This wedding is supposed to be a happy occasion! Let’s not bicker and argue about who killed who.
—Olenna Tyrell, A Storm of Swords
1. Your skin may never be perfect, and that’s okay.
2. Life is too short not to have the underwear, the coffee, and the haircut you want.
3. Everyone (including your family, your coworkers, and your best friend) will talk about you behind your back, and you’ll talk about them too. It doesn’t mean you don’t love each other.
4. It’s okay to spend money on things that make you happy.
5. Sometimes without fault or reason, relationships deteriorate. It will happen when you’re six, it will happen when you’re sixty. That’s life.
See, Rowling largely operates Harry’s generation in a clear system of parallels to the previous generation, Marauders and all. Harry is his father—Quidditch star, a little pig-headed sometimes, an excellent leader. Ron is Sirius Black—snarky and fun, loyal to a fault, mired in self-doubts. Hermione is Remus Lupin—book smart and meticulous, always level-headed, unfailingly perceptive. Ginny is Lily Evans—a firecracker, clever and kind, unwilling to take excuses. Draco Malfoy is Severus Snape—a natural foil to Harry, pretentious, possessed of the frailest ego and also deeper sense of right and wrong when it counts. And guess what? Neville Longbottom is Peter Pettigrew.
Neville is a perfect example of how one single ingredient in the recipe can either ruin your casserole (or stew, or treacle tart, whatever you like), or utterly perfect your whole dish. Neville is the tide-turner, the shiny hinge. And all because he happens to be in the same position as Wormtail… but makes all the hard choices that Pettigrew refused the first time around. Other characters are in similar positions, but none of them go so far as Neville. None of them prove that the shaping of destiny is all on the individual the way he does.
“He – won’t – sleep!”
“Give him here.”
“No, James, we’re supposed to be getting his sleeping pattern back on track-”
“One night won’t hurt.”
Lily passed a very awake Harry into James’ arms. The baby wriggled and giggled, his father tickling his tiny body.
Lily slumped on the sofa, evidently exhausted. Harry clutched at James’ glasses, sending them even more askew.
“He hasn’t slept properly since Padfoot came around,” muttered Lily, half grumpily, half amusedly.
“Well, Pads wanted to stay up with him. He only gets to see him about once every six months,” said James, as Harry crawled onto Lily’s lap.
Lily smiled at the beaming boy who was chuckling with his parents. “Do you think he has any idea there’s a war going on?”
“Who? Sirius? I think he has some idea, Lils, I mean-”
“Not Sirius,” said Lily gently, trying to tame Harry’s hair, “Harry.”
James smiled. “Nah, look at him,” he said, as Harry attempted to swing from Lily’s long locks of red hair. “I think it’s our finest achievement, raising a happy baby in all this crap,” he said fondly.
Lily nodded, smiling in agreement. “Do you want some coffee?”
“I’d love some,” said James, grinning.
Lily smiled. “Okay. But it’ll cost you one kiss.”
James grinned and clasped his wife’s face with his hands, pressing his lips against hers. Lily pulled away playfully, grabbed her wand and sped to the kitchen.
“Hey, little guy,” whispered James, picking Harry up hugging him close. The baby gurgled and laughed, and James began throwing him in the air, causing him to erupt into even more giggles.
He then pulled out his wand from his pocket, and began making small clouds of coloured smoke puff out from the wand; Harry giggled at his favourite trick, clasping at the clouds with his chubby little fists.
Lily arrived in the living room shortly after, two steaming mugs of coffee clutched in her hands.
“Baby down, Potter,” she said, holding the coffee out of James’ reach. “Babies and hot liquids don’t mix.”
“Whatever you say, Potter,” replied James with a smirk. He chucked his wand on the coffee table and, once Lily had set the coffee down, threw Harry into her arms.
“God, he’s grown so much,” she said.
“I know,” James agreed. “Soon he’ll be off to Hogwarts, riding the Hogwarts Expr-”
“Don’t!” said Lily, hugging Harry close. “He’s growing up too fast! It only seems like yesterday that it was last Halloween, and you’d dressed him up in that God awful snitch costume!”
“That was a good outfit!” said James. He laughed, Lily grinned.
“It’s a shame we didn’t dress him up this year, really,” she added.
“Ah well, we’ve got next year,” replied James. He smiled, and there was a moment – right there, whilst he was gazing at his beautiful wife and wonderful son – where it seemed impossible to think there was a war going on. Impossible to think that such atrocities could even exist in a world where there was such magnificent beauty.
“I love you, Lils,” said James, almost breathlessly.
Lily smiled. “I love you too, you soppy git,” she replied.
And then the front door burst open. Lily screamed, Harry cried, and James sprinted to the hallway, the white light horrifically illuminating the corpse-like figure of Lord Voldemort.
Turning to Lily, James screamed without hesitation, “Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off-”
do you ever think about the judges for the triwizard tournament trying to figure out who to kidnap for the second task
like they’re all just sitting in dumbledore’s office and karkaroff goes “well word on the street says that krum has a crush on that granger girl”
"damn," says dumbledore, "I wanted harry to rescue her. well, what about the delightful miss chang?"
"no," says bagman, "we’ve got her down for diggory"
"stop sinking my ships," says dumbledore