Oh my God, this just made my whole day.
the best thing about this is that this was literally all in the same photoshoot for the same damn issue of the same damn magazine
Emma’s photo: She’s beauty and she’s grace.
Rupert: Looks ready to woo you with his acoustic skills.
Dan: ANARCHY!!
‘TWAS I WHO SET THE HOUSE ABLAZE
Tags:
#Harry Potter #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #juxtaposition
concept: willy wonka and harry potter take place in the same universe
the ministry of magic haaaates Willy Wonka“Mr. Wonka,” Dumbledore smiled warmly, looking down into the Pit from his podium. The members of the Wizengamot muttered disapprovingly, shifting in their seats. Willy Wonka, clad today in a bright magenta suit and tophat, beamed cheekily up at them from his chair, his silver-gloved hands cradling his chin.
“Mr. Dumbledore,” He replied brightly, with the barest hint of a lisp.
“I trust you know why you are here?” Dumbledores question was crisp and businesslike, but the twinkle in his eye gave away his amusement at the situation.
“Not at all! I’ve nary a clue,” Wonka wiggled his eyebrows. Dumbledore audibly stifled a laugh.
“You are accused of improper use of magic, improper use of muggle artifacts, and several counts of using magic in front of a muggle,” Dumbledore reminded him. He conjured a projection with his wand. Displayed in grainy sepia was Willy Wonka, arm around a boy of around 10. Behind his back, he twitched an ash wand, and machines in the background around them whirred to life, producing all manner of sweets.
The projection ran its course and collapsed, and Dumbledore stowed his wand back inside his robes.
Wonka smiled and fiddled with his hat.
“How do you plead?” Dumbledore asked, leaning forward eagerly for what would surely be an amusing trial.
“Not guilty on all counts,” Wonka said, perhaps a tad smugly.
The members of the Wizengamot muttered amongst themselves. Not Guilty? Impossible!
Dumbledore hushed them quickly. “Explain, if you would. We have, after all, quite a mountain of evidence.”
Wonka stood and brushed a bit of dust off his suit. He tipped his hat mischievously. “Of course,” he grinned.
“Firstly, use of magic shall only be considered improper whereby it is applied to cause harm or applied recklessly. All magic used in my sweets is rigorously tested for both safety and taste. It is not used to cause harm, but to bring joy.” Wonka paused to adjust his jacket.
“But surely,” Dumbledore said, leafing through his notes, “you cannot deny that you illegally charmed several thousand muggle artifacts?”
“Ah, but I can,” Wonka said, now twirling his cap in his hands. “Muggle artifact refers, of course, to any muggle made object. But, you see, I built those machines, each and every one. They are not muggle machines at all, but wizarding machines, built by a wizard. The factory itself, as well. You could argue that, as machines are a muggle invention, I still broke the rules, but then I could argue that every wizard dwelling with any charms applied to its walls is in violation of the law, as muggles were the first to make bricks.”
The Wizengamot glared silently. He was right, of course. Violating the spirit of the law was not illegal if one followed the letter.
“And the last charge? These are definitely Muggle children, are they not? No magical talent, raised in muggle society?” Dumbledore straightened his glasses and peered down at Wonka, his eyes still bright with intrigue.
“Not at all,” Wonka grinned, placing his hat back on his head. “You see, the ticket system was not nearly so random as I pretended. The tickets were charmed, they would only becomes visible to children with magical heritage. All the children chosen were second generation Squibs.” Wonka bowed low, as if he were finishing a particularly well executed play.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems no laws were violated after all.” Dumbledore stifled a grin at the groans of angry disapproval from the Wizengamot.
“But he very clearly violated the intent of the rules!” Spluttered a large, rather red faced wizard in the second row. “He’s just…cheating! He’s cheating!”
“Ah, this is true, but he did not, technically speaking, break any of the rules. He did not expose muggles to magic, nor enchant muggle made objects, nor improperly apply magic anymore so than any magical confectioner. I’m afraid we have to let him go.” Dumbledore smiled gently and put away the rather thick file with Wonka’s name embossed on the cover. For the brief second it was open, a list of hundreds of charges with “Not Guilty” inked beside them was visible. It was carried off by a house elf, and the Wizengamot began to file out until only Dumbledore was left.
“You’re a very clever man,” He called down to Wonka. “We could use you at Hogwarts, you know.”
“No thank you,” Wonka called back, grinning. “Skirting the law is far more fun!”
Willy Wonka is a fucking Slytherin.
Second-generation Squibs? Now I want to know what Wonka told Grandpa Joe.
