#why are there no muggleborns…

[octoir]

I’ve read several very strong arguments for lily/tom riddle too! namely—

-Tom riddle most likely experienced discrimination at Hogwarts due to his last name

-Lily also most likely experienced severe discrimination at Hogwarts due to her last name

-We never see muggleborns in any influential positions of power (none in MoM, none as Unspeakables, none in masteries, none at Hogwarts teaching positions…) at best, we usually get halfbloods, which is very telling of the systemic discrimination that exists against MB.

And obviously, both are brilliant. (blood wards, horcruxes, etc)

So, we have two brilliant, discriminated against , assumed muggleborns, who are (or at least pretend to be) genial and polite to the public, even when there is every reason for them to not be.

Given, I think Lily is a hell of a lot more moral than Tom, and I actually think they would end up resenting the hell out of each other, but hey! they have something to talk about!

ship question because I think you’re doing that, thoughts on Lily/Voldemort 🤔

thank you so much for the ask, pal!

i'm currently trying to make a lilymort fic happen simply because i delight in chuckling malevolently while writing, and it's tremendous fun.

not - obviously! - because i think it's particularly canonically plausible as a pairing, but because it allows me to indulge in two things i love about lily and voldemort's respective canon characterisation: that she's outrageously bolshy and that he's got an oedipus complex.

i think it's very, very striking that - while he does do this in the films - in the books voldemort never uses lily's name. when speaking about her to harry he only ever refers to her as "his/your mother", but - even more interestingly - in his internal monologue during the scene in deathly hallows in which we see him replay his trip to the potters' house the night he murders them, he also only refers to lily as "the mother" or "the woman", whereas he refers to james as... james.

his fury at lily's refusal to stand aside - her refusal to do [as he sees it] what his own mother did and abandon her child - is just pure projection of his eye-waveringly deep-seated mammy issues, and i really like the idea of that being taken to a slightly less murderous [but no less unsettling] conclusion.

especially because lily "i'd rather date the squid" potter would be having none of it. a woman who's got the gumption to tell voldemort to get fucked when he's seconds away from murdering her and her child isn't going to hesitate to tell him to get a grip when he's trying to persuade her into "i've come to collect you from the orphanage" role-play.

and, since we know canonically that voldemort does have a weakness for bossy [and/or deranged] women with great hair, i think it's going the distance...

[limonnitsa]

MUDBLOOD

[shootingthe-stars]

with every god awful take about james potter on the internet an angel loses its wings.

what do you mean he didn’t care about the dark arts and death eaters until it affected him personally. what. you mean the famously blood traitor potter family? you mean one of the only actual canon things we have about james being that he hated the dark arts? you mean the james that yelled at snape for calling lily a mudblood?? you mean the james that went on the front lines of a war he had the privilege to not fight in????

please anti blood supremacy is literally ingrained in his core beliefs can we just keep this ONE THING about him 😭

[shrimpalbuspotter]

Delphi "Everyone's a little queer!" Diggory

Albus "I'm dumb she's a lesbian" Potter

Scorpius "we were good as married in my mind" Malfoy

[arcasisautistic]

Currently cackling with laughter over those poor muggleborn kids that had to work out what the fuck all these weirdos were talking about when they discussed 'He who shall not be named' and like

One goes up to another student asking who they're talking about, just cause, ya know, they're new here n all that

Pureblood student: *quiet staring*

Muggleborn: yeah, so who is it?

PB: you know who??

M: umm... no? I dont? That's why I'm asking? Who is it?

PB: no, its... hes... you know who

M: what do you mean? I don't know who, I'm not from round here, how am I supposed to know?

And it just keeps going in this 'Who's on first' -esque style until they're both screaming

[the-phoenix-heart]

Every day I think about how Lily Evans should have been a slytherin

[bi-snape]

Lily or Laura?

Who will Sev pick :) I gotta write a fanfic about my au involving my oc laura at one point.

(I made a post talking about an au where sev ends up in a muggle mental hospital which is where he meets laura. I've made a bit of fanart of him and her because I'm slightly obsessed with them.)

