Everyone Is Gay - Tumblr Posts

So tired of straight people, gonna go rewatch Hannibal

They're all gay

The flags (the numbers are probably wrong I got confused, I'm sorry)

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1 Hispanic lesbian flag (I found it on Pinterest, it may be the wrong one I'm sorry if it is)

2,3 Bisexual flag

5,13,7 pansexual flag

4,11 lesbian flag

4,10,14 asexual flag

10 aroace flag

9,7 transgender flag

16,14,15,12,6,8 Omnisexual flag

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Everyone is gay

Sangcheng AU where they are all a weird FBI/police thing that i havent named yet but imma call it “the bureau” anyway and you cant stop me.

My own headcannon as to Bullet Train characters' sexuality and gender, because I read the book and am going to see the movie again and I have a lot of thoughts (also looooots of projecting on my part):

Nanao/Ladybird: ace and transmasc. Confused in general. Goes by he/they but fine with any pronouns.

The Prince: probably aroace and non binary or genderfluid

Kimura/The Father: the bi icon we need but don't deserve 😔

Lemon: demiboy, goes by he/they, also demiromantic

Tangerine: aro. Fight me on that one (actually please don't). Can't decide for his gender though.

The Hornet: lesbian and ready to kick ass, she/her

Maria: omni and transfem *-*

The Wolf: the token straight of the group

𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙖 |𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧|

𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

This is the story of Y/n Sirius Potter, the twin brother of Harry James Potter, and his journey of finding himself and discovering his purpose in life and becoming part of something bigger than he'd ever imagined, oh and he also might find love with a blond boy called Draco Malfoy.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐨 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐊𝐞𝐲𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱:𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝟗¾

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐭

Moodboards

Inspo

Song Recs/Playlist

𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙖 |𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧|𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬

Y/n pushed open the glass door and took a deep breath as a bell chimed, letting the owner know that she/he/they had a customer. Harry turned his head to look at Y/n - who was not looking at his brother, but in fact staring at all the clothes, dress robes, cloaks, and people in the quaint little shop.

Y/n’s eyes travelled up the small flight of stairs in the back, leading to a loft area where teens were shifting through the racks of clothes. The young eleven-year-old boy smiled at the sight. His aunt never let him or Harry browse through high-end cloth shops, only taking them to discount and thrift stores. Apparently, she didn’t want to run into anyone she personally knew and tarnish her (already low) reputation. A smile played at Y/n’s lips as he looked around.

A large group of elderly women were crowded around a rack of amethyst and emerald cloaks with a sign above it saying: “DISCOUNT CLOAKS―LINE WITH CHIMAERA SKIN/FUR”. A few of the old crones were speaking in hushed whispers while others were taking out each cloak and holding it up.

“Hogwarts, dears??” Y/n tore his eyes away from the group of old women and saw a squat woman with greying black hair in a tight bun on her head, with round spectacles that sat on the bridge of her nose. She had a kind smile on her face with crow's feet in the corner of her eyes, as if she lived a happy life and found something daily to smile about. She wore a floor-length mauve a-line skirt that flared out at her hips, with a white long sleeve with puffed sleeves that were cinched at the wrists, and a black apron tied around her full waist.

“Um yes―” started Harry before being interrupted by the lady.

“Got the lot here—another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.” She sighed before continuing. “Well, come on, let’s get you two fitted, shall we?”

Y/n turned his head to Harry―who shrugged his shoulders―before both of the boys were ushered over to the back of the shop, where a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes.

“Excuse me, but are you Madam Malkin?” asked Y/n as the witch stood Harry on a stool next to the boy. “Well, yes dear!” she smiled at him before pointing to the other witch next to her. “And that right there is my apprentice, Vanessa Snape,” Y/n turned his head towards the other witch.

Vanessa had long black hair with a sharp pointed nose with thin lips and pale skin. Like Madam Malkin, she wore a floor length a-line skirt that too flared out at her hips, but emerald green with the same white long puffed sleeves and a black apron tied around her waist.

Miss. Snape was pinning a few pins in a long black robe in the other boy’s robe when Y/n finally registered that there was another person there.

“Hello,” said the boy, “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” said Harry (rather rudely).

“My father’s next door buying my books and Mother’s up the street looking at wands,” said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice that would make anyone around him hang onto his every word. Y/n’s brows furrowed at his statement, but continued to watch and listen to him.

“Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one, and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.” Harry rolled his eyes as the boy turned his attention to Y/n, his cold grey eyes meeting his warm e/c. “You’re going to bully him? Forgive me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t it be more effective to just ask him politely instead of forcing him?” asked Y/n, a confused expression on his face.

For eleven years, he’d watch Dudley bully his parents into getting him what he wanted, and it always worked, but look how that got Dudley. He’s a spoiled little pig, bullying and picking on the weak. (But to be frank, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Dursely were nitwits anyway, so it was no surprise that they were dimwitted enough to even listen to Dudley, let alone his whining.) But in Y/n’s mind, parents were supposed to be caring and nice, and when their children asked them for something politely, they most likely said yes.

The boy just stared at Y/n, a curious look on his face, before turning his head back to Harry.

“Have you got your own broom?” the boy went on.

“No,” said Harry.

“Play Quidditch at all?”

“No,” Harry said again, sharing a look with Y/n. Both were wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

“I do—Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?”

“Um . . . No,” said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute, while Y/n shook his head.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin. All our family have been—imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmm,” said Harry (wishing he could say something a bit more interesting). Y/n noticed that Miss. Snape rolled her eyes at the boy’s remark before making a few notes on her loose bit of parchment.

“I say, look at that man!” said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and Y/n, pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn’t come in. Y/n smiled at Hagrid, who smiled back at him. A flush appeared on his cheeks as passing witches and wizards were staring at him.