Tags:
#Harry Potter #Willy Wonka #fanfic
I saw Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them a couple days ago.
(spoilers behind cut)
Thing I liked: the amount of short-range Apparition in this movie. Characters routinely use teleporting to get past grates, to jump from one building rooftop to the next, to dodge attacks. This is a very Correct use of teleportation and I approve.
Thing I did not like: the amount of Obliviation in this movie. Like, even more than I was expecting. Were we supposed to consider the mass mind-wiping of an entire city a happy ending?
I spent most of the movie worried about whether Newt’s Muggle companion* was going to make it through intact. At the end, the President of Wizarding America is like “You’re going to have to obliviate him, but I’ll give you a chance to say goodbye”, and then she and all her lackeys walk away. Now, to someone who is already thinking about the Eleventh Doctor, this is clearly code for “I’m going to look the other way while you smuggle him to safety”. Except Kowalski then does a 180 on his previously-expressed desire to stay in touch with the wizarding world, says some “I was never supposed to know, this is how things should be” bullshit, and deliberately walks out into the rainstorm of Lethe water. *sigh*
(It didn’t just remind me of Doctor Who, you know, but of a movie I saw when I was a child. Another movie with a setting hidden amongst ordinary New Yorkers, and which was far, far more horrifying than it thought it was.)
(when the monsters came for me, they did not wield claws or teeth or guns, but those little silvery sticks)
*My brain insists on referring to Kowalski as a “companion”, because Newt has the same accent as Matt Smith and once that’s gotten you to start seeing Newt as the Doctor, it turns out to be kind of hard to stop.
Tags:
#in conclusion: #entertaining movie #will make you side-eye your water bottle #amnesia cw #oh look an original post #Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
(Everyone is standing in line at the San Antonio Rivercenter Mall book store. It is very close to midnight)
Girl in the Line: READ US THE FIRST WORD!
(Employee opens up the book in front of everyone. He speaks)
Employee: “THE”
(Everyone cheers)
Tags:
#Harry Potter #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog
remus actually wanted to take tonks’ surname when they got married, because being ‘remus tonks’ is still so much better than being moon moon
Tags:
#Harry Potter #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog
The true north American hogwarts houses are bigfoot, mothman, jersey devil, and the chupacabra and you’ll never convince me otherwise
I’m in Mothman
You might belong in Bigfoot
Where live the wild and strange
Who are difficult to understand
And harder still to change
Or else, belong in Mothman
With that otherworldly kind
Whose mystic, alien knowledge
Could blow your human mind
Or with those in Jersey Devil,
With passion for so many things
They love to run, but want to fly,
Thus, grow both hooves and wings.
Or else, in Chupacabra
If your resourcefulness exceeds
These clever opportunists know
How to get to what they need
ok but this is amazing???!??!?!!
Tags:
#Harry Potter #home of the brave
Hot damn, I just thought of something really cool. So, like, I headcanon that Harry kept Parseltongue after he lost the horcrux, because it’s just really fun to imagine stuff like Harry talking to Albus Severus’ pet snake or finding a little snake in the garden and hissing a hello. Parseltongue is really neat and snakes are awesome, so it’s so feel-good to imagine that instead of being used for Dark Arts, Harry’s just using it to make convo to little scaly cuties.
Like, Parseltongue apparently transfers with the soul or whatever? So you could totally claim that Harry’s soul/magic kept/learned the skill. A skill passed down through the soul/magic could totally transfer that way.
But… do you know who also had a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside them and was speaking Parseltongue pretty regularly for a long period of time? Ginny. Ginny Weasley.
So imagine twelve-year-old Ginny Weasley going home to heal after the whole Chamber of Secrets business, and finding a snake in the garden, muttering about sunny rocks and sleep. And it scares her so badly at first, because what if Tom isn’t really gone? What if Tom’s still lurking in some dark place in her head? She freaks out and nearly doesn’t come home for dinner that day… except… then she remembers that Harry can speak Parseltongue too.
Harry had an horrible encounter with Voldemort where Voldemort tried to take his life and somehow a piece of his power transferred to Harry, so now Harry can speak Parseltongue. Maybe she just got a piece of power too when Tom tried to steal her life?
It’d be really cool to have an AU where Ginny kept Parseltongue and decided that no, I’m not going to let Tom run my life and was treated Parseltongue like the cool trick it is. And Harry is the only one who full gets it and doesn’t get a little bit uncomfortable when she drops into hissing, and maybe Harry shyly gets encouraged to start hissing back. Voldemort tried to ruin our lives so let’s stick it to him and his Slytherin ancestors, right? Yeah!