[ziaverse]

imagine muggleborns playing senior assassin at hogwarts. The purebloods/halfbloods would be so confused 😭😭

[moonymode]

slytherin aus are a non-sequitur to me because the truth is that if that character was put in slytherin they wouldn't be "the same but more cunning" they would be a child immediately inundated by supremacist propaganda deliberately designed to groom the next generation of "eligible" wizarding youth into upholding a violently racist and classist system. this isn't something slytherin evolved into; it's literally the reason slytherin was founded as a house. "slytherins are ambitious" "slytherins are high-achievers" please think about why exactly the children of the blood supremacist house are more likely to achieve higher positions in society. slytherins don't bend rules in a charmingly roguish anti-establishment fashion, they're the ones writing them, they're the ones stacking the deck.

it's possible to write "good" slytherin characters, but first you have to recognize why the characters who lived in slytherin are almost always some flavor of racist villain. it's not "unrealistic" or unfair; that's a deliberate result, that's the whole point. there have been compelling narratives written around deprogramming and redeeming radicalized characters, especially children. that would be vastly more honest and interesting than pretending slytherin is actually just the tragically misunderstood edgy gifted kid house.

[yumeurl]

i think its kinda funny that jkr is miffed that many ppl love draco and just chalk it up as tom felton being handsome, which is a weird statement in of itself already, but moreso that its the original books that shows more of dracos cute side than the movies

the film does include dracos aversion to violence, as well as film exclusive scenes like drawing harry and making a paper crane just to deliver it to him, and book scenes does show more of him being a lil shit and going too far at times, like when he got frustrated and started shitting over harrys mom, or cedrics death. but the books show much more moments of dracos bullying tactic, that when left to his own devices and not just mimicking his father hell do shit like: making dementor clothes just to scare harry and even planning it w three other ppl(ALLEGEDLY BC NO ONE WOULD EVEN DO THIS BUT HIM), charming buttons for potter stinks, having dramatic retellings of whatever embarassing thing harry did on the slytherin table. like bro YOU wrote that, ycouldve just made him a pure asshole, ycouldve just continued making him say that he wants hermione dead. instead u wrote him like a kid who has the most shallowest definition of bullying. instead you wrote him warning them about the death eaters in gof, like for what??? is it to show hes dumb and wanted to brag?? bc that doesnt even make any sense, hes been shown hes able to keep his mouth shut when its related to his father, we atleast only hear it when he shares it to crabbe and goyle, not to golden trio

like did u even read the books u wrote?? not my fault u wrote him so baby. u wrote james w worse bullying tactics than him bro

[elysianymph]

just saw someone rate regulily 1/10 cause regulus was a death eater and lily would never date him bc of it

AND YOU THINK JAMES WOULD??? SINCE WHEN DO WE CARE ABOUT THESE THINGS!?!!??

[mirrorofliterature]

the only UK general election lily evans could have participated in is the 1979 one where margaret thatcher got elected

damn that's depressing

[timeisacephalopod]

Y'all are aware of that 10 hour Harry Potter retrospective but the thing that gets me the most out of that whole thing that I never considered when reading the series is that wizards can obviously chose to adhere to the Statute of Secrecy but like... Magical creatures can't make that choice and Fantastic Beasts literally starts with Newt chasing down a rogue niffler, meaning that muggles probably frequently encounter magical creatures. There's no way that muggles and magical creatures could reasonably be segregated- Hermione's cat is half magical creature so how many muggle cats are also half neasel?

Like why on earth would you invent a world in which you have scores of animals, and also plants, that cannot reasonably consent to secrecy from muggles and the excuse of witch trials falls flat when actual magic exists that should factor into how those witch trials play out but never seems to come up. Anyway, the most unrealistic thing about a universe with magic and dragons and shit is that muggles would somehow never run into and remember a magical creature, there's zero way the wizards could catch every muggle who has seen something and obliviate them that's a herculean task designed to fail I refuse to believe no nifflers have ever stolen some muggles shit enough that they'd know what them little bastards were.

[alice3876]

Guess I'm a half-blood then

Also read the tags they're kind of part of the whole point of this reblog lmao

A question for all the Harry Potter fans. Do you think our blood status ( Like Pureblood, Half-blood, Muggle born) Depends on whether our parents are also Harry Potter fans.

Like for example, both my parents aren’t Harry Potter fans. So hypothetically would that make me a muggle born?

Basically if you’re parents aren’t Harry Potter fans then your a muggle born.