“That’s Hagrid,” said Harry, who sounded pleased to know something the boy didn’t.

“He works at Hogwarts.” piped in Y/n as Madam Malkin urshed Harry off the podium and nodded to Y/n to step up. She smiled at Y/n as he lifted his arms and she placed some black robes over him and started pinning at the right measurements.

“Oh,” said the boy, “I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?”

“He’s the gamekeeper,” scowled Harry. He liked the boy less and less every second.

“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of savage—lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed.”

“We think he’s brilliant,” said Harry coldly, as he glared at the boy, ignoring the glare his twin sent him.

“Do you?” said the boy with a slight sneer. “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”

“They’re dead,” said Harry and Y/n, shortly. Harry didn’t feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

“They died when we were very young,” explained Y/n as the boy shot him a confused look. A flicker of emotion passed through his grey eyes before reverting back to the empty and cold look he kept up through their conversation.

“Oh, sorry,” said the boy, not sounding sorry at all. “But they were our kind, weren’t they?”

“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean,” said Harry, a scowl permanently on his face, his scrawny arms crossed over his chest.

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways.” the blond turned his head to stare at Y/n. “You know, some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine.” Y/n’s brows furrowed together as he thought about what the boy said.

There are others who didn’t know they were magical? We weren’t the only ones?

“I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”

“Pott―”

“That’s you done, my dear,” interrupted Madam Malkin, and Y/n hopped down from the footstool. As he did this, Y/n noticed how both the boy and Miss. Snape was watching him, Miss. Snape held a curious gaze as she ranked him down with her eyes. He gave her a bashful smile and her eyes widened, almost in . . . recognition?

“Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” said the blond boy.

“See you at Hogwarts,” said Y/n and gave him a smile. After he turned around, the blond boy had a ghost of a smile on his face.

(Notes: Hi!! So I've literally packed this story full of OC's and Vanessa Snape is one of them! She's our lovely grumpy asshole's little sister—aka the light and the insanity of his life. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter and I am still working on the tag list for this story, so if you wish to be part of the tag list let me know and I'll add you to my list once I find the time to make it lol.)

𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙖 |𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧|𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐟-𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭

Hagrid immediately noticed that something was wrong with the twins. For one, they were rather quiet. Nothing like their usual selves this morning, asking question after question about the Wizarding World. Secondly, Y/n was staring off into the distance with a faraway look in his eyes with a flush creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears, while Harry was eating his ice cream solemnly when he should’ve been more enthusiastic about the ice cream since he never had any at his Aunt and Uncle’s, due to Dudley eating the pint in a day. 

“Alright, ‘tat’s enough,” muttered Hagrid before clearing his throat and looking at the twins with a cornered gaze. “What’s up?” Y/n snapped out of his trance and noticed his cone of ice cream was melting, getting chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts all over the ice cream parlor’s tables. 

“Nothing,” Harry lied. “Yeah, it’s nothing Hagrid.” piped in Y/n, as he wiped up the ice-cream mess. “We’re just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.” Harry nodded his head in agreement, thankful that his twin piped in because the look in Hagrid’s eye told him that he didn’t believe Harry when he said nothing was wrong. “Alright, but if somethin’s the ‘atter, you can tell me.” 

“We well Hagrid, thank you,” Y/n gave the giant and smile before licking a stripe of his ice cream, moaning in delight at the flavor. “Oh, this is excellent. Thank you, Hagrid. Tis delicious,” Hagrid smiled before sniffling and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. 

Once they finished their ice cream, they stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote, while Y/n almost bought out the entire shop―color changing ink, rainbow ink, pastel ink, feather quills, peacock quills, raven quills, thick parchment, a pack of different color parchment, thin parchment, stationary cups and holders, and a quill/ink cleaning kit―and Harry had to drag him out of there before he could spend more. 

When they had left the shop, Harry asked, “Hagrid, what’s Quidditch?”. Y/n looked up from his purchases and looked at Hagrid, his eyes lighting up in curiosity. Hagrid looked at Harry with an aghast face before shaking his head and mumbling: “Blimey, Harry, Y/n, I keep forgettin’ how little yeh know — not knowin’ about Quidditch!” He shook his head once more that reminded Y/n of a wet dog.  

“Don’t make me feel worse,” mumbled Harry before He and Y/n told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin’s. 

“— and he said people from Muggle families shouldn’t even be allowed in —” exclaimed Y/n, with a slight shake of his head. “Yer not from a Muggle family. If he’d known who yeh both were,” Hagrid made a gesture with his hands before continuing. “— he’s grown up knowin’ both of yer names, if his parents are wizardin’ folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh.” The memory alone made Y/n blush in embarrassment. 

“Anyway, what does he know about it, some o’ the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in ’em in a long line o’ Muggles — look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!” At the mention of their Mother, Y/n and Harry exchanged a look of sadness. A flash of green eyes and red-hair flashed before Y/n’s eyes, making his heart clench. 

“So what is Quidditch?” asked Harry, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. 

“It’s our sport. Wizard sport. It’s like — like soccer in the Muggle world — everyone follows Quidditch — played up in the air on broomsticks and there’s four balls — sorta hard ter explain the rules.” Harry nodded his head, the wheels in his head turning. 

“And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?” asked Y/n, his eyebrows were drawn together on his forehead as his (e/c) watched the giant. 

“School Houses.” Hagrid and the twins walked around a large company of witches sporting matching jumpers with a crest on their left breast. The crest, Y/n noted, had a wand raised up with a vial, with the words: “Sanitatem, Cinium, Herbis.”. Below the crest was: St. Mungo Witch's Institution, written in a fancy script. 

“There’s four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o’ duffers, but —”

“I bet I’m in Hufflepuff,” said Harry gloomily, making Y/n glare at his brother. 

“Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin,” said Hagrid darkly. “There’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin. You-Know- Who was one.” Y/n narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Harry spoke. 

“Vol-, sorry — You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?”

“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid with a shake of his head. 

“So anyone could potentially be a bad witch or wizard? Regardless of their house?” asked Y/n as they walked down the cobblestone street. “Well, er, I suppose so. But ‘tat would be ‘ery unlikely,” 

“Why would that be unlikely, Hagrid? I believe everyone has the potential to be “evil”, even the best of us can be turned to the dark side. To be tempted by it.” Hagrid blinked at the eleven-year-old boy, shocked by his words. Harry gave his twin a glare before returning his gaze back to Hagrid. 

“Where to next Hagrid?” he asked. 

Together, all three went to buy Harry’s and Y/n’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. 

Y/n was in heaven at the magical creature section of the bookstore. He bought several books about dragons and other magical creatures. Poor Harry had to drag his twin away from the aisle before the (h/c) boy had a heart attack. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these, though Harry as he dragged his twin away from the fully stacked shelves. Later, Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian, while Y/n looked on in awe. 

“I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.” Harry tried to explain as Hagrid sent him a disapproving glare. “I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances.” Harry looked away, his bottom lip slightly out in a pout. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’ work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” 

Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (“It says pewter on yer list”), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope (Y/n was extremely excited about the telescope and shouted “I’m a pirate of the seven seas!!” in the store, which caused them to get many funny looks in the store.).  

Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. Harry wasn’t fond of this store at all, while his twin was giddy; rocking back and forth with a smile on his face as his eyes were lit up with so many questions and awe. 

While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for the twins, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

All while Y/n was right by Hagrid, asking the wizard behind the counter question after question about the different herbs and items they sold. 

Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry’s and Y/n’s list again.

“Just both of yer wands left — oh yeah, an’ I still haven’t got yeh a birthday present.” 

Y/n and Harry felt themselves go red.

“You don’t have to —” started Harry but was interrupted by Hagrid. 

“I know I don’t have to. Tell yeh what, I’ll get yer both an animal. Not a toad,

toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh’d be laughed at — an’ I don’ like cats, they make me sneeze. I’ll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they’re dead useful, carry yer mail an’ everythin’.” 

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been

dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn’t stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell. Although Y/n was a bit bummed that cats made Hagrid sneeze, he was extremely happy with his choice of owl. Y/n carried a cage that housed a sleeping barn owl, its face was white with deep brown eyes that carried wisdom and curiosity. It’s feathers on its body were brown with little spots of grey and other shades of brown. His name was Patroclus. 

“T-t-thank you s-s-so much H-h-hagrid!” stuttered Harry as he looked at the giant with gratitude in his eyes. “Don’ mention it,” said Hagrid gruffly. “Don’ expect you’ve had a lotta presents from them Dursleys.” Hagrid gave the twins a smile of his own, and in his eyes, you could see the joy brimming in them. He was happy. Happy to give them their owls. 

The giant cleared his throat before speaking again. 

“Just Ollivanders left now — only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand.”

A magic wand . . . this was what the twins had been really looking forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. 

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Y/n felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice. Both Harry and Y/n jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

“Er -- hi,” greeted Y/n, he lifted his hand and gave a little awkward wave, as he sat Patroclus in his cage down. 

“Hello,” said Harry. He too was extremely awkward. His eyes drifted to his brother for a second, before following suit and placing his own owl down as well. 

“Ah yes,” said the man. “Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you two very soon. Harry and Y/n Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes, Harry. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.”

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Y/n watched as the old man looked at his brother, and he wished the old man would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

Finally Mr. Ollivander tore his silvery eyes away and placed them upon Y/n, chilling him to the very bone with his blank stare. 

“You, on the other hand, have your father’s statue . . . and his eyes . . . but you have your mother’s curiosity . . .” Mr. Ollivander trailed off, as he stared into Y/n’s e/c eyes. Y/n did not know what to think about the man in front of him. He had his father’s eyes?? No one -- not even his aunt and uncle had told him that. Although, they never spoke about their parents. Not until yesterday. 

“Your father, on the other hand,” said Mr. Ollivander, who finally snapped out of his stupor and turned to look at Harry; his eyes never leaving Y/n’s twin. “--favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it — it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.” As he spoke, Mr. Ollivander had started leaning his face close to Harry once more, and he had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. 

This man . . . (or was he really a man at all?) scared Y/n. 

“And that’s where . . .” Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry’s forehead with a long, white finger. Before turning to Y/n and doing the same to his forehead, making him flinch. 

“I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that did it . . . to both of you,” he said softly. “Thirteen-and- a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands . . . well, if I’d known what that wand was going out into the world to do. . . .”

He shook his head and then, to both Harry’s and Y/n’s relief, spotted Hagrid.

“Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again. . . . Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn’t it?”

“It was, sir, yes,” said Hagrid.

“Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?” said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

“Er — yes, they did, yes,” said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. “I’ve still got the pieces, though,” he added brightly.

“But you don’t use them?” said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

“Oh, no, sir,” said Hagrid quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

“Hmmm,” said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. “Well, now — Mr. Potter. Let me see.” He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. “Which is your wand arm?” He said looking directly at Harry. 

“Er — well, I’m right-handed,” said Harry.

“Hold out your arm. That’s it.” He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.”

As he said this, Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own, all while Y/n watched in awe at the sight of more magic being done. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes. “That will do,” he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. 

“Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.” Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

“Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try —” Harry tried — but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

“No, no — here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out.” Harry tried. And tried. Y/n had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. 

The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

“Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.” 

Harry took the wand. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped, as Y/n cheered and hugged his brother. Harry made a oof sound before smiling and wrapping his arms around his brother. 