Anyway, twelve year old Ginny and thirteen year old Harry having hissing conversations at the Gryffindor table, using it to talk smack and have inside jokes, and using it to scare the heck of out any pureblood supremacists. (Who are all absolutely scandalized because Parseltongue is something Salazar Slytherin is famous for and here it’s being using for casual conversation and Quidditch commentary by a Potter and a Weasley.)
Just picture these two adorable children hissing jokes at each other in the hallways and helping each other recover from their fear and trauma.
Ginny (in Parseltongue), “<Hey Harry, let’s both stare at Malfoy breaking into laughter and hissing at each other in Parseltongue.>”
Harry, “<…That would totally freak him out. …I’m in.>”
Ginny, “<Okay, he’s noticed we’re staring now.>”
Draco, “Do you have something to say Potter?!”
Ginny, “<Laugh now.>”
Harry and Ginny burst out into enormous laughter and Draco Malfoy is furious and gets increasingly mad as Harry and Ginny crack up and hiss things like, “<Great weather we’re having today!>” and “<How about them Harpies?>”
And Draco can’t call a Professor on them because he can’t prove they’re saying anything bad (and it’s just icing on the top that they actually aren’t and he’s getting worked up over nothing).This continues well into their relationship and into adulthood. All of the Potter-Weasley children can speak Parseltongue and have a foolproof way of having secret conversation in public. Sometimes they have to smack Jamie Sirius on the head to use English in public and tell Lily Luna to stop trying to scare people and convince them you’re the next Dark Lady. Harry and Ginny hiss at each other all throughout Ministry Events and Quidditch Events (Rita Skeeter cannot eavesdrop on them and she is furious) and to their children, lovingly telling them in this “language of the Dark Arts” to “<Behave yourselves>“ and ”<Remember to wear your jumper when it’s cold out.>“
Somewhere out there Tom Riddle and scores of Gaunts are rolling in their graves. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley do not care.
Tags:
#Harry Potter #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog
You know you’re in for a treat when someone consistently refers to sex as “the sex act.”
“The fuck word”
“Harry yells fuck-word after fuck-word.”
(Please watch all of this.)
Tags:
#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #oh god that video #I’m not big on video in general but I may have to look into this #Harry Potter
controversial: dumbledore would’ve made the right decision taking the 1991-1992 house cup away from slytherin even if harry and co. hadn’t saved the school and stopped voldemort from returning to power
Can I ask why? Genuinely curious here
Slytherin students didn’t have better academic performance and they certainly didn’t have better behavior than the other houses. What they did have was a head of house who would award his own students points for almost no reason while handing out penalties to other houses like candy. If Draco Malfoy answered a question correctly in potions, he’d be awarded ten points, while Hermione giving the same answer would lose ten points for being a know-it-all.
That’s the thing, the game was rigged in Slytherin’s favor. Snape set his own house up to win, through absolutely no merit of their own, seven years in a row with no penalty. Meanwhile Dumbledore is made out to be the one who “just hands victory to his own house” after four members of his house put their lives on the line to save the school from a genocidal mass-murderer.
Gryffindor deserved the house cup because their students saved the school, but even if they didn’t, Slytherin should have had it taken away from them because they didn’t earn it.
I can’t even condemn Dumbledore for letting Slytherin believe they’d won, sit in a green-and-silver dining hall, and then changing it when he announced they’d actually lost, because after seven years of cheating, it’s not enough for them to just lose. If they’d just lost, they’d think they were cheated out of something that’s rightfully theirs. Allowing them to believe they’d just once again been handed an award they didn’t deserve, and then giving it directly to the house that actually did something to deserve it, teaches a valuable lesson.
Anyway, if we’re going to criticize Dumbledore’s abilities as a school administrator for anything, it’s how unchecked he left Snape’s treatment of his students. Even putting aside the emotional and physical abuse he inflicted on his students, there should have been some provision in place to prevent his abuse of the points system before he had a chance to hand it to his own students for ONE year, let alone seven.
There should have been a provision that the current holder of the house cup is ineligible for participation in the next year’s competition. There should be an upper limit on how many points you can take away from another house’s students, and how many points you can give to your own students. Students should be able to appeal unfair penalties to the headmaster.
Point is, Slytherin shouldn’t get an award just because their head-of-house refuses to play fair
I never thought of it like this before. Thank you so much, OP
Tags:
#Harry Potter #meta #interesting
Wait, so, after being chosen as the fourth TriWizard Champion, Harry was immediately asked if he had an older student put his name in for him. So, like, was it actually that easy? Because if it was, you can’t tell me that some broke-ass Slytherin seventh-year didn’t immediately realize this and start raking in the cash. Like damn, they don’t want to be a part of this Insane Danger Stunt Show themselves, but they’ll put basically any scrap of paper you want into that stupid cup for a sickle.