But if only one of you parents are a Harry Potter fan and the other isn’t then that makes you a Half-blood.

And lastly if both of your parents are Harry Potter fans then you’re a Pureblood.

(I’ll just leave this here for now. Do what you wish with this information. Also feel free to repost with your thoughts ig. Idk I’m bored)

[nezuscribe]

slytherin!gojo, and his pureblood mania. something imposed on by his parents ever since he could walk, and it was only more than obvious coming from such an old house like theirs.

so imagine him and muggleborn you, the first muggleborn to be sorted into slytherin for over three centuries. you don't know why, and you questioned it just as much as everybody else, but there was no use.

of course you became a pariah, and of course most of the teasing and comments came from gojo and his friends. they made it their mission throughout the years to remind you of just how different you were compared to them.

and sure, maybe it helped ease the thoughts that gojo tried to hide deep in the back of his mind that you were maybe a little cute, pretty even. and that whenever he heard you laugh, especially at a joke from someone else, his chest tightened. but he pushed those down, far far away.

over the years you grew thick enough skin, but even you couldn't help the way some of their comments stabbed themselves into your heart, made your face crumble momentarily. and gojo saw, and even though he acted like this is what he wanted, it was far from it.

so when he say you on the common rooms couch one night, your potions homework laid out in front your you as you slept soundly, curled up into a little ball, his initial reaction wasn't to spill ink all over the parchment (which he guessed one of the other boys might have done, and he hated that he could see them doing it), but to pull a blanket over your frame, watch as you cuddled into it. your face was lit up by the fireplace near you, your features just as beautiful as always.

his expression softened, and before he could stop himself his hand had gone up to your face, his thumb atoms away from your cheek, your skin soft beneath him. and before he could do anything else, he snatched it away, the ring of his noble house burning into his flesh.

but it was no use, he knew what was happening, and despite years of trying to lie to himself, the great gojo satoru, the prince of slytherin, was hopelessly in love with you.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Just Kiss Her

James Potter x BSF!Reader

Summary: You find a few unsent letters with your name on them- literally.

WC: 2.1k

CW: use of {Y/N} - typo and nonsense it's 4am and I can't sleep.

The Gryffindor boys' dormitory was unusually lively for a day when James was absent. You sat cross-legged on James’s bed, surrounded by the mess that only four teenage boys could call normal. The faint scent of James’s shampoo lingered on his pillow behind you, a small comfort as the chatter of the room swirled around you.

Sirius groaned dramatically from his own bed, his leg propped up on a stack of pillows. He had injured it during their last Quidditch practice and was now milking the situation for all it was worth.

“Darling,” Sirius called, drawing out the word as he tilted his head toward you. “I demand attention. Do you know how utterly dull it is, lying here with nothing but Moony’s dull bookishness and Wormtail’s horrible color sense for company?”

“I’m literally right here, Pads,” Remus replied flatly, not looking up from his book.

“And you love me,” Sirius shot back without skipping a beat, grinning lazily.

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Peter, who stood in front of the mirror with a tie hanging awkwardly around his neck. “I think the green one is better,” you offered. “It brings out your eyes.”

Peter frowned, his hands fumbling with the knot. “But is green too Slytheriny?”

“Not unless you start hissing and cursing muggleborns,” you replied with a teasing smile. “Just pair it with a gray jumper. Neutralize it.”

Peter nodded, muttering something about giving it a try before swapping it for a blue tie. Meanwhile, Sirius groaned again, this time louder.

“I’m dying, and none of you care,” he complained, flopping back against his pillows like a tragic figure in a poorly acted play.

“You’re not dying,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “You’ve got a bruised leg.”

“Bruised? Bruised?” Sirius gasped as if you’d mortally wounded him. “That’s how they minimize war injuries, you know. Next you’ll say I’m malingering.”

“Which you are," Remus said, still not looking up from his book.

Sirius turned to you, ignoring Remus entirely. “Come on, love. Entertain me. Read me a story or sing me a song or- oh! Recite poetry! You’re good at that.”

“I’m not reciting poetry for you, Sirius.”

“Why not?” Sirius pouted. “You do it for James.”

“That’s because James actually asks nicely,” you quipped, smirking.

At that, Sirius clutched his chest as if you’d stabbed him, his grin betraying his dramatics. “Et tu, Brute? I thought you loved me.”