Mr. Ollivander cried, “Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well . . . how curious . . . how very curious . . .” He put Harry’s wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, “Curious . . . curious . . .” Y/n’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion at the mutterings of the old wizard.

 “Sorry,” said Harry, “but what’s curious?” 

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare. “I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather — just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother — why, its brother gave you and your very own brother that scar.” Harry and Y/n swallowed. Y/n’s stomach curdled at that relation. 

“Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember. . . . I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. . . . After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great.” Y/n shivered. He wasn’t sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. Harry paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, before Mr. Ollivander turned his sights onto Y/n. 

“Hold out your wand arm,” said Mr. Ollivander. Y/n held out his arm as the tape in the old wizard’s hand began to measure him like it did with Harry. Once Mr. Ollivander received his measurements, he started digging around in the many boxes for a wand. 

Mr. Ollivander turned on his heel and placed a couple of boxes down on the counter. A spark was lit in his eyes. “If you’re anything like your brother, Mr. Potter, you too will probably be a tricky customer.” He opened one of the lids and pulled out a wand. 

“Here’s a nine-and-a-half inches, maple wood, and a dragon heartstring core. Slightly springy.” He handed the wand to Y/n and he gripped it firmly in his hands. Y/n tried to give it a wave but the magic that burst out of it was not pretty indeed. A gust of wind blew out from it, making a stack of papers sitting on the far corner of the counter spill onto the floor. Mr. Ollivander hummed, snatched the wand out of Y/n’s hands and used his own to place the papers back on the counter. 

“No . . . that’s not it. How about . . .” he grabbed another wand from the stack. “Here, ten inches, Yew wood, and a unicorn hair core.” Y/n barely had a grip on the wand when Mr. Ollivander snatched it away . . . again. Muttering under his breath, Mr. Ollivander finally pulled another wand out. 

“Here, Mr. Potter, try this one. Fourteen-and-a-half-inches, hawthorn wood, with a phoenix feather core -- like your brother -- and it’s slightly springy and flexible.” Y/n turned to look back at Harry, his eyes wide with nervousness. Harry gave him a small nod of encouragement and Y/n took a deep breath before wrapping his hand around the wand’s handle, gripping it tightly. 

He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. And a bright, glowing light spewed out from the tip of the wand. Y/n gasped in amazement as the light lit up the dusty and dark shop. Y/n could feel a connection, a spark, between him and the wand. As if the wand laid a claim on him. As if it chose him. 

Once the light dimmed down, Harry and Hagrid clapped joyously. “Bravo Y/n!!” said Hagrid, as Harry smiled brightly at his twin. Y/n’s cheeks redden in embarrassment. 

“Yes, excellent Mr. Potter.” Mr. Ollivander plucked the wand from Y/n’s hand and examined it. “It appears you and your brother have a close connection with the phoenix.” His grey eyes twinkled before he placed his wand back in its box and handed it to Y/n. 

Y/n paid Mr. Ollivander eight gold Galleons, all while smiling and thanking him for his help. “Oh . . . you’re welcome . . .” he looked startled, as if no one had ever thanked him before. But Y/n continued smiling at him, even as they all walked towards the door (of course not before picking up Patroclus’s cage and reminding Harry to take his owl as well) and Mr. Ollivander bowed as they left his shop, with a smile on his old ancient face.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Y/n,Harry and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Y/n was happy as ever, a smile was still glued on his face as he talked and babbled to Hagrid, speaking of all the things he couldn’t wait to see. Patroclus even looked as if he too was listening and understanding what his new owner was saying. 

While Y/n was excitedly talking, Harry didn’t speak at all as they walked down the road; he didn’t even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the snowy owl asleep in its cage on Harry’s lap, and Patroclus asleep in his own cage on Y/n’s lap. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves,” he said. 

He bought Y/n and Harry a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Harry kept looking around, while Y/n ate his burger in content. To Harry, everything looked so strange, somehow. 

“You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet,” asked Hagrid, concern dripping his gruff tone. Y/n even turned to look at his twin, worry in his e/c eyes. Harry wasn’t sure he could explain. He’d just had the best birthday of his life — and yet — he chewed his hamburger, trying to find the words.

“Everyone thinks I’m -- we’re --- special,” he said at last. “All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander . . . but Y/n and I  don’t know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? We’re famous and we can’t even remember what we’re famous for. We don’t know what happened when Vol --, sorry — I mean, the night our parents died.” 

Y/n’s mood immediately changed and his shoulders slumped. He didn’t realize that his brother had all this on his mind. He didn’t realize that Harry was right. They weren’t special. All they had was cool scars on their foreheads and they somehow killed a dark wizard (okay that is pretty cool, but that’s not the point). So why was everyone thinking that they were indeed special. They acted like he and Harry were King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. But they weren't. They were just two orphan boys whose parents had died and by some magical reason they survived a dark wizard attacking them. 

Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile. “Don’ you worry, Harry. You and Y/n will learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll both have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, ’smatter of fact.” Y/n gave Hagrid a weak smile, but his mind was still raging with thoughts. How could they be special?? 

Hagrid helped Harry and Y/n on to the train that would take them back to the Dursleys, then handed him and Harry an envelope.

“Yer tickets fer Hogwarts,” he said. “First o’ September — King’s Cross — it’s all on yer tickets. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with one of yer owls, they’ll know where to find me. . . . See yeh soon, Harry, Y/n.”

The train pulled out of the station. Y/n and Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; they rose in their seat and each pressed their face against the glass of the window, their hot breath making it fogging and their noses were against the window -- which wasn’t the best feeling in the world --, but Y/n blinked and Hagrid had gone.