You’re a first-year who can’t cast Wingardium Leviosa yet? Whatever, sure, just pay up. There’s no way you’re going to be chosen against Angelina “Can Probably Crush You With Her Thighs” Johnson, but at least you can tell all your eleven-year-old buddies that you Did A Cool Thing.
You wanna forcibly enter your friend without their consent? Hell no, get that shit out of here. I’m a Slytherin, not a complete bastard. If I’ve hear about you trying this shit again, I’mma curse your butt into the Lake and report you to Flitwick. You might think that’s funny because he’s short, but you will learn, young padawan. You will fear the Flitwick.
You’re a third-year who thinks that becoming the Hogwarts Champion will impress your crush? Okay, into the fiery cup. But also lmfao, have you even seen Cedric “Hottie McDreamy the Hufflepuff” Diggory? Like, hot damn.
You wanna enter your owl? Your cat? Your toad? Go for it, man, that’d be effing hilarious. I would actually pay to see that Tournament.
You’re a fifth-year who genuinely wants to enter the Tournament? Well, okay, but man, I am roomies with Cassius “Wake Up Before Noon At Your Own Risk” Warrington and he’d be grinding you into the floor under the heel of his handmade, Italian, dragon-hide shoes before you even knew what hit you.
You wanna enter… McGonagall? No, no, nonononono. That’s how people effing die, man. Like, she would destroy the competition and it would be glorious to behold and I would cry tears of awe at the sheer beauty of her wrath… but also, I am too young and beautiful to die. She would find us and we would die. Best scenario is she keeps us as pet mice forever.
So after the Weasley twins get their Age Potion issues fixed, a tiny Slytherin first-year girl sidles up to them in the halls and whispers, “You wanna enter the Tournament? Phil can hook you up. But you didn’t hear it from me!” And so the Weasley twins go find Phil, and Phil tells them straight up, “One slip for a sickle, three for two, five for three, and ten for four.”
Fred’s like, “Does entering your name more than once actually do anything?”
Phil, “Don’t know, don’t care.” (It doesn’t, Phil’s checked. He’d charge more if it did.)
And how does Phil get away with entering all these names? He tells all the supervising professors that he’s entering his own name – again and again and again – for a better chance at being selected. Professor Sprout informs him gently that this won’t make a difference and Phil tells her with the wide-eyed innocence of someone running a major scam operation that “Might as well try, Professor! Maybe diligence with pay off in the long run!”
Sprout’s heart melts, and everyone in the know facepalms. Everyone not in the know looks at him with “cheating Slytherin!” expressions and Phil dgaf because he’s got a giant pile of money now, suckers. [Snape noticed something was up, but didn’t care enough to stop it. Moody also noticed, but didn’t do anything. (Barty approves.)]
Entering more names doesn’t help because it’s not a lottery, the Goblet actually chooses, so a person can only really be entered once. It’s probably actually a good thing that Cedric “Tried to have a won Quidditch match made invalid out of fairness” Diggory and Harry “I am confused and I don’t want to be here” Potter were chosen. Because if fourth-year Ravenclaw Travis Collins had been chosen, the Goblet would have spat out all one-hundred and eighty-three scraps of paper with his name on it.
“Kids these days have too much pocket-money,” Phil comments as he comforts his boyfriend, Cassius Warrington, for being passed over in favor of Cedric “Made of Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice” Diggory, and counts the massive pile of money he’s collected. “Kinda wish the fiery cup had picked that kid’s Kneazle, though. That would’ve been awesome.”
[-Inspired by this post by @accio-shitpost-]
I wanna read more about Phil and his boyfriend Cassius Warrington.
OK, but I read the part about entering your pets and all I can think about is the name ‘Trevor Longbottom’ coming out of the cup and the teachers are all confused because “did we somehow miss or forget that Neville has an older brother? Did Frank and Alice have a secret hidden love child during their Hogwarts years?” Meanwhile, half the Gryffindors are groaning and face palming because who doesn’t know about Trevor ‘constantly lost but probably actually trying to escape this insane asylum of a school’ Longbottom? and poor little nervous Neville, who certainly had nothing to do with Trevor’s name being entered, slowly makes his way too the front of the room and Dumbledore just looks at him curiously and Neville gulps and extends his hands, which Trevor is sitting in and as realisation dawns on the various professor’s faces, everyone collectively looses their shit.
