Naga on sanskrit. Like the usage of He and She on English.

(I kinda have headcanon maybe Claudia Kim's character real name is not a Nagini. Maybe she have real name, but because she became a circus performance, she gave circus alias: "Nagini"; that refer to original mythtical clan inspiration).

About Siluman Ular, it's different concept or legend, yes. Just like you said, this siluman concept really similar with Japanese shapeshifting demon. But I think it kinda have connection to Indonesian Naga myth. Some people believe this underworld dragon is a "demon", because they cause earthquakes, tsunamis, and deaths. The concept of siluman is a human that can change into animal form, like Snake (Ular), Boar (Babi Ngepet), crocodile etc, by contract with demon. Human need to "pay" with big consequences to became siluman and usually various. One of consequences that i've ever heard is descendants of the user need to have this contract curse for at least 7 generations (similar with what happen to Nagini, or maybe this is the actual inspiration. My headcanon: maybe Nagini's family have contract with demon Ular that's why they shapeshifting form is Snake).

(Honestly i wish i can give you reliable source information about this siluman concept that can be access through internet, but sadly i still can't found it. A realiable source about this concept i found it so far only from actual "ancient book" on national library. Yeah, it kinda sad my people not really care about our own culture to rewrote it propely :"D)

About why on WW the curse only on female....maybe if we look back again to Naga myth, Naga is also a symbol of female. When Sky is symbolized by Bird and Male, Earth is symbolized by Naga/Ular and Female.

And oh yeah, you are right! This concept really similar with mesoamerican concept :D not only concept, when i do study, i found out our feature and culture props concept kinda same:

I have read a book that kinda have analysis about that. On same book, i also learn deep about Indonesian Naga. It's wrote by British writer when he do research on our cultures, so there's an english version. You can read it if you are interested ^^:

Thanks again for the discussion ^^ i really love we can have this kind of discussion and learn more together

Blood Malediction

Carried through the blood due to a curse once placed, Blood Malediction refers to both the curse placed and the disease that may then afflict generations thereafter. Most Blood Maledictions last either three or seven generations, depending on the strength with which the curse was cast and the intent of the caster, though some few have been known to last longer. More usually, a three-generation curse will cease to affect future generations fully but may recur each third generation thereafter in one or more children.

Most precisely speaking, Blood Malediction is a class of curses, as very few can be made to last beyond the death of the caster - very few spells indeed can last beyond that, and it takes power and intent, usually. In the case of Blood Malediction the Malediction curses are designed to make the spell last far beyond the caster’s lifespan, and are thus considered Dark Arts in much of the world, and banned. This has hardly prevented their use, however, and the various known types have before been used to undermine and even destroy families.

Known forms of Blood Malediction include:

Therianthropis - Possibly the most well-known and simultaneously most misunderstood variety of the curse, those under a Therianthropis Blood Malediction are cursed to periodically turn into an animal, and to, one day, forever turn into an animal, losing human mind and form altogether. While it is commonly said that this curse only afflicts women of a line it is simply easier to trace down the female line, and it is possible to cast a variant of the curse that is more likely to crop up in men, as well as a variant that at first seems to be Metamorphmagery. 

Sang de Mal - A kind of Wasting Curse, Sang de Mal causes the loss of strength, anaemia, a weakening of magic as well as muscle- and weight-loss. This curse is relatively well-known in Pureblood circles in Western Europe as it cropped up unexpectedly in the Greengrass family line after seven generations without. A slow death but an inescapable one, Sang de Mal is generally considered to be one of the easier Blood Maledictions to live with, though few would wish to pass it on to offspring.

Deofol’s Draining - Originally developed alongside Sang de Mal, Deofol’s Draining is named for the Deofol family, which was eradicated by judicious use of this Malediction upon every known family member. Deofol’s Draining seems to drain away magic, at first making it far harder to cast spells, and then making any magical, be it intentional or accidental, far more erratic, and finally seeming to remove - or perhaps inhibit, there have been no recent cases to allow it’s functionality to be properly studied - even the latent magic all magicals have that allow them to live long lives and be immune to so many more diseases than muggles. Those afflicted by Deofol’s Draining will die Squibs, unless they elect to take their own life before that point.

Sol-Sange - Considered one of the cruelest varieties of Blood Malediction, Sol-Sange, sometimes called Sun-Blood or Burning Blood, is rather easy to explain and to imagine. Those afflicted with Sol-Sange will find their blood vessels damaged by their own blood, a situation only worsened by sunlight. It is generally believed that this curse was developed to suggest that a family might be afflicted with vampirism and generally doesn’t become apparent until those afflicted are in their mid to late twenties - and often married or soon to be married. In this way, it was used to undermine many a marriage and to cast doubts as to the blood-status of rivals.

Algea’s Affliction - Causing a compromised immune system, those under this Malediction will find that they can be affected by even mundane diseases that would usually cause no trouble. It can take twice the usual dosage of Pepperup Potion to fend off the common cold, and magical diseases become vastly more dangerous. However, Algea’s Affliction tends to be erratic, with good periods or bad periods, allowing those affected by it some time to recuperate. In some few, however, it causes a consistent and increasing weakness as their body must fend off far more diseases all having far greater effect than they would otherwise.

Mal de Mentis - Like Sang de Mal, one of the easier Blood Maledictions to live with, Mal de Mentis rarely strikes until the fiftieth year, and more commonly strikes after eighty. Mal de Mentis causes aural and visual hallucinations, paranoia and memory loss, and is often misdiagnosed as Akhos-Lethe Syndrome. Due to it taking so long to take noticeable effect it has long been one of the more popular forms of Blood Malediction to inflict upon rival families: it is often very hard to identify who may have cast it and it can often seem that an individual is unaffected until much later in life, by which point they will have offspring often also afflicted. Due to the long time it takes before taking effect, however, those who cast it upon enemies must be phenomenally patient - far more even than is usually required of those who would use Blood Malediction on an enemy.

Stock - Vial III by rockgem

(Read about Blood Malediction in canon over Here, though the various types of blood curse are all my invention - JKR gave no name for what Nagini’s kind is called so I have named it and I have redefined it from JKR’s sexist original. I hate that I have to include this but PLEASE DO NOT DELETE THE IMAGE SOURCE OR MY CAPTION.)