Well, hello there! It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry I haven't updated in a bit. I've been busy with life (projects, holy crap), and hadn't had the time to write for this story. I've been writing my own original stories while consuming all the fanfiction and manga I can get. But I'm here! I'm still active and will update, but for the meantime, due to my muse being a bitch---updates will be whenever I get the vibe. However, I am excited about this series and I can't wait to show you all the oc puffs I've created to be (y/n)'s friends!! I love you all and please take care of yourselves! Also!!! Please respond to this post to be added to the taglist i'm creating!! Thx!

𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙞𝙖 |𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧|𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙚𝙣: 𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙃𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚

The hall was silent; everyone stared for a brief moment until Professor McGonagall started clapping. Slowly, the other professors at the high table on the raised dais joined in. Y/n didn’t know what to do. He was frozen—at a standstill. While the table under the yellow banner with a badger applauded and cheered with smiles, he never felt so unwelcome. 

Y/n didn’t notice that the stern professor had removed the old raggedy hat until she urged him off the rickety chair. He didn’t notice his legs moving on their own. Poor Y/n couldn’t hear anything. It was all muffled. As if someone was cupping his ears, shutting him out from the world into a plain of silence. His e/c eyes were glued on Harry. His twin was staring at him with a pained expression. Of course he was sad, thought Y/n bitterly. Why didn’t that talking hat put me in Gryffindor? 

Ever so slowly, Y/n started moving towards the table of his new house. Eyes from the Gryffindor table watched his movements as he slunked towards the long rectangular table. Behind him, Professor McGonagall continued to call out names for each new student to be sorted. Once he reached the table, many eyes and faces greeted him with smiles. They were happy; he realised. Happy to have snatched one of the Potters. Though they did not boast about it like Harry’s house, you could see the joy each one had. 

Before Y/n could sit down, a tall boy with black wavy hair and sky-blue eyes stood up, drawing attention temporarily from Y/n but in the end winded back to being on the young Potter. The boy stopped in front of Y/n and he watched with a terrified expression on his face. 

“‘Ello Potter! The name’s Oliver Benedict, and I’m the seventh year Prefect of Hufflepuff House. If you need anything at all, please come straight towards me. And welcome to Hufflepuff.” Y/n watched in silence as he smiled and gestured to the table behind him. The tall creature smiled too much, which made shivers climb up his spine. Y/n wanted to say hello or nice to meet you, or possibly anything. But alas, all he said was: “Um… w-where d-do I-sit at?” His e/c eyes wandered over the table, trying to figure out where he was supposed to go. He knew from primary school that each table had a group. And he was able to figure out which group was friendly and which one was not. However, there were no multiple tables for Hufflepuff. Just one long rectangular table that had a handful of students. 

“Oh, right!” Oliver cleared his throat and pointed to a small group at the end of the table. “You can sit there with the other first years, or—” He pointed to the front. “You sit with us, seventh and sixth years.” 

Y/n pointed to the rest of the first years. “I think I’ll sit with them; the other first years.” He said shyly. His eyes flickered down to his hands as he fiddled with the black robes of his uniform. 

“Of course, of course.” Oliver chuckled. “Remember now, if you need anything—and I mean anything at all, please come to me and I shall be glad to help you.” With one last friendly smile, Oliver went back to his original seat before Y/n sluggishly walked up to the group of first years. 

He quickly took a seat next to a girl with auburn hair. The girl turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were crystal blue, and she took in Y/n. He smiled, awkwardly. She returned the sentiment and tucked a copper strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Hullo, I’m Rosemary.” She had a bit of an Irish accent, but it wasn’t so prominent. Rosemary held out her hand. “And you are??” 

Y/n took her hand in his. 

“I’m—” 

“That Y/n Potter, that is!” exclaimed a boy with blond hair. He was leaning across the table, staring at Y/n closely. His brown eyes were glued to his scar, making Y/n want to cover it up with his hair. 

“If you don’t know who he is, you must be daft!” 

Rosemary glared at the boy. “And you must be rude to interrupt our conversation, y’know!” She spat venomously. 

The boy next to the rude one simply stared at Y/n. 

“I don’t know who you are.” He said quietly. “I’m Justin Finch-Fletchy.” He held his hand out. Y/n took it. “I’m Y/n Potter.” 

“How is it you don’t know who he is, Justin??” cried out the blond. “You muggle-born or somethin’?” Justin blushed, his cheeks were the colour of beets. 

“Yes. I-I am. Do you have a problem with that?” Justin’s voice quivered slightly. 

“No! ‘Course not! Just cause I’m a pureblood doesn’t mean I believe all that rubbish!” 

Rosemary rolled her eyes. 

“Anyway, I’m Ernie. Ernie Macmallin. Nice to meet you, Justin. Potter.” Ernie purposefully left out Rosemary to goad her, and she knew it too. Glaring at the blond pimple, she scoffed before introducing herself to Justin. 

Y/n watched as Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the sorting hat after a boy named “Zabini” was the last one to be sorted. Soon the hall grew quiet around Y/n as the man sitting at the high table on the raised dais stood up, raising his hands to draw everyone’s attention. 

“Welcome new and returning students!” His voice was soft yet strong at the same time, plus his long white beard reminded Y/n of Father Time. He, like the rest of wizards and witches apparently, wore bright purple robes with blue and burgundy embellishments and embroidery in the fabric. On his head seemed to be an overly large nightcap. “Before we start feasting, I would like to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” 

Laughter boomed through the hall, and Y/n looked around the hall as he said those odd words. His brows were furrowed, confusion laced in his eyes. Was he supposed to laugh? If so, those words weren’t funny. In fact, they were rather strange. Strange word choice. He didn’t like the way the old wizard’s eyes twinkled. It made him shudder. 

“He’s a bit loony, huh?” questioned Rosemary. “My mum thinks so,” whispered a girl with blonde pig-tails. “Dumbledore, loony? Reckon you’re loony if you think the best wizard in the world is loony himself!” claimed Ernie. 