“Loved, past tense,” you teased. “You’re officially too high maintenance.”

“You wound me,” Sirius said, throwing an arm over his face. “Moony, tell her she’s being cruel.”

“Not getting involved,” Remus said quickly, still reading but now smiling faintly.

Sirius turned his face toward you again, his pout morphing into a cheeky grin. “Fine, if you won’t entertain me, at least come sit over here so I can lean on you while you’re ignoring me.”

You rolled your eyes but stood anyway, walking over to Sirius’s bed. “You’re unbearable.”

“I prefer entertaining,” he replied smugly as you perched beside him, letting him lean his head on your shoulder.

The room was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Remus flipping another page in his book and Peter muttering to himself as he fiddled with another tie. Sirius, still leaning on your shoulder, let out a long, exaggerated sigh, clearly waiting for you to indulge him.

“Alright,” you finally relented. “I’ll read something to you. Happy now?”

Sirius grinned triumphantly. “Ecstatic. Now, find something good. None of that boring rubbish you usually bring in here.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood and glanced around the room. “Fine, but I’m not wasting my time reading some textbook or Quidditch manual. Let’s see if James has something decent for once.”

Sirius perked up, watching you make your way over to James’s trunk. “Careful, darling, you’re stepping into dangerous territory. Prongs’s secrets and all that.”

“Oh, he won’t mind,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, if he didn’t want me snooping, he’d have locked it.”

Remus glanced up from his book. “I’m not sure that logic holds up, actually.”

You knelt beside the trunk, lifting the lid to find the usual James Potter mess: a tangled heap of robes, a few textbooks with worn edges, and a Gryffindor scarf stuffed haphazardly into the corner. But what caught your eye was a small, battered box tucked near the bottom, half-hidden beneath a crumpled cloak.

“What’s this?” you murmured, pulling it out and turning it over in your hands.

Sirius’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Oh, now that looks promising. Open it.”

Remus let out a quiet sigh. “I wouldn’t- ”

“Of course you would,” Sirius interrupted. “It’s Prongs. What’s his is practically hers anyway.”

Ignoring their back-and-forth, you pried open the lid. Inside was a disorganized stack of parchment, some neatly folded, others crumpled and torn. Some were even singed at the edges, as if they'd narrowly escaped being thrown into the fire. Every single one had your name scrawled across the top in James’s messy handwriting.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“What is it?” Peter asked, peeking over your shoulder.

“Letters,” you said softly. “They’re… they’re addressed to me.”

Sirius’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Oh, now this is good."

Remus closed his book, his brow furrowed. “Are you really going to read those? They’re personal.”

“They’re addressed to me," you replied, a mixture of curiosity and nerves stirring in your chest.

“You’re doing him a favor,” Sirius said breezily. “If he didn’t want you to read them, he’d have gotten rid of them properly.”

You hesitated for a moment before unfolding the first letter. The parchment was slightly wrinkled, and the ink looked rushed, as though James had written it in a moment of unfiltered emotion.

Dear {Y/N},

You probably think I’m an idiot. Honestly, you wouldn’t be wrong. I’ve tried to write this letter five times already, and I keep throwing them in the fire. But this one… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep it. Maybe one day I’ll find the courage to actually give it to you.

You laughed today. I can’t even remember what I said to make you laugh, but Merlin, it was the best sound I’ve ever heard. I keep playing it over in my head like an idiot, and it’s driving me mad.

I think I love you. No- scratch that. I *know* I love you. But I can’t tell you. What if you don’t feel the same? What if it ruins everything? Maybe it’s better this way. At least I can still be near you, even if it kills me to pretend.

Your voice caught, and you lowered the letter, your hands trembling slightly.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, looking genuinely impressed. “Prongs has it bad.”

Peter nodded mutely, wide-eyed.

“You really shouldn’t be reading those,” Remus muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

But you couldn’t stop. You reached for another letter, this one more crumpled, as though James had balled it up in frustration before deciding to keep it.

I tried to burn this one too, but I couldn’t. I can’t seem to get rid of the things I write to you, even if they’re pointless. You’ll never read them anyway. But writing them feels like the only way to stop my chest from caving in whenever I see you with someone else. Merlin, I’m pathetic.

