Tag: hp

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid’s pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds.

J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (via larmoyante)

johncabret:

 7/8 – Favourite scene. / A scene you really wanted to be in the movies, but wasn’t.

And he spat in her face.

Harry pulled the Cloak off himself, raised his wand, and said, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!”

The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

“Potter!” whispered Professor McGonagall, clutching her heart. “Potter— you’re here! What—? How—?” She struggled to pull herself together. “Potter, that was foolish!”

“He spat at you,” said Harry.

pansyprkinson:

top 15 fanfictions:  The Shoebox Project   by dorkorific and ladyjaida

Remus sets his teacup down on the table and chances a quick glance at the sprawled tea-leaves. Better safe than sorry, he always says. “Hm,” he murmurs. “That’s funny.”

“What is?” Sirius blinks. “The butter? Butter is never funny, Moony. Butter is extremely serious. The absence thereof in particular.”

“The tea leaves, actually,” Remus explains.

“What?” inquires Sirius, who, in the absence of the butter knife, has just started smearing his crumpet across the dish like a washcloth. “Is it a Grim? Maybe it’s me. I am in your future, Moony. Whenever you pick up a crumpet or try to have a quiet Halloween tea, there I will be lurking.”

"No,” Remus says carefully. “It’s not a Grim. Have a look?” He passes it over. Sirius peers in, cheerfully stuffing his mouth with half a crumpet.

You’re going to DIE, say the tea leaves.
“Huh,” says Sirius, intrigued, and takes another contemplative bite. “That’s new and horrible.” He shakes the cup. The leaves skitter and fall again: Blood. Blood and doom.

“It seems very clear on the doom thing,” Sirius says solemnly, passing the teacup back to Remus, who examines it worriedly. “I can see why. It knows we’re both crap at Divination. You’ve got to be very definite if you want to get your message through to us.”

“Oh yes,” Remus murmurs, tapping the cup inquiringly with his wand. “That’s probably it.”

“I wouldn’t drink it if I were you,” Sirius adds. “With the, you know, blood and all.”

Three more tries and all the tea leaves have to offer is a LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU, a The end is NIGH and a very cheerful Say your goodbyes NOW. “It tells me I ought to say my goodbyes now,” Remus says. “Goodbye, Sirius. It was lovely knowing you. I’m even fond of the times you put chocolate in my hair while I was sleeping. And when you made my nose sprout whiskers. And when you stole all my underwear and hid it in the lake."