“Thank you, and have a wonderful feast!” He raised a hand and suddenly, dishes appeared. A plate and silverware and goblet materialised in front of him, making Y/n gasp and stare wide-eyed. 

“Whoa,” he whispered. Food started being passed around and lively chatter filled the hall. Soon, food was piled on his plate, drawing some looks from other Hufflepuffs—though Y/n did not care. He was busy eating. He never, in his entire eleven-years of life, has ever seen this much food that he could eat! Harry would be lucky to see him tomorrow and not nursing a food-coma. 

As he shovelled food into his mouth, Y/n missed the glances he received from others. A few Ravenclaws whispered behind their hands, a few Hufflepuffs elbowed each other and pointed, while some Slytherins watched on. Gryffindor house was the only ones that did not notice, for they were too busy being occupied by their new member. 

“Y/n, would you like some potatoes?” He looked up and nodded. “Thanks, Rosemary,” she smiled in return. “No problem,” She brushed her red locks behind her ear. 

“So, Potter, did you and your brother really kill You-Know-Who?” The table became silent. The only ones who spoke were the 7th and 6th years who were far down and didn’t hear. Y/n froze and hesitantly looked up from his plate. His housemates were either staring at him, waiting for his answer, or they were sending glares at Macmillian—Rosemary was in the latter, her fists clenched—and a tense silence was cast on the table. 

Before Y/n could give his answer, someone interrupted him. 

“Oh, shut your trap Macmillian, ye old geezer!” snapped a voice full of a Scottish burr. “The next time a hear any incentive thing comin’ outta yer mouth, a’ll kick yer arse maself!” A tall and muscular girl gripped the rude blond boy by the ear, yanking on him as her eyes, full of fury, was directed on him. “Shame on you for bein’ an old cocker!” Giggles and snorts were heard all around Y/n, as his new housemates laughed at Macmillian. 

“Mary!! Put me down!!” he whined. The giant of a woman sneered and Y/n realised then that somewhere in between her telling him off, she picked Macmillian up by his robes and held him close to her face, a few feet off the ground. The giant—Mary—plopped the scrambling boy down onto the bench and gave him one last glare, before she turned her fiery amber gaze onto Y/n. 

“Am Mary Fraiser, this little twat,” she nudged Macmillian. “--is ma cousin! He’s a shite, ignore ‘im,” Fraiser reached over and held out her hand. Y/n took it gingerly before being yanked a bit as she gripped it and shook. “Nice ta meet you!” 

The Y/n gave her a friendly smile, hoping that she’ll stop shaking his bones with her strength. “I’m Y/n Potter. Nice to meet you as well.” 

The brawley girl barked out a laugh. “Aye we know ye, Potter.” She chuckled before giving Macmillan one last glare before she went to sit further down at the table. 

The rest of the meal, Macmillan ignored Y/n, only talking—more like yelling—with Justin about the wizard sport, Quidditch. It looked like Justin didn’t get it, but nodded along for Macmillan’s sake.  

As Y/n reached for a jug full of pumpkin juice, an arm went straight through the jug, making the Potter boy scream and jerk back. His eyes blown wide, he watched as a fat man wearing a grey frock with a rope tied at the waist flew through the table, moaning as he gazed at the juice longingly. 

“Oh phooey,” he sighed. “I forgot,” 

A few older Hufflepuffs looked on at the ghost with pity. 

“Y-Y-ou’re the Fat Friar,” Y/n said, his eyes watching the ghost with a strange fascination. The ghost turned to look at him, a smile on his face. 

“Indeed, I am Mister Potter! Oh! I heard you were able to be sorted into my old House!! Oh, dear, I hope you’ll enjoy it. We have a celebrity! I cannot wait to rub it in Old Baron's face! Ha!” The Friar flew off towards the Slytherin table. Y/n turned his head to watch. He noticed how the ghost called the Bloody Baron was sitting next to the blond-haired boy—Draco Malfoy. Shaking his head, Y/n went back to his food. 

“What class are you excited for most, Potter?” asked Rosemary, her blue eyes full of curiosity. Before he could answer her, Rosemary interrupted. “I’m very excited for Herbology! My mum is a herbalist, it’s what drew my dad to her, y’know!” 

“I really like Charms, but also I’m very excited about Potions.” 

Someone chuckled. “I thought so too until I knew who was to be our Professor.” Y/n turned his head to look at the voice. He had short black hair and brown slender eyes and a round face. He looked nervous, yet confident at the same time. 

“Snape, that fellow right there,” He pointed to the raised dais where the high table was, and pointed at a man with a hooked nose, shoulder-length black hair and black eyes that were staring at his brother, Harry. 

“He’s a nasty bloke I’ll tell ya,” Y/n watched as “Snape” nodded his head as the professor from Diagon Alley, Professor Quirill, spoke with the black-haired professor. 

“He hates anyone that isn't in his house. It makes Potions dreadful. He’s always hovering and when you make a simple mistake, he takes away so many house points and calls you names.” Y/n and Rosemary gasped. 

“How cruel!” 

“Can he do that?” 

Cried Y/n and Rosemary at the same time, their eyes wide with shock and fury. 

“No one stops him, not even Dumbledore. Tcch.” The boy crossed his arms, his eyes rolling. Realising that he didn't introduce himself, he sighed and offered his hand. “Nakamura Hiroshi, second year.” 

“Y/n Potter,” He gripped Nakamura’s hand. “Rosemary Thorn, nice to meet you,” she smiled and shook his hand. 

“Nice to meet you both,” Nakamura nodded his head in greeting. “Welcome to Hufflepuff House,” 

The Hall fell silent after dessert as Professor Dumbledore stood up from his chair. 

“Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.” A few Hufflepuff’s rolled their eyes. “First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” 

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.” Rosemary leaned over to whisper to an older Hufflepuff. 

 “Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.” Madam Hooch stood up from the High table. “And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.” Only a few people laughed, Harry being one of them, along with Justin, who looked around at the worried eyes of their new housemates looking grim. 

“He’s… he’s not joking?” asked Justin, his voice wavering. “Nah, he ain’t. A jus’ wanna know wat it is,'' spoke Mary a few seats down. 

“Usually Dumbledore gives us a reason,” murmured another student. 

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Y/n noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed. Oh, no. Nakamura and Mary firmly placed their hands over their ears. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

 “Everyone please your their favorite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”

 And the school bellowed:

 “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

 Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

 Our heads could do with filling

 With some interesting stuff,

 For now they’re bare and full of air,

 Dead flies and bits of fluff,

 So teach us things worth knowing,

 Bring back what we’ve forgot,

 just do your best, we’ll do the rest,

 And learn until our brains all rot.”

The noise was painful. Y/n had placed his hands over his ears when it first started. “Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. Rosemary whispered to Y/n. “Was that really music?” He chuckled, smirking at the auburn-haired girl. “A magic beyond all we do here!” 

“And now, bedtime. Off you trot!” Prefects, Oliver and a girl with short blue hair and green eyes, stood up with a bunch of other students from the three other tables, calling out: “First year Ravenclaws, follow us,” “First year Slytherins, follow us,” “First year Gryffindors, with me.” 

Y/n watched with sad eyes as he and Harry were split from each other, one wearing red and gold and the other yellow and black. 

Oliver and the witch led Harry and his fellow first years through the corridors of Hogwarts. Y/n watched as the other students, red and gold, blue and bronze, climbed the grand and moving staircase—thanks to Hogwarts: A History—that Y/n couldn’t wait to explore. While he and the rest of the first years followed their Prefects. Rosemary stuck close by him, pointing to the portraits that lined the cobblestone walls. 

“Our common room is in the basement?” whispered Justin. Macmillan nodded. 

“Yeah, it’s near the kitchens,” a smirk formed on his face. 

They climbed down the non-moving staircase and they felt a slight chill in the air. Rosemary stuck close by Y/n, pointing to the fruit themed portraits that lined the cobblestone walls. They passed a portrait of a bowl of fruit—that reminded Y/n of the bowl of fruit that muggle art teachers would have their students paint or draw—and Y/n could hear a slight commotion happening behind the portrait. Frowning, he looked at Rosemary, seeing if she had any clue as to what it was. Her face was marred in confusion. So she didn’t know what it was then, mused Y/n. 

“If you need a map of Hogwarts, please let us know, myself and Oliver shall provide you with one.” Commented the female perfect, a friendly smile on her face. 

The group stopped together at a nook, hidden by… barrels? Y/n looked at it in confusion. 

“Unlike the other houses where they need a password or need to answer a riddle, for us, we need to tap on these barrels to a rhythm, our House Founder’s song’s rhythm. We will teach you the rhythm tomorrow after your classes. So until then, stick together in a group and we’ll assign an older student to let you in and out of the common room.” Oliver smiled at the first years. “Now, Ethel, will you do the honours?” Ethel—the other prefect—nodded her head. She approached the barrels and tapped two from the bottom, and two in the middle row, and one in the top row. A soft melody played from the barrels, and the door of the nook opened. 

Y/n peered into the doorway along with the other first years. The ceiling was low; the room was round and had two small platforms with a staircase leading up to a door. One said Gents, the other Ladies. It must be the dorms, Y/n thought to himself. There was a sense of warmth and welcoming to the room. The smell of vanilla and sunflowers reached Y/n’s nose. It brought a sense of homeliness to the common room. It made him want to cuddle up in a blanket and read one of the books about dragons by the fireplace and drink some hot chocolate with marshmallows. It temporarily made him forget about his dread and his sadness. It made him forget that Harry wasn’t with him. His heart winced at the thought. 

“Welcome,” Oliver smiled. “To Hufflepuff House,” 

Authors Note:

Happy birthday Harry, Y/n Potter! Hope you enjoyed this weekends chapter! I don't know when the next one will be, hopefully soon, but this Monday I'm starting my last semester at school, so wish me luck! A lot of the characters that'll be showin' up will most likely be OC's, so I'm plannin' on doing an introduction to Hufflepuff house students of Hogwarts soon so you'll get a feel of them when they get older! Thanks for reading! xx

Taglist:

@officialsaturn

@mysticanxy

mike: why does vecna keep trying to kill us?

will: maybe hes homophobic

mike: were not gay will

will, dustin, lucas, max, el, steve, robin, nancy, eddie, jonathan, argyle: we're not???

I have posted the first chapter to my LPS:Popular fanfiction!

It's posted on A03 under the name; LPS Popular: Thorns and Roses. Updates will be very sporadic lmfao.

Here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53404342

It's time for gay furry tension baby.

Just nine hours left till „For the Future“

My Avatar Yue AU

So, in this AU Yue is the Avatar, but I guess that was pretty obvious by the title. A few pockets of airbenders survived and one of them sought refuge in the Northern Water Tribe (the Northerners respect the air nomad culture and don't meddle with it. as for teaching women bending, female airbenders learn airbending, if only for the fact that they aren't considered learning combat because air nomads are pacifists)

Yue knows she can waterbend, but is only allowed to learn healing because the Northern Water Tribe is still sexist. Nobody knows Yue is the Avatar for a long time, Arnook figures it out when Yue is about 12-13 and keeps it from everyone because the north shouldn't get involved with the war. Aang is an Airbender only, and he is born in the North Pole. Aang and Yue are best friends.