I wish I could just tell you. But then what? You’d laugh, or worse, pity me. I couldn’t stand that. So, I’ll keep pretending. Keep being your best friend. Keep loving you quietly.

“Wow,” Peter said softly.

You sat back on your heels, clutching the letters tightly. All this time, James had been carrying these feelings- for you- and he’d never said a word.

“See?” Sirius said, looking smug. “Told you this was worth it.”

Remus shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”

You looked up, your heart pounding. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

Sirius leaned back against his pillows, crossing his arms behind his head. “Because he’s James bloody Potter. He’d face down a hundred Death Eaters without flinching, but one look at you and he’s a goner.”

The door to the dormitory burst open, and James Potter strolled in, looking thoroughly windswept from Quidditch practice. His broom was slung over his shoulder, and his Gryffindor scarf dangled loosely around his neck.

“Alright, lads, miss me?” he asked cheerfully, dropping his broom beside his bed. He glanced at Peter, who was still fiddling with his tie. “Wormy, mate, what’s that? A tie? You look like you’re about to slither off into the dungeons.”

Peter huffed, pulling at the tie. “It’s green with gray accents. She said it works.”

James’s laugh was loud and carefree, but then his gaze landed on you, sitting on the floor with a stack of letters clutched tightly in your hands. The open box on the floor beside you caught his eye, and his face immediately fell.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

You froze for a moment but quickly regained your composure, hugging the letters closer to your chest.

“Reading,” Sirius said from his bed, his tone positively delighted. “Turns out, Prongs, you’re a regular Shakespeare. Real heartfelt stuff.”

James paled as he took a step toward you, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and embarrassment. “Put those down. Now. They’re mine.”

You stood quickly, holding the letters tight to your chest as if they were a treasure. “No, they’re mine. They’ve got my name on them.”

“{Y/N},” James groaned, his face turning a deep shade of red. He lunged for the letters, but you stepped back just in time.

“I don’t think so,” you said, grinning as you unfolded another letter. You held it up dramatically, clearing your throat. “Let’s see what this one says- ”

“Don’t you dare!” James exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly.

“Dear {Y/N},” you read aloud, dodging James as he tried to grab the letters again. “You’re going to kill me one day, and I’ll probably thank you for it. Today, you- ”

James groaned loudly, lunging for you again. “I mean it! Give them back!”

But you were faster, darting around Sirius’s bed and laughing as James scrambled to catch you. “Today, you laughed at my joke in Transfiguration, and I swear I forgot how to breathe- oh, that’s good, James! Real poetic!”

Sirius howled with laughter from his bed, clapping his hands. “Oh, this is gold. Absolute gold.”

Peter, wide-eyed, muttered, “Should we stop them?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, waving a hand. “This is the most fun I’ve had all day.”

James was completely flustered now, his hair even messier than usual as he chased you around the room. “You’re impossible!” he said, his voice breathless.

“And you’re in love with me,” you teased, waving the letters in the air. Suddenly you paused, as if reality hit you. Your smile grew tenfold as you looked at the letters then to him with wide eyes. “Merlin, you're in love with me!”

That made him freeze for half a second, giving you just enough time to read aloud again. “You’ll never read this, but Merlin, I can’t stop thinking about you- ”

Before you could finish, James lunged and finally managed to catch you, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You squealed in surprise and delight as the two of you toppled backward into the open closet, the letters scattering around you.

James pinned you gently, his face mere inches from yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re an absolute menace,” he said, though his tone was more fond than frustrated.

“And you’re a hopeless romantic,” you shot back, grinning up at him.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his hazel eyes filled with something intense and unspoken. Then, before you could say another word, he kissed you- soft and sweet at first, but quickly turning urgent and consuming.

You forgot about the letters entirely as his hands framed your face, his lips moving against yours like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. Your laughter melted into the kiss, your hands clutching the front of his Quidditch jumper as if to anchor yourself.

From outside the closet, Sirius’s voice rang out. “Bloody hell, Prongs, save some for later!”

James pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his face flushed and his smile wide. “Remind me to hex Sirius later,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

“Deal,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Sirius groaned loudly. “Merlin, they’re hopeless. Wormtail, fetch me a bucket; I’m going to be sick.”

Remus sighed, his tone amused. “I think we’ve just lost James for the rest of the day.”