I’m laughing so hard. Also also just imagine Errol’s name coming out. Oh man. Just… Oh man…
This is my favorite hc ever and I need a fic on this desperately
(OP here) Oh man, you are all my favorite people. But that animal thing is totally technically possible, because Barty Confunded the Goblet of Fire, right? It would take an exceptionally powerful and talented witch or wizard to enchant such an ancient magical artifact, right? But seriously, what if Barty had fucked up? That thing is ancient, there’s no way anyone in modern day really knows how the fuck it works.
Frankly, I am completely convinced that the Goblet of Fire is a horrible hodgepodge of experimental magic as some random witch tries to create some way to choose Champions. I have henceforth named her Gonilda and she is the magical computer programmer of 1294, and the creation process of the Goblet was a fucking disaster.
Like, “Shit, I’ve got this super ugly pot that my kid made me in his pottery class the other day, will that do?” “Okay, okay, how do I make the Goblet have only three schools?” “Fuck, Fredreich, made a note to make sure that it won’t explode if more than 13 students are entered because apparently this stubborn piece of ceramics can’t count for shit.” “HOW THE FUCK IS THIS JUDGING PROCESS SUPPOSED TO WORK? IF THIS SON OF A PITCH DOESN’T COOPERATE, I’M MAKING THIS SHIT RANDOM.” (’Gonilda, no.” “GONILDA, YES, DAMN IT!”) “Okay, okay, I think it works now. But also, I have no idea how to reset it. Can we only hold this shitty tournament once?” (”Gonilda, no.” “Fuck you, Fredreich.”) “OKAY, NOW IT WORKS! Just one more tiny detail an- Shit, it’s on fire now. …Can I just leave it on fire? I’m leaving it on fire.” (”Gonilda, no.” “I’m done, I’m out. It’s on fire and I’m not going to do shit about it.”)
Person in charge of running the Triwizard Tournament: “Ah, Fredreich, wonderful! And you met our deadline! Please give ours thanks to Mistress Gonilda for her exceptional wo- … Why is it on fire?”
Gonilda (in the distance): “BECAUSE FUCK YOU, THAT’S WHY.”
So basically, the Goblet of Fire works because nobody fucking touch it. It’s on fire, we don’t need to make it explode, folks. Just nobody do anything weird to it and we all collectively pray it keeps working.
And then along comes Barty Crouch Junior and he’s like, “I’mma Confund this cup for this Evil Plot by the Dark Lord Voldemort so it chooses Harry Potter.” Except the Goblet of Fire is a disaster and Barty’s Confundus works for maybe five minutes before something in it breaks, and it’s magical programming is basically just flipping through magical error messages.
Error 400: Bad Request – What the Fuck Are You Doing, Dipshit?!?
Error 403: Forbidden – Dear Fredreich, Stop Doing Shit, You Don’t Know Crap. With Much Love, Mistress Gonilda.
Error 405: Method Not Allowed – Seriously, Dipshit, What the Fuck?
Error 409: Conflict – With Literally Everything. Great Going, Assface.
Barty, why? Why would you try and poke an ancient disaster like this? You were so preoccupied with whether you could do it that you didn’t stop to think if you should. You did it, you crazy son of a bitch, you did it. See, here I am now by myself, talking to myself. That’s Chaos Theory.
Anyway…
Cue small, adorable, innocent first-year voice rising out of the crowd at the Champion Selection Ceremony: “Headmaster Dumbledore? Why is there black smoke coming out of it?”
Cue second small, adorable, innocent first-year voice: “Is it supposed to be making that tea-kettle sound? Why is it screaming?”
Then the Goblet just starts spitting out Champions like it’s freakin’ Oprah or something. Set fire to the fucking rain. YOU GET TO BE A TRIWIZARD CHAMPION! YOU GET TO BE A TRIWIZARD CHAMPION! EVERYBODY GETS TO BE A TRIWIZARD CHAMPION!
(Errol Weasley, Trevor Longbottom, every female Durmstrang student, Professor Trelawny, the Weasley twins twice, a Hogwarts seventh-year from every house, Fleur Delacour and a group of Beauxbatons boys that looks like a boy-band in disguise, Harry Potter five times over, that one kid’s Kneazle, etc. The list goes on.)
Cassius Warrington looks beside him to his boyfriend, who is currently trying to slide underneath a table and maybe phase himself out of existence by sheer willpower, muttering about how he’s now going to die at the hands of Minerva McGonagall and running away to Barbados.
“Phil,” Cassius says seriously, “What the fuck did you do.”
Tags:
#Harry Potter #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog
Brinens and Things 