Shortly before Yue's 16th birthday she overhears her dad and Pakku talking in another room: Arnook wants to tell Yue she's the Avatar, but Pakku is trying to convince him otherwise. Yue ends up saying something (i'm not sure if I should word it as a confrontation because Yue doesn't seem like the confrontational type [yet] but more just shock and 'you were keeping secrets about me, from me'). Yue tells Aang about a day later and he suggests going to the South Pole (they don't know all the waterbenders there are gone) we still have Appa, so they decide to run away (they each pack a bag first, and Yue leaves a letter for her dad). Yue's Avatar guide animal is gonna be some sort of rabbit hybrid, I just don't know what to cross it with.

Yue isn't going to learn the elements in order, mainly because she has a master airbender with her from the start.

Sokka is 17 in this AU, so in my mind he was just old enough to go with his dad and all the other men. At some point more recently he got separated from everyone else and ends up trying to find his way to the South Pole for some reason. Also, he has a scar, but I'm thinking he got it in a really stupid way, like he slipped down a hill with some sharp rocks or something.

Ty Lee is an airbender, too. Azula and Ty Lee find this out at the same time. Ursa tried to be a better mom for Azula, so Azula actually cares about at least one person in this (Ty Lee) and they run away from the Fire Nation and kind of just hide in the Earth Kingdom woods. Maybe Azula does some random vigilante shit. I don't know what I'm doing with Mai yet, though.

I'm debating if Katara left the South Pole at some point earlier. She might have because she wouldn't have a reason to leave like the same timeline, I just need to find a new motive for her to leave (probably going to find Sokka for some reason. Maybe Hakoda sent a message that Sokka got separated from everyone else?), and maybe she left when she was like, 13. I'm thinking that maybe she ends up stranded in the fire nation and gets taken in by none other than Hama. Katara hasn't had her emotional growth and is still Katara from the beginning of season 1 and she doesn't have Sokka or Aang for moral support and I think she would be a bit more impressional... aka, I'm gonna have Hama teach Katara waterbending and bloodbending.

So, back to plot. Yue and Aang start travelling to the south pole, of course they are stopping along the way and will meet some people. First, in the semi-north woods of the Earth Kingdom, Yue and Aang meet Azula and Ty Lee. Now, I don't think Yue trusts them... yet, and neither does Azula (as in she doesn't really trust Yue and Aang) Ty Lee is more trusting, and so is Aang, especially after he finds out Ty Lee is also an airbender. Azula and Ty Lee agree to join Aang and Yue. Yue and Azula agree to sort-of trust each other.

Soon enough, Aang agrees to start teaching Yue and Ty Lee airbending as they travel. Ty Lee has already airbended a bit and can pick up on the techniques to improve a bit easier. Yue on the other hand, has never airbended before and has to figure out how to do it. Maybe Yue is slightly jealous that Ty Lee is getting it quicker than her. After some help from both of them she'll get it.

As they head further south Azula reveals stuff about the comment (I have no idea how to get Roku to tell Yue about the comet and all that stuff, and Azula would know when the comet is coming, even if she's been gone for at least a year). Azula also currently refuses to teach Yue any firebending; half because she doesn't think Yue can handle another element yet, and half because she doesn't want to try to train someone (and probably doesn't yet trust herself to teach someone).

They end up a short while north of Kyoshi Island when a strange boy they don't know comes out of the trees. This boy is Sokka. They help Sokka get to the south pole to see his sister, but he also tells him that his sister, Katara, is the last waterbender in the south pole, severely deflating Yue. They still accompany him. They all find out Katara left about half-a-year earlier to find Sokka. Zuko has been tracking the person he's hearing about, the Avatar. Zuko however, still believes the Avatar is an airbender. So, hims and Iroh have been tracking the Avatar across the globe, to the south pole. Zuko still captures Aang under the impression that he is the Avatar, and Aang just goes along with it because he wants to protect his friends. Yue, Sokka, Azula, and Ty Lee go to rescue him. Azula is not in any way happy to see her brother, and still feels like she is better than him, I'm not sure if she'll get involved if not just so I can leave Zuko's reaction to her being there for later.

Soon enough, Azula agrees to teach Yue the basics of firebending. I think this might be the hardest element for Yue to master, Yue is the embodiment of water (specifically moon water) in my head, and fire is the opposite of water. if anyone has any other ideas for what the hardest element for Yue to get would be, please leave a comment.

Anyway, from there we are gonna briefly go to Kyoshi Island. They won't stay long enough for Zuko to follow them there, though. I just need them to meet Suki.

Now, when they get further into the Earth Kingdom they meet Toph. Yue and Azula know how to talk to upper-class people and are able to subtly lie to convince Toph's parents to let her come with them under the guise of Avatar political meeting things. Toph will be starting to train Yue earthbending after a little while.

I haven't figured out how Zuko's redemption would go in this yet, or how the battle of the north happens, if it even does.

They will be meeting Katara at some point, I haven't figured out if it will be when they go to the fire nation or before that. The whole Eclipse invasion will still happen. Katara will definitely be at least slightly more aggressive, essentially a bit of Dark!Katara. She would definitely be extremely aggressive towards Azula specifically. She also still hasn't had any sort of resolve of her mother's death, and it has fuelled her anger (through Hama's manipulation, I'm gonna call it that because she's using Kya's death as a point to make Katara angry at the fire nation) like, she's probably willing to kill someone in this AU, and more likely to actually do it than canon Katara.

Katara is gonna teach Yue combat waterbending, in exchange Yue could teach her healing and Katara can become a bit closer to canon Katara.

This post was originally gonna have multiple fic ideas I have for AtLA but this post got really long with this fic alone, so, I'll talk about other stuff later on.

Also, a bit of this was inspired by another tumblr post, but I never kept the link, so I can't link it, I'm sorry. I also don't remember who the post was by.